Horrorthon 2007 (Part 4 - The End)

Slightly later than planned (that should be this blog's motto), it's the conclusion of my thoughts on this year's Horrorthon in Dublin.

After the disappointment of SHROOMS, things picked up with Stuart Gordon's STUCK. This based-on-truth thriller is a violent and gruesome (yet simultaneously rather amusing) drama that makes the most of few locations and a very small cast.

Mena Suvari is the young nurse for whom things are just beginning to look up when, alas, she slams into a homeless man with her car while off her face. Even more unfortunate for her is that the hobo (Irish actor Stephen Rea, as fantastic as always) is not only in a bad way as a result of the accident, but is also stuck in her windscreen/windshield (delete depending on which side of the Atlantic you live on).

Panic and fear leads her to hide the car in her garage while she figures out what to do, a panic that grows when she discovers that the body stuck in her car is still very much alive. The longer she leaves him, however, the more trouble seems to approach; in the end, it'll come down to either "him or me".

Solid performances (it's about time Suvari actually appeared in something good again instead of Orange adverts like every other washed up has-been) and Gordon proves that while he might not be in the outlandish horror territory he's known for he still knows how to ratchet up the tension. As mentioned before however there are still plenty of laughs to be had (if you have a particularly dark sense of humour) at both the situations and twists, and the gruesome moments that will have you wincing between giggles.

For the late night screening there was again a choice. while normally I'd have gone for SKINWALKERS since it's the one I'd not seen, there was no way on Earth I was going to miss the chance to see FOR Y'UR HEIGHT ONLY on the big screen in a cinema full of like-minded individuals. I'll not talk at great length about it, since I already have done as part of my sporadic Gobsmacking Cinema series, but suffice to say it's the pinnacle of appalling-yet-brilliant bad movies. I've never laughed so much in a cinema since... well, actually, I don't think I've ever laughed this much in a cinema.

Monday's opener was HOOD OF HORROR, a kind of portmanteau horror film hosted by Snoop Dogg. Sounds terrible, doesn't it? Well the reviews I'd read of it seemed to agree so when I discovered that there was another film I wanted to see elsewhere at the same time, I skipped it. More on the other film some other time (again, if I remember).

Instead, the first film I saw on the Monday was Tim Sullivan's DRIFTWOOD. It's the tale of a young man sent to a behavioural correction facility for youths where he discovers exactly how horrific teenage life can be when you're dumped in the care of power-crazed authority figures intent on shaping you into a fine, upstanding citizen.

The premise - yes, these places actually exist - is terrific and there's a great film to be made about it, but this isn't it. There's a half-hearted supernatural element involving the lead character's dead brother which just seems to be at odds with the general tone of the film, the large cast of young lads (especially US TV's Ricky Ullman) make it feel like a made-for-TV horror movie for young teenagers and worst of all the villain is played by Diamond Dallas Page, a wrestler who can't act. And I mean really can't act. Not a classic.

Things changed for the better with the penultimate film. I'm sure most of you have seen Steven Spielberg's epic sci-fi parable CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND. I thought I had. However, until I'd seen the director's definitive cut in a brand, spanking new remastered print on the big screen, I'm not sure I had. It's everything I remember and more. Not having seen the movie in cinemas on first release I was grateful for the opportunity - if you get the chance I urge you to take it. This tale of alien visitation and the effects it has on ordinary folks is absolutely spellbinding and is the reason cinemas exist. Towards the finale when the famous mothership appears in all its glory, there is a hushed awe that washes over the spectators. The same moment produced a similar effect on the people lucky enough to be at this screening.

Finally, the closing night film was PLANET TERROR. If you're not familiar with it, it's Robert Rodriguez's half of the double bill that was originally going to be released as GRINDHOUSE (the other half we've already seen as Quentin Tarantino's DEATH PROOF). The pairing was conceived as a tribute to the grindhouse trash cinema experience of the seventies, with the two directors not only making the kinds of movies you only saw then but also going out of their way to make them look the part. They even got guest directors in to make some fake trailers for other made-up seventies trash. The package was complete.

Then it bombed in the USA so they decided to split them up and release them separately. Tarantino's suffered when he added stuff back in for the full length version - too much talk, not enough Kurt Russell killing people. So does Rodriguez's half suffer the same fate?

