Actions Speak Louder Than Words

The Furious (Kenji Tanigaki, 2025/2026)

As an aficionado of onscreen violence, I am particularly drawn to action films that feature intense combat sequences and copious amounts of pain. Fortunately, acclaimed fight choreographer Kenji Tanigaki, who was involved in one of your host’s favourite action films in recent years - Twilight of the Warriors: Walled In (2024), has transitioned to film directing and has subsequently delivered an action-packed bruiser that’s a summer riot.

The Furious (2025/2026) follows Wang Wei (Xie Miao), a mute, Chinese handyman working “Somewhere in Southeast Asia” (the location is intentionally left vague), as he embarks on a mission to rescue his young daughter, Rainy (Yang Enyou), from child traffickers. He forms an alliance with Navin (Joe Taslim), who shares a similar motive in finding his missing journalist wife. The premise is straightforward and the plot is not particularly complex. The narrative’s simplicity justifies the pair’s decision to launch a series of devastating assaults on numerous machete-wielding adversaries in locations connected to the trafficking leader Paklung’s (Joey Iwanaga) operation.

Wei may lack the ability of speech, but martial arts skills do all the necessary talking in his quest to retrieve his daughter. Throughout his journey with Navin, the extent of the trafficking operation’s reach is revealed, including the corrupt police captain who remains indifferent as desperate children attempt to escape from a dilapidated apartment building known as The Snake Pit.

The fight scenes are choreographed with expert precision; drawing the eye deeper into the intensity of the battle. The impact of every punch, kick and weapon used is viscerally wince-inducing. Bones are shattered, blood is spilt, and in some cases, body parts are severed. This is back from the pub heaven for your humble host. Meteor Cheung’s cinematography is characterised by a fluid dynamic that mirrors the chaotic visual spectacle of the unrelenting action that occurs on screen.

Diminutive Miao’s strict kung fu discipline is contrasted with Taslim’s more erratic judo skills. When Wei mistakenly identifies Navin as a child trafficker, the pair briefly engage in a fight. A comedic moment occurs when Miao removes his jacket as he warms up to unleash pain. To Navin’s relief, he realises that Wei shares a similar objective and they subsequently team up. For fans of the game-changing martial arts classic The Raid (2011), Taslim has a rematch with the indomitable Yayan Ruhian. The latter plays a ruthless henchman to Paklung; who wields a deadly bow, upping the bloody gore quota considerably. However, Brian Le almost steals the film as the bald, dungaree-clad Ho, a strong and persistent antagonist who is more than a match for the combined skills of Wei and Navin. Ho is instrumental in the film’s unforgettable pièce de résistance; consisting of an epic 2v2v1 rumble.

The English dubbing may be an issue for some viewers. While it did not detract from my enjoyment of the film, it was sufficiently noticeable to warrant mentioning it for this review. Apparently, there is a Mandarin language version of the film; one that includes some different scenes. This is enough to interest me in determining which might be the better cut of the film in the foreseeable future. Although, given The Furious is a martial arts film of a very high calibre, it's a win for action film fans, regardless of which version they watch.

The Furious is an excellent martial arts film. Blending the premise of Taken with the intense action of The Raid, and if that justifies it with the label of dadsploitation movie by some, then so be it. Hail to 2026's big daddy of action flicks!

Picks of 2016

2016 was a year for the underdog, a sentiment reflected in several films I enjoyed. Korean horror, low budget thrillfests and problematic action films were my personal highlights in a period dominated by endless comic book movies, unwanted remakes and shameless sequels. No change from any other year then.

13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi (Michael Bay)    

The Autopsy of Jane Doe (André Øvredal)

The Belko Experiment (Greg McLean)

Don't Breathe (Fede Álvarez) 

The Girl with All the Gifts (Colm McCarthy) 

Hotel Coolgardie (Pete Gleeson)

Hush (Mike Flanagan)

London Has Fallen (Babak Najafi) 

The Neon Demon (Nicolas Winding Refn)

The Nice Guys (Shane Black) 

The Shallows (Jaume Collet-Serra)

Terrifier (Damien Leone) 

Train to Busan (Yeon Sang-ho)

The Wailing (Na Hong-jin)

I remember being mostly positive about Rogue One: A Star Wars Story, but I've not cared for anything Star Wars related after the deluge of awful films and TV shows ever since. 

