Dark Eyes Retrovision #13: Candyman: Farewell to the Flesh (US 1995: Dir Bill Condon)

When it was originally released, I pretty much ignored Bill Condon's sequel to Bernard Rose's 1992 adaptation of the Clive Barker story, Candyman, on the basis that the original was so good I didn't want my memory of it sullied by an inferior second part.

Re-approaching the movie nearly 25 years later, courtesy of the new 88 Films Blu Ray release, those rather prissy concerns are thankfully a thing of the past, and while Farewell to the Flesh is a rather different beast to the original, it stands up as a pretty watchable film in its own right.

The setting is now contemporary New Orleans, a few days before the carnival of Mardi Gras (the literal translation of the word 'carnival' gives rise to the movie's suffix). Annie Tarrant (Kelly Rowan), a schoolteacher whose father was murdered by Candyman, comes to town to take up a teaching job. Her brother Ethan (William O'Leary) stands accused of the murder of dad, but knows the truth about who really dunnit. Annie seeks to debunk references to Candyman in her classroom by saying the name five times. Of course this brings forth the spirit, who proceeds to pick people off while showing an inordinate interest in the summoner.

Rather like Rose's film, Farewell to the Flesh explores issues of race by setting the movie in a black neighbourhood in which a white character must earn the community's trust, although the theme is pretty much squandered here, limited to a you're-not-from-round-here street confrontation and some shots of (probably real) down on their luck locals.

Added to this one is the relationship between Annie and her mother, a Tenesseee Williams styled booze guzzling vamp called Octavia (well played by Veronica Alien Cartwright) - the script also gives Annie a direct connection to Candyman, and a more detailed account of his history. All of this keeps the movie interesting but removes any of the mystique from our hook-wielding spirit (Tony Todd at his menacing best); part of the appeal of the original was the woozy dream state of the characters induced by Candyman's appearance - the sequel simply turns him into a Freddy Krueger style killing machine. In fact overall Farewell to the Flesh is terribly prosaic and straightforward; it was only Condon's second feature and his previous rather workmanlike TV crime drama CV shows through clearly here.

Candyman would return once more, for a 1999 direct to video sequel called Candyman: Day of the Dead, but I prefer to think of the franchise ending with the finale of Part 2, which provides a satisfying conclusion to the story.

Candyman: Farewell to the Flesh is released by 88 Films on Blu Ray from Monday 25th March. Extras on the disc include: a booklet by film journalists Dave Wain and Matty Budrewicz (first print run only); ‘The Candyman Legacy’ - interview with actor Tony Todd: and ‘Down Memory Lane’ - interview with actress Veronica Cartwright.

The Haunting of Sharon Tate (USA 2019: Dir Daniel Farrands)

Since the infamous nighttime attack at 10050 Cielo Drive, Hollywood, back in August 1969 - when followers of Charles Manson broke into the home of Roman Polanski and actress Sharon Tate, brutally murdering the heavily pregnant Tate and a party of friends - cinema has had an on/off obsession with Manson and his followers. 1976's two-part TV movie Helter Skelter had Steve Railsback providing a career best (and career haunting) performance as Manson, Wade Williams' 1971 The Other Side of Midnight combined documentary footage and re-enactments to piece together the murders, the 1997 film The Manson Family was a documentary style deconstruction of Manson and his acolytes, and 2009's Manson, My Name is Evil concentrated on 'family' member Leslie van Houten.

Well it seems as if there's life in the story yet - at least Daniel Farrands thinks so. The director - whose CV shows a predilection for movies about real murder, fictional murder, and murders we haven't made our minds up about (Amityville, basically) - dips in to a particularly dodgy nugget of history as inspiration for The Haunting of Sharon Tate. In the May 1970 edition of 'Fate' magazine, celebrity columnist Dick Kleiner wrote an article about a dream experienced by Tate, two years before the Manson commissioned murders, in which she prophesied her own death and that of her ex-boyfriend Jay Sebring (also killed by the 'family' that night). And it's this piece of Tate trivia which drives most of the movie.

In fact The Haunting of Sharon Tate opens with the actress having the aforementioned dream, in which she 'sees' in some detail the fate that will befall Sharon and her friends. We then flash forward a couple of years, to a point three days before the murders are set to take place. We learn that her husband is in England working on a film - the unmade The Day of the Dolphin - and Tate, despite being accompanied by her friends (ex- boyfriend Sebring, Wojciech Frykowski, and Abigail Folger), is lonely and increasingly given to paranoid delusions about being watched. Tate also expresses concerns about the fidelity of her husband, and the discovery of a draft script for Rosemary's Baby and a reel to reel tape of Manson's songs in the house's office (which include strange noises) invites the possibility of the absent director's possible collusion in what's to come.

Only buff handyman/caretaker Steven Parent (another actual character from Tate's story, but given considerably more to do here than his real life counterpart) provides the support that Tate needs; and being a bit of a gadget freak he is able to listen to the weird sounds on the Manson tape and work out that it's a form of 'backmasking' - they're actually the words 'Helter' and 'Skelter' but spoken backwards; "it sounds like some kind of chant or mantra," Parent explains, "or the foretelling of a prophesy."