Not a bit of it.

PLANET TERROR is the most insane and most fun movie you will see in a cinema this year. The plot, in a nutshell, sees some villains accidentally release a gas that turns people into zombies. So far, so seventies. So what works in the film's favour?

Pretty much everything. The seventies look is as perfectly replicated as the plot (right down to damaged film, missing reels and the inclusion of one of the aforementioned trailers); the music is a fantastic electronic score that is reminiscent of the best of the late-seventies and early eighties works of people like Lucio Fulci and John Carpenter; the gore effects are relentless, jaw-dropping and almost non-stop; the action is not only terrifically entertaining, it's frequent - far more so than the talky DEATH PROOF; it's gory, it's funny and it never takes itself too seriously. Everyone in the perfectly cast flick looks like they're having a ball - Michael Biehn's sheriff; Freddy Rodriguez as the put-upon hero; Rose McGowan as the stripper with a machine gun for a leg; Josh Brolin doing his best Nick Nolte impression.

There's so much to recommend PLANET TERROR that I can't fit it all in here - and I've not even mentioned Quentin Tarantino's guest appearance as the villain who gets his... well, just wait and see what happens to him.

Not for the faint-hearted, but easily one of the must-see cinema experiences of 2007.

And that's it! More non-Horrorthon stuff soon!

Horrorthon 2007 (Part 1)

I was surprised when looking over the programme for this year's Horrorthon (a horror film festival held around Halloween each year at the Irish Film Institute) at just how many of the films I'd already seen but that's not to say I was disappointed. On the contrary, it provided me with a chance to see some classics on the big screen, not to mention allowing me a couple of gaps in my viewing long enough to actually allow me to go out and eat occasionally.

The opening night consisted of the eagerly anticipated horror comic adaptation 30 DAYS OF NIGHT. It was certainly eagerly anticipated by me. More's the pity then that to save a little bit of money (I was late in booking a hotel) and due to a lack of holidays (too many film festivals) I didn't actually get there for the opening night. That meant I also missed James Wan's DEAD SILENCE, a shame since I was really quite interested in seeing this effort from the SAW creators.

So the festival for me kicked off properly on Friday afternoon with a screening of the completely insane MOTEL HELL. If that sounds familiar to you, it's because I saw it at the Glasgow Film Festival earlier this year. I wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to see it again though as stuff like this doesn't pop up in the cinemas very often, particularly in such a fine print. Crazy fun like they just don't make anymore.

And then to another one I was already familiar with. FRIDAY THE 13TH: THE FINAL CHAPTER (guess what, it wasn't really the final chapter) sees the return of Jason Vorhees who, in a brave departure from the previous films in the series, spends the film being really hard to kill and slaughtering naughty teenagers in a forest on the shores of Camp Crystal Lake. Yeah, okay, it's not a departure at all, it's the same thing again - but when a formula works, why change it? I love eighties slasher movies and the FRIDAY THE 13TH films are among my favourites. This one is notable for appearances by Crispin Glover (who I struggle to watch without wanting to shout "Hey McFly!") and eighties kid legend Corey Feldman. There's gore aplenty (courtesy of the great Tom Savini) and a fair amount of humour - some intended, some not - love it or hate it, you'll certainly not get bored. I for one am glad that the title turned out to be a misnomer.

Because I'm always trying to see Scottish films whenever I can, I was interested to see Robbie Fraser's low budget tale of love and drama among role-play gamers in Glasgow. There's enough humour in GAMERZ to keep the plot ticking along when it otherwise gets a bit dull, but in the end I can't make up my mind if this film is an attempt to humanise the stereotypical gaming geek or if it serves only to reinforce the image. Watchable but flawed - still, at least it's a Scottish movie that isn't just about alcoholics, junkies, gangsters and poverty-stricken kids from broken homes.

Having already seen BOTCHED (see last night's post about the Cork Film Festival) and Joshua (see my Edinburgh Film Festival coverage) I took the opportunity to skip out for some food. I was glad that I returned in time for the late show however...

Survivors from a wreck at sea find themselves washed ashore on a strange island where small doll-type-things lurk in the bushes waiting to attack and strange things start to happen, most notably the discovery of an acid lake (no reason is given). No, this is not the next season of LOST. It's the stupendously named ATTACK OF THE BEAST CREATURES.