Freaky Nikki

Obsession (Curry Barker, 2025/2026)

The Hollywood film industry is experiencing a decline in relevance, a trend that has become more pronounced this summer. Film production has become a large-scale corporate endeavour where hundreds of millions of dollars are invested in formulaic and rehashed blockbusters rather than creative properties with a more modest budget. Expectations for grossly expensive tentpole films  are often deemed as commercial failures whenever they fail to surpass the billion-dollar box office threshold. This has become an unrealistic expectation for an entertainment industry struggling to maintain the interests of the public. Hence, Blumhouse Productions, a film company with a history in low-budget horror, will always survive Hollywood’s downhill decline, like a cockroach after the nuclear holocaust. All it takes is one of its films to make it big to keep funding a multitude of other potential winners. Its latest co-production, is a monumental success story. At the time of writing, it has earned over 400 times its budget at the box office, and is one of the most profitable films ever made.

Curry Barker’s Obsession (2025/2026) is a variation of W.W. Jacobs’s 1902 horror tale The Monkey’s Paw. It applies the concept to a twisted love story. Barker’s slick writing and direction, along with strong performances from its unknown cast (notably, Inde Navarrette in her breakout role) make Obsession one of the year’s most significant film releases. Notably Barker was a 26-year-old YouTube comedy film maker and Navarette a younger Twitch streamer when they made the film. This demonstrates non-traditional paths to success in the film industry for Gen Z.

Baron ‘Bear’ Bailey (Michael Johnson), a shy and amiable individual, has romantic feelings for his friend and colleague Nikki Freeman (Navarrette). However, he is too timid to express his true feelings for her, which causes considerable frustration for their two fellow friends Ian (Cooper Tomlinson) and Sarah (Megan Lawless), who also work at the music store with them. The film emphasises the extent of Bear’s shyness with a painful rehearsal of his feelings at the very start of the film. Adding to the situation is the accidental death of Bear’s cat Sandy, on the very day he planned to confess his true love for Nikki.

At a new age crystal shop, Bear purchases a One Wish Willow toy as a last-minute substitute for the tiger’s eye pendant Nikki had recently lost. After the group departs from a pub quiz, Bear takes Nikki home. His nervousness in revealing his love for her results in an awkward sequence during which he even calls her “Freaky Nikki”, a nickname she despises. Nikki confronts Bear with the opportunity he wanted and asks whether he fancies her. Like a coward, he tells her that he sees her only as a good friend. With the opportunity lost and Nikki in her home, Bear holds the One Wish Willow and frustratingly wishes for Nikki Freeman to love him "more than anyone in the fucking world". Within an instant, Nikki returns to Bear’s car and behaves strangely; she even requests to spend the night at his home.

Bear’s wish has tragic consequences for all four featured characters. The most evident is Nikki’s total character transformation. The moments where Nikki eerily converses in the dark, along with her physical movements are intensely creepy. Navarrette’s performance is outstanding and should make her a star. The talented young actress conveys a range of emotions that effectively emphasises Nikki’s loss of autonomy; as if she is possessed. This may be the case as the real Nikki briefly resurfaces while her possessor is sleeping.

Nikki: Kill me, please!

Bear: What?

 
Nikki: She's sleeping. It's me.

Bear: You are you, Nikki.

 
Nikki: Ssh! Please, don't wake her up. Just... kill me!

 
Bear: What would be so bad? What's so bad about being with me?

 
Nikki: I've never been with you, Bear... Just kill me, please! Please, please, please, please!

This scene reveals that beneath his affable exterior, Bear is the film’s real antagonist. His primary concern is being in a relationship with Nikki; regardless of her own personal welfare, or the abnormal affect of her  actions and behaviour brought about her compete devotion to him. Therefore, the film demonstrates that his feelings for her are based on an idealistic vision of Nikki rather than actual Nikki. This explains why the cowardly abuser is willing to continue the façade of a loving relationship with Nikki while she serves Sandy the cat in Bear’s packed lunch; duct tapes his front door to make him stay home with her; and mutilates herself during a game of jenga. Bear’s cowardice is a constant throughout the course of the film.

