CONTAINMENT (2015)

Directed by Neil Mcenery-West, Starring: Lee Ross, Sheila Reid, Andrew Leung, Louise Brealey. Horror, UK, 2015, 77mins, Cert 15.

“Please remain calm. The situation is under control.”

Recently divorced Mark (Lee Ross) is not having a good start to his day. Awaking to find both the electricity and the water in his tower block have been turned off, he then can’t seem to open the window, the mobile phone signal appears jammed and his front-door has been glued shut. Initial suspicions that this might be some kind of prank are soon dispelled when he glances out across to the adjacent high-rise and spots a fellow resident desperately pounding his fists on his own sealed in double-glazed flat. Then, to top in all, Mark glances downward and sees HazMat (hazardous materials) suited personnel entering the block opposite whilst some kind of field hospital appears to taking shape on the communal lawn below.

First-time director Neil Mcener-West’s low-budget high-rise rift on [REC] mixed with THE CRAZIES type of scenario is proficient and lean and delivers a taunt kitchen-sink nightmare scenario. It’s focus is not so much on the reason for the ‘containment’ (there are a few cursory details offered late on regarding some kind of virus outbreak), but more about how the trapped residents react to the situation, and to each other – and that’s where the real horror is located.

As our reluctant hero, frustrated artist Mark (played with measured conviction by Lee Ross) finds himself forced by circumstances into banding together with his neighbours who, except for grouchy OAP Enid (Sheila Reid), he’s never really paid any attention to before. But thanks to the hit first ask questions later approach of bully-boy Sergei smashing through the paper-thin apartment walls in order to gather them together (safety in numbers), Mark is about to find out exactly what his neighbours’ true natures really are. Refreshingly, there aren’t any zombies resulting from this biohazard, here the threat lies within when the claustrophobic pressure of being trapped with a seemingly deadly pandemic in the air begins to take its toll mentally and physically on the remaining tenants.

Sheila Reid lightens the mood on occasions with barbed pronouncements such as: “Trust us to be the last – just like the fucking bins”, and writer David Lemon also provides her with this assessment of the residents’ predicament: “Weren’t like this during the war...At least it were some’ing you could all see...”

With clearly a very modest budget to play with, the sound design is worth its weight in gold for painting in the suggestion of an encroaching military presence of helicopters etc, and the haunting soundscape which accompanies the carefully composed shots of bleak vistas provide an effectively unsettlingly backdrop to the visceral struggles within the tower block.

Whilst the premise itself is hardly original, the film’s overall strength lies in its unsentimental and unflinching examination of quite how fragile the veneer of civilised society really is. Some of the characterisation is thin, and plot holes leave the occasional splinter, but the ruthless thrust of the narrative coupled with a trimmed-to-the-bone running time ensures the cracks don’t weaken the structure fatally. 

***(out of 5*)

      

Paul Worts

THE MESSENGER (2015)

Directed by David Blair, Starring: Robert Sheehan, Lily Cole, Tamzin Merchant, David O’Hara, Joely Richardson. Supernatural Thriller, 2015, 97mins, Cert 15.

Jack (Robert Sheehan) can see - and hear - dead people. In fact you could say they’re the ones haunting him. Despite his concerted efforts to drown them out with alcohol and medication, they hound Jack, begging him to deliver final messages of comfort to their grieving loved ones. Unsurprisingly, Jack’s garbled attempts to convey the dead’s post-mortem words to the living don’t go down too well. Then Jack encounters a murdered journalist whose death hides secrets which force Jack to confront his past and his ‘gift’.

Although in essence the premise sounds like THE SIXTH SENSE, anyone approaching this film hoping for a twisty spinetingler will be disappointed. It’s a sombre, depressing film, reflecting the downward psychological spiral of its reluctant ghost- whispering protagonist. Whilst trying to appease the recently departed’s wishes he seems to just heap more misery on himself. Childhood flashbacks fill in the origins of Jack’s ‘problems’, and give his psychiatrist (Joely Richardson) a hook upon which to hang her psychological explanation for what Jack perceives as his (unwanted) burden. 