There is a lot of talk about the fates, and different possible futures, which signposts the movie's big twist and odd denoument, and presumably gives some kind of credibility to Tate's visions - the movie even starts with the massively overused Poe quote "Is all that we see or seem, but a dream within a dream?" But actually nothing's credible in this movie, from the pedestrian performance of Hilary Duff as Tate, to the awkward intercutting of actual footage of Tate, Polanski and Manson into the reconstructed bulk of the movie.

The Haunting of Sharon Tate is a poorly thought out and extremely distasteful film, with historical scene setting information clumsily shoehorned into the script to add veritas. There was a possibility of saying something interesting about chance vs causality here, but it was never likely to happen under such ham fisted and lacklustre direction. Just plain embarrassing, but there's worse to come; his next movie is a reconstruction of the last days of OJ Simpson's ex-wife, The Murder of Nicole Brown Simpson.

The Haunting of Sharon Tate is available to watch on digital download from 8th April 2019.

Elizabeth Harvest (USA 2018: Dir Sebastian Gutierrez)

Gutierrez's first feature since his 2012 movie Hotel Noir has its roots in a retelling of the Bluebeard myth filtered through a Neon Demon like quasi future of brittle, static characters and glacial if beautifully dressed, brutalist interiors.

Ciarán Hinds is on great form as the suave, sleazy, obviously brilliant but increasingly monstrous Henry, a scientist who has made his fortune from his skills and, as the film opens, brought home his new elfin young bride Elizabeth to enjoy married life at his sprawling, meticulously arranged house.

Elizabeth is baffled why such a clever and, well, mature man has chosen such an ordinary girl for his wife (although as Elizabeth Abbey Lee is far from that)? Henry seems creepily besotted with her: "There's a very corruptible quality about you," he tells Elizabeth at one point while in bed. Whatever's going on gives little pleasure to the staff of the household, general factota Claire (Carla Gugino) and Oliver (Matthew Beard).

Elizabeth is given the run of Henry's stylish pad while he's out, with the one exception of a room which is off limits to all. Unsurprisingly Elizabeth's curiosity gets the better of her and before we know it she's drawn back the curtain, and doesn't like what she finds. The Bluebeard method of dealing with the bride is utilised, and very soon the movie starts over, with another Elizabeth returning to the bridal home and going through the motions again.

For a while I thought that Elizabeth Harvest was going to play out as an esoteric chamber piece that posed some questions and provided few answers. While it certainly takes its time presenting the story's reveals this is, under the chic furnishings, beautiful clothes and gliding, unhurried camera movements, a proper old B movie sci fi/horror.

The spirit of de Palma looms large, not least in the use of split screen, but also the borderline misogynist threat on display. There are also touches of Hitchcock, in the rather old fashioned doomed trapped woman scenario (Rebecca comes to mind), and its themes echo Alex Garland's 2014 movie Ex-Machina. But Elizabeth Harvest eventually acquires an identity of its own as its looping story gradually tightens. Lee is great in her part, her bemusement at her situation gradually giving way to understanding and then resilience. Dylan Baker is on hand as an investigating cop (hardly a stretch for him) but it is the performance of Carla Gugino as Claire that really steals the show here; she's the film's Mrs Danvers, a woman who has seen much and learned to live through it.

My usual moan about film length applies here - this really shouldn't have been one hour and 45 minutes in length - but it's an assured movie with a proper hissable villain that I really recommend.

Elizabeth Harvest is available on VOD from 1 April.   

Hell Fest (USA 2018: Dir Gregory Plotkin)

Natalie (Amy A Christmas Horror Story Forsyth) returns home from college to hook up with her bestie Brooke (Reign Edwards), who is now house sharing with tomboyish, sarcastic Taylor (Bex The Last Witchhunter Taylor-Klaus). As it's Halloween, Brooke has managed to get some hard to find tickets to 'Hell Fest,' a travelling horror theme park of rides, games and mazes. Natalie is reluctant to go - she thinks it will be lame - but is persuaded because old flame Gavin (Roby Attal) is also joining them along with the other girls' boyfriends.

But 'Hell Fest,' under all its theatrical ghost train scares, harbours a darker secret - a masked killer who stalks the corridors of the installation looking for innocent victims. And you don't have to be a genius to work out who's in the frame for a bit of casual slayage.

Director Plotkin's previous feature was Paranormal Activity: The Ghost Dimension, one of the weakest in the PA franchise. So hopes were not high for Hell Fest. But I was pleasantly surprised. True, the characterisation is paper thin, but the cast are all likeable, and Natalie, Brooke and Taylor make for an enjoyable trio; their boyfriends are far more generic, and it was good to see the guys shunted into the background. A cameo for genre stalwart Tony Todd is almost a must for this type of thing, and stuntman Stephen Conroy stalks menacingly as the killer, credited as 'The Other.'

But where the film really scores is in the creation of 'Hell Fest'. On what I'm guessing wasn't a very big budget, production designer Michael Perry (who's clearly been around a while - he worked on some episodes of the TV series Auf Wiedersehen Pet back in the 1980s!) has built a very inventive and believable horror park well utilised by the cast as they attempt to evade the killer. Beautifully lit and photographed (most of the movie takes place at night) it's a great set in which the killer gets to lurk, and the cast of fright themed extras are also great fun; I loved the guy dressed up as Seth Brundle mid transformation into The Fly who sicks gloop onto Natalie at one point.