Despite the familiar premise, Barker has crafted a film blessed that's an addictive viewing experience with morally ambiguous characters. They are more complex than the typical protagonists found in mainstream horror films. Bear may be a cowardly scumbag, but his initial plight makes him appear sympathetic. Similarly, Nikki is portrayed as a seemingly innocent individual. However, she’s later revealed to have been manipulative to Bear, prior to his wish. That doesn't excuse the hell of what she's put through, however. These character layers makes them far more three dimensional, in my opinion.

Obsession has resonated with a broad audience of filmgoers; both young and old. This is likely due to its ability to transform a narrative about love and obsession into a terrifying horror story. A concept that many might relate to. Consequently, Obsession is comparable to an old fable whose moral message is still relevant centuries on. A remarkable achievement from such a young cast and crew.

Loved it to death.

Viewings: June 2026

Chances are The Plumber might have been a dreary sex comedy starring Robin Askwith if it was made in Great Britain. Thankfully, Peter Weir's film is an entertaining blend of absurdist comedy and psychological thriller from Australia. I knew it was going to be good once I saw this clip online. 

Blogger is still "buggered", like Jill's pipes. 

Film:

The Laurel-Hardy Murder Case (James Parrott, 1930) ^ ♲

Oliver the Eighth (Lloyd French, 1934) ^ ♲

The Red Menace (R. G. Springsteen, 1949)

Spaceways (Terence Fisher, 1953)

Ashes and Diamonds (Andrzej Wajda, 1958) 

The Reptile (John Gilling, 1966) ♲

Danger: Diabolik (Mario Bava, 1968) ♲

The Plumber (Peter Weir, 1979) 

Man Bites Dog (Rémy Belvaux, André Bonzel & Benoît Poelvoorde, 1990) ♲

Triangle (Christopher Smith, 2009) ♲ 

Citizen Vigilante (Uwe Boll, 2026)

Greenland 2: Migration (Ric Roman Waugh, 2026)

Project Hail Mary (Phil Lord & Chrisopher Miller, 2026)

 

Television:

 Moviedrome: Welcome to the Cult (Nic Wassell, 2025)

FIFA World Cup 2026

Spider-Noir - Season 1, Episodes 1-3 (Various, 2026) 

 

♲ Rewatch

^ Short  

 

Dada Debaser Notes:

• Ashes and Diamonds is considered one of the best films ever according to film making luminaries Francis Ford Coppola and Martin Scorsese. I wish it clicked for me like it did for them. Great cinematography, though. I reckon Brian De Palma might have borrowed the fireworks scene from the film and used it in Blow Out.
• The Red Menace is a far too dull to be the Red Scare equivalent of Reefer Madness. Yvonne Kraus AKA Greta Blok would have been a successful Twitch streamer, if she was around today, however.
• The first Greenland was an unexpectedly decent disaster flick; its sequel, however, is a lacklustre effort. Greater plot holes than the ridiculous giant crater in France that happens to be an oasis of life.
• Citizen Vigilante is absolutley awful and the worst 2026 film thus far.
• The more I think about it, the more I realise that Project Hail Mary is essentially Interstellar with MCU quips. I might have overrated it on Letterboxd.

Last month, it was Hammer's Dracula (1958) announcement; this month, it's Ken Russell's The Devils getting the uncut treatment:

The Devils | Teaser

Ken Russell | 1971

Water Torture

The Plumber (Peter Weir, 1979)

Given the critical acclaim of Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975) and The Last Wave (1977), it is surprising to learn that Peter Weir, the leading figure of the Australian New Wave, would still have to resort to writing and directing a TV movie to make some cash. Consequently, his fourth feature would eventually be granted a theatrical distribution in the international market.

The Plumber (1979) is a 77-minute feature film that very much resembles a teleplay thanks to primarily being set in a single location. It centres on class conflict and male toxicity, and showcases the hypocrisies of its two main characters. Above all, the film serves as a spiritual forerunner to The Cable Guy (1996).