This mid-eighties oddity truly defines the term "low budget horror", while ensuring that the quality is perfectly commensurate with the amount of money spent on it. As a movie it's a failure in almost every way except for the one most important aspect - it's entertaining. To call the plot basic is an understatement; to say it's well scripted would be a lie; to say the acting is wooden is to insult trees; and to describe the special effects as, well, special, is just wrong. The creatures are clearly some kind of puppet construction, thrown about by hand and made for zero money; some of the gore effects are rather entertaining in a quaint way; and thrown together with the absolutely dire filmmaking on offer, ATTACK OF THE BEAST CREATURES turns out to be the perfect late night movie to watch in a cinema full of like-minded people who know how to enjoy such movies.

Actually, now that I think about the film again, I really do hope the next season of LOST is like this. If the makers of the hit TV show want to spice things up a bit, then lets stop with the romance and whinging about dead family members and instead get some 12-inch puppets running rampage round acid lakes. That's what the viewers all want to see. They just don't know it yet.

To be continued...

HOSTEL PART II... it's not very good

First of all let me apologise if, rather than reading this on the main blog, you're reading it via the site feed. I've been updating labels on old posts (in order to be able to have similarly-themed posts easily available) and thus any old post that I update appears in the feed whenever it refreshes. Apologies - it'll keep doing that until I'm finished, so sorry for all the old posts that are going to keep reappearing. If you've no idea what a site feed is or what I'm talking about, just ignore me, the blog is still the same.

So I finally got round to seeing HOSTEL PART II a few nights ago. Oh dear. I'm beginning to wonder if this whole "torture" fad is actually a reference to the people in the films or the poor sods who pay their money to sit through them.

I was assured by the young lady who sold me the ticket that it had scared her something awful. I am doing my best not to sound really patronising or up my own ass, but honestly, if this is something that can genuinely be called scary by even the most casual of viewer, then the quicker this subgenre of horror dies, the better.

It's not scary. It's not even close to being scary. It falls into the class of horror that seeks to provoke a reaction by revulsion and disgust, not by generating scares. Scary films? BLACK CHRISTMAS, THE INNOCENTS, CARRIE - they're all films that generated scares with the slightest of touches, not loud noises and the removal of body parts. And in case you think I'm just railing against modern horror in general, I'm not - I'd also point to that moment in the original Asian version of RING (you know the bit I'm talking about - with the telly) as being something that is genuinely scary in a creepy kind of way.

HOSTEL II on the other hand is just a mess, with no inkling about horror at all. Director Eli Roth is too keen to prove his love of 70s horror that he forgets that even in some of the most banal of video nasties there was still a story, some interesting characters, something to make it work. Roth just thinks that gore and tits will be enough and to be honest it's not like he even delivers much of that.

Sure, there are some graphic scenes, but not as graphic as you might think given that a lot of it happens off screen. Then there's the fact that it's all chucked in amid snippets of half-story, a dull retread of the original movie that is populated by two dimensional stereotype characters, characters that Roth attempts to make less stereotypical by having them all suddenly change personality at the drop of the hat. Ooooh, how unexpected! Except when I say "unexpected" what I really mean is "utterly pish".

One of the highlights of the film, featuring a joke that about 0.5% of the audience will understand, is when CANNIBAL HOLOCAUST director Ruggero Deodato pops up in a cameo as a cannibal - but as amusing as that scene was to me, it also highlights another of the flaws in Roth's constant "homage" to 70s horror (in CABIN FEVER, he lifted a significant portion of the soundtrack from LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT... subtle). If you're going to keep throwing in people like this (Eurocult icons Edwige Fenech and Luc Merenda also pop up) it can only have two outcomes. Either the audience has no idea who they are, in which case it's pointless, or else the viewer knows exactly who they are and are only reminded how much better the films of these guys were compared with the bobbins that's on screen at the moment.

Think HOSTEL II is scary? Watch one of the other films I just mentioned. Think it's gory? Watch an uncut version of CANNIBAL HOLOCAUST or CANNIBAL FEROX and prepare to vomit. But just don't, whatever you do, go and pay your money to see this. If you ignore it, sooner or later this little area of horror will die off and the next big thing in horror will arrive sooner. Hopefully it'll show a bit more imagination than this tosh.