A robust, pounding soundtrack by Bear McCreary gives the movie a very 1980s slasher feel (McCreary is a bit of a go to composer at the moment, having recently produced scores for Happy Death Day, The Boy, 10 Cloverfield Lane and the soon to be released Godzilla: King of the Monsters) and Hell Fest's slick look, well choreographed action sequences and inventive kills elevate this movie way above most slasher fare. Sure, it's just Halloween without Michael's sister stalking shtick (he wears a mask which disguises his identity, and his missing body at the end of the film suggests the possibility of a sequel) but the combination of manufactured scares and a real life killer worked for me. Hell Fest is definitely worth a look.

Hell Fest is released On Digital HD 8th March and DVD 1st April 2019.

Dr Balden Cross: Beyond the Void (UK 2018: Dir David Fenn and Tom Lee Rutter)

The latest curio from Tom Lee Rutter, director of the excellent 2017 short Bella in the Wych Elm, is an affectionate nod to mystical science programmes of the 1970s and 1980s, and another brilliant exercise in the accumulation of random Fortean facts; it's even got bit of found footage thrown in for good measure - now that's what I call a half hour well spent.

With co-director David Fenn, the pair have lovingly constructed a faux documentary (containing other faux documentaries within it) around the imagined character of Dr Balden Cross - played by Fenn - who is described as "the enigmatic anti-hero of the paranormal investigation community." He's a scholar of the arcane who makes the transition from closeted intellectual to TV host, and whose lifelong pledge is to convey a message from the beyond after his passing.

Fenn and Rutter have a lot of fun creating Cross's world. The first section of the documentary charts the Doctor's life, from his birth in 1919, covering his scholastic career and increasing interest in the occult, leading to the establishment of the PMRI (Paratheological and Metaphysical Research Institute to you) in 1971; PMRI funds his first TV show, 'The Midnight Hour,' a kind of stepping stone to a career in TV and film - Cross was in the 1976 feature 'A Coffin for Lady Dracula' - sadly not a real movie - before his death in 1982. The documentary concludes with a seance held to test whether Cross is as good as his word in terms of returning from beyond the grave.

Like Bella before it, Beyond the Void is lighthearted in delivery but takes its research seriously, seamlessly integrating fact and fiction in reconstructing Cross's life, fake news creeping onto the pages of newspapers and a sly Doris Stokes reference too. Hauntology fans will get a kick out of Rutter and Fenn's spot on recreation of 1970s TV shows, from the idents (the WTV Wessex logo) to the VHS-y look; it's no surprise that VHS artists Cassandra Sechler and Craig Jacobson were involved with the production (you can read my interview with the pair here).

As Dr. Cross Fenn plays the character with more than a whiff of the pomposity of Garth Marenghi, and while he may seem a little sprightly for the character's actual age, I'll put that down to a side effect of his overall strangeness. The rest of the cast - including a very much up for it Norman J Warren - are clearly having a lot of fun, and the final sequence made this viewer jump - an unexpectedly dark finale. Beyond the Void is as enjoyable both as a faux documentary as a story in its own right. Try and see it if you can.

A trailer is here.

Girl (Belgium/Netherlands 2018: Dir Lukas Dhont)

In Girl's opening scene, 15 year old Lara (Viktor Posner) pierces her own ears in front of a mirror (a minor version of the pain she will endure towards the end of the Lukas Dhont's impressive but problematic movie) while her father looks on, horrified but strangely impressed by her daughter's fortitude. Lara's passive face is something we'll grow very used to seeing over the course of the film's running time.

Lara is a biological boy who defines herself as female and is in the slow process of transitioning. She has successfully applied to join a ballet school (the family have moved home to accommodate this), although not having had the training that other girls have received from a young age, she has a lot to make up in terms of poise, footwork and deportment. But Lara badly wants to follow this career, for reasons we do not fully understand. Is it an expression of femininity, or something which channels the same discipline she is exercising in her transition state? This discipline is self-evident in the hatred of her present male state, often causing herself to undergo great pain and discomfort in an effort to disguise it, a constant reminder of a body she is keen to reject.

Lara is hemmed in by two well intentioned men. Her psychiatrist, presumably attached to her to hand hold during the long process of transition, who wants her to feel like a woman despite the fact that apart from puberty inhibitors she is still essentially male (he seems concerned that she wants to be physically defined as female before she's achieved that state emotionally, and when he asks her about physical relationships, she replies "I don't want to do that with this body."). And her father, tolerant, sympathetic, but carrying the burden of a parent having to accept what is happening, and imposing rules of conduct - no showering naked with her classmates for example - that are probably more for his piece of mind than Lara's.

She also shares her home with her little brother Milo, to whom Lara shows consideration and even maternal feelings, taking him to school and generally looking after him - possibly fulfilling a role left by Lara's missing mother. But there are moments where the tension of the household is disclosed - in one scene when Lara and Milo are having a family squabble he calls her by her born name - Victor - and the subsequent silence between them speaks volumes about what Milo has had to accept at such a young age.

Admitted to the all girl dance academy for a trial period of eight weeks. the others seem tolerant, even welcoming of Lara's presence (although in one horrendous scene this is tested by a teacher asking the rest of the class whether they feel comfortable showering with her). And much of the movie is spent showing Lara's resilience, whether remaining passive in hospital when confronted with the graphic description of the procedure she faces, or during her rigorous training, where she is at the mercy of a pushy ballet tutor who can clearly see the potential in Lara but is frustrated her clumsiness, whether due to the puberty inhibiting drugs or her natural physique?

