I Think We're Alone Now (USA 2018: Dir Reed Morano)

Cinematographer Reed Morano's first directorial offering was the harrowing Meadowland back in 2015. Its sombre tones find some companionship in her latest film (on which she also offers services behind the camera), a post apocalyptic riff on 'Robinson Crusoe.'

Del (Peter Dinklage), who lives in the library where he used to work, before an unspecified event wiped out most of the human race, is methodical in his daily routine of cleaning out houses for spare (canned) food and equipment, marking the streets off with crosses as he completes his forays. Some lovely touches define his situation - watching a series of laptops that he's acquired which successively die as their power fades for example - and in keeping with his former job his life is devoted to the maintenance of order, like using chopsticks to eat food and drinking his wine out of a glass.

But one evening some fireworks let off in another part of the city alert him to the fact that he's not alone, and the search for his 'Man Friday' leads him to Grace (Elle Fanning) who he first meets passed out in a crashed car. His new found friend's rather hedonistic approach to life is in marked contrast to Del's own - he's happy to stay put, while she plans to see all of the country's landmarks - and his initial instinct is to reject her presence, which is too messy and interferes with his routines. When asked whether he feels isolated, the small in stature Des responds that he felt more lonely in a town full of citizens.

But his 'Man Frida' sees through his apparent difference and a relationship of sorts forms between them, with Grace picking up a dog - later released by Des after it chews some of his precious books - and helping him out on his clean up expeditions (in one moving moment happening upon Des's former home, which clearly evokes too many painful memories for him to countenance living there). "With every piece of trash we pick up there's one less case for chaos in the universe," he explains, warding off the threat of entropy, prompting Grace to respond "has anyone ever told you you're a weird guy?" Des's comeback is one of the film's best lines; "Yeah, but they're all dead now."

But a glimpsed vertical scar on Grace's neck, which she keeps covered from Des, alerts us to the fact that all isn't well, and the sudden arrival of a couple (Charlotte Gainsbourg and Paul Giamatti) who both know Grace and want her to return to the west with them - is a massive shock for Des who thought the pair were all alone in the world. It also triggers a crisis of conscience in him. Does Des follow or remain sequestered in his own existence?

Morano's film is, as you would expect, beautifully shot and exquisitely paced, and Des and Grace are well defined characters despite just a few brushstrokes of descriptive dialogue. The casting is excellent; Dinklage's permanently furrowed brow and solemn expression instantly denotes a depth of thought and melancholy, in contrast with the tall, willowy but equally unhappy Fanning, her girl/woman features perfect for the role.

The film lets itself down slightly with a denouement which is perhaps more The Stepford Wives than it should be, but for the most part this is a satisfying exercise in the pleasure and pain of isolation, and ultimately a plea for the right to be miserable. Really, really good.

Utøya July 22 aka Utøya 22 Juli (Norway 2018: Dir Erik Poppe)

Arguably the controversy over the release of Erik Poppe's Utøya July 22 has been compounded by UK director Paul Greengrass's 22 July (currently streaming on Netflix). Both films reconstruct the 2011 atrocity on the Norwegian island of Utøya, where 77 young people, camping as part of an event organised by the Labour Party's Workers Wing (the AUF), were gunned down by lone extremist right-winger Anders Breivik.

The arguments as to whether a filmmaker should attempt such a film are complex. Commercial movies are, by their very nature, just that; commercial - they are there to make money, irrespective of any higher purpose espoused by the director. On the other hand, film is peerless as an artform in its ability to convey mood, feeling, a sense of time and place, and also to provide different contexts in storytelling.

Poppe's version of the events was planned in close dialogue with several survivors of the atrocity, and sticks closely to the facts - it was even filmed near to where the murders took place, and on film the events have the same time duration as the actual incident - 72 minutes. Poppe's key decision was not to foreground Breivik, but to concentrate on the victims, the movie becoming an extended commemoration of their bravery. The director was concerned that in many written accounts of the events on Utøya too much emphasis had been placed on Breivik's motivations, mainly due to their seeming lucidity, reducing the human cost to an enumeration of lives lost. And it is this aim which is the key to Utøya July 22's success as a piece of film making.

The film opens, and maintains its focus throughout, on 18 year old Kaja (Andrea Berntzen), who like all of the characters in the movie, is fictitious. Kaja comes to represent the body of students in her determination and resilience (her age is not accidental - more of the Utøya victims were 18 than any other age) and we first meet her talking directly to the camera. "You don't understand," she says. Is Kaja talking to the audience? No, she's just hands free on her phone. When she joins the rest of the group, the talk is all about the recently detonated bomb in Oslo (set off by Breivik) - many of the young people are phoning relatives on the mainland - when they can get a signal - and there's a sense of shock among the group; of course we are fully aware of what's going to happen next.