Robert Sheehan acquits himself remarkably well as Jack, a character initially hard to relate to. When Jack remarks to his brother-in-law Martin: “You never liked me”, Martin’s immediate comeback is: “What’s there to like?” Actually, I found myself warming to Jack, in part due to the (admittedly manipulative) flashbacks, but also down to the occasional raw glimpses of genuine fragility offered up by Sheehan’s committed performance. The other characters however are written and played with a coldness of touch – Jack’s sister Emma (Lily Cole) for example - and a paucity of detail ensures they largely remain detached both from Jack and the viewer.

The film condenses down into a character study of a young man who either can genuinely talk to corpses or is completely delusional. It does so by discarding several plot threads which, having initially been woven into the film’s fabric, are subsequently left dangling and discarded. The key mystery remains unsolved, and an intriguing sub-plot is introduced before being largely thrown away at the end.

THE MESSENGER is not a scary ghost film; it’s a bleak, downbeat supernatural take on the effects of grief.  Although lensed in widescreen, and despite the occasional bold visual brushstroke of swathes of grassy moorland, or a deserted airfield, the largely muted visual palette often has a TV-production vibe about it. But, despite the fact that the plot vanishes into thin air, the atmosphere conjured lingers in the memory.

 ***(out of 5*)

Paul Worts

THE CANAL (2014)

Directed by Ivan Kavanagh, Starring: Rupert Evans, Hannah Hoekstra, Steve Oram, Antonia Campbell-Hughes. Horror, IR, 2014, 93mins, Cert 15.

“Who wants to see some ghosts?”

Five years after moving into a creaky house backing onto a canal, film archivist David (Rupert Evans) is asked to review some old film footage donated from the local police archive. The footage, ‘Crime Scene 1902’, documents the brutal murder of a wife by her jealous husband who found out she was having an affair. The murder took place in the very same house David, his wife, and his 5 year old son now reside. A further film donation leads David to discover that the killer subsequently escaped from custody, murdered the nanny, and then drowned both the children and himself in the canal running behind the house. Back in the present, David suspects his own wife may be cheating on him...Is history about to repeat itself, and is there a ‘presence’ in the house and in the canal fuelling this possibility?

Shown as part of the Discovery strand at FrightFest 2014, writer/director Ivan Kavanagh’s psychological thriller pulls off some genuinely dread-inducing moments which call to mind certain sequences from the BBC’s M.R.James adaptations (albeit with a modern slant). It’s a shame then that the finale unfortunately drops the ball somewhat with a disappointingly mundane dénouement (followed by a nonsensical and seemingly tacked-on final twist). But there’s still much to admire up till this point.

Visually (and aurally) the film successfully evokes a palpable sense of unease, combining a series of effectively kinetic set-pieces whilst (refreshingly) resisting the temptation of the ‘jump scare’ in favour of incremental creepiness. There’s a surprisingly well orchestrated RINGU (1998) inspired sequence, and a truly nasty visceral moment in the canal drain which you wouldn’t normally expect to find in a film essentially grounded in psychological terrors.

There were times during THE CANAL when I was reminded of Steven Volk’s superb supernatural TV drama AFTERLIFE. In fact I half-suspected Lesley Sharp’s psychic ‘Alison Mundy’ and Andrew Lincoln’s sceptical academic ‘Robert Bridge’ would turn up at one point with wide-eyed Alison claiming the spirit of the wife killer was still in the house whilst Robert attempted to rationalise the spooky parallels.

Whilst there’s a spiralling grimness (no bad thing mind you) at the heart of the film, there is brief but memorable light relief in the shape of cynical detective ‘McNamara’ (a martyr to acid reflux) played with suitable drollness by SIGHTSEERS Steve Oram. With David’s wife missing, McNamara sits with him in the car and offers David the following insight: “People always suspect the husband. Do you know why that is? Cos it’s always the husband: every fucking time...”

I did chuckle to myself for questioning why David would choose to throw up in a revolting public toilet – one resembling a distant cousin of the defecate-incrusted Glaswegian bowl Ewan McGregor climbs into in TRAINSPOTTING – rather than outside in the infinitely preferable fresh air by the canal. It surely says something that I can happily swallow all manner of fanciful supernatural leaps in the dark yet somehow question a man’s choice of puke hole...?

THE CANAL churns up some decent chills, it’s smartly paced and doesn’t drag, and even if the end does meander off-stream a bit, it’s still worth a punt on.

***(out of 5*) 

Paul Worts

(First published on the FrightFest website.)

