HP’s head honcho is Finlay McCoy (Jimmy Roberts) whose frustrations over his inability to land a true haunting cause tensions with his team members, namely Seamus (Nashville), Emerson (Tara Buranakul) and Finlay’s sort of girlfriend, their American mentor Blair (Parker Paige). After a potential haunt in a Doncaster Air BnB turns out to be a hoax, Finlay’s problems deepen when he gets into a spat with the property’s owner and a rival paranormal expert, Rosie Watts (Kate Hargrave). He’s almost given up the ghost (pun very much intended) when Finlay gets wind of a couple, Violet and Gemma (Lauren Grendon and Sekki Tabasuares) living in a supposedly haunted house, inherited from a git of a grandfather who disapproved of them being both a same sex couple and married.
But just when it looks like this house might be the real deal, along comes Rosie, and the two ‘experts’ battle for the right to claim the house’s entity for themselves.
For most of its length, Heraldry Paranormal follows the path of many cheaply made camcorder movies wherein a group of admittedly fun characters goof around in a relatively unscripted way, and it’s hard to get excited about the setup. But things change for the better once the team arrive at Violet and Gemma’s house, building to a reasonably exciting (and occasionally quite scary) climax. Nashville does as much as he can with a threadbare budget (a secret room on the first floor of the house which bizarrely leads to a basement is a nice touch) and the ‘diss’ videos which map the ongoing feuds are pretty funny.
It’s a little overlong and you have to like the characters to get on with this; in particular grumpy Finlay can seem like ‘a lot’. But I liked the freewheeling nature of it, and the shift to horror towards the end is well navigated.
Community heath nurse Eric (Paul Casar) and his medical student assistant Melissa (Daisy Jelley) are doing the rounds, administering flu jabs to the housebound or those who otherwise couldn’t get protected. They’re an awkward pair – you get the sense that Eric is uncomfortable around younger women – but they have a job to do. And their next visit is to the home of Doris (Terry Bamberger from this year’s Daggers Inn), living with Alzheimer’s, and her husband/carer Fred (David Sterne).
Arriving at the house, they find it in considerable disarray; the couple are clearly in need of assistance. While his wife seems almost comatose, Fred, resistant to any intervention, is obviously an alcoholic. But when Eric administers the jab, the old woman finds reserves of energy, punching the nurse and shouting “he will return!”. This is the point at which Hoarder changes from a dark social commentary comedy to, well, a dark horror comedy, although the secret of what lies within the house is never fully divulged; the only thing we know is that the ‘hoarder’ of the title may not just refer to the house’s human occupants.
I really liked Owen’s slow burn approach to the horror elements of this movie; indeed little happens for the first hour (although a prologue hints at the nastiness to come) and most of the tension lies in what Eric and Melissa uncover in the course of what they think is a routine house visit. A great set design thoroughly convinces the viewer that Fred and his wife live in deep squalor and our health care professionals are also very believable (Owen is an ex surgeon so I guess the medical details would be accurate). There are a few head scratchy plot points, but I’d advise you to enter into the dark spirit of the movie; there’s a lot to like.
The three then set out on foot, mother and daughter hostage to Felix, but Katarina’s initial confidence that she can guide them to town fails when they become hopelessly lost. Happening on a cabin in the woods, a hoped for rescue point becomes the start of a nightmare for all three.
Ok if you’ve seen a handful of genre films you’ll know how this one ends, and I’m guessing that Morgan knows you know, because Binding Eva isn’t about the arrival; it’s about the journey. Specifically Mum, daughter and criminal’s journey through the forest, with night turning to day and back again, a trip which feels increasingly divorced from reality.
I’m not sure I needed some of the more obvious folk horror elements – goats, skulls and a presiding witch figure included – but the changing relationship of Felix and Katarina, a superb performance from Wood as 7 year old Eva, and a growing sense of unease and regret raised this one above standard lost in the woods fare.
Here a boatful of creators and camera hungry young souls, all buff bods in swimsuits talking over the top of each other excitedly, rock up on an island as the freebie guests of hotelier David (Andy Nyman in good moustache twiddling form). David is VP of Infinity Dream International and he’s looking to get some good media coverage of his latest beachside facility, courtesy of his guests. Despite his company’s eco credentials, there’s plans for further hotel expansion into the island.
Undercover reporter Clara (Rose Williams) is looking to run an expose on IDI’s less than ideal eco track record, while at the same time hanging out with her dad, retired actor Curtis (Tim McInnerney) with whom she’s become estranged, and who runs a shabbier hotel (and almost 24/7 bar) on the same piece of land.
Nothing is spared for the guests’ comfort, with the exception of the air conditioning, which is on the fritz because of a blockage (check the movie’s title). While David assures the party guests that none of the island’s flora and fauna are in any way dangerous, this is clearly a fib; and you could trust him about as far as you could throw him, for he’s determined to keep the operation going even after the indigenous arachnid population begin their revenge.
Yes you’ve guessed it, we’re back in Jaws territory, or more precisely Jaws ripoff Piranha (actually make that Alexander Aja’s 2010 re reboot Piranha 3D) but with more legs. Smith’s broad humour, sometimes a bit cloth eared (a comedy character nicknamed mongoose, whose mum shortens his name to ‘mong’ anyone?) generally plays well, and the CGI spiders are very effective; I’m not an arachnophobe, and even I got a bit wigged out at times. As mentioned, Nyman and McInnerney both steal the show here; they get the best lines, and effortlessly upstage most of the rather vapid younger cast. Perhaps that’s the point.