That knowledge gives an off camera scream added frisson as the audience waits for the inevitable violence. But it's just Kaja's younger sister Emilie (Elli Rhiannon Müller Osborne) messing about with some other kids. Back in their tent Kaja berates Emilie for her lack of sensitivity, clowning around when a bomb has gone off in the Capital. Emilie sulks and refuses to leave the tent while Kaja joins the others (and it is this separation that drives the story), who are philosophising about the political and social impact of the bombing. One student of colour worries that if responsibility is claimed by a Muslim group he will be victimised - but there's a general feeling that terrorism doesn't happen in Norway.

The build up of tension prior to the event becomes almost unbearable, and this could lead to an accusation that Poppe is playing with the tropes of the thriller here, particularly as we know that while the students are gently bickering among themselves Breivik is travelling to Utøya to begin his murderous rampage.

It's an interesting dilemma. How to make a sensitive film about actual events while at the same time deploying accepted genre devices? As the shooting starts Poppe continues to utilise them: when Kaja returns to the tent to find Emilie, she calls her sister's mobile only to discover that it has been left in the tent. And while Breivik is never fully seen for reasons earlier mentioned, his shadowy figure, glimpsed outside tents or at a distance as a dark, menacing form, brings to mind the killers of slasher movies. Even the choice to film Utøya July 22 with a single handheld camera in one take, with the sounds of screaming in the woods out of shot, brings to mind the found footage genre.

Ultimately any accusations of exploitation are counterbalanced by the all too human tragedy unfolding, and the sensitive way it's depicted. Initially when the shooting starts many of the students gather together but they are soon forced into isolation; and what Utøya July 22 heartbreakingly shows is that children have little survival instinct - they simply shut down. Even Kaja - whose spirited attempts to avoid Breivik and locate her sister provides a ray of hope for survival - tells other kids, trying to hide themselves in the cracks of a steep cliff face, that she's going to find someone who will help. Poppe keeps anything explicit out of sight - there is thankfully no lingering on the aftermath of the shootings - but one very difficult scene, where Kaja comforts a dying child by asking her what she wants to be when she grows up, and who responds with a plea for 'mummy' is almost unbearable; the children who have no future except to face their own mortality is the most frightening thing in a film which remains incredibly powerful long after the credits have rolled.

Utøya July 22 is released theatrically from 26 October 2018.

Ladyworld (USA 2018: Dir Amanda Kramer)

The cinema of freak out seems to be upon us. Last year Darren Aronofsky's mother! disguised its environmental subtext in a house party that gets seriously and murderously out of control, and earlier in 2018 directeur terrible Gaspar Noé portrayed a dance troupe collectively leaving their gourd in his typically over the top Climax.

Nothing stronger than cheap wine and birthday cake fuels the social breakdown in Amanda Kramer's debut feature Ladyworld, but the effects are equally anarchic and gruelling.

Ladyworld takes place within an apartment in the aftermath of an earthquake. A group of young girls, who are there to celebrate their friend Eden's birthday (the apartment belongs to Eden's parents who, like most adults in this movie, are nowhere to be seen), gradually emerge from various rooms to take stock of the chaos around them. The 'quake has apparently sealed them in, leaving the group trapped and with few resources to survive, apart from what's left of the party food and drink.

As supplies (and the charges from their mobiles) run out, the panicking girls form into two separate gangs, headed up respectively by waspish bullying Piper (Annalise Basso) and more level headed but equally ineffective Olivia (Ariela Barer); each is desperate to impose their will on the others - albeit in different ways - and exercise their right to occupy the apartment. As tensions escalate, the veneer of respectability falls away and the girls' more primal urges come to the surface.

Kramer's first film back in 2016, a short called Bark, was in some respects a dry run for the extraordinary Ladyworld, where an argument between two girls escalates into something a lot more physical. Kramer's first feature was shot in 12 days and, with its slender storyline and shifting moods, is best approached as an allegorical look at societal norms and the roles we expect young women to inhabit; albeit a very unsettling one.

In the Q&A accompanying the film's screening (at the London Film Festival) Kramer recognised that few movies depicted women - particularly young women - being ruthless and nasty, and that to some extent Ladyworld was a reaction to how girls are more often cinematically depicted as positive role models. This enables her to have some fun with our expectations of some of these conventions. For example the girls collectively use makeup literally as warpaint, at one point even eating lipstick, a scene which functions not only as a highlight of their animalistic states but also as a comment on commodification. But any playfulness quickly gives way to a more threatening and potentially violent atmosphere; a cupboard in the flat may house the body of a man who some of the girls maintain has been stalking them; or does it house Eden, who made a hasty exit when things started turning nasty? The audience gradually finds itself lost as to who, if any, of the cast they can sympathise with and relate to, building to the final scenes of feral abandon which become a cacophony of voices (courtesy of the cast and a riveting discordant soundtrack by Callie Ryan) and flailing limbs.

