During the opening credits of Seed, real-life footage is seen of animal abuse and torture. This footage was received from PETA and director Uwe Boll (proud owner of two dogs) has pledged to donate 2.5 percent of the profits from the release of this DVD to charity. Although this opening footage isn’t completely necessary, it does provide a sort of dimension to the serial killer himself. He enjoys this torture and abuse, getting aroused by watching this horrific footage. In a way, it is powerful footage and adds magnitude to the killer’s wrath.

Uwe Boll has steadily been showing signs of improvement, and in many ways, this is among his most accomplished features. With his recent comedy being another effort among his failures, Uwe Boll decided to switch gears to the dying genre known as torture porn. Admittedly, this is a dully shot, dimly lit, and poorly acted film. However, it has got to be one of the most disturbing and graphic films I have ever encountered. These images that become lodged into the viewer’s brain look surprisingly substantial, due to the nearly undetectable CGI effects.

It accomplishes what most horror movies fail to do — it disturbs us to the point where we actually feel the terror. The horror is thick and merciless. And to think that Uwe Boll is responsible for making this happen is even more astonishing. A few awe-inspiring kills (yes, they actually look real) and a sudden, yet unsettling, ending to top off the madness left me rattled to the core.

Enjoyable? Absolutely not. This is a film that one doesn’t enjoy — it’s a disquieting experience, a film that one admires for its audacity and ability to disturb. It is in this area that Seed is brilliantly conceived and it is in this area that most horror movies manage to fall short miserably.

Don’t get me wrong, this will get criticized for the acting, pacing, lighting, and many other nearly uncountable aspects. But the execution here and the savage kills are perfected. A B-movie lightweight has turned himself into a one-hit cult director. One scene in particular involving a woman bound to a chair will leave you uneasy and questioning whether or not it’s real (of course, it isn’t). That is what makes Seed a one-of-a-kind movie in its own sick and twisted way. Bravo Uwe Boll, you have at last justified yourself. I have never been so ruffled by a film in my life. My hat goes off to Uwe Boll, a director who has improved greatly and has brought unrestrained violence to an expired genre.

The DVD’s special features include commentary by Uwe Boll, “‘Criticized’ - How a Filmmaker Gets Back at His Critics”, “Behind-the-Scenes with Cast and Crew”, trailers, and deleted scenes. I highly suggest checking out “Criticized”, a pitch-black comedy short depicting a sinister way for a filmmaker to put a scare into his critics.  3.5/5 stars

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Forget Agent Myers. This time around, it’s all about the freaks. With Hellboy II: The Golden Army, visual genius Guillermo Del Toro has crafted a veritable feast for the senses. The film sports a fistful of vivid action set pieces, a dozen or more monstrous creatures, and memorable moments by the barrel. It’s bursting at the seams with brilliant characters, each of them developed far beyond what was offered in 2004’s Hellboy.

Hellboy (Ron Perlman) is back, called to action after an exiled elf prince named Nuada (Luke Goss) vows to reignite a centuries-old conflict between the human and the mythical worlds using the fabled Golden Army. Aiding Hellboy in his mission are his fellow agents at the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense: Liz Sherman (Selma Blair), pyrokinentic; Abe Sabien (Doug Jones), amphibious psychic; and Johann Krauss (Seth MacFarlane), ectoplasmic being.

Whereas Hellboy served as an introduction to the B.P.R.D. and its strange employees, its sequel forgoes the pleasantries and plunges the audience immediately into a weird and intriguing world. Hellboy II just has a different feel to it, a fantastic whimsy paired nicely with the gritty detective edge of its characters. The fairy tale-esque tone of Del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth is apparent and welcome.

As mentioned, Rupert Evans does not reprise his role as John Myers. And though Evans did a bang-up job as the befuddled F.B.I. transfer in the first film, Hellboy II focuses on what’s important: the outcasts. Liz’s and Abe’s characters are greatly expanded, more closely resembling their roles in the Mike Mignola comics. Liz takes on a leadership role in the B.P.R.D., leaving the muscle-work to tough-talking Hellboy. And Abe doesn’t spend half of the runtime in an aquarium (and even has a love interest). The character of German mist-man Krauss is a welcome addition as well, as interesting and well-thought-out as any Mignola creation.

The film is refreshing in its special effects, utilizing animatronics and physical monster maquettes in many of its creatures. And the creatures are just fantastic – strange and unique and wonderfully grotesque. The Troll Market, one of my favorite sequences of the film, is bustling with all manner of oddities, like an infant that proclaims “I’m not a baby, I’m a tumor,” or a troll that eats stray cats.

The action is also top-notch, with plenty of swordplay, martial arts, and good, ol’ fashioned brawling. Hellboy does battle with everything from rabid tooth fairies, to evil elves, to mechanized trolls, and everything in between. It’s a flowing film, moving steadily, stopping only momentarily for the audience to stare in wonder, and wish that more filmmakers took moviemaking as seriously as Guillermo Del Toro.

With Pan’s Labyrinth under his belt and his name floating about in the mainstream, Del Toro is free here to make his film as wild, as entertaining, as creepy and as fantastically imaginative as he wants. And Hellboy II is certainly a great movie for it. As a huge fan of both Del Toro’s first film and Mignola’s comics, it warms my heart to see such a wildly imaginative blockbuster.

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Two features of this movie are abundantly successful: the showcasing of Michael Moriarty’s (Jim Wheeler) range and accomplishments as an actor and how refreshing it is for the viewer not to be treated at length to those childhood miseries dubiously thought responsible for pathology…even the murderous kind. No, the mayhem here is clear cut, predation for fun, possibly in preference to metal detecting or obsessing about personal relationships gone awry. In this somber atmosphere and in a spirit of “no rest for the victim” (or recourse) lies the movie’s best claim to horror.