Jill Cowper (Judy Morris) is a postgraduate anthropologist residing on the university campus with her scientist husband Brian (Robert Coleby). She spends her days at home working on her Master’s thesis while Brian teaches and conducts nutritional research. He is determined to gain the attention of the World Health Organisation for his theory of Kuru, a fatal neurodegenerative disorder caused by cannibalism, still being present among the tribes of Papua New Guinea. His obsession with this discovery occasionally leaves Jill feeling neglected and alone. An expensive watch for Jill, does little to compensate for her being home alone for the majority of the day.

Max (Ivar Kants) unexpectedly barges his way into Jill’s life as the university's plumber. However, his  invasive behaviour is a red flag; suggesting he could be a shady or dangerous individual. Jill finds herself feeling increasingly uneasy and threatened in her own home by the disruptive and overly friendly plumber. The annoying tradesman exhibits a complete lack of respect for her personal privacy. Max’s bizarre behaviour is evident from the outset as she suspects he may have taken a shower instead of doing any work. Hardly professional.

Max is quite vocal about his dislike for the social and intellectual higher-ups. He sees Jill as one of the elitists perched above the ivory tower of academia and class privilege. Thus, she is the recipient of his subtle, irritating comments and disapproving looks. On the other hand, Jill’s quiet exterior hides a woman who despises Max for his complete lack of sophistication; which is rather ironic, given her studies on primitive tribes.

The scenes between the two characters are remarkably awkward and sinister at times. Weir lets various details linger longer than necessary; achieving an uncomfortable atmosphere throughout the course of the film which feels intentionally exaggerated. Thus, The Plumber alternates between absurd comedy and psychological thriller territory. It’s bolstered by a choice selection of library tracks from the KPM vaults; notably the eerie Sea of Tranquility by Edgar Vetter and W. Merrick Farran, which really fits the bizarre tone of the film.

Weir’s inspiration for writing Max originated from a cab driver he met who resembled a long-haired John Lennon. It was during the Vietnam War, and the director was shocked to discover that his driver held abhorrent opinions on the conflict. The apparent contradiction of a peace-loving crusty of the flower power generation, revealed him to be an unapologetic fascist in a deceptive guise. This was how the plumber/wannabe folk-singer Max came to be. He wears a "Save the whale!" badge, but does he really mean it, or is it performative?

Additionally, the blue sticker on Max’s leather jacket that reads, “Liberal = Less Tax”, was a slogan by Australia’s conservative party, ironically known as The Liberal Party. Further contradictions are evident in Max’s rant to Jill when revealing he was once a burglar:

“Anyway, I only ever took from the rich. Bludgers living off the workers. Sucking the life blood of the country. Vampires. I’d tread on them if I could. Squash ‘em like snails. Wouldn’t give it another thought. That’s the way we saw it in Melbourne. We had principles. The crim scene in Adelaide’s just the opposite. Real capitalist.” — Max

Evidently, Max still acts like a burglar by entering Jill’s home via the hole in the bathroom ceiling when she tries avoiding him.

The most distressing aspect of Jill’s situation is the isolation she faces. Her concerns are not taken seriously by the supporting cast. Her friend Meg (Candy Raymond) appears to regard Max as a typical individual, while Brian is preoccupied with his work to notice anything. The gaslighting further exacerbates Jill’s mental health. 

Brian’s subplot concludes with a group of colleagues from the World Health Organisation being invited to the couple’s apartment for dinner. The menu features Jill’s speciality curry, which on this occasion, she’s accidentally made excessively hot. Keep in mind, their bathroom resembles an obstacle course, with scaffolding everywhere, and you have the makings for a classic comedy skit.

Although The Plumber may appear modest and limited in scope compared to Weir’s other films, it is an exceptionally entertaining and fascinating study of the classes. It achieves this in a relatively short runtime. That makes this a beaut, I reckon.

Currently, The Plumber is available to stream on both BFI Player and the Criterion Channel. It's also available as a bonus feature on Peter Weir's The Car That Ate Paris (1974), which was released recently on 4K UHD. Alternatively, there are old DVD copies about. 

Ben at Work

Man Bites Dog (Rémy Belvaux, André Bonzel & Benoît Poelvoorde, 1992)

From the country that has culturally enriched us with Jean-Claude Van Damme, the saxophone and mayonnaise on chips, Belgium’s dark comedy Man Bites Dog remains a significant work that has left a lasting impression upon the found footage format and the mockumentary film.