Girl moves almost inexorably to a denouement where, faced with the dilemma of the leading girl pulling out of the school's big ballet production, an intensely trained Lara is asked to step in, 42nd Street style. It's the moment Lara's been waiting for but by now the audience has a thorough understanding of the pressures Lara is under when she finally gets her chance to deploy all her training, exacerbated when a bullying classmate corners her at a party and asks Lara to expose herself, asking Lara "Should we now see you as a boy or a girl?" Her frustrations at not being good enough, of not being woman enough, finally lead to Lara taking matters into her own hands.

Dhont's film is, unbelievably, his debut feature. It's an astonishing movie with a central performance by Viktor Posner that is unlikely to be bettered this year, a triumph of understated resilience and, yes, glamour, that doesn't ever feel like it's a one character film, even though Lara's spirit is the thing about Girl that you'll remember a long time after seeing it. Disturbing and problematic, it's a film that insists on being taken on its own terms.

Everybody Knows (Spain/France/Italy 2018: Dir Asghar Farhadi)

When thinking about the films of Iranian director Farhadi my feelings about his work are summed up by an anecdote about a guy who many years ago asked to hear the new album by US group Galaxie 500 (one of my favourite bands, a group renowned for never varying their sound or song structures) in a record store. The shop owner refused and asked the customer "Did you like their last album? Well then you'll like this one." Like that band Farhadi has a tendency to remake his own films, much in the way Eric Rohmer or Woody Allen do/did. Elements of his storytelling and characterisation re-occur in his work, and nearly all of his films involve a specific incident around which his cast act and react. He's one of my favourite directors and I'm pleased to write that his latest film - thankfully - shows no signs of breaking the thematic mould.

In Everybody Knows, his first film shot in Spain and with a Spanish speaking cast, Penélope Cruz plays Laura, who has travelled from Argentina to a small village outside Madrid for her sister's wedding. Laura is accompanied by her two children, little Diego and also wild child Irene, who before they've even unpacked has hooked up with one of the village boys and is haring off on his motorbike (with her in the driving seat). Only Laura's god fearing husband Alejandro is missing, unable to make the wedding because of work commitments.

The opening scenes are a rush of restless camera movements and the swirl of village life, while our cast are sketched out in the director's usual visual shorthand. Included in the extended party of friends and family gathered for the wedding are Paco (Javier Bardem) a local wine maker, his wife Bea (Bárbara Lennie), and Laura's parents, who still live in the village. The film moves seamlessly on to the wedding celebrations, brilliantly and wittily filmed, lively, joyous and wine fuelled (although as Paco later remarks, it's unusual these days for weddings of outsiders to take place in villages - an observation that gathers importance in terms of what's about to happen).

In the midst of the wedding, and following a power cut (which will also be significant later) it is discovered that Irene - who was put to bed earlier after feeling faint, following an extended bout of dancing - has gone missing. Shortly afterwards Laura, and oddly Paco's wife Bea, receive the same text, stating that Irene has been kidnapped; the ransom is 300,000 Euros. The abduction seems like a well executed and premeditated event.

It's at this moment that the film changes gear as the various members of the family unravel in a sequence of disclosures, accusations and revealed secrets. Farhadi's skill here, which he's done many times before (almost identically in 2009's About Elly), is to take a pivotal moment and then have his actors endlessly revolve around it, giving the audience a deeper understanding of how the characters function simply by their reaction to what has happened. "I'm suffocating," says Paco at one point, and we know just how he feels as the accusations and recriminations escalate.

The wedding, which has been extensively filmed, is re-watched to look for potential kidnappers at the party (it's assumed that it was an inside job and Irene was drugged before being abducted). The constant re-running of the wedding party footage, with its scenes of gay abandon and booze driven merriment, contrasts starkly with the tortured faces of the family as they come to terms with what has happened and attempt to raise the ransom, Irene's life being threatened by the abductors if the family report the kidnapping to the police.

If there is one criticism it's that the events following the wedding scenes seem a little out of balance with the first section of the film, and the suspense is diminished slightly by being too protracted. The performances in the film are so good that this becomes only a minor irritation; Bardem and Cruz dominate and both deliver sensational performances as strong but increasingly vulnerable characters. But the other star here is the country itself. This is Farhadi's first movie in Spain and he has clearly fallen in love with the rhythms of life in the country, which he brings effortlessly to the screen. A slow burner, maybe, but a tense and lovingly photographed one.

Dark Eyes Retrovision #11 and #12 - Cannibal Terror (Spain/France 1980) and The Green Inferno (Italy 1988)

88 Films have dug deep to restore and reissue two movies from that most controversial of horror movie sub genres, the cannibal film. When I was a lad, in the early days of video hiring back at the beginning of the 1980s, it was always cannibal movies that were on the 'must watch' list (and which stayed there by virtue of the fact that they were always on hire to someone else!). While the major films within the subgenre have since been recovered and made available in an (almost) uncensored form, two imitator offspring movies, Cannibal Terror and The Green Inferno, while inferior to their more well known parents, are still worth investigating.

Cannibal Terror (Spain/France 1980: Dir Alain Deruelle (as A.W. Steeve) and Olivier Mathot) Adult filmmaker Deruelle teamed up with first time director Mathot for this story of three small time crooks involved in the bungled kidnapping of a little girl, hiding out in the house of a friend which just happens to be located in a part of the world where cannibals dwell.