Instead of staging one kill after another, one more creative way to strangle a victim (like with a dead rattlesnake) or to crush a skull (like with banging it with the heavy door to the luggage compartment on a bus) the viewer is provided an underlying action core as a bonus to what puts “serial” in serial killer, serial killers competing over territory. This reviewer is loving it already.

The victim the camera stays on longest (seasoned way of putting it) is the surly and well developed role of Stacia (excellently casted Fairuza Balk) the only prey in a long list coming close to a chance of escape.

Of course, as was intimated, much of the success is provided by the stunning performance of Michael Moriarty giving an incredible depth to his role as a predator exploring his own style of approaching the victim and setting up the kill to the extent of artistry. A brooding sinister attitude drips from every one of his delivered lines barely cloaked by a laconic sense of humor.

Talented as well is the multidimensional performance of Warren Kole as Walker (as in THE walker, his name not brought up) as Jim Wheeler’s rival. His is a role more typical of serial killing and, maybe, just a little more colorful…in a very bad way.

Direction, by Larry Cohen, typical to the Masters of Horror series, is remarkable in quality and in the artistic choices made. Although much of the storytelling expertise may be laid to its “creator” and writer, Mick Garris, along with fellow writer, David J. Schow, the flow and breaks of scene in this film are exceptional. As natural as peeling a banana.

I won’t give away the surprise ending, suffice it to say the movie has one. Will it offer you something lacking in The Hitcher? Why yes it will, three for the price of one….

No one under sixteen because of some nudity and a rather strange way of appreciating it.

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To what degree can man become the primary diet of something and in how many ways?, the concerns explored by a director revealed as a master, in this film’s making, of his genre. The monsters we tolerate to live among us, even with whom to sometimes bear children have finally met their match in Jenifer. She is merely the extreme example of what already exists among us, capable of killing their own and of justifying it where common sense and decency no longer prevail. But Jenifer (played by the alarmingly diverse Carrie Anne Fleming,) an obvious sub-species, for all her horror, is ingratiating enough to make a host out of some while making a meal out of others (she prefers entrails) and might be a fine mother to her own…at least she doesn’t bite the hand that feeds her and gives in return. The viewer will not be able to rightly imagine her ever working a provider into a financial grave with the help of an attorney. (No offense, ladies, that swipe is meant to cut at both sexes.)

Dario Argento’s mastery is in what he leaves his viewers to add to an already well established horror while they cope with interpretation. The imagination becomes its own instrument of extended flights into utmost horror realms even perhaps beyond any intended. Is this a subspecies or made this way? Does Frank Spivey (Steven Weber, noteworthy for his role as Jack in the TV mini series of The Shining) become infected by a scratch to fall under creature Jenifer’s spell or is he one of those sexual aberrants that require corpses and/or the bizarre to adequately perform? Significant developments throughout can support any of these excursions. As diverse as Fleming’s acting abilities run, so Argento’s directing creativity.

The make-up artistry done upon Fleming takes a penultimately beautiful actress and remakes her into a looks pariah. Frightening in aspects that can continue into dreamscapes to come. For years.

Adapted to script by our star, Steven Weber from a short story by Bruce Jones (hunting now for any collection of his short stories,) the story line observes the circulating ending some of the best horror movies from the past have. Not to digress further, however, than reviewers are allowed in resolving endings.

The chronology defeats one element in customary presentation of scene impact as a device to increase the viewer’s intensity of involvement, an asset taken advantage of in most horror films. The first human victim is a very pretty little girl neighbor, Amy (Jasmine Chan) from next door. The scenes built around this exploit its impact to the limit and, thus, what follows through the remainder of the film declines graphically in impact and seems but anti-climactic. And is.

Small bone to pick with a directing masterpiece. No one under sixteen for all sorts of reasons and heart patients, take your nitro with you.

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 To the investigative researcher a quest is a high, prolonged by the expectation to venture into the unknown (but rumored) realm. A point of no return, an even deadly one, can be exceeded by the occasional obsession incurred when dealing with explorations into madness. While many such exploits have been known among mindless pursuits of military conquest, few, beyond those to profile the serial killer, have been devoted to artistry alone…this one, that of film making.

Cigarette Burns makes the requirement of its viewer, in order to appreciate its reality potential or credibility, an acknowledgment of this element, so vital to the value of this movie’s interpretation. The madman, Charles Manson once remarked in an interview, “if they ever let me start killing I would get everyone.” Imagine something worse than this, imagine murder and mayhem obsessed to be the only purity.

At what point in this dramatic quest for a legendary film of such sinister promise does our professional searcher for the ultimate in movie making memorabilia Kirby (Norman Reedus) begin to show his own dooming fixation for it? Each along his way reveal a realization of the process which his becoming closer marks him more and more ominously. Until nothing comes to stand in his way of obtaining it, as much for himself, at this point, as for the rich aficionado that has hired him. A man already prepared to die. But for Kirby something different lies behind his intentions, something that might stand in better stead for him “on the other side”.

Kirby’s client, Bellinger (the exemplary Udo Kier) has decided on one last extravagance to add to his collection, one that he will become an indelible part of, himself. The captive angel, held to a stone and used in the making of the fate-binding, La Fin Absolue du Monde is already a living part of his macabre possessions. Under the adept direction of John Carpenter, these elements are woven into an horror movie in a class of its own, perhaps like, La Fin Absolue du Monde, a bit too well.