The ‘G’ of the title refers to Glasgow, home for three slacker chaps, with little to do except reminisce about their camcorder film making days. Media studies student Bill (Danny McAllen), who’s overqualified for a street cleaning job but seemingly unable to hold down any employment, kicks his heels with his mates Peter (Stan Ross) and Ronnie (Ruben Ross), the former some kind of policeman, about to be posted to London.
But the three are about to be unsuspectingly launched into an intergalactic adventure; a group of aliens, diverted from their planned invasion of London, have somehow landed in Glasgow. All of their cultural homework is now worth zilch, but the extraterrestrials, headed up by Dazinger (Mark Dallas) and lieutenant Nyah (Annabel Logan) pursue their invasion plans by taking over the bodies of locals (cue lots of regional stereotypes) and setting themselves up in an office block. Bill has his work cut out convincing his mates about the takeover, eventually roping in street corner brochure waving crazy Alistair (Matthew Crawford Russell), whose ranting about aliens turns out to be on the nose. But when required to quiz a captive alien, his interrogation techniques prove less than effective, so it’s down to the three lads to stop Scotland – and maybe the rest of Britain – from being dominated.
While Welcome to G-Town could sure use an edit – the whole mid section meanders way too much – McAllen and the Ross brothers are pretty fun to be with, and the McQuaids have a keen sense of anarchy, with touches of Claymation effects, practical gloop (no generative AI in this one) and the whole cast going for it. Glaswegians don’t get off lightly here (one senses the directors’ ennui seeping into the script) but everything gets pulled together for a rather sweet end. No masterpiece then, a little lengthy, but in parts very, very funny.
Her latest is a long overdue look at the amazing life of Charles Band, a director and producer of over 400 films whose tenacity, as John Carpenter observes in the film, would enable him to survive a nuclear holocaust; along with the cockroaches.
Full Moon Rising charts Band’s numerous rises and falls, mainly through a series of talking heads (including Band’s own), starting with his influential filmmaking (and acting) mother and father – and yes Band still maintains he was babysat by Marilyn Monroe – to his first steps into directing. This was 1973’s Last Foxtrot in Burbank, a long thought lost satire of Last Tango in Paris (obvs) with Michael Pataki doing his best Marlon Brando, and a movie which gave Carpenter his first paid job in Hollywood.
Band’s hucksterish ways – pre-selling movies, for example, to get the cash to make them, mainly based on a title or poster – was pretty standard behaviour in low budget films. But Charles made a success of it, forming Empire Pictures in 1983 and going on to reap rewards by expanding his operation to Italy.
The documentary recognises Band’s ability to remain ahead of the curve, both in cornering the direct to video market – pretty much unknown in the 1980s – and later adapting his Full Moon production company to streaming services. It’s a career that’s seen its fair share of ups and downs – the shady money men moving in at the end of Empire and Band’s attendant financial problems, and cashflow issues resulting in film crews failing to be paid – but through it all Band has continued; and three wives later, it’s hard to find (on camera anyway) anyone who has a bad word to say about him.
Like all good documentaries, Full Moon Rising makes you want to seek out more of Band’s films, although in terms of his later output that’s an itch you can scratch fairly quickly; but there’s no denying that, under Empire International, he gave us a series of skillfully made, inventive low budget movies easily equaling anything produced by Roger Corman.
The creation of co-director Jake Kuhn and Noah Stratton-Twine (who also wrote the film’s sumptuous score), Jack Redmayne plays Jim Baitte, a movie sound guy whose attempts to make reliable field recordings for a forthcoming feature are failing to impress producers Teddie (Dashiell John Blanchett Upton) and Bill (Jason Hogan). Director P.W. Griffin (Os Leanse) wants to go in a different direction, namely a voiceover on the soundtrack. Impressed with the sound of a girl he heard while he was in a diner in Pincer Point, he tasks Jim to track her down and record her voice.
Jim, who in an earlier scene mysteriously received a bite from a crab at his London flat, travels to Pincer Point and, via the rather odd locals, finds out that the voice in question belongs to Marina Hurley (Alyth Ross) and, courtesy of her brother Hollis (Stratton-Twine) that she is missing. Jim is drawn into a mystery in which he becomes a focus, including talking crabs and a ghost frigate, ‘The Bucken Rider’ and its otherworldly master, Captain Telson.
TPaPP looks amazing. Filmed in academy ratio in luminous black and white, with painted backdrops, models and other technical sleights of hand (no AI was involved, the filmmakers emphatically announce) although filmed in Suffolk it conjures up a distinctly other worldly feel, like a Blighty version of one of Thomas Pynchon's more out there works. It’s a freewheeling piece, largely improvised, and its 'Mighty Boosh' style humour won’t be for everyone; there’s also more than a slight borrow from the ‘Clem Fandango’ recording scenes featured in Toast of London. But if quirky characters (Redmayne is particularly appealing in a scatty way), a shaggy dog narrative and a sense of anarchic fun are your thing, you’ll find a lot to like here. “It was supposed to be a horror,” said Stratton-Twine in interview, “but when we saw it come together we realized it was a comedy.” The dedication to Roger Corman at the end of the movie is spot on; as well as the aforementioned crabs, there’s a Cormanesque sense of getting the thing done with enthusiasm and meagre resources. A sequel is already planned.