Originally called C’est arrivé près de chez vous (It Happened Near Your Home), Man Bites Dog is a disturbingly comedic treatment of a small film crew capturing a fly-on-the-wall documentary on serial killer Benoît Poelvoorde; better known as Ben. The film shines a satirical spotlight on Ben’s world; along with his heinous influence upon his documentarian entourage. As the film draws closer to Ben, the distinction between the subject matter and his observers becomes increasingly blurred. The film crew become complicit in the crimes; while Ben becomes even more involved in the documentary, by becoming its producer.

While chronicling Ben's crimes, the film also depicts the more tender side to him; showcasing his relationships with family and friends. Ben proves to be a charismatic individual with a penchant for the fine arts, philosophy and boxing. Like all murderous psychopaths, Ben feigns empathy, sympathy and respect for most people. In the film, it's used for comedic effect. While lamenting over his latest victim, he confesses to burying two Arabs nearby; facing Mecca.

Shot in 16mm black and white, Man Bites Dog mixes cinéma vérité with the snuff film. The film’s gritty and raw look compliments its theme perfectly. Plus, many of the actors use their real names, which adds to the film’s sense of realism. Scenes with Ben’s family are his actual family; unaware of the type of film they are starring in.

Following the murder of a female passenger on a train at the beginning, the film shifts to Ben preparing to dispose of a corpse into a canal. Ben’s candidness towards Rémy Belvaux’s film crew, where he shares his expertise in dead body disposal, establishes the film’s underlying tone and twisted sense of humour.

Benoît Poelvoorde: There’s a ballast ratio for corpses: Three times body weight
for an average adult like this victim. But for children and midgets, it's different. Kids are lighter. So, it's four times body weight. What?

Rémy Belvaux: Never had problems?                   

Benoît Poelvoorde: No. Midgets are heavier, so you double the weight. Midgets have denser bones, so you double the weight. For old people, multiply by five. Old bones are porous.

As well as murder being his living, Ben takes pride in the innovative methods he employs in extinguishing the very life of his victims. After being invited into an elderly woman’s apartment, he discovers a box of heart medication on her coffee table. He induces a heart attack by shouting in her ear. As she succumbs to shock, he derives satisfaction from not having to waste a bullet on “Granny Snuff”.

Ben places a greater priority on the elimination of the elderly population as they typically possess greater financial resources than younger individuals. But he doesn’t alway adhere to his code of murder. Ben commits a home invasion in a well-to-do suburb; killing a married couple and their young son. This was to prove to his accomplice film crew that he is capable of being amongst the most notorious serial killers in history.

The central theme of Man Bites Dog is the gradual complicity of a group of impoverished student filmmakers in killer Ben’s sickening crimes. Initially subtle, their involvement escalates from assisting with the disposal of a corpse, using their equipment to track a person, and ultimately, gang-raping a woman before mutilating her and her husband. This shocking turn of events turns this twisted comedy into a sobering depiction of evil. The film can be interpreted as a commentary on the media’s impact on society. It questions the point at which impartiality is abandoned and the extent to which the media is willing to compromise its principles given the circumstances. However, an archive interview with its directors suggests that Man Bites Dog is intended to be a meta-film on film making rather than media as a whole. The scene in which Ben and company encounter another film crew also following a killer is an obvious example, and down right hilarious. It is likely that this inspired a similar scene from Shaun of the Dead (2004).

Man Bites Dog is a remarkable mockumentary that bridges the gap between This Is Spinal Tap (1984) and The Blair Witch Project (1999); in terms of genres and technical execution. It stands out in the genre for its ability to elicit laughter while simultaneously evoking a sense of moral revulsion. This dual effect is a rare achievement, particularly for a film that appeals to a desensitised audience. Consequently, it is highly recommended for viewers who are not easily offended by its disturbing scenes.

Along with being available on a far too expensive Australian Blu-Ray, you can watch Man Bites Dog for free on YouTube.

Drome Support

I recently watched the BFI documentary on the BBC's Moviedrome series. For those unfamiliar with it, Moviedrome was a television programme running from 1988 to 2000 that presented an eclectic selection of cult films to a wider audience. While not every feature appealed to me, it did broaden my knowledge of film. This was largely due to Moviedrome’s original host Alex Cox’s candid and informal introductions offering unique perspectives on films I wouldn't have otherwise known about. Cox provided valuable insights which were equivalent to film school for someone like myself.