The writers, in order to obtain the extraordinary effects fitting to such a heightened expectation of horror establish a chronological order of events eerily on the order of occult ceremony with each linked to 1) The Warning, 2) The Invitation to Enter, 3) The Beckon of Favor, 4) The Blood Sacrifice, and 5) The Rite of Dedication (in this case death.) Surely among them, Drew McWeeny, Scott Swan and the creator, Mick Garris, is an informed awareness that goes beyond the usual tepid grasp associated with “magick by Hollywood”.

Although our supplicant hero is revolted by the senseless killing of his lady taxi cab driver by the snuff movie maker, Kaspar (Taras Kostyuk,) a murder done solely to impress a point of La Fin Absolue du Monde’s purpose, the “flashes” (cigarette burns) each closer step has given him reach the fourth stage of his “deliverance” to what lies behind the film’s making and he commits his own blood sacrifice upon Kaspar and his two henchmen.

The marks noted throughout (these flashes) begin with his listening to a tape of an interview  between the film’s reviewer, Meyers (Christoper Britton) and La Fin Absolue du Monde’s infamous director, Hans Backovic (Christian Bocher.) His next visit, to a film archivist that had operated the projector at the movie’s only known showing (occasioning an wholesale slaughter he barely escaped,) offers the viewer the first notice of Kirby’s impending doom once he’s been told about experiencing the flashes and replies, “then it’s too late”. Only then does Meyers consent to tell him how to find someone in contact with the Backovic estate.

Now, with the blood of Kaspar and his two men on his hands, Kirby ventures to find the surviving widow of Backovic, now known to have died. It is when he does, he learns the ominous truth about the film’s producer, something Backovic had only shared with her. With this and recollecting Kasper’s words, “What if you have an angel, divine being with the blood of God flowing through it’s veins and you sacrifice it?…”  Kirby realizes the full magnitude of what others have been intimating to him. Convinced by what he tells her, Backovic’s widow, Katja (the lovely Gwynyth Walsh) relinquishes the last remaining print of La Fin Absolue du Monde to him, knowing only too well he cannot turn back from this compulsion. The words, “wanting to do penance but knowing it’s too late” were her binding remorse felt for her husband’s memory. Keeping the film this long (one she hates) and now blithely turning it over to Kirby seems like a torch being passed.

Haunting guilt about the suicide of Kirby’s wife, Annie (alluring Zara Taylor) and his client’s own guilt over the way his wealth was acquired become instruments of what the subsequent showing will become. In the dying words of Bellinger, “It is not a movie, it is a preview of the coming attraction of the soul.” Indeed.

But the ending has its own act of contrition, one you’ll just have to see, though not with the faint of heart or anyone under 16.

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A scant two years after the amazing success of Kubrick’s, A Clockwork Orange, it’s star, Malcolm McDowell, conceived of an idea around which David Sherwin wrote a script. Under the direction of Lindsay Anderson this script became O Lucky Man, and not unpredictably its star was, Malcolm McDowell. All this becomes significant to the viewer as the movie progresses and some interesting similarities with A Clockwork Orange emerge.

While A Clockwork Orange looked at the underbelly of a crumbling criminal justice system, O Lucky Man conducts a string of side views of all levels of English society in decline, from a sometimes highly realistic standpoint, sometimes a burlesque, even surreal one. The effects become exaggerated towards the end by a device of inserting more and more of the same actors into different roles. On top of that, the matter isn’t helped any when Michael Arnold Travis (McDowell) displays a curious notice in many cases regarding these familiar faces gracing new roles. Almost like a picaresque novel in reverse.

The separate misadventures of our hero are broken by studio visits with Alan Price and his band wherein we’re regaled with a song sung by Price written to reflect the story line that has just ended. Two scenes are woven with Price and his band and a rich groupie who becomes more integral to our hero’s exploits. At no time, however do other members of the cast join in any score. Calling this movie a “musical” (which many critics have done) is like calling Natural Born Killers a comedy because it has a few (very few) comic reliefs.

Another silly comparison made is that of comparing Voltaire’s, Candide with this movie. Candide retains a blissful devotion to the ideal “this is the best of all possible worlds”, while Travis, perhaps slow in coming around, begins to develop a more and more refined sense of worldliness  than any blind optimism alone affords, believing far more in his own acumen than that of a society classed by estates and consumed by defining each person’s role in life by them.

The cast sports such icons of the English cinema as, Helen Mirren (Patricia, the rich groupie and daughter of Sir James Burgess (Ralph Richardson) who warns Travis of her father being, “the most evil man alive”. Arthur Lowes’ performance as Mr. Duff (Lowes has two other roles) begins a trend in the movie carried throughout of ominous foreboding. After giving Travis a resplendent showman’s suit (as might have been the symbolic representation of Excalibur to King Arthur or a thrown gauntlet before one’s feet) his last words to our hero, upon parting, are, “try not and die like a dog”.

Significant to this foreboding is the posture in which almost all the cast’s ladies come to find varying degrees of empathy for Travis. Sometimes as if sharing an almost last meal with the condemned…or even being sort of one. After the first grave mishap our gravely bruised and battered (and slightly tortured) hero is left wandering the countryside looking for a meal and a place to momentarily rest his head. Stumbling into a country church during service he lays down in a pew at the very back. Awakening he observes the Vicar’s wife (Mary MacLeod) and their two children preparing a setting for a Christmas pageant. Bountiful piles of food adorn the front and when the three depart, Travis goes for a loaf of bread. Discovered by the wife, she reacts, “no, that food is God’s.” That notwithstanding she cradles his head and offers her breast to indicate, one might guess, what is the food of man. The scene ends with him suckling the breast. (And this is not the best of MacLeod’s three roles.)