Cannibal Terror is a good ie typical example of the output of the French Eurociné company. In the 1960s Eurociné diversified into softcore porn filmmaking, but, after the bottom dropped out of the market because of the newly legitimised hardcore scene, they moved into horror and exploitation titles, of which there were many. Like all such companies, Eurociné prided themselves in bringing out cheap as chips copies of whatever mainstream films were hoovering it up at the box office - Cannibal Terror is clearly an attempt to make some money off the notoriety of Ruggero Deodato's Cannibal Holocaust released the same year.

However, one's expectations need to be completely reset for this one. Deruelle seems to have employed scriptwriters from his porn career for the film's dialogue; when there is any dialogue, that is. A good two thirds of the movie is spent with various groups of people walking around in a very unconvincing Amazonian jungle (actually Alicante in Spain). For a director with an exploitation background there's surprisingly little nudity here, and mercifully no animal cruelty. What there is in abundance are shots of actors staring lifelessly at each other, and some of the most fake natives you'll ever see - basically pale skinned Spanish extras who seem to have their work cut out for them not to burst out laughing when they're in shot. The cannibal scenes are restricted to two separate sequences (which look to be repeated) featuring the unconvincing natives faking an endless chow down on what looks like the intestines of a pig. Fans of Jean Rollin and Jess Franco (who worked on lots of Eurociné releases) may get a kick out of this, but it's a hard slog. Oh and watch for the cars moving in the distance in one of the film's final shots of the seemingly uninhabited jungle.

Extras include 'That's Not The Amazon! - The Strange Story of the Eurociné Cannibal Film Cycle’ with some entertaining observations by film critics and actors, and a deleted scene.

The Green Inferno (Italy 1988: Dir Antonio Climati) This was the last feature made by the director of the notorious 1975 documentary Savage Man, Savage Beast, but anyone expecting a return to the gruesome excesses of that mondo 'classic' will be in for something of a surprise.

Filmed at the fag end of the craze for this type of movie, The Green Inferno (the title was borrowed for Eli Roth's considerably gorier 2011 homage to cannibal cinema) plays more like an action movie than anything else.

Fred and Mark, together with journalist Jemma, steal an aquaplane and fly into the dense jungles of the Amazon to locate the missing Professor Korenz. On the way they pick up a native girl, Kuwala, who helps them navigate their way and deal with the Imas tribe, behind who Korenz might be hiding.

Originally devised as a TV movie, while The Green Inferno nods to the 'classic' cannibal movies, this is a very cann-lite outing. In the grand tradition of action flicks, things move at a very episodic pace, with the party contending against bats, elemental barriers, the jungle itself, and finally some rather hacked off natives. The film, while not actually including any animal slaughter, contains a lot of scenes, including monkeys out for the count and frogs being raced, which flirts with the cannibal movie staple without showing it. It's not an unenjoyable film, just a little dull, but any movie featuring a trumpet playing anthropologist forming an island jazz outfit can't be all bad.

Extras include 'Scenes From Banned Alive: The Rise and Fall of Italian Cannibal Movies,’ a 30 minute survey of the cannibal genre with Italian directors, Ruggero Deodato, Umberto Lenzi and Sergio Martino, that manages to avoid any mention of The Green Inferno; the original Italian opening and closing credits, and a remastered trailer.

Both films are released by 88 Films on Blu ray from 8 March.

Border (Sweden/Denmark 2018: Dir Ali Abassi)

While this website generally has a 'no spoiler' policy for recent films, the only way to write about Ali Abassi's extraordinary Border is to disclose some plot points. So I would strongly advise you to see the movie before reading this, as the less you know the more you're likely to get out of it.

Border introduces us to Tina (an extraordinary performance by Eva Melander, but by no means the only impressive one in the film), a customs officer with an advanced sense of smell. It's so advanced she can smell guilt, making her job an obvious career choice for a woman whose abilities encompass more than identifying contraband; in an early scene she stops a passing businessman, and, although a check of his bags reveals nothing, a request to provide the SD card from his camera has him vainly attempting to swallow it - the card contains images of child pornography; Tina has picked up on his shame. What is this gift? She has been told when growing up that it's a by-product of a chromosomal disorder that has also given her some rather unusual features, which causes her to be the object of attention and sometimes scorn.

One day Tina apprehends a passing traveller, Vore (Eero Milonoff), and is stunned to see that he shares her unusual looks. He is detained and strip searched, only for the officer responsible to confirm that he is without male genitalia. But Tina and Vore spark immediately, although Tina remains suspicious - her nature tells her to trust her senses that he's hiding something. But the pair, in finding each other, discover a connection that Tina did not think possible; whereas Tina has spent her life feeling 'other,' with Vore she feels complete. But Tina was right to trust her instincts, for Vore is about to reveal the truth about Tina's origins, and has his own dark secret to reveal too.

