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.   

Outlaws (Australia 2017: Dir Stephen McCallum)

Despite the rather unpleasant characters and violent setups in Stephen McCallum's debut feature film, Outlaws (original title One Per Cent) is a surprisingly conservative gang movie about loyalty and rivalry (what else?) in the wild lands of Australia.

Mark aka Paddo (Ryan Corr) is 'Vice President' of a motorcycle gang called Copperheads (all the members have their name and job title on their jackets, which probably comes in handy at staff conferences) who, when we first meet him, is trying to save the skin of his mentally incapacitated brother, Adam aka Skink (Josh McConville). Skink has been set up to diddle a rival gang out of a stash of heroin, and they are justifiably annoyed. But Mark thinks he can save the day - and his brother - and maybe rise in the ranks a little, by negotiating a deal with them. The only problem is that Copperheads' president Knuck (Matt Nable) is just about to get out of a three year prison term, probably won't agree to any deal he hasn't brokered, doesn't do deals with anyone anyway, and is still very much in charge.

Knuck's girlfriend Hayley (Simone Kessell) just wants him to get home and settle back into being boss again, but Mark's girlfriend Katrina (Abbey Lee), has other ideas, willing her boyfriend to take over the operation by stealth or murder, whichever's quicker. It's a tense situation all right, as the gang begin to turn on themselves, and everyone is asked to pick a side.

Sons of Anarchy meets Macbeth, claims the movie's admats, but Outlaws doesn't really offer anything new or indeed as satisfying, with its bickering gang members, gritty locations and generally pallid sense of lawlessness. Ryan Corr looks a little too squeaky clean to be a gang member, as does his scheming partner, Abbey Lee. Matt Nable and Simone Kessell look more the part, Nable in particular a snarling bundle of anger that seems hell bent on starting one fight after another. Knuck is all about power - an interesting if exploitative character angle has him sodomising his opponents to assert his absolute authority (including his accountant - giving a whole new meaning to the phrase double entry book-keeping), never being at home to the fact that he might be gay. As Skink Josh McConville only seems to exist to do stupid things which give the plot the chance to advance, making it difficult to sympathise with this rather pathetic individual.

As an example of Ozploitation, Outlaws, while never less than watchable, is incredibly tame against the likes of say, Snowtown (2011) or Killing Ground (2016). The camera often looks away from the violence, which would make sense if the director wanted to focus more on the drama. But the drama here is constructed around characters that are both thinly drawn and profoundly unsympathetic. It scores points for a great and very tough soundtrack which sadly only reminds the audience that what they're watching, while not exactly pleasant, is no way near as gruelling as possibly Stephen Mccallum wanted it to be.