MAGIC (1978)

Directed by Richard Attenborough. Starring Anthony Hopkins, Ann-Margret, Burgess Meredith, Ed Lauter. Horror, US, 1978, 107 mins, cert 15.

“It was you the whole time...I hope I don't die first, is all...”

Back in 1978, way before Chucky and Annabelle, but some considerable time after Hugo from DEAD OF NIGHT (1945), director Richard Attenborough chanced his arm by bringing William Goldman’s novel and adapted script to the screen with Anthony Hopkins chancing his arm by sticking it up a creepy ventriloquist dummy.

MAGIC was Attenborough’s only directing foray into the horror/thriller genre - his follow up project turned out to be the multi-Oscar laden GHANDI. It’s a well-crafted portrait of psychological breakdown and all-consuming schizophrenia with shades of PSYCHO (1960). Corky (Anthony Hopkins), is an unsuccessful meek and mild stage magician who hits the big-time by reinventing his act with the addition of a snappy foul-mouthed sidekick ventriloquist dummy named Fats. 

The film’s pedigree is undeniable. Hopkins throws himself into the role hook line and sinker and delivers an unbridled tour-de-force performance, even taking illusion and ventriloquism lessons before filming in order to pull-off his voice-throwing magician routine in-camera. Burgess Meredith provides sterling support as Corky’s cigar smoking agent Ben Greene, “The Postman” (because he always delivers). Having discovered Corky, Ben secures a potentially lucrative network TV contract for his client, the only stumbling block being the network’s insistence on a routine medical examination. Corky panics (presumably due to a fear of what the psychological tests might find) and flees New York heading back to the rural wooded Catskills where he grew up. Taking a log cabin by a lake, he meets (and hooks up) with his old high school crush, Peggy Ann Snow (Ann-Margret). Having been far too shy in high school to act on his yearning, Fats’ persona imbues Corky with the swagger to finally act on his feelings. Inconveniently, Corky gets caught in a love-triangle because Peggy Ann is married to her alcoholic high school boyfriend, Duke (Ed Lauter).

Corky’s agent pursues him into the Catskills and stumbles in on one of his client’s argumentative meltdowns with his dummy Fats. This leads to one of the film’s most effective scenes when Meredith’s character challenges Corky to keep Fats quiet for a full five minutes.  

It’s a film which incrementally creeps up (and out) thanks to Hopkins’ sleight-of-hand performance instilling the genuinely unsettling Hopkins lookalike dummy with a palpable sense of menace. To this end, Victor Kemper’s cinematography cunningly frames Fats in ways that suggests the dummy is an active participant and teases the occasional twitch from the wooden doll in the shadowed periphery. Attenborough orchestrates a couple of surprisingly violent and bloody sequences which jar (in a good way), and the lake setting provides suspenseful mileage thanks to a corpse that firstly won’t stay dead, and then won’t stay submerged. Proceedings are accompanied by a typically lyrical and rich score from legendary composer Jerry Goldsmith, with initially soothing strings punctuated with a disconcerting harmonica. 

The sharp robust HD transfer is really good with an appropriately authentic cinematic feel (by all accounts an improvement on the previous US release). This is praise indeed because I’m a fussy old git when it comes to PQ! 

And yet – despite its obvious qualities both on and off screen - the film doesn’t quite fully satisfy. Perhaps it because for a film that’s called MAGIC, there ultimately isn’t any narrative misdirection to surprise the viewer. The final act kind of feels like it needs to pull a rabbit out of its hat. 

*** (out of 5*)

Paul Worts

This review was originally published by FrightFest.

THE HOUSE THAT DRIPPED BLOOD (1971)

Directed by Peter Duffell. Starring Denholm Elliott, Christopher Lee, Jon Pertwee, Chloe Franks, Peter Cushing, Joss Ackland, Ingrid Pitt, John Bennett. Horror/Thriller, UK, 1971,102 mins, Cert 15.

Originally released in an highly sought-after Limited Edition Blu-ray package back in July 2019, Second Sight have now released the Standard Edition Blu-ray alongside fellow Amicus portmanteau ASYLUM, porting over the previous generous special features and infinitely superior reversible sleeve from Graham Humphreys.  