Border is not an easy film to like. It's about the most extreme subversion of boy-meets-girl story that you could imagine, an essay on difference which, if nothing else, convinces that there's somebody for everyone out there. Based on a short story 'Gräns' by John Ajvide Lindqvist, he of Let the Right One In fame, Border shares the same myth/reality themes echoed in much of the author's work. The film's muted colour scheme and tightly shot, shadowy vistas are as claustrophobic as the prosthetic makeup worn by Melander and Milonoff (four hours a day in make up, apparently). Personally I could have done without this rather distracting detail; close up the effects become the focus, which I didn't want. There are also some subplots in the film which take you away from the main story rather than draw you in, and excessively extend the running time. But despite its odd themes, it's a refreshingly down to earth story - just not with...humans. It's tempting to read Border as a film about immigration rather than general 'otherness' but there's more going on in the narrative to allow for such easy categorisation.

But it's the chemistry between the 'odd couple' that makes the film strangely compelling; whether it's Vore feeding Tina a maggot (yep, that's right), or Tina, swimming in a lake and feeling free for the first time ever, supported by some stunning cinematography. It's Melander's film though (the original story was largely told from Tina's perspective, and this comes through in the storytelling), a breakthrough performance certainly, although in a role I can't see setting any copycat trends.

Massive Attack @ Steel Yard, Filton, Bristol - 2 March 2019

Just occasionally I widen the DEoL brief to include music, and last Saturday's event, the final date on Massive Attack's recent tour, was so momentous I had to commit some thoughts to the ether.

The band were touring to mark the twentieth anniversary of third album 'Mezzanine,' the darkest of their works, mostly unencumbered with anything as instantly recognisable as, say, 'Unfinished Sympathy' from their first album, or 'Protection' from their second. It was and remains a difficult and dense album, and the decision to restrict the set largely to extended and reformed versions of the tracks on 'Mezzanine' initially appeared brave and possibly foolhardy.

MA made it clear, in the face of criticism earlier on in the tour, bemoaning the lack of hits being played, that this was most certainly not an evening to hear their most popular tunes, and over the course of the ninety plus minute set, you could see why. Indeed MA member Robert Del Naja described the live concept in interview as the band's “own personalised nostalgia nightmare head trip.”

The second of two dates at Bristol to close off their European tour (and the first appearance in their home town since 2016's The Downs Festival), the site chosen was a disused airfield in the suburb of Filton, on which a huge temporary arena - dubbed Steel Yard - had been erected. Audience wise there was a rather end of term feel, bolstered by some great DJing in lieu of any traditional support act. One supposes that the MA team signed off on a lot of the evening's pre gig detail (the bus transfer to and from the City centre was a triumph of polished organisation and a glowing example of how not to treat punters like cattle), and it became obvious that what tonight was about was anything but the usual corporate festival nonsense - there was an atmosphere in the DJ tents which the band would probably have enjoyed being a part of.

Steel Yard in Filton, Bristol

The wave of guitar feedback on stage announcing MA's arrival deceived those expecting a darker opening, by transforming into a gentle-ish version of The Velvet Underground's 'I Found a Reason.' It was one of several covers of songs, the originals of which had been used as samples on 'Mezzanine', demonstrating MA's proto punk as well as dub heritage; later thrashy and faithful versions of The Cure's '10:15 on a  Saturday Night,' Bauhaus's 'Bela Lugosi's Dead' and particularly John Foxx-era Ultravox's 'Rockwrok' were surprisingly upbeat highlights in a set which gradually enveloped the audience in waves of tension and paranoia.

It became obvious from the start that the boys in the band had no intention of emerging from the shadows. Often shrouded in almost darkness, MA let the pictures tell the story, courtesy of Adam Curtis's stunning if polemic visuals, charting a history of the times in which 'Mezzanine' was created, and the political and cultural period between then and now. Album guests Horace Andy and Liz Fraser were given the appropriate reverence, being allowed front and centre position (although Fraser sang 'Black Milk' from the back of the stage).

The band have worked with Curtis before - a 2013 project combining 'live music with cinema and journalism' - but for the 'Mezzanine' show his visuals hold sway, with the band's driving pulse underscoring the conclusions the audience are invited to make from the assembly of images. And it's Curtis's 2016 documentary HyperNormalisation - which suggested the creation of a fake world perpetrated by politicians and big business - that points to what's really going on here. MA are telling us that in the twenty and a bit years since 'Mezzanine' was released they have provided a lasting soundtrack for that period, and, as they point out, inertia creeps: themes of mass surveillance, data mining and conspiracy persist; we're shown huge images including a dead eyed Saddam Hussein passing a line of children, replaced by the visages of Putin and Trump (booed by some of the audience, who in their collective pantomime response to a cartoon villain kind of missed the point); the awful human cost of the Iraq war and the perma grinning face of Tony Blair; mile high emblazoned words uttered around the world - including our own 'Strong and Stable' - offered by Governments desperate to convince the populace that they remain in control; Pauline Boty, the unsung founder of British pop art; and bizarre footage of the Queen and Diana, Princess of Wales running to catch the wedding carriage of civil list sponge Sarah Ferguson in some arcane royal ritual. None of this is subtle but my goodness it makes you angry.

Liz Fraser onstage with Massive Attack

And all the while it's the beat - the constant urgent throb of the bass and the wash of background sound, that propels the darkest parts of 'Mezzanine' forward from history into this cavernous arena; Andy's keening voice punctuating the rising tumult of 'Angel'; Del Naja and Grant Marshall's disjointed observations in the sinuous 'Risingson,' and Fraser's pure tones ushering in the closing extended assault of 'Group Four.'