The most obvious reference point for the film is Lord of the Flies (early on in Ladyworld a crystal is used to maintain order, much as the conch is deployed in the earlier film) but I was also reminded of Jane Arden's 1972 movie The Other Side of the Underneath whose female cast undergo excruciating on screen primal scream therapy. What these influences have in common is strong ensemble playing, and it's Ladyworld's unwillingness to have a star at its acting centre that is a significant part of its appeal. I tend to write this a lot in my reviews, but Ladyworld isn't for everyone. Although scripted it feels very devised and conceptual in nature, and it takes a while to build to its tour-de-force ending. But it's bold, free (but also very constricting) and genuinely experimental, even if that approach is at the expense of narrative or detailed storytelling.

Suspiria (Italy/USA 2018: Dir Luca Guadagnino)

Remakes are as old as film itself. And while I don't generally subscribe to the 'why bother?' argument for that very reason, it doesn't stop me holding the opinion that most updates of original movies offer very little. But I keep an open mind because sometimes a remake does provide a new perspective on the source film, while being important in its own right. I think you can see where I'm going with this.

Suspiria was the remake that shouldn't have happened. The original held such canonical status that any attempt to update or reboot it met with incredulity in fan and critical circles. But when the trailers started to appear the dissenting voices quieted somewhat. Revisiting the original movie it's clear that Dario Argento was much less bothered with narrative drive and more with set pieces, spectacle and overall mood. While this makes the original timeless, its occluded storytelling leaves lots of questions unanswered (and which failed to be fully responded to in his sequels Inferno (1980) and the belated final part of the trilogy Mother of Tears (2007)).

Guadagnino's version cleverly takes the key plot points of the original film - a dance studio run by a coven of witches, with a war between the three founding 'mothers' into which newcomer Susie Bannion is admitted - and gently re-assembles them, producing a movie which feels both naggingly familiar and very different - it's a hard one to pull off, but he succeeds.

His Suspiria is set in the Berlin of 1977: the timing is important. Not only is it the same year that the original film was released, but it was also a time of Bowie and Iggy's occupation (there's a Bowie poster on one of the dance student's walls to prove it) and huge civil unrest in the city, what with the tensions between east and west and the rise of the Red Army Faction via the Baader-Meinhof gang. Guadagnino exploits these tensions, even gently suggesting that they are in some way the product of the spiritual war going on within the City's Markos Dance Academy.

Described as 'six acts and an epilogue set in divided Berlin' the chapters of the film gracefully progress, taking their own sweet time to gradually generate a mood of decay and even ennui. Whereas Argento's movie was bathed in primary colours and full of overexcited characters, Guadagnino's version visually utilises muted shades and hues, and has a cast whose general temperament could best be described as 'listless.' Fittingly the Markos academy, while seeming very similar to the building in Argento's original, looks old and in poor condition here, and its location by the Berlin Wall subtly integrates it into the country's turbulent history. This version of Suspiria doesn't trumpet its arrival, but insidiously creeps up on you (even the title sequence dispenses with the film's name by having it superimposed on a passing U-Bahn sign), and its two and a half hour running time doesn't drag as a result.

The director holds back on the violence too, although the threat is ever present. One scene early on, where one of the students is despatched in an empty mirrored studio, her flailing limbs broken and smashed by an unseen presence while, in another room, new arrival Bannion (Dakota Johnson) is executing the same moves via an audition piece, is shocking partly because of the quiet sequences that bookend it.

Tilda Swinton is on restrained top form as Madame Blanc (a role more melodramatically realised by Joan Bennett in the 1977 movie), ruling the dance academy and tutoring the pupils in rehearsals of an extended piece called Volk, which was originally devised at the end of the Second World War. The dance will acquire huge significance towards the end of the film as the power struggle between the 'mothers' erupts (the only point in the movie where the grand guignol excesses of the original are revisited); its development also strongly suggests the complicity of the rest of the students in relation to the events that are set to unfold. Also connecting to the war is a new character of Dr Josef Klemperer (subsequently disclosed to be Swinton herself under heavy facial prosthetics) who is carrying out an investigation into the Academy based on the disclosure of a former pupil, one of his clients. His treatment at the hands of the victorious 'mother' at the end of the film added a coda of sadness to the movie that I wasn't expecting; equally unexpected was some light humour, courtesy of the coven at rest.