Amicus anthology flicks are British horror’s equivalent of a comfort blanket, and they don’t get much cosier than director Peter Duffell’s only horror foray: THE HOUSE THAT DRIPPED BLOOD. A charmingly old-fashioned, bloodless (despite the misleading title), quartet of Robert Bloch adapted stories boasting genre stalwarts Cushing and Lee, alongside the ever dependable Denholm Elliott and a film-stealing turn from Jon Pertwee.

Like ASYLUM, the wraparound premise is housed in an imposing building, here a creepy gothic mansion whose occupants find their true natures tested and exposed with fatal consequences. The somewhat tenuous and clunky framing device grinds into gear when a Scotland Yard Inspector (John Bennett) investigates the disappearance of famous horror film star Paul Henderson (Jon Pertwee) who was the latest resident at the house, and uncovers a sinister history of tragic events befalling all the previous tenants...   

The first story, METHOD FOR MURDER features Denholm Elliott as Charles, a horror author suffering from writers block until he moves into the inspirationally atmospheric house with his wife Alice (Joanna Dunham). Initially impressed with the library of classic horror books on the dusty shelves, his writing comes along leaps and bounds as he types up his latest horror novel about an escaped homicidal mental patient called Dominic whose modus operandi is strangulation. There’s only one problem, Charles starts seeing his fictional character popping up around the house and gardens. Will a visit to the psychiatrist help him delineate fact from fiction...?  

Peter Cushing is the main protagonists in the second story, WAXWORKS, where he plays Philip a recent retiree still longing after his unattainable deceased true love. A trip to the local wax museum sets in motion a sinister train of events when one of the exhibits seems to be the spitting image of his lost love... 

SWEETS TO THE SWEET stars Christopher Lee as a single father to a young girl (Chloe Franks). Insisting his daughter must be home tutored, he employs private teacher (Nyree Dawn Porter) who is initially perturbed by Lee forbidding the child to have any toys, especially dolls, and missing candles seem to send him into a state of irrational panic. But what exactly is his daughter researching in the encyclopaedia in the ‘W’ section...?

And then, rounding things off with a hilariously show-stealing turn is John Pertwee, an aging prolific horror film actor on the set of his latest picture, a low-budget vampire flick entitled: ‘Curse of the Bloodsuckers’. Disgruntled with the wardrobe department’s offering, he purchases a second-hand cloak from a unique theatrical costumer by the name of Theo von Hartmann (Geoffrey Bayldon). The garment is quite authentic, perhaps too authentic in fact...

 

Director Duffell originally wanted to call the film ‘Death and the Maiden’ after the classical piece by Schubert Peter Cushing is listening to in the WAXWORKS segment), but was over ruled in favour of a more luridly commercial title. The producer’s even insisted on an ‘X’ rating for the film, despite its entirely anaemic content!

  

There are some cheeky in-jokes and genre references scattered throughout the film which alert one to the fact that Duffell, whilst treating the stories with care and attention, wasn’t above winking to the audience at times. The classic genre books on the shelves that Denholm Elliott browses through are carefully chosen, and the placing of ‘The Haunted Screen’ (an analysis of Expressionism in German cinema) against the director’s opening credit hints at Duffell’s loftier ideals. The waxworks Cushing attends features a tableau which is clearly Christopher Lee’s DRACULA (ironically the best rendition in the whole set), and poor Mr Lee is also the brunt of an aside by Jon Pertwee’s character when he reminisces about the classic old horror films such as DRACULA: “The one with Bela Lugosi of course, not this new fellow...” 

The opening story METHOD FOR MURDER is the most effective and delivers some genuinely creepy moments, even if Dominic the strangler looks like a cross between Boris Karloff in THE OLD DARK HOUSE (1932), perhaps intentionally, and ‘Oddbod’ from CARRY ON SCREAMING! – certainly not.

Peter Cushing is always a consummate professional, and he certainly gives it his all in the otherwise largely underwhelming WAXWORKS segment, particularly during an axe fight. (The actual waxworks are this story’s major hindrance). It’s always nice to see Christopher Lee cast against type in SWEETS TO THE SWEET – even if he is upstaged by little Chloe Franks. And the scene between ‘Doctor Who’ and future ‘Worzel Gummidge (Jon Pertwee) and ‘Catweazle’ and Worzel’s future ‘Crowman’ (Geoffrey Bayldon) – giving his best impression of Ernest Thesiger - is a TV trivia joy to behold. (Quick side note: Geoffrey Bayldon turned down the part of ‘Doctor Who’ when it was offered to him as he was reticent about committing to a TV series – and then the script for ‘Catweazle’ came along).