Two observations I made after viewing the documentary: Mark Cousins's try-hard persona will always make him a disappointing replacement for Alex Cox — I cannot fault him for presenting both versions of The Killers, alongside The Warriors and La Haine as a double bill, though; and, we really need Moviedrome returning to our screens instead of twenty-six years worth of unbearable BBC dramas and docs made for wine-sozzled Guardianistas.

Here are some films that haven’t been shown before; a mix of old and modern favourites, that really need to be given the Moviedrome treatment, if it ever did miraculously come back just for one season:

This Gun for Hire (Frank Tuttle, 1942)

Brute Force (Jules Dassin, 1947) 

Dementia (John Parker, 1955)

The Sadist (James Landis, 1963)

The Collector (William Wyler, 1965)

Army of Shadows (Jean-Pierre Melville, 1969) 

Mumsy, Nanny, Sonny & Girly (Freddie Francis, 1970)

Wake in Fright (Ted Kotcheff, 1971)

Suspiria (Dario Argento, 1977) 

The Beyond (Lucio Fulci, 1981) 

Miracle Mile (Steve De Jarnatt,1988)

Riki-Oh: The Story of Ricky (Lam Nai Choi, 1991)

Perfect Blue (Satoshi Kon, 1997) 

The Descent (Neil Marshall, 2005)

Love Exposure (Sion Sono, 2008) 

Triangle (Christopher Smith, 2009)

Under the Skin (Jonathan Glazer, 2013)

The House That Jack Built (Lars von Trier, 2018)

Dinner in America (Adam Rehmeier, 2020)

The Substance (Coralie Fargeat, 2024)

The perfect cherry on top would be if another notable director with an appreciation for cult genre movies such as Edgar Wright were to present them.

Viewings: May 2026

Not honestly sure what I would have thought of The Grapes of Death if I had discovered it in my youth, but I liked this poncey French hybrid of The Living Dead at the Manchester Morgue meets The Crazies. It also helped that Marie-Georges Pascal was a dead ringer of Melinda Clarke in it, too. Definitely my favourite find this month.

Adding it to the ever growing backlog of films I've failed to review (in time). Spent way too long on The Prisoner post.

 

Film:

From Hell It Came (Dan Milner, 1957)

The Snake Woman (Sidney J. Furie, 1961)

The House with Laughing Windows (Pupi Avati, 1976) ♲

The Grapes of Death (Jean Rollin, 1978) 

 The Warriors (Walter Hill, 1979) ♲

 Madness (Bruno Mattei, 1994)

Sorry to Bother You (Boots Riley, 2018)

Faces of Death (Daniel Goldhaber, 2026)

They Will Kill You (Kirill Sokolov, 2026)

 

Television:

The Prisoner (Various, 1967-1968) ♲

♲ Rewatch

 

Dada Debaser Notes:

• Amazed how the infamous video nasty Faces of Death (1978) has been resurrected into a modern era slasher with a Charlie XCX cameo. Very uneven film, with eye-rolling hackneyed social commentary and logic that made me lose more brain cells than that poor monkey in the original. But I did enjoy its dark humour and unexpected mean-spiritism. Gavin Brivik's soundtrack is very fitting until a horrendous pop song sampling Dr. Francis B. Gröss starts blasting during the end credits.
• There's nothing in Sorry to Bother You as remotely funny as Boots Riley going from 5 Million Ways to Kill a C.E.O. to sponging off Larry Ellison's nepobaby in getting it produced. I'll give his latest one a miss.
• Bruno Mattei's Madness is a Poundland Tenebrae.
• The Snake Woman comes across as a B-movie forerunner to Hammer's The Reptile (1966). Ridiculously short for a feature film, but even then, it's still something of a slog to get through. Not enough action, sadly. 

Speaking of Hammer, I'm hyped for the uncut version of Dracula (1958) finally getting released this year.