Nightmare USA

Better late than never. Well, unless today's entry turns out to be rubbish, in which case it would probably have been better never than late. Whatever.

You'll recall that I said I was off to the Nightmare USA Film Festival in London a few weeks back. I think you'll recall it anyway. I don't know, it's so long ago that I can't remember if I told you or not and I'm too lazy to go back and check. Thankfully I doubt you can be bothered either, so let's both pretend I told you.

The story behind this festival...

You may or may not be familiar with the wonderful publishers FAB Press. If you've wandered into this blog by following a link from one of my posts in an obscure movie forum then you probably have. If you're just here because you're one of my friends reading this in order to make it look like people actually care, then you probably haven't. They specialise in terrific books on cult and horror cinema, very often huge and definitive tomes on a particular genre or director.

One of their recent triumphs is the fantastic book NIGHTMARE USA: THE EXCEPTIONAL STORY OF THE EXPLOITATION INDEPENDENTS, a gigantic hardback covering the key films and directors of the obscure low-budget exploitation films that flooded the grindhouse cinemas of the 70s and early 80s. It is of course perfectly timed to coincide with the release of Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino's new filmic experiment GRINDHOUSE - or at least it would be if the film hadn't flopped so hard in the USA that it's getting split up and released over here separately, who knows when.

To promote the book, FAB Press hosted a day-long marathon of rarely seen exploitation films (indeed many, if not all, of them had never seen a UK cinema release, effectively making these their UK cinema premieres so many years later). The event was hosted by the author of the book, Stephen Thrower, who made a wonderful host, not to mention writing an amazing book. He's also the guy that wrote FAB's book on Lucio Fulci - see my disclaimer about how you found this blog to determine if you should know who Fulci is or not. He's one of my favourite directors, so let's leave it at that.

The afternoon kicked off with DON'T GO IN THE HOUSE - a lovely title for a nasty movie, despite me ripping the pish out of it in one of my earliest blog entries. The story concerns a troubled young man (Dan Grimaldi) who, following a hellish childhood at the hands of an abusive mother, develops a fascination with burning things. Especially if those things happen to be people, preferably young women that he's lured back to his house. A house in which he's installed a lovely metallic room for burning people in.

If the story sounds sick and twisted, it's because it is. That's what makes these old nasties of the exploitation world so lovable. That, and the OTT acting, which Grimaldi certainly doesn't skimp on either. They just don't make them like this anymore. Mainly because they're not allowed to.

Director Joseph Ellison and producer/writer Ellen Ellison were both on hand afterwards for a brief Q&A in which they regaled us with entertaining stories about the making of the film, including how they achieved the eye-opening special effect that dominates the film (namely a gobsmacking set-piece in which a naked woman is hung up and burned alive...). If you're of a certain disposition I guess I've really just put you off this film.

PIGS was next on the agenda, although this particular print was under its alternate title of BLOOD PEN. Call it whatever you want; I call it 100% mental. It's a very weird movie, in which the plot (involving a runaway and a crazy pig farmer among other things) is very definitely second to the pervading atmosphere of both dread and lunacy. Man-eating pigs, weird dreams and again some deliriously OTT acting (particularly from Marc Lawrence, who plays the main villain as well as directing the movie) make this an experience that once seen will never be forgotten. Think MOTEL HELL, but even madder. And with pigs.

BLOODY BROTHERS is an interesting experiment. When the two nasties that he helmed, AXE and KIDNAPPED COED made a reasonable sum of money on the grindhouse and drive-in circuit, director Frederick Friedel did not make a penny. Now, decades later, he has come up with a novel way of attempting to reclaim the films, not to mention a little cash. Playing on the fact that Jack Canon plays the lead in both films, Friedel has created a new story involving two twins raised separately but who go on separate killing sprees on the same day, a story achieved by editing together some footage from both films. Having never seen either of the originals, I can't say how they compare to this new composition but it's a noble experiment that pretty much works. I did find however that the film did drag in places, which makes me wonder just how dull the two original films must have been if this is an edited-together "greatest hits" compilation from both of them.

BLOODY BROTHERS was followed by SQUISH, a brand new Friedel short movie shot on video with practically no budget. It was gory and amusing, and was on sale at the event, as was BLOODY BROTHERS, in limited edition official FAB Press DVDs limited to 50 copies each. I didn't buy either as I wasn't crazy about the films, but I suspect opportunists will be putting them on eBay as we speak.

