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King Klunk (1933)
Klunky.
Woody Woodpecker creator Walter Lantz was quick off the mark with this animated parody of King Kong, which came out in 1933, the very same year as the classic monster movie; but perhaps he should have taken a little more time, because in his rush he forgot to include any decent gags or memorable characters.
Giant amorous ape aside, the main character is Pooch, a generic 1930s animated animal (dog?) vaguely reminiscent of Betty Boop's pal Bimbo. Then again, he's a bit like Mickey Mouse. Or Felix the Cat. When his equally generic girlfriend is abducted by King Klunk, Pooch sets off in hot pursuit to rescue her.
Technically and stylistically, this early cartoon is fairly typical of the era, with repetitive use of looped frames to extend the action, random inanimate objects coming to life, and politically incorrect depictions of natives, but with humour that is as prehistoric as the titular ape's home it will probably be of little interest to anyone but animation historians or avid fans of King Kong who feel the need to watch anything remotely related to the film.
Sen to Chihiro no kamikakushi (2001)
I get the feeling that this review won't be very popular...
As a huge fan of both animation and Japanese cinema, I have long felt more than a little embarrassed by my ignorance of celebrated director Hayao Miyazaki. Having tried to rectify this situation somewhat by watching the highly acclaimed animé Spirited Away, I no longer feel so bad about neglecting his work for so long: I found the film hugely undeserving of the glowing praise heaped upon it and I imagine it'll probably be quite a while before I tackle another of Miyazaki's 'classics'.
Although Spirited Away is undeniably impressive visually, with stylish animation and imaginative design throughout, everything else about the film leaves A LOT to be desired, especially the trite story, in which a little girl, Chihiro, gets lost in a strange world and encounters a series of whimsical fantasy characters while trying to find her way home. It's The Wizard of Oz, but without the star quality of Garland, the amazing flying monkeys, catchy tunes, cute dog, and over-sexed dwarfs in garish outfits; it's Alice in Wonderland without the pungent whiff of opium; it's Labyrinth without the allure of a teenage Jennifer Connelly, the star power of Bowie, and the magic of Henson; it's Coraline, but
.errr
nowhere near as good (speaking of Neil Gaiman, it reminded a lot of Mirrormask, which also bored me to tears with its random, meandering narrative).
Bless the Child (2000)
Biblical bilge.
What the hell happened to Chuck Russell? He made the most entertaining of the Elm Street sequels, did a cracking job on the '88 remake of The Blob, and gave us the excellent The Mask (which in turn gave us Cameron Diaz)films that were pure unadulterated fun. But after churning out silly but entertaining Arnie actioner Eraser, his promising career seems to have slowly disappeared down the pan, a situation helped in no small part by this dire, end-of-the-millennium biblical horror. With Bless the Child, it seemed as though Chuck had forgotten everything important he had ever learnt about film-making.
Unlike his previous movies, Russell fails to inject any originality or charm into proceedings, and the result is a lifeless and heavy-handed horror with woeful CGI, a movie designed for undemanding mainstream audiences; in short, it is the epitome of bland 90s popcorn horror. The plot is a weak rip-off of The Omen and the central performances are terrible: Rufus Sewell hams it up as an occult leader who tries to turn a supernatural little girl into a tool for Satan; Kim Basinger is unconvincing as the child's concerned guardian; and Angela Bettis proves thoroughly annoying as the girl's junkie mother. Christina Ricci, who is also fairly high up the cast list, is wasted in a completely pointless minor role.
3.5 out of 10, generously rounded up to four for Ricci losing her head and some dude getting knitting needles in his eyes.
The Reaping (2007)
Blood, and frogs, and bugs, oh my!
I'm more inclined to believe what I read in The National Enquirer than in The Bible, and yet I am strangely drawn to biblical horrors, particularly enjoying the potentially cataclysmic nature of the stories, the fate of the whole of mankind often being at stake. While The Reaping is far from perfect, it's ten plagues not quite as devastating as I had hoped and director Stephen Hopkins' storytelling rather muddled at times, there is still plenty to enjoy about the film as a whole.
Oscar-winner Hilary Swank is The Reaping's strongest suit, the actress putting in an excellent central performance as Katherine, a one-time missionary turned miracle debunker called in to investigate strange occurrences in the rural bible-belt town of Haven; her strong turn definitely helps to make what might have easily have appeared completely absurd seem much more plausible (it also doesn't hurt that she's also rather sexy in thisI've never been a fan until now, but she rocks the sweaty vest look!). Meanwhile, a young AnnaSophia Robb displays plenty of star potential as the swamp girl who cops the blame for the strange events, and David Morrisey amuses as concerned Haven resident Doug (I'm not sure how authentic his American accent is, but it made me laugh).