The Painter of Agony

The House with Laughing Windows (Pupi Avati, 1976)

Contrary to the belief of some giallo film experts, the genre’s golden era had long passed by the time Dario Argento released his seminal film Deep Red (1975). There was no revival of the giallo genre as his classic debut The Bird with the Crystal Plumage (1971) had achieved. Similarly, when the director returned to the gialli after several years with his masterpiece Tenebrae (1982), that also failed to reignite the genre as it had mostly been absorbed across the Atlantic with the slasher film. In your humble host’s opinion, the quality of these films produced between this period was a nadir for the giallo. Gone were the jet-set locations, the glamorous women and the stylish ‘70s fashions. 

These were succeeded by some of the genre’s most notorious and poorly made films. Examples include The Bloodsucker Leads the Dance (1975), The Sister of Ursula (1978) and the infamous Giallo in Venice (1979). They exemplified the sleaze and ineptitude that became the norm. However, there were notable exceptions. The House with the Laughing Windows (1976), directed by the unfortunately named Pupi Avati, is perhaps the greatest standout and one of the best gialli produced since its heyday.

Art restorer Stefano (Lino Capolicchio) is commissioned by Solmi (Bob Tonelli), the diminutive mayor of a provincial village, to repair and complete an unfinished church fresco. The artwork was commissioned by the long-serving parish priest Don Orsi (Eugene Walter) to depict the Martyrdom of St Sebastian. Buono Legnani (Tonino Corazzari), a revered and eccentric local artist would be the person appointed the task of painting the fresco. Unfortunately, the painter had mysteriously passed away before completing it. Mayor Solmi believes the completion and restoration of it will bring much-needed tourism to the area and help boost its economy. Upon seeing the fresco, Stefan becomes instantly obsessed with it and its creator described as "the painter of agony". He begins working immediately,

The village has endured significant hardship since World War II. Its lagoon remains polluted decades after the conflict. Don Orsi’s church was also severely affected. It was converted into a SS barracks during the war and subsequently used as a makeshift morgue. The trauma of war continues to have a profound impact on the community. The village appears to be frozen in time, with few motor vehicles and residents wearing vintage clothing. Above all, they are fearful of the past.

Upon checking into the local hotel, Stefano receives a threatening phone call instructing him to abandon his work on the fresco and leave the village. He dismisses the threat as a prank. He is enjoying the advances of the local schoolteacher, who also happens to be the village bike.  Stefano briefly meets Antonio Mazza (Giulio Pizzirani), an old friend who has also relocated to the village and is assisting with the lagoon’s clean-up. Mazza had recommended Stefano to Mayor Solmi to restore the church fresco. However, he now regrets bringing his friend to the village after learning more about Legnani’s depraved past and horrific inspirations in creating his paintings. With prying eyes and eavesdroppers, it is difficult for Mazza to disclose everything he can to his friend.

After being invited to restaurant owner Poppi’s (Andrea Matteuzzi) house, Stefano sees an entire room’s worth of Legnani’s paintings. This only makes the our protagonist even more fascinated by the insane artist’s life. While there, Mazza calls Stefano urging him to come and see him. He wants to tell Stefano everything. Outside Mazza’s apartment, Stefano witnesses his friend fall to his death. A silhouetted figure can be seen from Mazza’s room.

Stefano’s hotel concierge overhears the latest prank call to him and becomes alarmed. She fabricates a story about needing Stefano’s room for another guest. Fortunately, Don Orsi has arranged accommodation for the young man in a large villa owned by an elderly paraplegic woman who lives alone. It is rumoured she was made an invalid from a venereal disease. Don Orsi’s mouse-eating assistant Lidio (Pietro Brambilla) guides Stefano to the villa. Laura (Pina Borione), the lonely woman, is delighted to have another person in her home. In the attic of the villa, Stefano discovers an old tape recorder. The tape plays Legnani’s insane ramblings which are heard over the sepia-toned opening sequence of the film, where an unnamed man is hung by his arms and brutally stabbed multiple times. 

"The colours, my colours, flow in my veins. They are sweet, my colours, sweet as Autumn, hot as blood, pure as syphilis, and enter into the eyes, infecting all." — Buono Legnani.