The penultimate film of the day was VICTIMS, playing here on a print bearing the alternate (and exceptionally tasteless) title PAULIE: DAY OF THE RAPIST. I probably don't need to tell you anything more about it.

But I will. It's another tale of a man who suffered abuse as a child, once more resulting in the by now customary mental issues later in life. While Dan Grimaldi's response in DON'T GO IN THE HOUSE was to go about burning women, writer/director Daniel DiSomma (acting under the pseudonym Tony Vorno) portrays a loony who decides the way to get even is through sexual abuse. It's the kind of depraved string of events that only happened in video nasties and drive-in trash and would probably not be recommended viewing for anyone if were not for a reasonably competent structure (playing around with flashbacks) and the performance of DiSomma. On a day dominated by barmy performances, his was the barmiest by far. Imagine a psychopathic take on William Shatner with mental issues with women, and you're halfway towards understanding why this film is actually a whole lot of (tasteless) fun instead of the unwatchable trash that it really should be.

Murder. Psychic powers. Lovely ladies. Mystic arts. Crazy dialogue, bad acting and odd facial expressions. Cheap special effects. A story that has no discernable structure and keeps having little breaks while loony non-sequiturs interject.

All these things and more are the ingredients of the final night's film, BOARDINGHOUSE, and yet even with these in mind you still have no idea of how bad (and yet simultaneously magical) this film is unless you see it for yourself. Saving this one for the end was a wise decision - most of the audience had enjoyed a few beers, and everyone was roaring with laughter throughout. If it was possible for a film to be clinically insane, this movie would be first through the doors of the nearest asylum. It might be a shot-on-video cheapie (no budget, or just ahead of its time?) but it more than makes up for its lack of, well, everything by the inexplicable lunacy that permeates the film from start to finish. Nothing I say can do this film justice, so let's just hope for a DVD release eventually. If it happens, get all your friends round one night and prepare for the maddest evening of your life.

And so ends a wonderful day. Stephen and all the gang at FAB Press deserve a lot of plaudits for both this event and the book itself. I also took the opportunity to pick up FAB Press's book A VIOLENT PROFESSIONAL: THE FILMS OF LUCIANO ROSSI. And if you're wondering who he is... well, the usual comments about how you found this blog apply.

That wasn't the only viewing I did while in London mind you; I made a weekend of it. But that's a story for another day...

One, two, tabloids are coming for you

You might have seen in the news recently that a young chap got into trouble for attacking someone using a replica of a Freddy Krueger style glove that he'd made himself as a result of his obsession with NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET. Being the tasteful guy that I am, I figured that's as good an excuse as any to dedicate a blog entry to a NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET marathon.

Yes, I know, it seems rather facetious but nobody was killed, the guy got life in prison, his victim had relatively minor injuries and booze was involved - nevertheless, the tabloid newspapers will now stir up some nonsense about how these films should be banned, and a policeman has already used the incident as an excuse to condemn horror films. I imagine we'll be getting John Beyer's opinion shortly. The idea that blaming such things on films frees the offenders of all responsibility doesn't seem to hold much weight with them.

I first began my marathon as a result of my love of 80s slasher movies and the fact that I'd only ever seen the original ELM STREET (and none of its sequels), and that was many years ago. I figured it would be the same old story - classic original, but rubbish sequels, constantly being trotted out to make a quick buck.

I wasn't entirely correct. It turns out that, actually, even the original movie is a load of guff. Seriously, have you watched it recently? Oh dear.

I realise a lot of 80s horror movies were bad - in fact, a lot of 80s movies in general were really bad. But I love them for it. I even watched ST ELMO'S FIRE for the first time just a few days ago and gained a bizarre sense of pleasure from it. But NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET? Jings, it's really awful.

The story, for the two or three of you who might not be familiar with it, is simple. Years ago, a bunch of concerned adults had a good old fashioned witch hunt which resulted in the death (via horrible burning and what have you) of kiddie-menace Freddy Krueger. Now he's back to kill the kids of all the adults who killed him (hideously scarred, naturally). Slight problem though - he can only appear in dreams. So he wanders through the kids' dreams, killing them all one by one - and of course, if you die in the dream you die in real life.