Thom Yorke's score is as moody and unobtrusive as the film which it soundtracks (although I could have done without his instantly recognisable voice which took me out of the film somewhat), and I liked the ambiguity and pathos of its conclusion. Suspiria is a movie which challenged and exceeded my expectations. It handles its many changes of tone without affecting the overall structure of the film, and its emotional sweep was unexpected but powerful. It's a film I'd happily see again and again, it's that bloody good.

Suspiria premieres at the London Film Festival on 16 October 2018 and is released theatrically from 16 November.

Escape Room (USA 2017: Dir Will Wernick)

With a title as generic as Escape Room, you could be forgiven for expecting a film full of reheated Saw-like thrills. In fact it's so generic, there was even another film of the same name released the same year. But it's not that one (which has Sean Young in it). It's this one.

Now I've had personal experience of being held in an escape room as part of a work team bonding day, so I feel I'm qualified to comment on the veracity of this movie. How it works is that a group of people are admitted to a closed and locked space, and through solving various puzzles via clues and objects placed around them, work out how to free themselves.

Sounds fun, right? Well the fun kind of depends on with whom you're playing the game. In the case of Escape Room the players aren't much fun at all - a group of entitled twenty somethings, who when we first meet them are larging it up in a swanky restaurant celebrating head of the pack Tyler's big three oh - they're so obnoxious they all hide their credit cards under a napkin and select one to take the hit for the entire meal. In a short establishing scene we've already seen how mean Tyler can be, when he disses a passing homeless guy from the safety of a car - his girlfriend Christen is clearly long suffering, and there's also a tension between the two hinting at Tyler's potential infidelity.

Christen surprises Tyler and the rest of the group with invitations to an escape room event (at $1000 dollars a pop, no less), and before they know it they're blindfolded and being driven to the location. "It does sound crazy but crazy sounds like a lot of fun," summarises one character. Of course in the next scene the group find themselves separated in different spaces within the facility- and must attempt to reunite and, well, escape.

How they find each other, via a set of clues and puzzles which gradually unlock doors and free up chastity belts (yep...) is quite interesting - if decidedly 'uncrazy' - but until the real menace kicks in at about the hour point, it feels like watching an episode of 'The Crystal Maze' with less Lycra. But as the movie progresses it becomes obvious that there's a shadowy architect behind the increasingly nasty games, and the object of the exercise transforms from 'will they get out in time?' to 'who will get out?' Oh and in Christen's case 'will someone ever give her a robe?'

Will Wernick is clearly less interested in making you feel for the characters in his film - they're pretty much ciphers for everything we're supposed to dislike in 21st century capitalist society (even a subplot involving Tyler's bit on the side fails to summon interest) - so he can't complain when the viewer cares little for the cast in 'peril' mode.The movie is neither as nasty as it possibly should be, or as exciting; budget limitations mean that while early scenes sustain the attention, the big tense stuff at the end feels cramped and underdeveloped, and the whole thing is basically overpolite and inconsequential.

The Super (USA 2017: Dir Stephan Rick)

Phil is an ex-cop who has taken a job as a caretaker of a down at heel apartment complex in New York City. He's given up his previous life following the death of his wife to raise his two daughters, petulant Violet and her younger sister Rose (an intense performance from newcomer Mattea Conforti).

But as the family settle into their new life (and not much of one, with all three having to live in a store room with only sleeping bags for comfort) all is clearly not well inside the apartment block. We've already seen a lengthy pre-credits sequence wherein a teacher and her disabled husband are stalked and brutally murdered by an unseen entity, and fellow caretaker Walter seems to be in the frame mainly because of his obsession with voodoo. As the bodies mount up Phil and his family look to be in mortal danger from an increasingly aggressive unknown assailant.

The herring rouge come thick and fast in this rather old fashioned but by no means unenjoyable mix of hider-in-the-house movies and The Sixth Sense. For once the NYC apartment setting doesn't offer up uberglamorous flats that nobody on average salaries would be able to afford. In fact there's an overall feeling of scruffiness, with dowdy dwellings occupied by rather flawed broken people, and the lack of gloss is admirable.

Performances in the movie are extremely strong, which they'd need to be for some of the more WTF moments in the story (and yes, there's an M. Night Shyamalan style last reel twist that I couldn't possibly reveal). Apart from the aforementioned Ms Conforti, Taylor Richardson is great as troubled teen Violet, constantly on the verge of tears as she deals with grief caused by the death of her mother, and Patrick John Flueger is similarly conflicted as the family man wrestling with his own pain. Shifty support comes from Yul Vazquez as Phil's morally dodgy predatory co-worker Julio and Paul Ben-Victor as sleazy building supervisor Mr Johnson, who may well know more than he's telling. Fruitiest of all is Val Kilmer as the muttering occult obsessed Walter, the latest in a line of odd bit parts from an actor who once upon a time would likely have inhabited the lead role here.