The height of this film’s intensity is reached in the next “episode” of these strung together misadventures as Travis is picked up by a car while trying to hitchhike to London. The driver suggests he agree to a short detour and consider a chance to earn 100 quid.. At an elaborate and Georgian manor-turned research facility, he is welcomed by staff and doctors for the important “contribution” he’s about to make to “medical science”. After an interesting bargaining session with the doctor-in-charge our hero signs on the dotted line and is ordered given a sedative. The nurse (Mona Washbourne), indicating some mothering concern, evidently doesn’t give him enough medication to knock him out and he overhears a little disconcerting overtone to what’s in store. While exploring the corridors he inadvertently stumbles into the room of a patient in agony only to find a thing with the head of a man and the body of a hog.

The entirely of the movie gradually envelops the viewer into part of it’s own framework, that of everyone outside Travis and his driven perceptions of success and an audience, half cast and half viewer, amused at what they see as self-defeat. Like those that might gather to see some preordained train wreck.

This reviewer saw the movie in 1973. Recalling A Clockwork Orange, while it was still fresh on his mind, the distinct impression (especially when viewing the attribution of O Lucky Man’s conception to McDowell in the credits,) that the young and brilliant actor might have some unfinished business with the former movie’s story line or directing.

Refinement or not, O Lucky Man does indeed take up where, A Clockwork Orange “leaves off”.  Yet still, as always, its success depends on the audience, in this case, sticking their head in a noose they may not wish to oblige with the introspection required. One that really tests the “virtue” of villain (Alex in A Clockwork Orange) with the tool by which much villainy is done, our hapless, Michael Arnold Travis.

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In a role almost tailored for actor Tom Cavanagh, George Grieves, unassuming, innocuous, even incredulous to a fault is brought to terms with all his secret fears. Fears whose horror is heightened by going from a circumstance of comfort and loving family setting to one of stark terror, increased and extended by the extent of his own “powers of expectation” unleashed against himself.

Such a setting has been experimented with many times in cinema before, but never comparable to this. Hitchcock was a master in directing psychological horror, yet he never envisioned anything on this scale. Clive Barker, even Stephen King could well treat the demons they inserted into their victim’s head, but again not near as well as progressed here. John Russell, John Collier, H. H. Munro, and the irascible Ambrose Bierce collaborating with Marcel Aymee could not invent a story line like this. It would take a conventionalizing of Franz Kafka (bringing him up to snuff) to make such a leap. Such a near criminal imagination. Shudder, shudder, shudder.

Director Tony Krantz and writer Erik Jendresen have succeeded the former masters in producing horror that sets its own standards. CHILDREN BY NO MEANS SHOULD BE ALLOWED WITHIN A MILE OF ITS SHOWING. Nor the faint of heart. This movie could well serve as shock therapy for the anal retentive. It’s already cured a few petulant little peeves this reviewer had. (I’m just happy not to be in any hospital.)

One of the best supporting performances given in this reviewer’s recollection is gifted the viewer in this criminally intense film. No irony it is in a role where a care provider becomes the ultimate sadist, the ultimate “inquisitor”. Delivered by Lawrence Hilton-Jacobs, the role is that of a character conjured up purely in the mind of our protagonist, representing a secret fear George Grieves has sustained by the guilt felt over whites once dominating blacks. Sustaining this interpretation is the very name accorded Hilton-Jacobs’ role, Mandingo.

Bear in mind one factual development and the scriptwriter’s elegant way of creating its foreboding, is the actual “iatrogenic disease” wrought upon our hero by incredibly bad medicine. The foretelling even adds to the viewer’s dilemma in trying to figure out what particular plane of the parallelism created is manifest, fears driving drug-induced hallucination or actual reality (not a contradiction in terms for this movie.)

Cross play between imaginary extra-marital exploits of Grieves’ wife (beautiful Kathleen York) with his offending doctor, Dr. Sharazi, played by Cas Anvar; with the concocted fantasy indulged by himself with a seductive nurse, all come to represent efforts within delusion to build a credible parallel for the viewer crescendoing to denouement. Is this all conspriracy against the poor man by collaboration of wife with doctor utilizing perverted players?

Actually that would be the easy way out, that more sane anyway. Ultimately the worse case scenario is realized, something like being buried alive without the prospect of delivering death, only worse. Until….what all the arsenal of symbolism employed, even that of the Tree of Life (most interestingly placed) come to resolve in contextual climax.

A movie where more thought is to be expended in resolving meanings after viewing than while.

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Critically acclaimed writer and director Frank Darabont (“The Majestic”) has proven himself quite adept when it comes to crafting hit feature films based upon some of author Stephen King’s best-selling novels. His previous attempts, “The Shawshank Redemption” and “The Green Mile”, resulted in great critical and commercial responses upon being released to theaters, and have found a special place in the hearts and minds of many movie fans along with becoming valued parts of many movie collections. So, when Darabont chose his next film to be based upon the novella “The Mist”, yet again written by horror-master Stephen King, expectations were understandably high in regards to his undeniable talent for crafting such excellent films based on novels, a task not easily accomplished by even the most gifted of writers or directors. The downside to being as successful as Frank Darabont has been in his previous adaptations is that, eventually he’s bound to make one that doesn’t quite resonate as strongly with his audience. Well, it seems that that moment has finally arrived with the release of the box office disappointment, “The Mist”, starring Thomas Jane (“The Punisher”) and Marcia Gay Harden (“Mystic River”).

“The Mist” is the story of a small New England town, that one seemingly normal day becomes immersed in this mysterious mist that appeared out of nowhere. At first the local townspeople believed the mist to be nothing out of the ordinary, that is, until one of their neighbors comes storming into the local supermarket scared to death and bleeding profusely from wounds he claimed occurred via creatures hidden within the mist. Now, these ordinary, everyday people must try to stand together to fight a series of extraordinary enemies, while trying to maintain their own sanity and keep their fears from tearing them apart.