These days the film is notable only for it being an early appearance of screen icon Johnny Depp. Now I like the guy - he's got a bit of sincerity and integrity about him, he's a good actor and he doesn't really do the whole prima donna movie star thing. But Johnny, I'm sorry; even you were crap in this. (I'm also sorry that the last sentence might have got a really bad Fine Young Cannibals song stuck in your head... as if there's actually such a thing as a good Fine Young Cannibals song.)

The acting all round is terrible, even by 80s teen movie standards, and the same can be said for the dialogue and, well, pretty much every aspect of the film actually. This is a film that has dated really badly.

It's not entirely without pleasure, and a scene involving a bed and a lot of blood still entertains today. It does, however, remind me of the time I bought a video in HMV (the Blues Brothers Band live in Montreaux - it's still burned in my memory) and cut myself trying to take that stupid metal security thing off it. This too resulted in my bed being showered with my blood, though admittedly in smaller quantities than being massacred in my sleep by Freddy Krueger.

The acting actually slightly improves for the first sequel, PART II: FREDDY'S REVENGE. In case you don't know the plot of this one, jump back a sentence and read the title of the film again. While the acting improves though, everything else gets much, much worse - most noticeably the truly awful script.

I'm serious here; the film makes no sense at all. And not in an ironic, it's-a-dream-so-it-doesn't-have-to kind of way either - even the real world stuff makes no sense. Although now inhabited by a different family, it appears that Freddy has some kind of attachment to the house in which the heroine from the first movie lived. It's never explained why. Perhaps he was merely taking an interest in the property market and was just misunderstood by its new inhabitants. Then again, trying to murder them in their sleep maybe suggests otherwise.

So, we've established that there's no reason for this attachment. Just like there's no reason for him to suddenly start stalking the young boy who lives there. Equally bemusing is the sudden ability he's developed to manifest himself in the real world. Why? How? We're never told, and this ability was to be ignored in future sequels. Of course the other sequels were also terrible but at least they tried to stick to the rules.

Anyway, FREDDY'S REVENGE finishes with a sickening ending. I'd love to say sickening as in "the hero gets murdered by Freddy in an unimaginably gruesome way" but no, it's sickening as in "love conquers all". Sorry if I've spoiled your enjoyment of the film by ruining the ending but I'm afraid nothing can spoil the enjoyment of this film more than actually watching it.

On to PART III: DREAM WARRIORS. Now I realise that I said the sequels would ignore the bizarre real-world properties displayed in FREDDY'S REVENGE, but that doesn't mean they make sense.

Freddy returns from the dead. Again. How? No idea. Nancy, the heroine from the first movie, is neither dead (as the original ending might have suggested) nor insane ("A STRIPEY-JERSEYED BURNS VICTIM STALKS ME IN MY SLEEP! How was your day?"). Nope, instead she's a doctor who helps out in an asylum - because right enough, I'm sure loony bins are really quick to hire doctors who are clearly mental themselves.

Top of the "Are you kidding me?" moments of plot-shattering madness is the revelation that the kids in the loony bin all have a "dream power". No explanation is given for why children suddenly have dream powers, or why they are limited to only one power. Or indeed why the powers they have are so lame. How will we defeat Freddy - what special abilities do we have? "I can cross the road safely!" "I can polish shoes really well!"

Well, okay, so I just made those powers up but believe me, the ones in the film aren't much more impressive. The only good points are that Freddy finally gets an origin story regarding why he is so evil, albeit an exceptionally tasteless and totally nuts one; and there's a quaint battle with some stop-motion skeletons that is real old-school special effects stuff. Lovely. Awful film though.

This was followed by PART IV: THE DREAM MASTER, when once again Freddy returns for no apparent reason (what's the point in even killing him?) and this time we're treated to the latest stunning story development... by which I mean the latest aspect of the story that the writers have decided to make-up on the spot. It now turns out that when the kids are killed, their "dream powers" (I can't even write those words with a straight face) are passed on to the one surviving kid. Not that there's much point, because this film features the most ludicrously stupid (not to mention the easiest) method of killing Freddy yet.

Except obviously he didn't really die, or he wouldn't have turned up in PART V: THE DREAM CHILD. The convoluted nature of Freddy's return in this one is indicative of the generally contrived nature of the film in general. Another absolute turkey (at least the series is consistent) that is lightened up only by the make-up and death scenes.