Horror wise, this is all relatively tame stuff, with very little to turn the stomach (the most 'disturbing' image being that of a mouldy but slightly rubbery looking corpse), but there are some effective jump scares along the way and a few neat visual effects, with a sudden attack on a car by a bull and a swarm of deadly locusts being the film's most memorable moments. Throw in some spectacular pyrotechnics, and a not-entirely-unexpected 'twist' ending reminiscent of The Wicker Man, and what you have is a rather fun little time-waster, not the disaster of biblical proportions that many would have you believe.
The Final (2010)
A borderline pass.
I love a good revenge fantasy wherein the viewer can put themselves in the shoes of the downtrodden as they dish out justice to deserving jerks, but it's unlikely that many people will experience such satisfaction with this particular film, the high-school outcasts who plan to get even with their tormentors going way too far in their quest for retribution. Not only does the film fail as a satisfying revenge flick, but it is also barely passes as a torture-porn style horror, with not nearly enough eye-watering graphic gore to satisfy the genre's bloodthirsty fans.
Where the film works best is as a cautionary tale, showing exactly what can happen if one allows a desire for revenge to become all-consuming; the film makes it abundantly clear that such a path can only lead to suffering for ALL involved. Sadly, although the film might possibly work as a deterrent for potential vengeful nerds, I doubt that bullies will get the message that picking on the weak is wrong: most of them are far too stupid to grasp that concept.
Sinister (2012)
To the left, to the left.
Desperate for another bestseller, struggling true-crime author Ellison Oswalt (Ethan Hawke) moves his family into a new home, conveniently forgetting to mention that it was the site of a gruesome multiple murder. A search of the supposedly empty attic turns up a box of home movies; as Ellison views the old reels of film, he learns of other murders that are connected to the case he is investigating, and following some strange supernatural occurrences, realises that, by taking up residence in this house, he has not only endangered his own life but those of his family as well.
Sinister drags all manner of tried and tested horror movie tricks out of the bag in an attempt at seriously scaring its audience, but all to no avail, the shadowy house, creepy children, loud noises and freaky faces rarely having the desired effect thanks to their sheer predictability. Stick with it, though, and the film eventually gets under the skin, director Scott Derrickson very gradually building a sense of dread with an intriguing story that is clearly heading somewhere nasty; the real fun of Sinister is not in its cheap scare tactics, but in the carefully crafted foreboding atmosphere, and in trying to figure out the exact nature of the film's bizarre occurrences.
Sadly, the revelation of a child-eating demon named Bughool being responsible for the mysterious murders comes as a bit of a let down, and the final pay-off is nowhere near shocking as it should have been. After all that has gone before, the previous murders seen in detail, the film wimps out on showing us what should have been the most brutal of them all. Sinister would have been infinitely more disturbing had the ultimate killings been depicted in nauseatingly graphic detail (be honest, who doesn't enjoy a really gory axe murder or four?).
Oh well, that's mainstream horror for you, I suppose.
Stigmata (1999)
Catholic-bashing biblical horror.
Patricia Arquette plays Frankie Paige, a trendy, alternative young woman who lives on her own in a massive Pittsburgh loft apartment decorated with all manner of cool, designer furniture and ornaments. And she's a hairdresser in a beauty parlour/tattoo studio. If you can swallow that, then you should have no problem with the film's supernatural storyline, which sees Frankie displaying signs of the stigmata after becoming possessed by the spirit of a dead priest who is determined to reveal the secrets of a 5th gospel written by Jesus himself immediately before his crucifixion.
Stigmata is a reasonably entertaining piece of religious horror nonsense thanks to fine performances from its excellent lead cast, which also includes Gabriel Byrne as miracle debunking priest Father Andrew Kiernan, and Jonathan Pryce as a Vatican Cardinal trying to protect the Catholic church at all costs. What prevents the film from being a more successful affair is the distracting style of director Rupert Wainwright, who conducts proceedings as if he was making a music video for MTV. Yes, the visuals are aesthetically impressive, with stunning lighting and some flashy editing, but they don't suit the material and prove very distracting.
After much thrashing around by Arquette as she suffers the stigmata wounds amidst dripping water, flapping doves and shafts of blue light, and some weak Exorcist-style possession scenes, the film wraps things up nicely with the message that you don't need churches to worship God, for he is everywhere. Oh, and the notion that the Catholic church is a massively corrupt organisation heavily involved in all manner of conspiracies. Nothing new there then.
Nazis at the Center of the Earth (2012)
Velcome to Neuschwabenland.