One of Curtis's images - Bowie kissing a fan - may indeed be a nod to the popularly held suggestion that the world has gone to hell in a handcart since the dame's passing - well someone's responsible, that's for sure, and MA want you to know it. But the band's final message, writ large on screen as their unique version of an encore, implores the audience to go out there and create a better tomorrow: 'Now It's Your World' reads the sign. But from what we've heard or seen, even if we're inspired to take it, MA suggest, it certainly won't be easy.

The final words on the evening are not mine or the band's - they are from Adam Curtis, and although he wasn't writing about the gig, he may as well have been: “A pleasure dome that makes us feel safe from the endless wars outside, and plays back stories both of dreams of glory and the fear of others. But in that safe world suspicion and distrust is spreading — like a virus. The air is growing stale. Everyone sees conspiracies everywhere. But maybe suspicion is control?”

A stunning event that left me completely hollowed out, it'll be hard to top this in 2019.

New Films Round Up #13 - Reviews of All Light Will End (USA 2018), Monster Party (USA 2019), Primal Rage (USA 2018), American Nightmares (USA 2018), The Witch in the Window (USA 2018) and Look Away (Canada 2018)

All Light Will End (USA 2018: Dir Chris Blake) When we first meet Savannah she's just a little girl afraid of the dark, the nonexistent monsters in her closet and the ones (not) lurking under the bed.When we next meet her twenty years later she's all grown up, a successful writer whose novel 'All Light Will End,' which gave voice to her childhood fears, is the toast of America. But Savannah's world isn't a happy one; as a child she found her mother's hanged body, and the memory lingers. She's seeing a shrink, who warns her that the current medication for her continuing night terrors may make it difficult to work out what's real and what's fantasy. Uh oh!

Her father, a local sheriff with a drink problem, has also clearly not got over the death of his wife, and has the added problem of finding a series of dismembered limbs - the sure fire hallmark of a serial killer - a crime that he must solve with his comedic sidekick police colleagues.

On a whim, Savannah, her boyfriend and two other mates decide to hot foot it over to Savannnah's brother's graduation (he still lives in the house where she grew up), while our heroine starts having visions of herself as a young girl and seeing a strange figure with an animal skull for a face. And then the killings start.

Chris Blake's debut feature looks like a first outing - it's that fatal combination of too many ideas, too little coherence and a dull interchangeable cast. It takes quite a leap of faith to believe that the Denise Richards-a-like Ashley Pereira as Savannah is a successful writer (or indeed a writer at all - and there's a clue in there), and the insistence on cutting the action up into a series of fractured flashbacks which only resolves itself in the last few minutes makes for an infuriating watch. Attempts at conveying drama are created via a deafening portentous score by Waylen Thomas Hardy and Dave Moody which at times mercifully drowns out the dialogue. All pretty terrible.

Monster Party (USA 2019: Dir Chris von Hoffman) Casper, Iris and Dodge are three young housebreakers who see the opportunity for a big haul when Iris gets a gig as a catering assistant serving a party at a swanky house in Malibu. Casper in particular needs some cash to help his compulsive gambler dad out of a tight spot.

The party, organised by Roxanne Dawson (Robin Tunney) and her husband Patrick (Julian McMahon), is a strange collection of people who seem to have little in common with each other. But it transpires that the party is actually a support group of reformed psychopaths, with the enigmatic Milo as their leader.

The three housebreakers get ready to raid the home, until Dodge gets the worst end of the deal when one of the party, shall we say, falls off the wagon. Soon the remaining interlopers must fight for their life as the psychos all revert to their murderous ways to protect their secret getting out.

I haven't seen a movie with so many nutjobs under one roof since, well when did Rob Zombie last make a movie? Anyhow, despite its dodgy title this is a well made, exciting flick that keeps things simple; it's probably a testament to von Hoffman's background in short film making that a lot of the storytelling is done very economically; it's tightly scripted if a little too camp to be truly scary. But where it really succeeds, much as the early Purge movies did, is in its thinly veiled pop at contemporary American society, and about how the rich and privileged get to treat others (it's no coincidence that at one point Patrick says to Roxanne "It's time to make the Dawsons great again."). Recommended. 

Primal Rage aka Primal Rage: The Legend of Konga (USA 2017: Dir Patrick Magee) Primal Rage played at Glasgow's FrightFest last year and hasn't been seen since in the UK, which is a great shame. It's not by any means a perfect film; it's way too long for a start, and there's a whole middle section which drags, but it has lots of interesting things going on, and the gore effects (executed by the director) are stunning.

So Max has just got out of prison. He's picked up by his wife Ashley and between them they try and put their life back together. Things turn awkward when they run into some Deliverance types at a service station, and then, worse still, run over a guy who steps out in front of their car. Surveying the accident, it's clear that the bloke was in a rather dismembered state before they hit him. An accidental stumble lands the pair in a fast flowing river, and as if they're not in trouble enough the backwoods boys are out in force, preventing their return to their car, which in any event has been pulled off the road by a large, hairy...something.

I'm not a big fan of bigfoot movies, but Primal Rage does the sensible thing and doesn't make the whole movie about a monstrous primate. Being a small budget film, it can't get around the fact that a large part of it involves Max and Ashley trudging through the undergrowth - scenes which could easily have been trimmed to reduce the movie from its one hour and forty five minute running time. But the beast itself is an impressive (and incredibly resourceful) monster, and the body count rises quickly and messily; the final reel fight to the death is pretty thrilling stuff. There's some sub plotting about Indian mysticism which serves only to explain the beast's origins, but on the whole this is an exciting movie with a great score from Ceiri Torjussen. Still not sure what The Legend of Konga suffix means though.