THE HUMAN CENTIPEDE III (FINAL SEQUENCE) (2015)

Directed by Tom Six, Starring: Dieter Laser, Laurence R. Harvey, Bree Olsen, Eric Roberts. Horror, US, 2015, 100mins, Cert 18.

Sadistic prison warden Bill Boss (Dieter Laser) is in danger of being fired by state Governor (Eric Roberts) on account of his prison having the highest personnel turnover; violence rates; and legal and medical costs - of any other institution in the US correctional system. Boss’ long-suffering accountant and right hand man Dwight (Laurence R. Harvey) however has a cunning plan to help cut costs. Inspired by the first two HUMAN CENTIPEDE films, Dwight proposes to create one giant human centipede of the 500 inmates...

Tom Six’s ‘FINAL SEQUENCE’ in his CENTIPEDE trilogy is a tamer effort in comparison to its slaughterhouse aesthetic monochrome predecessor, but there’s still plenty to offend the average ‘Daily Mail’ reader in this cartoonish satire on US politics. For starters Six loads Bill Boss’ dialogue with a non-stop spewing barrage of sexist, racist, homophobic diatribes. Played with artery bulging ferocity by Dieter Laser (returning from the FIRST SEQUENCE where he played the mad scientist and original creator of the centipede ‘Dr Heiter’), Boss’ rants aren’t mere idle threats either. Amongst his methods of attempting to instil discipline he employs water-boarding - with boiling hot water - on one prisoner whilst castrating another before having his testicles cooked for dinner. (And don’t ask what those African imported ‘sweets’ in that jar on his desk really are either...) 

Then, when he’s not abusing and maiming his inmates, Boss is abusing his secretary ‘Daisy’ (Bree Olsen) for his sexual gratification – in full-view of ineffectual ‘Dwight’ (Lawrence R Harvey - also returning after his brilliant portrayal of obsessive monster ‘Martin’ in FULL SEQUENCE). Dwight is in love with Daisy but he (like the rest of the prison staff) just can’t muster the courage to stand up to his evil tyrant of an employer – even when Daisy’s lying in a coma from being assaulted by an inmate.

Given the steady catalogue of atrocities served up throughout the film, the actual centipede of prisoners is almost an afterthought (it doesn’t actually begin to take shape until two-thirds of the films’ running time has lapsed). In some ways perhaps this reflects the (cult)ural phenomena of the ‘Human Centipede’ itself. The concept has seeped over into the mainstream (e.g. South Park parody) to the point where it’s become a viable Halloween cosplay option (for three close friends or more). This unlikely crossover has inevitably ‘watered down’ the centipede’s impact to shock. Originally conceived by Tom Six as an imaginary punishment for convicted paedophiles – it has, to a lesser extent, mirrored the way in which the original darker origins of ‘Fred Krueger’ were conveniently pushed to one side once wise-cracking punmiester ‘Freddy’ became a merchandising cash-cow for New Line Cinema. Tom Six is, I suspect, smart enough to have seen this coming all along, hence the structure of his FINAL SEQUENCE.

As puerile and ridiculously implausible as the material may be, there’s clearly method in Tom Six’s madness (something which is either consciously overlooked or genuinely missed altogether in amongst the copious amounts of onscreen filth and degradation). To say the trilogy displays self-awareness is an understatement – it’s a positive meta-construct. From the inverse scenario of Lawrence R Harvey’s loner ‘Martin’ being inspired by THE HUMAN CENTIPEDE (FIRST SEQUENCE) in the startlingly bleak brilliance of the sequel, right through to his character in FINAL SEQUENCE making his boss watch both the previous films before inviting the actual director into the prison as a technical adviser on achieving their 500-strong prisoner centipede. (The alternate ending – an extra on the disc – goes even further in completing the self-sustaining regurgitative narrative).

Maybe I should be worried, but despite all I’ve described above, I found THE HUMAN CENTIPEDE III (FINAL SEQUENCE) riotously amusing – albeit in a sick kind of way. Dieter Laser, resembling a 70’s exploitation version of ‘Lord Voldemort’ from HARRY POTTER AND THE PHILOSOPHER’S STONE, is mesmerisingly over-the-top; whilst Lawrence R. Harvey’s meekly mild moustachioed accountant is a perfect comedic foil for mad bastard Boss (even with Harvey’s hilariously unconvincing American accent).