BloodstormAsylum's knock-off of Nazis on the moon movie Iron Skywas originally called Nazis at the Centre of the Earth, a much trashier title far more befitting of a film that is pure cheeze from start to finish. Directed by Joseph J. Lawson, who, judging by the DVD extras, is simply happy to be directing anything, the film is cheap, incredibly dumb, and full of iffy CGI effects, but more importantly IT'S LOTS OF FUNmore fun, in fact, than the film it rips-off. This one doesn't bother with lame political satire, concentrating instead on delivering as much lunacy as possible, and it's all the more enjoyable for it.
Rather than leaving Earth for outer space, Bloodstorm sees the last vestiges of the Third Reich (including The Angel of Death himself, Jospeh Mengele) heading to Neuschwabenland, a subterranean Nazi base hidden deep beneath the Antarcti; here they attempt to regenerate their troops through the use of transplants from bodies, aided by research scientist Dr. Adrian Reistad (Jake Busey). The Nazi's transplant techniques are less than perfect, however, resulting in the recipients oozing pus from their surgical wounds as their bodies slowly reject the foreign tissue. Mengele's answer to this problem: to abduct Reistad's team of top biologists from their Antarctic station and force them to help him in his experiments.
With Busey in the film, and the lovely Dominique Swain as one of his unfortunate scientists, Bloodstorm was already worth every penny of the £1 I paid for it, but when I factor in the more exploitative nonsensegruesome face-ripping, brain removal, a thoroughly tasteless foetus removal via vacuum, the gratuitous gang-rape of a woman by several manky-faced Nazis, and the revival of Hitler as a massive Castle Wolfenstein-style cyborg with machine guns for arms and a laser in his chestthis has got to be one of the best value for money DVDs I have in my collection. Don't listen to the naysayersBloodstorm is gory goose-steppin' goodness from start to finish.
7.5 out of 10, rounded up to 8 for IMDb.
Romasanta (2004)
It was the wolf what done it.
Romasanta: The Werewolf Hunt is based on the true story of Manuel Blanco Romasanta, Spain's first documented serial killer, who claimed at his trial that he was not responsible for the numerous murders he committed since he was suffering from a curse that turned him into a wolf (always worth a go, I suppose).
The film takes place in 1851, in a rural Spanish community where there has been a spate of deadly attacks, presumably by wolves. Travelling salesman Manuel Romasanta (played by the very English Julian Sands, who makes zero attempt at an accent) arrives in the area to visit his girlfriend Maru Valdivielso, who shares her home with her rather lovely sister Bárbara (Elsa Pataky) and their young deaf niece Teresa (Luna McGill).
Seemingly concerned for their safety, Manuel offers to escort Maria and Teresa to Santander, but the girls never make it to their destination, their charming travelling companion attacking them in the forest, believing himself to be a lycanthropea man who can transform into a wolf. When Manuel returns to Bárbara, he seduces the unsuspecting woman, but is unable to hide the truth for very long
With its mid-19th century European setting, ambiguous werewolf plot, and stunning visuals, Romasanta reminded me a lot of Christophe Gans' The Brotherhood of the Wolf; but like that film, Romasanta suffers from a plodding and slightly confusing narrative, one that makes matters hard going, even despite a few genuinely twisted moments involving sticks in eyes and the removal of body fat, a fairly decent transformation scene, and the sight of Pataky in a tin bath having her breasts soaped up by Sands.
Man of Steel (2013)
Even the 3D sucks.
I loved Zack Snyder's debut movie, the thrilling 2004 remake of Dawn of the Dead; it must have been beginner's luck, because everything I have seen by the guy since has been utter garbage, with Man of Steel being no exception. Two and a half hours of superficial, overblown, CGI packed nonsense that fails spectacularly to make an emotional connection with the viewer in the first hour and thereafter settles for mindless action, the film is worse than I expectedand I never expected it to be good.
The special effects employed in 1978's Superman The Movie might have been crude in comparison to the spectacular mayhem presented here, but as an overall experience, the Christopher Reeve film wins hands down, director Richard Donner giving his audience humour, pathos and a genuine sense of awe, helped in no small part by the wonderful John Williams score; Snyder achieves only boredom, his huge explosions and random destruction rapidly becoming extremely tedious.
Tall, muscular and handsome, Henry Cavill makes for an impressive Supes (even in his dingy 21st century version of the iconic costume), Michael Shannon is suitably imposing as General Zod, and although Amy Adams is miscast as feisty reporter Lois Lane, I never complain when she is on-screen. But as hard as the cast might try, the magic is simply not there, David S. Goyer's plot-hole ridden script and Snyder's soul-less direction making this as bad as, if not worse than, Superman Returns (2006).
4.5 out of 10, generously rounded up to 5 for Ms. Adamswho is as lovely as alwaysand that bad-ass, dark-haired Kryptonian chick, both of whom helped prevent me from dozing off.