Whilst THE HOUSE THAT DRIPPED BLOOD doesn't, it does positively ooze with a comforting nostalgic atmosphere. And in these dark times, when you fancy a little lighter genre offering, why not snuggle up and pay this house of Amicus a visit?  

***(out of 5*)

Paul Worts

This review was originally published by FrightFest.

ASYLUM (1972)

Directed by Roy Ward Baker. Starring Peter Cushing, Robert Powell, Charlotte Rampling, Britt Ekland, Patrick Magee, James Villiers, Herbert Lom, Geoffrey Bayldon. Horror, UK, 1972, 88 mins, cert 15.

“Never turn your back on a patient”. 

Following on from their special limited edition Blu-rays back in July, Second Sight has now released standard editions of the classic Robert Bloch penned Amicus anthologies ASYLUM and THE HOUSE THAT DRIPPED BLOOD.

Amicus’ production model of modest tightly scheduled shoots allowed Messrs Subotsky and Rosenberg to attract top-drawer acting talent as they often only required them for a day or two of shooting. Case in point, ASYLUM, for which director Roy Ward Baker (SCARS OF DRACULA/THE VAMPIRE LOVERS) had a more than respectable roll-call of quality thespians to marshal for his first Amicus film.

Hammer legend and stalwart Peter Cushing provided the essential iconic genre anchor, and surrounding him were Herbert Lom, Robert Powell, Charlotte Rampling, Patrick Magee, James Villiers and Britt Ekland.

As with all portmanteau pictures, the wraparound framing device is the glue that binds the individual tales into a satisfying whole. ASYLUM’s is both a particularly effective premise and also a kind of whodunit to boot. To the dramatic classical strains of Mussorgsky’s ‘Night on Bald Mountain’, Robert Powell’s Dr. Martin drives up to the mist enshrouded grounds of an asylum for the incurably insane. Upon arrival he is greeted by interviewing doctor Dr. Rutherford (Patrick Magee), who sets him a challenge. Can he correctly identify which of the patients confined upstairs is the former doctor (now completely mad) for whom he is hopefully to replace? Guiding him into each of the patients rooms, and hearing their individual stories is the asylum’s intern, Max, played by the wonderful Geoffrey Bayldon – who also appears in THE HOUSE THAT DRIPPED BLOOD. (Quick aside: I once had the pleasure of chatting to Geoffrey about ASYLUM at a ‘Catweazle’ convention – he seemed to have found memories of it, and was keen to know whether it was available on DVD – it wasn’t at the time).

So, patient one (story one: FROZEN FEAR), Dr. Martin meets Bonnie (Barbara Parkins), who was having an affair with married man Walter (Richard Todd) who murders his wife (Sylvia Syms), chops her up into pieces, wrapping each part in brown paper and storing them in the newly purchased deep freezer in the basement. However, unlike Julie Andrews’ song in THE SOUND OF MUSIC, these brown paper packages tied up with string turn out to be anything but a few of Walter and Bonnie’s favourite things... 

 

Patient two (story two: THE WEIRD TAILOR), Dr Martin then meets Bruno (Barry Morse), an old-fashioned gentlemen’s tailor who is behind with his rent until he is generously commissioned by a ‘Mr Smith’ (Peter Cushing), a keen astrologer, to fashion a suit out of a special glowing fabric for his son. Mr Smith gives very precise instructions as to how and when Bruno can work on the garment. Having followed his client’s exact instructions to the letter, it is only when he delivers the suit to his client that he finds not only are his money troubles still far from over, but he has blood on his hands and the sinister true nature of the suit will be revealed once it is returned to his shop... 

Dr. Martin then meets patient three, Barbara (Charlotte Rampling) in LUCY COMES TO STAY, where Barbara insists she does not belong in the asylum. She then recounts her story of how she and her ‘friend’ Lucy (Britt Ekland) colluded to help Barbara escape from the confines of her sedative administering nurse and controlling brother George (James Villiers) using sharp implements...