Tom Six’s CENTIPEDE trilogy is, I very much suspect, a lot like ‘Marmite’: you either love it or you hate it. I HATE ‘Marmite’, but I seem to love the CENTIPEDE trilogy.

**** (out of 5*)                

         

Paul Worts

 

INVOKED (2015)

Directed by Humberto Rosaand Thairon Mendes, Starring: Patrick Murphy, Ciara Rose Burke, Lynn Larkin. Horror, UK, 2015, 85mins, Cert 15.

Five Irish twentysomethings set out for a weekend jaunt to stay at a youth hostel on a remote island off the coast of Ireland: reachable only (it seems) by rowing boat. Arriving cold and wet, they find the hostel deserted: and the electricity’s out. Lighting a fire, some candles, and some spliffs, they decide to pass their first boozy night away by holding a séance (as you do). The upturned glass whisks briskly around the table spelling out the phrase ‘my children’ in response to the question: ‘what do you want?’...

Oh dear. Yet another wobble cam found footage snore fest, offering nothing remotely original in exchange for its migraine-inducing handheld shake and back cinematography. Every cliché and limitation associated with the found footage format is present and correct in this film’s tortuously dull 85 minutes of tedium. My heart sank the moment the title card appeared to explain that what we are (unfortunately) about to sit through is: “...evidence pertaining to the case of 5 people that went missing...This footage has been leaked to the public...” blah, blah Blarney Stone.

You could easily fast-forward to the 50 minute mark without missing anything scary (actually you could skip right through to the end-credits and still not miss anything genuinely frightening).

It’s not that I take exception to its old well worn set-up: groups of kids in remote setting (near a creepy burial ground!) muck about with things they shouldn’t and accidentally invoke evil spirit. It’s just that in this case there’s absolutely no attempt to inject even the merest hint of freshness or even self-awareness into the script. All you get is a bunch of non-descript young things shouting and screaming non-stop whilst inexplicably keeping their video cameras jiggling around as they run from one dimly-lit room to another. (Side note: if you’ve just seen a ghost whilst filming on your (non)steadicam – and your mates don’t believe you – why not just rewind the tape and show them it through the viewfinder?)

So what do they actually capture on film? Is someone suddenly dragged backwards down a corridor? Why yes – how did you guess? Is there a girl with long black hair wearing a long white robe that turns suddenly and transforms her face into a generic long-droopy face CG demon scream? Why yes there is, oh you’re good! We also get some chairs tossed across the floor, some supernatural rising damp creeping along the walls, and something scuttling down a tree in the pitch black woods. I couldn’t really make it out – perhaps it was a possessed squirrel? 

If you like found footage flicks, check out Adam Green’s DIGGING UP THE MARROW for a genuinely engaging take on the format. Sadly, INVOKED only invokes yawns.

*(out of 5*)

Paul Worts

EAT (2014)

Directed by Jimmy Weber, Starring: Meggie Maddock, Ali Francis, Maru Garcia. Horror, US, 2014, 87mins, Cert 18.

“Sorry sweetie, eat your heart out”.

It’s tricky trying to write a spoiler-free review about a film with the tagline: “The story of a girl who finds herself – and then eats herself.” The ‘girl’ in question is 30-something peroxide blonde Novella McClure (Meggie Maddock), a struggling LA actress who hasn’t landed a role in 3 years and whose fridge is practically bare. Trapped in a seemingly endless cycle of failed auditions, boozy nightclubs with best-buddy Candice and morning hangovers, Novella is in a very low place. To make matters worse, she’s 3 months overdue with the rent and previously patient landlady Eesha has slapped an eviction notice on her apartment door. What’s a girl to do?  How about absentmindedly chewing on her finger, then tearing off a whole stringy strip of flesh before passing out and ending up in hospital on ‘suicide watch’ for starters...?

Writer/director/editor Jimmy Weber’s first feature film is a glossy, visually appealing character study of a woman’s descent into despair, madness and ultimately self-destruction amidst the maelstrom of an image-conscious society and an endless sea of male scumbags. Much of the films visual appeal is provided by striking lead actress Meggie Maddock as blonde bombshell Novella, a role she quite literally gets to sink her teeth into. Then there's Ali Francis’ best-buddy ‘Candice’, an emotional powder keg with a handgun in her handbag that she’s not afraid to use.

