Jimmy and Stiggs (USA 2025: Dir Joe Begos)

Joe Begos's world turned dayglow around 2019 when, following his first two rather sedate features (Almost Human and The Mind's Eye from 2013 and 2015 respectively), he leapt onto the stage at London's FrightFest with a battle cry to "watch this movie, motherfuckers!" and gave the world the vampire/art movie Bliss. Awash with bright colours, neon drenching and a lot of grunge, Begos set the tone for his movies to come. VFW, from the same year, was a more sedate but equally colour rich tale of veterans under siege in a bar; and the bright blues and greens lighting up his seasonal robo Santa movie Christmas Bloody Christmas (2022) were entirely in keeping with that movie's general er, excess.

Dayglow is present and correct in Jimmy and Stiggs, but sadly it's the only thing going for it. Like most of the director's films, the premise is brief. Jimmy (Begos, who also had a part in his last movie) is an unpleasant, unhinged film director whose latest project has fallen through (I'm guessing nobody wanted to work with him) and decides to snort and drink everything in sight to compensate for the bad news, ignoring his prospective date in the process. The result is a blackout, where 12 hours of his life go missing - but not entirely. His morning after recollections suggest that there may have been an attempt at alien abduction (and at this early point the audience are probably thinking that they're welcome to him).

Jimmy, who lives in an apartment littered with half empty bottles (I'm guessing he would never see them as half full), pills and powders, invites his friend and sometime filmmaking partner Stiggs (Matt Mercer, go to indieweird actor) round to help him figure what the hell's going on. On the TV Jimmy's hoovering up programmes about alien probes, but in case people are jumping to conclude that it's all in the guy's head, there are visiting aliens; and Jimmy and Stiggs must go to war with them.

The hyperbolic dialogue between the wretched pair is matched by attention deficit editing and a colour scheme which outdoes all his other movies; the best comparator here would be the insufferable characters in Ryan Kruger's 2020 movie Fried Barry crossed with the dayglow VHS nightmares created by Cassandra Sechler and Craig Jacobson. The practical FX, which look like they might be impressive, are lost in the oversaturated look, and there's only so long you want to spend in company of a couple of bums, one of whom has a death wish booze and drugs habit. Sure it's anarchic, over the top and relentlessly gloopy, but so's a custard pie fight, and I stopped finding them good value a long time ago. 

Jimmy and Stiggs is available on UK and Ireland digital platforms from 16 February 2026  

Missing Child Videotape (Japan 2024: Dir Ryota Kondo)

Keita Kodama (Sugita Rairu) divides his time between working in a grocery shop, sharing his small flat with psychically gifted room mate Tsukasa Amano (Hirai Amon) and devoting time to assisting in the location of missing persons. When we first meet Keita he's managed to track down a young boy, previously presumed vanished. "Big brother," whispers the rescued child, enigmatically.

The motives for the young man's extra curricular duties are disclosed via a journalist, Mikoto Kuzumi (Kokoro Morita), seeking an interview with Keita via Tsukasa; she enlightens him that thirteen years previously Keita's young brother Hinata had gone missing while the pair were exploring the same area. Keita's guilt over the still absent sibling is not helped by his mother sending him various possessions of his late father, including a video tape, shot by Keita at the point where Hinata disappeared, showing a mysterious and possibly haunted building which had subsequently also vanished.

Kuzumi, who is supposedly writing a positive piece about Keita and the recovered boy, digs deeper and, in classic J-horror fashion, discovers that the area in which the disappearances took place - Mt. Mashiro - has a history of similar incidents. The journalist, Keita and Tsukasa realise that if they are to discover the truth they must journey to the mountain and face their fears.

This is director Kondo Ryota's first feature, developed from a short film of the same name. Ryota's overall production steer comes via Takashi Shimizu, a name that should mean far more to fans of fantastic film than it may do; much of Shimizu's work as a director, outside of his Ju-On: the Grudge movies and 2004's excellent Marebito has failed to achieve a UK theatrical or even physical release.

In summary MCV could be seen as a 'greatest hits' of J-Horror; 'haunted' videotape; isolated rural location; spooky if unresolved narrative. But Kondo takes those elements and inserts them in a film less 'slow' than 'stop' burn; almost score-less, most of the film's scenes progress in near silence, a mood of gloom and despair prevailing throughout. There is a climax of sorts but anyone seeking tidy resolution will be left wanting. If there's a criticism it's that the performances are a little too underplayed to truly take hold, and the film's themes aren't fully developed, but there's no doubting the director's ability to create a mood of ratcheted up creepiness.

Missing Child Videotape plays as part of the Japan Foundation Touring Film Programme 2026 which takes place in cinemas around the UK from 6 February to 31 March 2026. You can watch the trailer here.