That of course didn't stop them churning out another one. PART VI: FREDDY'S DEAD: THE FINAL NIGHTMARE attempts to add more depth to the whole Freddy Krueger mythology but ends up just screwing up the continuity (what little there was) of the existing story. The film is an enormous mess and when the best part of the film is Freddy mocking a deaf kid you have to wonder about the morals of the person who wrote it. And also the morals of people like me who found it funny, but enough about that.

There's also a psychedelic dream sequence which is one of the silliest scenes ever committed to celluloid but one of the biggest failings of this film is actually one that you might not notice if you didn't know about it already. This film was originally shot for a 3D theatrical release. All well and good - I like gimmicks, I like 3D films - but when it is then shown in plain old colour 2D on your TV at home it stops being a 3D spectacle of excitement and wonder, and becomes merely a lot of scenes of people pointing things at the camera with strange regularity.

If you know anything about long-running horror film series, you'll know that any film promising to be "THE FINAL [whatever]" is never final. However, I won't be bringing you my opinion of the post-modern PART VII because, although I've heard it's an improvement, I couldn't bring myself to watch any more films in this awful, awful series. I suppose I did see FREDDY VS JASON, but I'd feel like I was cheating by writing about that one before I cover a similar FRIDAY THE 13TH marathon. That won't happen yet though, because I've "only" watched the first eight films in that series. Yes, there really are more than that. At least most of them are actually good though.

The chap that I spoke about when I opened today's entry claimed to have seen the original movie around 20 times. Suddenly I understand why he'd try to kill someone. I had the same reaction after this marathon; only my wrath was directed at play.com for selling me the box set in the first place. Damn their summer sale.

FrightFest: Glasgow Film Festival 2007

The FrightFest programming on the Saturday kicked off at lunchtime with a screening of THE TRIPPER, a throwback to 80s slasher movies directed by David Arquette. It's an affectionate homage to a much maligned genre and it positively glows with nostalgia; it also recreates the atmosphere and plot contrivances of a typical 80s slasher movie too, but remains tongue-in-cheek without being outright spoofery.

The plot, as with all such movies, is pretty simple. A bunch of youngsters head into the country for a music festival and end up falling foul of a mysterious killer who picks them off one by one. There are a few familiar faces in the cast - Jason Mewes of CLERKS fame plays himself as always, Arquette pops up in a cameo as a redneck and Paul "Pee-Wee Herman" Reubens puts in a hilarious turn as a music promoter.

The film is a riot from start to finish - mad, unadulterated fun with a decent helping of gore and violence (in a funny way, naturally) but the real star of the show is the premise of the killer himself. I don't want to say any more in case I spoil it, but let me just say it's very 80s, very political and very, very funny. HALLOWEEN was never like this. I've no idea when this is likely to hit cinemas, but when it does be sure to see it with a crowd for maximum enjoyment.

Maximum enjoyment is not a phrase likely to be associated with documentary/horror hybrid S&MAN (which is pronounced as "sandman" in case you're wondering). It follows a filmmaker's attempts to interview a young low-budget filmmaker who appears to be stalking victims and killing them before selling the videos to fans of extreme horror.

The film is dull from start to end, and the look at the kind of extreme, low-budget shockers being produce by the depraved minds of the horror underground just reminds me how little interest I have in them. I won't even mention the people responsible as I've no desire to spread the word about their work.

THE MESSENGERS is an American film, but from the Asian horror masters the Pang brothers. Unfortunately, this effort proves to be just as uninspired as the numerous American remakes of Asian horror have proven to be. I used to like Penelope Ann Miller so it's a shame to see her slumming it in a turkey like this - it's full of cliche and predictable "frights" (I use the term loosely) and can best be described as horror by numbers. I gather it was a number one at the American box office but frankly that just reflects the downside of the current interest in horror - that people after their horror fix will happily watch anything in the hope that it'll be the next SAW. This isn't. It's not even for adults.

TURISTAS (which, we were told by FrightFest honcho Alan Jones, will be released under the new title of PARADISE LOST) is another attempt at grabbing a piece of the HOSTEL market. Youngsters trekking through Brazil find a lovely, secluded beach, get up to all manner of drunken antics and then fall foul of a bloke who runs a secret organ-harvesting operation that likes to prey on tourists.