German director Stephan Rick's previous features seem to have occupied some rather dark places, and The Super is no exception. It's good to see a film that doesn't offer its characters an easy way out, evidenced by the last shot, both redemptive and downbeat, which could give rise to one of cinema's more bizarre sequels. Not bad at all.

The Super is released on digital download from 22 October.

Report from 2018 Mayhem Film Festival, Nottingham

They're queuing up to write for DEoL it seems - and I'm not complaining. So here's guest reviewer Satu Sarkas-Bosman's report on the delights of Nottingham's Mayhem Film Festival, which ran from 11 to 14 October this year.

Mayhem Film Festival was founded in 2005 by film makers Steven Sheil and Chris Cooke; it has evolved into a marvellous mixture of horror, science fiction and cult cinema.

This year we enjoyed 16 new films. Three of those were UK premieres, and the programme also included a rare showing of White Reindeer (a 1952 Finnish supernatural folk tale) and a raucous outing of Lamberto Bava’s Demons. The selection of films came from the UK, USA, Canada, Finland, Japan, South Africa, Italy and Brazil. The short film showcase is still one of the most acclaimed segments and always attracts a large audience.

The Festival is well known, not only for its selection of films, but also the extremely friendly and welcoming atmosphere. This is where cinema goers, movie aficionados, film makers, sound engineers and individuals from many walks of life get together and talk cinema. Steven Sheil wants Mayhem attendees to ‘have an experience of watching films together and talk about them.’ Mayhem certainly achieves this.

So what about this year’s Mayhem offerings? I have a few that I can heartily recommend. The top spot was a tight battle between Marc Price’s Nightshooters and Andy Mitton’s The Witch in the Window.

Marc Price delighted us in 2008 with his zombie movie Colin which was created on an unbelievable budget of £40.00. Nightshooters was shot in three weeks, in a building marked for demolition, and follows the fortunes of a film crew witnessing a gangland killing. Price provides snappy dialogue, real laughs and incredible martial arts sequences showcasing Jean-Paul Ly’s skills. The pace of the film never lets up and you find yourself caring what happens to the characters. This movie was a firm favourite of many attending Mayhem.

The Witch in the Window is a beautifully shot and slow burning story of a haunted house. Hang on, before you groan, there was something rather special about this one. My son, whose least favourite genre is the haunted house movie, absolutely loved this. Simon, played by Alex Draper, takes his 12-year old son Finn (Charlie Tacker) to rural Vermont where he has purchased a property to fix up and sell on. However it seems that they are not the only ones occupying the house...

The strength of this film comes from the storytelling and the relationship between father and son. The interaction and the dialogue between these two characters is so natural and believable, delivered by solid acting from both actors. The director, Andy Mitton, does not rush the delivery and allows it to unravel in its own pace.

A wonderful addition to anyone’s Christmas movie list would be Anna and the Apocalypse from John McPhail (director of 2015's Where Do We Go From Here?). I am not a fan of musicals and the idea of zombies, combined with musical tunes, did not fill me joy. Well, I was very wrong! It appears that you can create a zombie musical full of toe-tapping tunes and likeable characters. The cast, led by Ella Hunt with her impressive singing voice, fight and sing their way through a zombie apocalypse descending upon the small town of Little Haven. This, not without its very moving moments, is crying out for a sing-a-long release around Christmas time at a cinema near you.

One Cut of the Dead is a Japanese comedy horror from Shin’ichiro Ueda which is slowly gathering quite a following. It's a fresh look at the genre and gathered many laughs at Mayhem. We follow the shooting of a low budget zombie movie, when suddenly it appears that real life zombies are attacking the crew. All I can say is, persist through the first 20 minutes and you will be rewarded, but I will not divulge any more....

Shinsuke Sato’s film Inuyashiki is a Japanese comic based movie following the fortunes of middle-aged Inuyashiki Ichirou. He is truly downtrodden, pathetic and if his life is not hard enough, he is also diagnosed with terminal cancer. However, after witnessing a bright light descending from the sky, knocking him out, he wakes up in possession of superpowers. Whilst Inuyashiki gets used to his newly acquired gifts, it looks like he is not the only one who changed that night. Although this movie follows very much the path of good versus evil, the characters are engaging, the acting is excellent, the story heartfelt and not always morally clear cut.  

Finally, how can I not recommend the latest instalment of the Puppet Master franchise, Puppet Master: the Littlest Reich from directors Tommy Wiklund and Sonny Laguna. It has gore, guts, extremely dubious humour, puppets, Barbara Crampton (from the original Puppet Master) and Udo Kier.