And finally Dr Martin encounters Byron (Herbert Lom) in MANNIKINS OF HORROR, who has been fashioning a collection of robot dolls with life-like clay faces. He claims his creations have actual internal organs and he is experimenting with transferring his personality into the doll he has created of himself... 

 

My favourite Amicus anthology remains FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE, but ASYLUM does have its own rewards. The framing device is sound, not to mention sinister, and its denouement is pleasingly unsettling. FROZEN FEAR features a nice jump-scare involving a severed arm, although the sight of a wiggling leg and shuffling torso are liable to induce giggles rather than shudders. THE WEIRD TAYLOR has a more sinister gothic aesthetic than the other stories, but the payoff doesn’t satisfy as it seems to go off on a less interesting tangent. LUCY COMES HOME features a nicely effective murder set-piece clearly inspired by PSYCHO (as does the basic premise – unsurprisingly given the scriptwriter Bloch). Herbert Lom appears to be rehearsing for his Chief Inspector Dreyfus role in the future PINK PANTHER films. You can almost imagine him trying out his deadly robots on Peter Sellers' Inspector Clouseau! (In Bloch’s original story the robots were actual mannequins, but presumably a typically tight Amicus shooting schedule wouldn’t allow for the luxury of stop-motion).  

In conclusion then, my diagnosis is that whilst the stories contained within make for an uneven bunch of bedfellows, no one, least of all me, would consider you mad if you checked out this ASYLUM.

****(out of 5*)

Paul Worts

This review was first published by FrightFest.

THE GANGSTER, THE COP, THE DEVIL (2019)

Directed by: Lee Won-Tae.Starring: Ma Dong-Seok - aka Don Lee, Kim Mu-Yeol, Kim Sung Kyu. Action thriller, South Korea, 2019, 109mins, Cert 15.

“The real devils are those who commit crimes with kind faces.”

Around the 76-minute mark in Lee Won-Tae’s slick pulsating crime/serial killer hybrid actioner, there’s a brief humorous scene which perfectly encapsulates the film’s premise. Scarred crime lord (the ‘gangster’ of the title) Jang Dong-su (Ma Dong Seok, TRAIN TO BUSAN), stands at a bus-stop in the pouring rain waiting for detective (the ‘cop’) Jung Tae-Seok (Kim Mu-Yeoland) and gives his umbrella to a shivering school girl. When the detective turns up he advises the schoolgirl not to take random things from strangers: “He’s a gangster!” to which the girl responds: “You look more like a gangster than him!”

The moral boundaries between cop and gangster are not merely blurred like the smudged fingertips of serial killer ‘K’ (Kim Sung Kyu), but bludgeoned into a bloody pulp as gangsters teams up with cops to hunt down the devilishly brutal killer. 

Already earmarked by Sylvester Stallone for a Hollywood remake, director Lee Won-Tae delivers a headily entertaining mix of sparring mob rivalry, corrupt police bosses, and a brutal murderer whose modus operandi involves crashing his car into lone motorists before repeatedly stabbing them to death. That is, until he randomly picks on the wrong victim, and sets in motion an extraordinary manhunt involving both sides of the South Korean judicial system.

The uneasy and often queasy alliance between gangster Jang (introduced pulverising a punch-bag containing a rival gang member), and cop Jung (introduced alleviating boredom at being stuck in traffic by marching into a gambling den on a whim because the ‘hooligan’s’ running it ‘need a serious beating’) delivers a fascinating and darkly funny tension.

Director Lee Won-Tae has fashioned a pacy K-cop vehicle for some splendid, ferociously choreographed mayhem as rival gangs bloodily clash, and a stabby killer slices and dices. The courtroom finale seems incongruously restrained in comparison, but it’s a reminder that the script is based on a true story, set in August 2005, and that there is a morality tale here least we temporarily forget it in amongst the kinetic carnage. And then there’s the impish fade-out which earns a wry-smile. 

****(out of 5*)

Paul Worts

This review was first published by FrightFest.

HARPOON (2019)

Directed by: Rob Grant. Starring: Munro Chambers, Emily Tyra, Christopher Gray. Horror, Canada 2019, 82mins, Cert 18.

“If he dies, is he edible?”