This film is another failure. For large parts of the film, we are expected to simply admire how good the young folk look in their swimming outfits on the beach, underwater, etc. When the horror starts, it's simply a pale imitation of the other similar films that have gone before. Ever since SAW and HOSTEL enjoyed the success they did, it seems horror consists of a person being rendered helpless and tortured in a supposedly shocking manner, preferably in a dimly-lit, dingy little room, before making their action-packed final-reel escape. Whoopee. I defy anyone with even a passing knowledge of horror to be surprised at who lives and who dies. I had it pegged from early on and I'd be surprised if nobody else did.

I've no doubt that when it's released it'll do some reasonable box office but it's not particularly demanding fair and even on the level of exploitation it's not a real winner.

Praise be then that we managed to finish the day with a brand new print of classic video nasty MOTEL HELL. This sleazy little effort is a hilarious (sometimes deliberately so, sometimes not) tale about a dirty little motel that makes a bit of money on the side from a rather unusual meat product.

It's totally barmy, it's bad taste, it's over the top, it's everything that was great about late 70s and early 80s nasties and, best of all, it's got Rory Calhoun wearing a pig's head while having a chainsaw battle with another equally-armed guy. If that isn't why cinema was invented, I don't know what is.

The rest of the films I saw at Glasgow this year will follow sometime next week...

Don't go near the nasties!

I see that our friends at the British Board of Film Classification have reclassified yet another former "video nasty". The latest in the long line of once-derided titles getting a new lease of life under the now slightly more relaxed censorship laws is a film by the name of DON'T GO NEAR THE PARK.

The reason I mention this film in particular is that it is the perfect illustration of where the old "ban this sick filth" campaigners went wrong. By getting films like this banned, they ensured a notoriety and infamy that resulted in the films living on as legendary masterpieces of the depraved where, in many cases, leaving them alone would almost certainly have seen them die off soon enough.

In the case of DON'T GO NEAR THE PARK, it's difficult to describe how bad this film is to someone who has never seen it. It's equally difficult to describe what it's about, as it unfolds in such a way that you begin suspect that someone strung out on crack has suddenly decided to make a new horror film using twenty-five minutes of footage from three completely unrelated movies.

The acting is terrible, the story incoherent, the special effects unconvincing and the gore surprisingly minimal (the main reason for the film's original ban was undoubtedly the brief scenes of cannibalism, once a chief bugbear at the BBFC). Unlike other nasties such as, say, CANNIBAL HOLOCAUST, this film isn't difficult to sit through because it's so offensive - it's difficult to sit through because it's so brain-meltingly awful.

It also highlights the curious practice of video nasties to give themselves titles instructing people what not to do if you ever find yourself stalked by a killer. In addition to the aforementioned turd of a movie, horror fans of the video nasty era were also instructed DON'T GO IN THE HOUSE, DON'T GO IN THE WOODS, DON'T ANSWER THE PHONE, DON'T LOOK IN THE BASEMENT and DON'T OPEN THE DOOR. Even Jorge Grau's zombie delight THE LIVING DEAD AT MANCHESTER MORGUE got a couple of instructional retitlings, with not just the highly sensible LET SLEEPING CORPSES LIE but also, jumping on the DON'T bandwagon, the slightly more questionnable DON'T OPEN THE WINDOW.

Further confusion spread when DON'T GO IN THE WOODS found itself retitled on some UK video releases as DON'T GO IN THE WOODS... ALONE! Were we now to assume that the woods were perfectly safe as long as you had company? Do zombies and psycho killers only attack people with no mates?

You can see now why one shouldn't take these films as being in any way useful in educating oneself about how to escape from deranged nutters. Okay, so if you're out anywhere you know not go near the house, in the woods (alone, at least) or near the park. Fine.

But what if you're already in the house? The instruction DON'T GO IN THE HOUSE would tend to suggest that if you're already in the house you should get out. But how does one do that? We've already been instructed not to go in the basement, not to open the door and not to open the window, so that leaves us in a bit of a quandary over exactly how one escapes from the aforementioned house.

I think there is only one alternative left for such a situation, so I'm praying that there isn't some previously-unheard-of video nasty called DON'T CRAWL UP THE CHIMNEY.