I have enjoyed Frank Darabont’s previous adaptations of Stephen King novels, I found the prison drama “The Shawshank Redemption” to be a very solid drama, with incredible acting and storytelling on display; although I don’t consider it to be one of the greatest films ever made as some might. Darabont’s next effort was the death row drama “The Green Mile”, which to me, was the more superior film of the two Stephen King adaptations that he had made thus far. So, like many moviegoers I believed that his next attempt “The Mist” would be just as good, if not better, than the previous two; however, I was wrong.

“The Mist” is, for the most part, an entertaining drama with some horror mixed in from time-to-time. The story is well-paced, featuring plenty of strong character development, and very sharp, well-written dialogue, which is not surprising given Frank Darabont’s acclaimed skills as a screenwriter. Where the movie goes wrong, for me at least, is in the final 30 minutes or so of the film. When the people trapped in the supermarket begin to pick sides, it seems realistic to the point that in most cases any human being is going to try to find like-minded individuals in desperate times, such as those depicted in this film; however, I find it somewhat unbelievable that after only being trapped in the supermarket for a mere two days the people would snap so easily with common sense and rationale to the point they were willing to kill over their differences rather than finding a way to survive. Also, the final closing moments of the film were a little too disturbing for me, and essentially removed any sense of entertainment I had been feeling towards this movie, thus causing me to dislike this movie a great deal. I understand that the ending was probably realistic under such dire circumstances, although I would think had I been in those characters’ shoes, I wouldn’t have made such a rash, and as it turned out, rather unfortunate decision until it was clear that there was no hope left, and even then I’m not sure I would have gone with it. Some of you readers out there may disagree with me on that, and that’s fine, but I would think you’d have to admit that their reasoning for taking the actions they took seemed a little impulsive, especially when the strange noise they heard wasn’t like all the previous ones, which they previously had no problem waiting to discover just what was making the noise, so the fact that they gave such a knee-jerk reaction seemed out of character for each of them in the scene. I know I’m being quite vague about my dislikes for this film, but if you haven’t seen the movie, and are still planning on viewing it, I don’t want to ruin the specifics of what takes place in the closing moments.

The actors in “The Mist” were very talented group, each delivering very convincing, and believable performances given the strange circumstances occurring to the characters within the movie. Thomas Jane was a great choice to portray the loving father and impromptu leader of the trapped locals within the supermarket, as he created a very realistic character that was full of strong qualities mixed with a dose of arrogance that created a very palpable tension at times between him and some of his neighbors from the town. Marcia Gay Harden was surprisingly very convincing as the religious fanatic that feeds on the fears of her neighbors, seizing an opportunity to convert them to her beliefs of God, and isn’t remotely bothered by the means in which she gains followers. The rest of the cast was comprised of various character actors, which I personally don’t know the names of though I recognize them from other movies I’ve seen them in. Each of them did a wonderful job in bringing realism and a mostly neighborly quality to their characters. The downer to having such a solid cast in this movie is that when the craziness begins to set in around the halfway point in the film, some of the actors didn’t really sell the change as convincingly as others and it really stood out in places, and was a bit of an annoyance for me.

One aspect of “The Mist” that surprised me the most was the excellent CGI work done to create the monsters. Now, I wasn’t surprised that the CGI was so well-crafted, I mean in this day of modern cinema there’s just no excuse for bad CGI, but for me I didn’t expect there to be all that much, if any, CGI to be used in the film. I wasn’t aware that there were going to be monsters hidden in the mist, so that was a very welcome and enjoyable surprise. And kudos to the special effects department for creating such creepy, even somewhat disturbing, versions of our various insects and bugs; such as, spiders, flies, mosquitoes, and so on. I thought by including monsters with the mysterious mist (which may have been in the novella, I wouldn’t know because I haven’t read it) was a good way to separate this movie from “The Fog” which was a movie about another small town being plagued by a mysterious fog that brought death and despair to the townspeople.

“The Mist” was an entertaining drama/monster film for the first 90 minutes, but the last thirty minutes of the movie really brought the entire experience down for me. It’s sad to have a movie that is so well-written, directed, and acted, be felled by somewhat unbelievable, and in some cases disturbing, plot twists to the point that I was glad when the credits rolled so I could soon begin erasing this movie from my mind. Some people will probably still enjoy “The Mist” regardless of the problems that plague the latter portion of the movie, but for me I’d rather watch the much better Stephen King adaptations from Frank Darabont, and put this one out of sight, and out of mind.

“The Mist” is rated R for violence and language.

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The Child is Father to the Man…..Gerard Manley Hopkins (1918)

“The child is father to the man.”
How can he be? The words are wild.
Suck any sense from that who can:
“The child is father to the man.”
No; what the poet did write ran,
“The man is father to the child.”
“The child is father to the man!”
How can he be? The words are wild!
One should not miss the play upon a Childe Herald aspect in both how this movie’s title is chosen and how its significance relates to primary instincts in common to all humanity. Otherwise the purpose for its careful construction are missed and much of the intended import, sadly dismissed. For much about it is epic.

Strong points much required considered in order to reflect upon what otherwise might seem unreal to viewers but what is the proud truth in all our hearts. With this allowance, one scene in particular is not quite deemed so imaginary nor surreal, but emphatic to this “proud truth”.

And the dramatic core, to escape from malign clutches the one remaining hope to prolong the species, becomes a theater upon which all mankind’s behinds may one day sit.