Okay, it is not everyone’s cup of tea (and there are those for whom it was downright offensive) but I found it to be rather entertaining. The story centres on the celebration of 30th anniversary of the Toulon murders, where collectors gather for the auction of the notorious puppets. Who would not want to own their own Tunneler, if only these pesky puppets would not be so psychotic and have a tendency to go on a killing spree? True fans will lament the absence of some of the original puppets such as Jester, but since there are more of 'Puppet Master' movies in production, we can only hope that they will return.

Mayhem also  presented an interesting film from South Africa.  Number 37 is an impressive debut from Nosipho Dumisa. She adapted Hitchcock’s idea of Rear Window and interpreted it through the story of individual experiences of those living in one of the most deprived areas of Cape Town.

You could do worse than putting Mayhem 2019 into your diary. If four days of (fantastic) cinema and friendly debate sounds like a good use of time to you, please join us at Broadway Cinema, Nottingham next year.

The website for Mayhem Film Festival is here.

MFKZ aka Mutafukaz (France/Japan 2017: Dir Shoujirou Nishimi and Guillaume Renard)

Angelino (just Lino to his friends) is a young man growing up on the future streets of Dark Meat City in New California. But he's a kid with a difference. Not only does he have a rather large round head which makes him stand out from most other people in the city, he's the product of extra and intra terrestrial parentage, which gives him special powers, triggered following a scooter accident.

Lino and his friends Vinny (skull-faced and flame headed like a mini Ghost Rider) and nervy Willy do their best to stay out of trouble on the crime ridden streets, but complications arise when Lino encounters a beautiful girl, and starts having visions of city dwellers casting strange alien shadows as they traverse the town (in more than a nod to John carpenter's 1988 movie They Live). Before they know it the trio are being pursued by some archetypal men in black, who are very interested in Lino and his genetic secret.

MFKZ has so much plot you could stand a spoon up in it, being based on a comic book and where the filmmakers have clearly agreed to leave nothing out. It's stunningly realised, frighteningly hip (although the dubstep soundtrack may date rather quickly) and smartly voiced by some great actors (including Michael Chiklis, Giancarlo Esposito, Jorge Gutierrez and Danny Trejo).

Directors Nishimi and Renard have gone for a hyperactive - and hyperviolent - approach that, as the press kit states 'mixes anime, film noir, Lucha Libre, and gang culture in an orgy of first-person shooter mayhem.' It doesn't all work as you might expect with so much going on, but for the most part it's fast paced, frequently funny, and quirky enough to sidestep boredom despite some rather samey action sequences. MFKZ is worth viewing for the art direction alone though, which is a feast for the eyes and the mind.

Dark Eyes Retrovision #2 - Strait-Jacket (US 1964: Dir William Castle)

Showing at London's BFI as part of the 'Fierce: The Untameable Joan Crawford' season, it's always good but sadly quite rare these days to see William Castle's films on the big screen.

One of the many post Psycho films emerging from Hollywood in the years following Hitchcock's genre defining masterpiece, Strait-Jacket had a greater lineage claim than most in that its screenplay was written by Psycho author Robert Bloch (the first of two scripts provided for Castle that year, the other being The Night Walker). Apparently Castle was annoyed at Hitch for making a movie which in both style and content trespassed onto his cinematic territory (he immediately responded with the small town murder mystery Homicidal in 1961) so there was probably some satisfaction in securing Bloch for the project, requiring him to up the ante with the choice of murder weapon, from knife to axe.

Strait-Jacket saw the return of Joan Crawford to the 'psycho biddy' thriller sub genre, two years after the brilliant Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? which Castle has admitted was an influence; although to throw people off the scent he also mentioned taking elements from the story of 19th century axe murderer Lizzie Borden. Regarding the involvement of Crawford, one story has Castle pitching the role to her at a party as his first choice - although in reality the studio's pick for the lead role was Joan Blondell, who had injured herself at home and couldn't go ahead. Another has Castle and Bloch summoned to the offices of Columbia's president to be told that Joan had got wind of the role and was interested.

To be honest whichever story is believed is irrelevant - Crawford put her stamp on the production, what with her $50,000 salary, profit share and requirement that Anne Helm, originally cast in the role of Carol, be replaced with Diane Baker, with whom she got on better, having appeared with her in The Best of Everything in 1959. In a later interview Helm said (of Crawford) "she was a very hypocritical woman. She really wanted me off the picture, and I know that. But by that point there was no way I even wanted to be in the picture. She was a very sick woman." According to one source Crawford made rehearsals with Helm very difficult, before finally getting her way.

Castle acquiesced to all his star's demands, possibly seeing Crawford as his latest film's 'gimmick.' He later commented: "All the rumours I head about Joan Crawford being difficult were false. She is truly a great artists. Directing her was one of the greatest experiences of my life."