Director Rob Grant steers his dark-humoured nautical indie reworking of Polanski’s KNIFE IN THE WATER (1962) through some claustrophobic choppy (and bloody) waters. 

Rich short-tempered brat Richard (Christopher Gray), convinced by a text exchange that his slacker best friend Jonah (Munro Chambers) has slept with his girlfriend Sasha (Emily Tyra), bursts into the film, and Jonah’s apartment, and proceeds to pulverise Jonah into a bloodied pulp. Luckily for Jonah, referee Sasha arrives in the nick of time to call a halt to the proceedings. Explaining the texts were really about buying Richard’s surprise birthday present (a spear-gun, the subject of a running gag where it’s constantly referred to as a harpoon), Richard tries to make amends by taking his friends out on his yacht for a day-trip on the open seas.

But this is an ill-fated love triangle which couldn’t be any more ill-fated if they’d sailed straight into the Bermuda Triangle. An omnipresent narrator (Brett Gelman, ‘Stranger Things’, ‘Fleabag’) drily fills us in on the morally questionable back-stories of our three protagonists. The camera peers down from on high in judgement before focusing in on a makeshift ‘SOS’ sign and a blood trail on the deck of ‘The Naughty Buoy’.

Given its UK premiere at this year’s Arrow FrightFest, this crowd pleasing three-(deck)-hander wrings every salty drop of tension from its modest premise. Although neither Richard, Jonah nor Sasha are remotely likeable, it’s a testament to the cast and filmmakers that their respective fates still manage to maintain our morbid curiosity.

Kudos to director Grant and co-scripter Mike Kovac on their gag reflexing riff on survival strategies to stave off dehydration, and the constantly shifting character arcs which refresh the narrative whenever the story threatens to run-aground.

HARPOON (“It’s a spear gun!”) briskly and efficiently navigates its way through its seafaring tall tale of dysfunctional friendships turned septic with a commendable degree of aplomb. It may not land huge breaking waves on the genre’s shores but it certainly generates entertaining ripples on the surface. 

Paul Worts

***(OUT OF 5*)

This review was first published by FrightFest.

FRIGHT (1971)

Directed by: Peter Collinson. Starring: Susan George, Ian Bannen, Honor Blackman, Horror, UK 1971, 87mins, Cert 18.

‘How do you spell that word “psychotic” sir?’ 

“You might have to spell it M.U.R.D.E.R., murder if you don’t get someone over there quickly!”

Who’d want to be a babysitter in a horror film? 7 years before a Captain Kirk mask would become the iconic face of a babysitter-stalking bogeyman, and 8 years before Carol Kane would be invited to go upstairs and check the children, doe-eyed Susan George assumed the mantle of the vulnerable teenage babysitter in Peter Collinson’s very British proto quasi-slasher. (A pertinent follow up question therefore might be: who’d want to be Susan George in 1971 given she went straight from this to Sam Peckinpah’s STRAW DOGS...?)

On the anniversary of her divorce from psychotic (check spelling) ex-husband Brian (Ian Bannen), Helen Lloyd (Honor Blackman) and new hubby Jim (George Cole) decide to go into town for a celebratory prawn cocktail at a mock Tudor pub. Needing someone to take care of 3 year-old son Tara - played by the director’s real life son – (who should have got himself a better agent after this), and with their usual nanny unavailable, (too busy making her husband’s supper apparently) – instead along comes cute blonde college student Amanda (Susan George) arriving at the creepy isolated old gothic mansion. Unfortunately, Helen’s deranged ex-husband (and biological father to her child) has escaped from a nearby mental institution and is making a beeline for an unwelcome family reunion...    

Director Peter Collinson (THE ITALIAN JOB, STRAIGHT ON TILL MORNING), together with writer Tudor Gates (THE VAMPIRE LOVERS, LUST FOR A VAMPIRE, TWINS OF EVIL) map out a basic template of tropes for the babysitter in peril sub-genre which, whether coincidentally or not, have been imitated, refined and regurgitated ad infinitum ever since.