Adapted from the novel of the same name by P. D. James and directed by Alfonso Cuaron, also involved in its screenplay writing. Other writers are, Timothy J. Sexton, David Arata, Mark Fergus, and Hawk Otsby. The casting is adept and the lead, Clive Owen, grants this up and coming English superstar an excellent opportunity to display his range. Opposite is the alluring Maria McErlane in supporting role with, Michael Cane as Jasper. A notable performance is given by Joy Richardson as, Joy, in a role central to both story line and action core.

This futurist movie is set in the year 2027. We learn this society’s vapid sterility through the eyes of Theo Faro (Clive Owen,) a society in which we can already see a prototype forming. Reacting to the newsfest over the recent death of Baby Diego (Juan Gabriel Yacuzzi) Faro’s musings, promoted as well by a near miss terrorist bombing, give us a clear frame of reference for what is to come. Baby Diego’s death is a well selected front door for the story to begin since he was the youngest person on earth and all of eighteen years old. But this kind of keen professional touch is to be noted throughout the making of this chilling movie. For with it is better obtained the clarity to realize a viewer is looking into a near inevitable future.

What this portrayal represents, however, is not horror for the sake of horror, but for the sake of what Joy (Joy Richardson) represents. This reviewer supposes, naming this role Hope, might just have been too obvious to the movie maker’s taste…not to his though. Added to this sense of horror is the clinical way in which government determinants on derelicts are made, how they are then separated and catalogued, with the least desirable exterminated on the spot.

All of which we see on this excursion through possibility approaching probability as mounting factors both in the present and in this 2027 scenario proliferate. To the point in the film where indifference is the common reaction…even to those deemed misfits. But something is to awaken them out of this lethargy. Something for which people willingly lay down lives…beginning with their own. Can a movie demonstrate such a thing as reality?

See it and decide. Clearly a five star rating on theme alone.

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Looking back at the filmography of director Don Coscarelli and the minor horror gems that he has put to the screen, Phantasm in particular, Incident On and Off A Mountain Road seems like a footnote to his greatness.

After an accident spirals her car out of control, Ellen (Bree Turner) meets a rather eerie bystander. This bystander, named Moonface (John DeSantis), is a psycho who plucks the eyes out of his victims and ties them to a cross, allowing moonlight to shine through the eye-sockets. What Moonface doesn’t know is that he is messing with the wrong woman. Ellen has been trained to kill by her ex-husband and uses her mad skills to take on Moonface in a final confrontation.

It is the villain and the sexy and well-acting lead that make the movie. Moonface could be an iconic serial killer in a full length feature, like Jason and Freddy, becoming an unwanted, unstoppable sequel spawning machine. However, like most short films, the material provided isn’t exactly cream of the crop and usually is mediocre at best. Incident On and Off A Mountain Road, which could’ve been simply titled Moonface, delivers exactly what is expected: a shrilling, atmospheric, and worthy time-waster.

Stunning visuals of dead corpses, nail-biting suspense, and a truly frightening villain render the spooky moments. Take The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, mix it with torture porn, and add a rebellious lead character who is capable of fighting back (think Jamie Lee Curtis in Halloween) and you have a somewhat pleasing entry in the Masters of Horror series.

But is all of this filler really necessary in a 51 minute feature? An awkward relationship between Ellen and her survivalist ex-husband Bruce lessens the fear factor and detaches the audience from the creepy atmosphere.

Writer and Director Don Coscarelli (Phantasm, Bubba Ho-Tep) bypasses the original wall-to-wall blood-fest cliché and goes for making a fright-fest with a pneumatic ring to it. It works in the sense that it is rental worthy and actually scary at some points.

Like most of the shorts from the Masters of Horror anthology, it contains too much piffle, too much of an unwanted subplot to be entirely alluring. I did enjoy it, as should many others; it’s visually startling and kindled with some minor jolts. But Incident On and Off A Mountain Road doesn’t quite have what it takes to fully claim its spot in memory. 2.5/5 stars

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Directed by: Glen Morgan.

 Starring: Katie Cassidy, Michelle Trachtenberg, Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Crystal Lowe, and Lacey Chabert.

The instant slasher flick classic is back with a vengeance. With more gore than you can shake a stick at, the campy atmosphere and tone will never bore you to pieces.

When a crazed spree killer (Billy Lenz is the name) escapes from the local mental facility, an oblivious group of sorority girls are busy “burying the hatchet” on Christmas day. Little do they know the afflicted murderer is returning to the house in which the sorority resides. As each girl meets an untimely and  death, the few survivors are left to huddle in fear and concern for the missing sisters.

There is something about this movie that is just awesome. It is one of those cheesy slasher flicks you can watch over and over and never get tired of it. The pace of the movie is extremely well done. There is hardly ever a dull moment. If the movie isn’t showing the killer finding some immensely disturbing method of slaughtering his innocent victims, it is flashing back to the killer’s shocking and melancholy childhood. Expect a fast and wild ride for almost a full hour and a half with Black Christmas.

Black Christmas, however corny you may think it is, does provide a somewhat decent twist. Is there one killer? Is there more than one killer? Could someone be pulling a whole-hearted attempt at giving these girls a heart attack? I spent the duration of the movie pointing out suspect characters. I became infatuated with Eve being the killer’s sister AND daughter Agnes (yes, you read that correctly) but was disappointed to find Eve being just another pawn in the killer’s game.

I enjoyed the over-the-top gore and was chilled to the bone with Billy’s childhood story. There are definitely flaws in this movie (jabbing a guard in the head with a half-eaten candy cane?), but they’re the kind of flaws that are silly and still enjoyable. Billy’s skin tone was an awful neon yellow because of a liver condition at birth. This skin color was extremely exaggerated and bothered me a bit. If you’re expecting provocative dialogue or a meaningful/life-changing movie, I would skip this one. This movie is for true gore horror fans who bask in the campy and cheesy aspects of all slasher films.