American Nightmares aka Mr Malevolent (USA 2018: Dir Rusty Cundieff and Darin Scott) Ah a portmanteau movie! A sort of follow up to Cundieff and Scott's earlier Tales From the Hood films, this also features a largely black/Hispanic cast and is equally fun and inventive. Against a framing device of two internet blackmailers looking to net money from spy cam operations (who of course get theirs at the film's close), their own feeds are hacked by Mr Malevolent (Danny Trejo) and a mystic woman (Nichelle Nicholls) who broadcasts seven broadly left of centre EC/Twilight Zone style stories.

The first, 'Mates,' is about a woman, disappointed with men, who signs up to a dating agency that offers the perfect guy - who just happens to be a robot; 'The Prosecutor' has a corrupt would be Governor whose overzealous desire for death sentence prosecutions goes awry when he's involved in revenge from beyond the grave; in 'White Flight' a white racist bites off more than he can chew when he buys a time machine that transports him and his family back to an idyllic 1950s America. A sign at the entrance to the seemingly perfect town in which they they find themselves reads 'No blacks allowed. Ever.' but they find that this does not refer to skin colour; in 'The Samaritan' a prostitute is saved from certain death by a clown obsessed killer courtesy of the spirit of one of his previous victims; 'Hate Radio' sees a woman-hating bigoted talk radio host literally turned into a woman and experiencing the attentions of a serial killer; 'The Healer' has a snake oil preacher who makes money peddling false miracles abducted and turned into a real healer who physically takes on the ailments of all those he touches; and in 'Thy Will be Done' a pregnant girl is abducted by a pro life group just before she is due to have an abortion, only for the kidnappers to realise that the baby she's carrying isn't actually human.

Each of these stories is well done and, unusually for a portmanteau movie, none is a dud. It's not a movie you'd rush to see again, but it had me laughing out loud a few times and it's definitely worth a watch.

The Witch in the Window (USA 2018: Dir Andy Mitton) This isn't the first time that Andy Mitton's independent movie has been reviewed in these pages. Guest reviewer Satu Sarkas-Bosman's account of the film in her write up of the Mayhem Film Festival was spot on - it's a small movie with big themes, expertly acted, witty and quietly tragic. It's reminiscent of  David Lowery's 2017 film A Ghost Story although for this viewer Mitton's film had more emotional heft.

Simon is a dad, separated from his wife Beverley, with a young son Finn who divides his time between parents. Simon does up houses for quick resale and profit (or 'flipping' as it's somewhat disparagingly referred to in the film). Simon has found a house to flip in Vermont, and he invites Finn for an extended stay while he carries out building work. Only two problems with the setup; one, he has no intentions on selling the house - he has designs on it being the place that heals the rift between his family; and the second, it's got a witch living in it.

Unlike other genre films where the witch lurks in the shadows, Lydia, for that is her name, is on show for all to see, staring out of the window (hence the title) or sitting in a chair. Lydia is long dead but her very visible spirit lives on, and she wants the house for herself. Simon's in a tight spot - does he work through his intense fear of the spectre and finish the housebuild, or abandon the project and get the hell out of Vermont?

As well as A Ghost Story, the witch-in-broad-daylight look also brings to mind Sam Raimi's 2009 film Drag Me to Hell, but apart from some light hearted (and very believable) banter between father and son, laughs are rather thin on the ground. The final reel is surprisingly moving though, and at around an hour and a half, The Witch in the Window doesn't outstay its welcome. it's a worthy successor to Mitton's previous film, the equally intriguing 2016 movie We Go On.

Look Away (Canada 2018: Dir Assaf Bernstein) Some great wintry shots of Manitoba, Canada can't save this dull and by the numbers switched personality romp, essentially a straightforward thriller with an added weird element.

Maria is a young girl who lives with her loveless parents in a designer house from which every last bit of emotion has been drained. Dad is a plastic surgeon, the kind of guy whose birthday present to his seemingly flawless daughter is the offer of a bit of nip/tuck. Mum Amy has clearly had the life sucked out of her by a domineering husband, and as a result of all this Maria is basically wasting away, virtually friendless and borderline anorexic.

But a chance meeting one day in the bathroom with her reflection (work with me here) gives her a glimmer of hope. For her reflection is a separate entity called Airam - Maria backwards, geddit? Oh please yerselves - who promises Maria that she can help her get her life back on track. One mirror kiss later and Airam is on the other side of the mirror, with Maria trapped behind it. And of course Airam's agenda is a more extreme version of Maria's bucket list; kill the school bully, make out with her best friend's boyfriend, get back at her parents.

I know I bang on about film time duration a lot, but at an hour and forty five minutes Look Away is far longer than it needed to be. It's mainly shots of Airam being a bit evil, and there's way too much ice skating thrown in too. The duality of Maria/Airam is sort of explained, if rather unclearly, but I wouldn't be surprised if the story started out as a good/evil twin vehicle. India Eisley (Olivia Hussey's daughter, trivia fans) does reasonably well as the Maria/Airam character, and Mira Sorvino looks suitably bombed as mum Amy. But this is all terribly silly stuff, a PG horror with some interesting ideas but decidedly dull in execution.