Accompanied by an unsettlingly ominous song entitled ‘Ladybird’, our scantily-clad college babe Amanda (Susan George) walks through the sprawling overgrown grounds of the Lloyd’s country house stalked by the camera as it peers through the spiked gates and railings. Collinson and veteran cinematographer Ian Wilson carefully frame her behind bars at every opportune moment, whether through these gates, through the bars of the child’s crib or the bars of the stair banisters – foreshadowing her impending entrapment. A grandfather clock’s reflective pendulum is also deployed as a ticking reminder of fate (for both main protagonists). There’s also a nice little additional wink of foreshadowing in the discarded child’s doll with the slash on the right cheek discarded in the kitchen.

Once he’s got our babysitter alone in the creepy house, Collinson wastes little time in deploying the gamut of spooky stock sound-effects: creaking doors, dripping taps, rotating washing-lines (ok maybe that one’s not standard). Then there’s the face at the window, the unseen passing silhouette outside, but strangely enough the family cat is not enlisted to provide a fake jump scare (too soon?) As Romero’s NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD wasn’t in the public domain back in 1971, Amanda watches PLAGUE OF THE ZOMBIES on the TV to calm her nerves. (Given scripter Gates’ credits, perhaps he wanted a change from vampires?)

After necking back some sherry, Amanda immediately brews a cup of tea, which made me feel a tad queasy if I’m honest. Not as queasy however as I felt when Dennis Waterman’s charisma-bypass of a boyfriend pitches up as the red-herring intruder wearing an implausible cardigan and suffering from a severe case of blue balls syndrome as Amanda isn’t putting out. (Can’t possibly see why she wouldn’t wish to lose her virginity to such a suave suitor courting her with such enticingly come hitherto compliments such as: “"I reckon you got a lovely pair of Bristols!".)      

Whilst the basic suspenseful set-up is workable, the film begins to lose its way and falls down once psychotic (check spelling) Brian shows up, at which point it’s all over the place. Contriving to gain the trust of Amanda by conveniently showing up as a concerned neighbour (really?) just as she’s taken delivery of a blood battered boyfriend (reminding me of how Betsy Palmer’s Mrs Voorhees initially ingratiates herself with final-girl Alice Hardy in FRIDAY THE 13^TH (1980)), the hitherto threat of the unseen stalker is somewhat dissipated by Ian Bannen’s countenance. To be fair he makes a half-decent stab (no pun intended) at it until he starts to call Amanda by the name of his ex-wife.

What built up tension remains is then further diluted by Collinson cutting back to the excruciatingly naff scenes at the pub where an overwrought Honor Blackman and an underwhelmed George Cole dance groovily to mutual career-lows. Their ‘fun’ is soon cut short however  thanks to their psychiatrist dinner companion, Dr Cordell (John Gregson) who is treating Blackman’s nutty ex-husband. Firstly he tries (unconvincingly) to reassure that strangler Brian is safely incarcerated in the mental institute, and then, upon checking, discovers he’s actually escaped,but not to worry there’s absolutely no way the mad ex would think about heading to the house. (Dr Loomis he certainly isn’t).

Meanwhile, back at the house where psychotic (enough of that joke now) Ian Bannen’s Brian is pretending to massage the supposedly stopped heart of Amanda’s boyfriend, events are about to get decidedly and uncomfortably nasty when our babysitter wants to check on her little charge upstairs. What follows is a troubling scene in which Susan George’s character is sexually assaulted (partially off-screen) in the child’s bedroom. Thankfully, although highly unlikely, youngster Tara appears to sleep right through undisturbed as Amanda’s piercing scream heralds her violation. 

However, Tara (Tara Collinson) is not spared further potentially disturbing scenes, notably where a large shard of glass is held to the child’s neck. Although the child was the son of the director, and actress Susan George had carefully crafted a rapport with Tara prior to filming, these must surely have been questionable choices even so, and they certainly elicit sharp intakes of breath when viewed today. 

The final third disintegrates into a frankly laughable siege scenario involving the most inept police marksman ever portrayed on screen, and some dreadful dialogue such as: “What about the gas gun?, “Well it’s easy enough to lob one in but it just might hit the kid”. Time has also not been kind to the sight of ‘Trigger’ from TV’s ‘Only Fools and Horses’ as a moustached police constable. At least the George Cole and Dennis Waterman ‘Minder’ association is limited to Cole stepping over the bloody corpse of his future co-star. Cole for the most part under-eggs his ostrich-in-the-sand husband role, whilst, on the other hand, Honor Blackman over-eggs to the level of omelette with her ‘terrible secret’ nervous ticks right from the get go. When Amanda asks her: “Is there anything I ought to know Mrs Lloyd...?” I half expected her to suffer an aneurysm from over-acting.