***4/5 stars***

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Sparse and disparate are the reviews I’ve read of this movie, prompting my return to its decade + old first showing in a self-edifying attempt to better justify it as a movie of depth and meaning. And that it is, so much so, that it is difficult for this reviewer not to succumb to what students in comparative literature call, an explicaion de text. However, that would defeat the purpose of a movie review, to attract a potential audience to see a movie the reviewer deems worthwhile.

Public Access is not only worthwhile it is representative of a very small category of horror films that touch upon the human condition with a clarity that even adds to the element of horror. The morality play of the past is brought to cinema with a vengeance when this is done well. In this respect Public Access triumphs and that is high acclaim for any low budget thriller/horror film.

Of course, to begin with, the script is excellent. Director, Bryan Singer collaborates with Christopher McQuarrie and Michael Feit Dougan to write it. Lighting and the selection of film (guessing Kodak’s Ektochrome) are other choices well enhancing this movie’s intended tone. Special effects are almost wholly the province of set design and camera work with the emphasis on the “psychological”, reflecting back on the quality of the script and directing.  Absolutely very gifted choices in utilizing limited resource.

Another asset to this film’s success is the casting and the quality of performance by supporting roles. The dark figure around which action core and story line are carried is Ron Marquette as Whiley Pritcher. His performance leaves the viewer wondering why Mr. Marquette has not been seen in more leading roles. Burt Williams gives a convincing performance in supporting role as the befuddled but articulate small town crank and Pritcher’s landlord, Bob Hodges. A less demanding but still well served role is that of Rachel, played by Dina Brooks. Brandon Boyce’s performance as the justifiably disturbed, Kevin Havey, is professional and, in the most intense of all roles, well sustained within margins below that of over-acting. A rare attribute it seems in low budget films.

Whiley Pritcher arrives in the small town of Brewster carrying his bags and on foot. The opening scene is marked by the town’s corporate intruder’s truck arriving as well. Significantly the film will end the same way, only with Pritcher leaving, making a masterful use again of limited resource to effect a most ominous framework around this macabre tale.

We are not assured at the end if Pritcher is a paid assassin and mind-bending promoter or if he is an almost demonic psychotic megalomaniac, just as if we cannot be ever convinced fully by even the most astute historian the same determinations about such men as Adolf Hitler. However, there are clues throughout to decline the penetrating viewer towards discovery. Masterfully laid. (This film is a real sleeper.)

This reviewer came away with an expression created in concert with my viewing, “I am in command, I will show the world what I am”. For such creatures as Pritcher are among us, even prominently so. Instead of asking, however, “What do you think is wrong with Brewster?”, they ask such questions as, “what will you do to save American lives?”

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The long awaited sequel to one of the best vampire movies of the 20th century was released straight to DVD just a few weeks ago and honestly the film shouldn’t have ever been made with only one character returning from the original Lost Boys. (Edgar Frog played by Cory Feldman)

The story is about two kids, brother and sister who move to Malibu, CA after their parents die and they run out of money to live in a shack off the main property of their aunt’s house. The older brother Chris gets invited to a party by an old surfing competitor after explaining to his younger sister that he’s not going she begs him and the two end up going where she becomes only a half vampire. In order to save the sister the brother enlists the help of Edgar Frog; Chris then has to become a half vampire in order to save his sister before she makes her first kill. The brother finally, helps save the sister and all is well with the world.

There are some many elements that are wrong with this film, first in the character development more than half of the characters are not developed completely. The role that the females play in this film are simple eye candy if they’re not exposing there chest then they’re sleeping with strangers. The friends of the head vampire are plan ridiculous as they spend more time dismantling one anyone then do anything useful. The main character was a mess, in the film they state that the kid is suppose to be one of the best suffers in the world yet there is never a true shot where we see the kid surfing. Another problem with the film was the movie the first film was presided for the music while in this film the music was simple annoying and the modern track of “Cry little Sister” made my ears bleed it was so bad.  Another problem was the first three minutes of the movie the audience first taste of dialogue is seven to ten curse words. The only good thing about the film was a small part by the legendary Tom Savini. (From Dusk Till Dawn)(Dawn of the Dead)(Grindhouse)

This movie was a waste of time and was much more bloody and gory than the original. (which I didn’t have a problem with)I’m not trying to compare it to the original because there is no comparison. 

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While it doesn’t quite do for mirrors what Jaws did for the water, Mirrors might have some effect on you the next time you use the bathroom.

A retired cop named Ben Carson (Kiefer Sutherland) discovers that mirrors are steadily killing people and gaining their souls. That’s pretty much it. Yep, it’s that simple. Nothing complicated, nothing to think about, just enjoy the time spent watching mirrors inflict physical and mental pain.

It’s a movie with a whole lot of unintentional laughter, a silly premise, and features Kiefer Sutherland walking around aimlessly sporting a flashlight most of the time. However, if your similar to the crowd I was with, you’ll jump, you’ll laugh, you’ll scream, and you’ll walk away more satisfied with it than most recent Asian horror remakes. I personally wasn’t scared, but it does have a few moments worthy of a look and the majority of the audience seemed frightened.

Kiefer Sutherland doesn’t do quite as well as I thought he would, but was still sufficiently engaging throughout. Director Alexandre Aja never tops High Tension, but creates a much more pleasant and entertaining film than The Hills Have Eyes and P2. If you enjoy Alexander Aja and are familiar with his work, you might be a little disappointed in the fact that it seems like he holds back on the gore with the exception of one jaw-dropping scene involving Amy Smart. This hideous scene is the moment everyone will be talking about.