In Strait-Jacket Crawford plays Lucy Harbin, a woman sentenced to a twenty year prison sentence  for axing her husband and his lover to death. On release she goes to live on a farm with her brother Bill and her adult daughter Carol. Carol and her boyfriend Michael want to get married but Michael's parents forbid it. A string of new axe murders points to Lucy as the main suspect, but the truth reveals that Carol, dressed as Lucy, is the killer, who has been conspiring to off Michael's parents leaving the coast clear to marry him.

'Lumberingly directed' was the conclusion of the Monthly Film Bulletin when it reviewed Strait-Jacket on its UK release in 1964, with 'more threat and thump than wit.' Across the pond US critics were equally unkind, while remaining respectful of its star. The New York Times' Bosley Crowther described it as a 'disgusting piece of claptrap' and Elaine Rothschild in Films in Review, defending Crawford, wrote that 'even in dreck like this she gives a performance.'

Although Crawford may have felt the role rather beneath her, she nevertheless put the hours in when it came to promoting the film, making personal appearances in a number of US cities, courtesy of hired limousines and an extensive drinks rider of course. To market the movie Columbia made a rather nifty four minute short, How to Plan a Movie Murder, which had Castle, Crawford and Bloch and some of the rest of the cast introduced to the audience.

While Castle and Crawford would reunite for the 1965 movie I Know What You Did, sadly Strait-Jacket marked both the director and star's last film with Columbia studios. Castle would have just another few years at the top of his game before the new breed of horror directors would make his style of horror and suspense feel decidedly outmoded.

Dogman (Italy/France 2018: Dir Matteo Garrone)

Marcello is a divorced father of one, struggling to make ends meet running a dog grooming parlour called 'Dogman' (to which the film's title refers, as well as Marcello's state of being during the movie) and doing a bit of cocaine selling as well. Always keen to please and not rock the boat, he's trying his best, using the little money he earns funding scuba diving trips to bond with his daughter Sofia.

But Marcello has a big problem. The town bully - the ferocious, feral Simoncino, feared by everyone, holds Marcello in his thrall, persuading him with menaces to obtain drugs and also to help as a getaway driver. But when Simoncino involves Marcello in a burglary close to home, resulting in the latter undertaking a prison sentence to cover for Simoncino's crime, the dog parlour owner makes it personal and seeks revenge.

Garrone's movie, his first feature since the sprawling and ambitious Tale of Tales back in 2015, doesn't put a foot wrong, a dark and heady mix of humour and pathos played out in a grim coastal resort town which doesn't seem like it ever had better days to look back on. Essentially a two man revenge tragedy, Dogman pits Marcello against Simoncino, and it's their ambiguous, strangely symbiotic relationship that is the core of the film - they even live across the road from each other.

Marcello Fonte is terrific as the downtrodden Marcello; his permanent goofy smile masks the pain of his life, only leavened by the time he spends with Sofia (Alida Baldari Calabria - excellent). His work at the dog grooming parlour is both funny and at times rather dangerous for the actor (watch the film's opening and tell me it isn't so) and the sequence where he goes back to the scene of a break in to rescue a dog that's been put in a freezer is a tender gem. Simoncino is played as a psychotic force of nature by Edoardo Pesce, a performance of raw, simmering violence which almost transcends the part to be emblematic of something more primal, it's that good.

Garrone's balance between dark humour and sustained threat is a tough one to achieve, but he manages it skillfully. Marcello could be seen as a figure of fun, and certainly his physique and his choice of employment suggest a figure of ridicule, but his earnest nature and commitment to broadly doing the right thing invests him with a dignity that makes the scene of his incarceration (brief but with exchanged glances between prisoners that tells you he's about to have a very bad time) even more unbearable.

Dogman is largely music free, using the ambient sounds of the coast - and a lot of silence - to tell the story. In fact, apart from the bursts of violence which punctuate the film, it is the sound of Simoncino's approaching motorbike which provides the movie's tension. The roar of the engine, announcing the thug's arrival, is as potent and ominous as the sound of the bolt pistol used by Javier Bardem in the Coen Brothers' 2007 movie No Country for Old Men.

It would have been easy for Garrone to have developed the movie to give the audience the satisfaction of Simoncino's comeuppance, but Dogman's denouement is much more complex than that. The sense of characters trapped in their own world, which punctuates the whole film, denies the movie an easy resolution, but overall it's a mesmerising piece; a tragi-comic triumph.