Susan George is of course poutingly gorgeous as the screaming-at-hanging-laundry babysitter-in-peril, although what attracted her to what rapidly descends into an increasingly lurid sexist piece of exploitation (beyond loyalty to a director who helped kick-start her career) will remain a mystery. Actually, I may have answered my own question there.

Whilst it lacks any sort of body count, overt gore, or even actual scares, Collinson’s unique mise en scène fashioned a modest visually arresting fore-runner for better known and more celebrated directors to hone the urban legend of the escaped killer and the vulnerable home alone teenage babysitter blueprint.

***(OUT OF 5*)

Paul Worts

This review was originally published by FrightFest.

DOUBLE DATE (2017)

Directed by: Benjamin Barfoot. Starring: Danny Morgan, Michael Socha, Georgia Groome, Kelly Wenham. Comedy, Horror, UK 2017, 89mins, Cert 15.

“They’re just girls, man. What’s there to be afraid of?”

Jack-the-lad Alex (Michael Socha) is determined to ensure his best-friend Jim (Danny Morgan) gets laid and finally loses his virginity before his imminent 30^th birthday. A seemingly chance encounter with two attractive sisters in a bar feels too good to be true for unlucky in love Jim. However, spurred on by his insistent wingman, Jim and Michael invite confident Kitty (Kelly Wenham) and her more reticent sibling Lulu (Georgia Groome) out on a double date. Jim’s instincts prove correct when the lads find out their respective dates’ true intentions...  

I feel I owe director Benjamin Barfoot and writer/co-star Danny Morgan an apology for having effectively stood up their first feature film several times to date. Firstly I missed its hugely popular premiere at FrightFest, then, having recorded it from Sky Movies it was inadvertently deleted before viewing along with a whole raft of other titles in what our household refers to as the great TiVo purge of 2019. And to top it all, I even managed to miss the special screening and Q&A at the Prince Charles cinema on 5^th September.

However, I’m pleased to report that I’ve finally managed to catch DOUBLE DATE in advance of its release on digital and physical media from 9^th September.

For a first-time feature, it hits the ground running straight from the off with a brutally effective opening sequence which leaves you in no doubt as to the peril Alex and Jim will unwittingly set themselves up for on their double date. Kelly Wenham’s stabby kick-boxing Kitty equips herself persuasively as the fierce femme fatale who choreographs her sacrificial carve-ups to Yazoo’s ‘Only You’. Georgia Groome’s Lulu on the other hand is altogether more reluctant to get her hands dirty – even if she shares her 
badass sister’s ultimate wish for patriarch resurrection. 

There’s some broad laddish comedy at play here, most of it orchestrated by Michael Socha’s cocky Alex. But Socha (and writer Morgan) infuse his character with a sprinkling of vulnerability and likeability – the type of role Socha excels at – and the relationship between Alex and sympathetic Jim is amusingly touching. A couple of scenes standout here, firstly when Alex, in full-on Cyrano de Bergerac mode, texts Jim mistyped chat-up lines to use on the sisters. And there’s a lovely gender-reversing romcom sequence where Alex advises panicky Jim on a suitable outfit for their date (even checking his breath and making sure he’s got condoms) which director Barfoot intercuts with Kitty and Lulu’s clinically methodical preparations of their essential items: syringe, chloroform, and knife. 

An excruciatingly embarrassing detour to Jim’s happy-clappy Christian family provides toe-curling amusement, whilst Alex’s background is sketched out by a visit to his divorcé dad (Dexter Fletcher) in his squalid caravan.

The third act takes a pleasingly barmy left-field lurch into TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE territory when this largely hitherto comedy/horror firmly shifts gears into bloody confrontation. The raison d'être for the sisters murderous endeavors is treated with a blithely sketchiness but overall this confident, pacily assured debut feature more often than not pulls off that tricky tonal comedy/horror balancing double act. 

Worth making a date for.

****(OUT OF 5*)

Paul Worts

This review was first published by FrightFest.