The camera work was stylish, other than the sketchy end sequence involving a battle with the captured soul of a nun, and the majority of the time I enjoyed myself. Mirrors just might be the most entertaining Asian horror film I have seen, topping The Grudge and The Ring by a hefty margin. Never once does that familiar long, dark-haired Asian lady show up. I am sure everyone has had their fair share of her, who is used in just about every Asian horror movie.

Take your date to this one. A couple of flashy images, a few around-the-corner jumps, a sexy-looking Paula Patton, and a nifty twist ending won me over. But keep in mind, waiting for DVD would probably be the sufficient thing to do. 3/5 stars

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After completing a couple of shocking horror movies (Dog Soldiers, The Descent), director Neil Marshall decided to make what seems like an homage to some of the best apocalyptic cult thrillers of all time.

After a lethal virus known as The Reaper contaminates most of Britain, authorities discover survivors. These survivors prove that there is some hope of a cure. As further discussions suggest a mission to acquire the cure is necessary, Eden Sinclair (Rhona Mitra) appears to be the perfect soldier for the job. She is sent to find the survivors and bring back a cure to save mankind. However, the survivors have gone renegade and have become destructive anarchists bent on killing all those who seek the cure. The result is Doomsday, although a more appropriate title would have been Freaks of Anarchy.

Like John Carpenter (who is a cult phenomenon known for films like Halloween and Escape From New York), Neil Marshall is expanding his ability to entertain by switching genres from horror to fire-and-brimstone. Doomsday is a wild, gritty, and deliriously entertaining throwback to cult classics of the late ’70s and early ’80s. It successfully combines a Mad Max persona with Escape From New York imagery into something new and worthwhile.

Rousing fights scenes, aggressive camera work, and brutal violence, all from a director who isn’t afraid to drown his audience in blood — this is the type of movie that leaves you with a silly grin printed on your face. It might be trash, but it’s high quality trash and brings out the rough-and-tough, unchained ruffian at its core. If this doesn’t sound like your kind of movie, don’t see it — otherwise you will be wanting to skim through your Disney DVD collection to wash off the dirty feeling. Those who are interested will be cheering on the action with clenched fists.

It does contain some faulty narrative and the action in the beginning is rather mundane. But in a film that has weapons that automatically blow away wildlife (in this case a bunny), has hardcore car stunts, cannibalization, and a severed head that crashes square into the camera, one pretty much forgets all the blemishes. I had a blast with this film. If you’re in the mood for an ultra-violent and coarse tribute to cult classics you shouldn’t be disappointed.

I was throughly entertained, having taken the time to relish the subliminal jokes built in for those of us having a good time. Rhona Mitra’s character exhibits what turns men on. She’s hot, she’s tough, and she knows how to handle firearms and swords. Having said that, Rhona Mitra is reason enough to see it.

The DVD’s special features includes an unrated version of the film that claims to have extra, more explosive action not seen in theaters (it really doesn’t), ”Anatomy of Catastrophe: Civilization on the Brink”, “The Visual Effects of Doomsday”, the original theatrical trailer, and more. I found the unrated version to be no different from the rated version. Nevertheless, see it and enjoy it for what it is: hardcore, gritty entertainment. 4/5 stars

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Staring Ali Larter, Taye Diggs, Geffory Rush and Peter Gallagher, this movie runs an hour and thirty-three minutes long.  It is rated R for violence, language, and some nudity, but pretty much for the violence.

A remake of a classic entitled The House on Haunted Hill, this movie involves seven strangers drawn to a house for different reasons, a party for some, a million dollars for others, a sneaky homicidal plan for even others.  The house is actually an old insane asylum haunted by the evil doctor and his horrified patients.  The evil doctor performed several illegal and criminal acts on the patients until they revolted, setting fire to the hospital burning everyone alive.  Now those patients are looking for revenge and the doctor is looking for more people to preform his experiments on.  Modern day a party for a rich woman leads several strangers into the house where through a series of unfortunate incidents they become trapped and must find a way out.  The caretaker of the house wants out, he knows the evil that lives in the house and he knows if they don’t get out they will all die.  One by one things continue to happen, unexplained things, and one by one the hapless victims die.  Will they find a way out of the asylum, or will the doctor get to them first?

If you rent this or watch this expecting a real remake of the old movie with Vincent Price, you won’t find it.  The remake has very little to do with the original except the point that in the original the rich husband and wife hate each other and that the husband has plotted to kill his wife.  This version too has a husband and wife who despise each other are attempt to kill each other.  This movie however has actual ghosts, and they can be very scary.  Coming out at about the same time as The HauntingI expected this movie to deal with a house and not really care about the characters, however the caretaker (played by Chris Kattan) was played very well and you feel for this guy since he obviously knows what will happen if these characters stay in the house.  Kattan, who is known mostly for comedic characters, does scared very well.

My main problem with this movie is that they could have done so much more with the setting than they did, and the creepiness factor was so light.  Relying too much on the relationship between the husband and the wife to create suspense and leave the viewer guessing if maybe one of them is doing all of the crazy stuff backfired a little.  I wanted just a little more visually of the ghosts and the the “haunted” goings on in the asylum, or even maybe a few more snippets from the video inter-spliced into present day like it was still happening.  The fear factor could have been a lot higher if the scenery had been used more, and if there had been more happening supernaturally to the characters.

I recommend this movie because it was fun and set the same spirit of movie remakes like Thirteen Ghosts and The Haunting (although I liked this better than the haunting).  However if you want to see a remake exactly of the original House on Haunted Hill, then I can’t recommend this movie.

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