The script offers up some amusingly bitchy back-stabbing exchanges between Novella and her (seemingly) arch-nemesis ‘Tracy’- who appears to be constantly stealing her roles. It doesn’t however scratch too deep below the surface as to what’s actually going on in Novella’s head, and ultimately I felt (somewhat ironically) under-nourished by its end.

The small-scale gore effects by Monster Makeup FX are suitably wince-inducing, and lead Maddock certainly sells the latex with gusto.

Reading the synopsis beforehand, it reminded me of the delightfully gruesome short story by Stephen King entitled ‘Survivor Type’, in which a man stranded on a desert island proceeds to eat himself. EAT is not that extreme, but it does cough up some memorably gory nuggets. The amusingly dark guignol finale particularly tickled my palette, as did the pleasingly inevitable post-credits shot.

EAT is not perhaps a full-on three-course gourmet feast, but it’s nevertheless a reasonable nibble if you’ve a taste for an indie body-horror snack.  

***(out of 5*)             

Paul Worts

SHARK KILLER (2015)

Directed by Sheldon Wilson, Starring: Derek Theler, Erica Cerra, Paul du Toit, Arnold Vosloo. Action, Thriller, US, 2015, 84mins, Cert 15.

“This isn’t Flipper we’re talking about here!”

Shark killer Chase Walker is enlisted by brother Jake to hunt down a Great White Shark (helpfully identifiable by its black fin) who rather inconveniently swallowed a rare diamond belonging to him (well, sort of). By sort of, I mean Jake was originally employed to steal it for rival crime overlord Nix but Jake double-crossed him. Nix, understandably aggrieved by this betrayal, also wants Chase to erm, chase down the shark and retrieve it for him instead. In order to help persuade Chase to switch allegiances he orders the kidnapping of Jake’s smart and sultry lawyer Jasmine (who Chase is smitten by). Can our hero pluck plucky legal babe Jasmine from the jaws of evil fish-gutting Nix whilst also plucking the treasured diamond from the deadly jaws of the black-finned Jaws?

Yes folks we’re deep into Syfy channel territory with this cheesy B’movie mash-up of crime thriller and shark fest. Shark hunter ‘Chase Walker’, played by Derek Theler (Chris Pratt/Jamie FIFTY SHADES OF GREY Dornan lookalike) hates the ocean (there’s a back-story but frankly who cares?), and owes his life somewhat implausibly to his weedy brother Jake (Paul du Toit). Yet more implausible still, despite being an apparent shallow womaniser, Chase is actually a man of hidden depths and no woman, not even our seemingly level-headed lawyer ‘Jasmine’ (Erica Cerra – think Mrs Amal Clooney) can resist his roughish charms indefinitely.  Hell, even the shark seems attracted to Chase as the script implies it’s stalking him at one point (JAWS: THE REVENGE This time it’s personal’ anyone?).

Thankfully the poor misrepresented Great White isn’t on screen for long as it appears to have been cut and pasted directly from DEEP BLUE SEA (bring back rubbery ‘Bruce’ from the original JAWS any day). Even FINDING NEMO’s ‘Bruce’ was more convincing – case in point, the stalking sequence through the sunken wreck – played out here half heartedly – musters less genuine menace than Pixar’s animated effort. I did however love this fascinating insight into shark behaviour from Chase at one point: “She’s marking her territory”. Eat your heart out ‘National Geographic’.

Back on dry land (where this film remains grounded for far too long given its premise), Paul du Toit (‘Toit’ is how his character Jake would pronounce ‘tight’ in his intentionally fake South African accent by the way) undergoes a startling uneven character arc which swings wildly between ruthless evil gang boss and Joe Pesci-like comedy sidekick. Arnold (THE MUMMY) Vosloo channels Donald Pleasence’s evil Bond villain ‘Blofield’ (minus the white pussycat) and is given a gloriously over-the-top send-off burnt to a crisp and harpooned.

SHARK KILLER is of course complete tosh - but it just about manages to keep its head above the water without sinking to the depths of deploying a tornado...  

**(out of 5*)

      

Paul Worts

(This review was originally published on the FrightFest website)