Dead Night (US 2017: Dir Brad Baruh)

Parents Casey and James, their teenage kids Jason and Jessica and Jessica's friend Becky head out to Oregon for a snowy spring cabin retreat in, you guessed it, the woods. The cabin is renowned for its revitalising powers, being built on iron oxide deposits, and the aim of their stay is to help heal James, who has been diagnosed with cancer. But the woods hold other mysteries too. In a 1961 prologue, a young courting couple are attacked by some weird figures who capture the female half of the pair and impregnate her. The resultant quick-as-you-like birth - also a girl - will be important to the story. Cut to the present day, and James and Jason find an unconscious woman while out searching for firewood. Bringing her back to the cabin, the stranger turns out to be Leslie Bison, who just happens to be running for governor, and who is probably old enough to have been born in 1961. Ms Bison turns out to be a whole heap of trouble and before we know it the entire family are in jeopardy.

First time director Brad Baruh was producer of one previous feature, Phantasm Ravager, and Dead Night is on occasion similarly inventive. The cleverest element of the movie occurs a little way in, when the story is interrupted by a faux reconstruction of the events in the film we're about to see via a TV show, 'Inside Crime', which in its more prosaic (and incorrect) retelling of the future horrific events paints Casey as the slayer of the family, dubbing her 'Axe Mom.' it's a smart way of heightening the tension.

Unfortunately from here on in there's too much poorly explained oddness as the movie progresses, and what could be a clever meta Cabin in the Woods style outing breaks down into a combination of folk horror, old school effects and occasionally silly exposition which goes off in too many directions. If this feels like a film that has been pulled apart in the editing suite, that's because it is -  originally released as Applecart, it was severely re-jigged following a poor critical reception.

Scream queen for our times Barbara Crampton gets a meaty role as Bison, and pretty much carries the film; the rest of the characters are little more than sketched in. The snow covered woods look beautiful though (although some snowless scenes confuse), and there's some good effects sequences on display by Chris Gallagher and Erik Porn (I kid you not) - I haven't seen bladder work like this since Paul Clemens turned into a giant cicada in 1982's The Beast Within. The forest creatures (named 'The Ladies') are also pleasantly weird and rather nasty. I just wish the story could have been less jumbled. Moderately entertaining then, mainly because of the performances and the look of the thing, but a bit of a wasted opportunity with the talent available.

Incident in a Ghostland (France/Canada 2018: Dir Pascal Laugier)

With the exception of 2012's The Tall Man, Pascal Laugier has been relatively quiet on the feature front since the release of his searing and divisive movie Martyrs in 2008. Incident in a Ghostland sees a return to the visceral and punishing excesses of his breakthrough film (albeit this time largely in English but still with a very European sensibility), but it's an approach that offers diminishing returns.

Bookish, Lovecraft obsessed novice writer Beth and her petulant sister Vera travel with their French speaking mother Pauline to take up residence in an old house left to them by a recently departed aunt. The house, filled with antique nick knacks and lots of creepy dolls (The Conjuring may have been a set design influence), revolts Vera but speaks to Beth's gothic tendencies. But on their first night two doll obsessed deranged killers - whose modus operandi is to break into family homes, murder the parents and torture the kids - invade the house and attack our cast.

The three women seemingly survive the assault, but the incident changes the girls' lives forever; Beth moves away and becomes a bestselling author, whereas Vera remains in the house with her mother, hopelessly lost in an eternal loop, replaying the attack in her head. When Beth receives a phone call from Vera, hysterical and seemingly out of control, she travels back to the house for the first time since the incident and realises that things are not as they should be.

Incident in a Ghostland offers one major plot twist about halfway through the film which dependent on your frame of mind is either revelatory or just plain daft. Either way it shapes the rest of the movie, which largely concentrates on Beth and Vera's attempts to leave the house. There is sadly very little content other than described above, and Laugier instead relies on scene after scene of extreme peril with both daughters undergoing all kinds of indignities as they try to escape.

In a 'behind the scenes' feature included on the DVD, the director is clearly shown to be a very intense and committed man. He's also aware - and slightly proud - that his work will not achieve universal popularity but soldiers on to create his art, which, and based on his current and previous output, hinges on the suffering of women (it's probably why he can only finance one film ever five years or so).

The small cast do well to ratchet up the tension - perhaps the most surprising bit of casting is Mylène Farmer as Pauline. Farmer, a French Canadian singer who the director had long admired, had a reputation for including controversial lyrics in her songs and was apparently the first singer to appear fully naked in one of her videos back in the 1980s. Farmer is very convincing as a first time actor, entering into the physicality of the piece as obligingly as her younger (and more trained) co-stars. Kevin Power and Rob Archer cut frightening figures as the unnamed killers (Laugier turns the clock back by having Power as a cross dressing maniac) and Emilia Jones and Taylor Hickson are more convincing as the young Beth and Vera than their adult counterparts.

Incident in a Ghostland is intended to be a difficult watch, and while I'm sure the director wants his film to say things about the indomitability of the human spirit and the passion of storytelling, this is really just another film where women go through things in the name of drama and haute tension. And he's done that already.