Evidently, Stefano seems to have gotten over Mazza’s death (murder?) and seems unfazed from the disturbing tape recording relatively quickly, as he’s already making a late night booty call with the school teacher. To his surprise, the beautiful young brunette woman, who he briefly met on the ferry when he first arrived at the village, opens the front door. Francesca (Francesca Marciano) tells the randy art restorer that the school teacher he came to visit had been transferred, and that she is her replacement, Not sure which is more troubling about Francesca: her inviting a horny stranger into her home in the late hours, or her having a refrigerator filled with snails crawling about in it. She even asks Stefano if he knows how to cook them. The newcomers develop a romantic relationship. Out with the old; in with the new.

This is an appropriate point to conclude the plot of the film without delving into spoilers. While The House with Laughing Windows is half a century old, it’s still an overlooked film; and therefore, a new discovery for many. Its cult status has begun growing in recent years, however. Not only ought it be considered amongst the best gialli ever produced, but it merits the attention of serious cinephiles as an important film in '70s Italian cinema. Therefore, Don Orsi would concur, spoilers would indeed be a cardinal sin.

Pupi Avati’s thriller may adhere to some conventions of the giallo genre, but it also shares significant similarities with the folk-horror sub-genre; specifically Robin Hardy’s British horror classic The Wicker Man (1973). For instance, Capolicchio’s character Stefano falls into a similar spiralling trap as Woodward’s Sergeant Howie as a stranger in a strange land. Both films featuring an isolated community populated by eccentric individuals is another shared characteristic. There is also the daylight horror aspect to both; which are achieved rather masterfully.

The palpable sense of dread in The House with Laughing Windows is undoubtedly its greatest strength. This is achieved through Avati’s increasingly unnerving plot juxtaposed with our protagonists becoming increasingly frightened along the way. The atmosphere becomes electric. Amedeo Tommassi’s haunting piano score further enhances the fear factor; particularly during the third act where events become increasingly sinister. 

The term ‘slow-burn’ may have negative connotations when describing the pacing of films today, but The House with Laughing Windows justifiably earns this description as Avati’s atmosphere wouldn’t have been close to effective if it had breezed through all the chilling plot revelations and genuinely tense scenes for the Ritalin poppin' film fan.

Overall, The House with Laughing Windows has consistently been one of the giallo genre’s most unsung films. This may have been due to the absence of an English dub and accurately translated subtitles in the past. Thankfully, that’s no longer an issue today..

The House with Laughing Windows is now available in 4K UHD (and no longer another wish list item) in the US via Arrow Video and is also available in the same format via Shameless Films in the UK.

Highly recommended for anyone with an interest in giallo, folk-horror and macabre mystery. 

EDIT: Bizzarely, while editing the format of the text, my original review got deleted and blogger auto-saved. Muggins didn't have a back-up. Lesson learned: Never use Blogger as your main format to write anything! Had to rewrite everything I could remember again. 

Be Seeing You (Again)

Three types of people I do not trust: politicians, journalists and those who pretend to know all the answers to The Prisoner. The latter was a one-off series consisting of seventeen episodes that aired on ATV in the United Kingdom from 1967 to 1968. It followed the trend of spy shows at the time, particularly the popular series Danger Man (1960–1968). Both of which commissioned by the cigar-smoking TV impresario Lew Grade and featured actor Patrick McGoohan in the lead. McGoohan would also be the series's co-creator; as well as writer and director on several episodes. Where The Prisoner differed from its predecessor was in its deliberate subversion of the traditional formula. Instead, it embraced 1960s counterculture and postmodernist allegories.

The opening titles sequence sets up the series's premise perfectly. The titular character storming into his boss’s office and angrily handing over his letter of resignation (I love it when the tea cup leaps up from the saucer when McGoohan bangs his fist on the table with the sounds of a thunder clap), before being subsequently gassed and abducted from his home. Our hero awakens to find himself in a cell designed to resemble his actual apartment in an idyllic coastal village.

Despite his defiant protest of not being a number, McGoohan’s unnamed protagonist would be identified as Number Six by both his warders and fellow prisoners. Number Six would be subjected to dastardly scenarios designed to probe his mind and break his spirit in order to obtain vital information; namely the reason for his resignation. The ingenuity of these methods were worthy of being films themselves; ranging from the use of psychotropic drugs, elaborate role plays and mind-swapping; in fact the plot to A. B. and C. is strikingly similar to Christopher Nolan's 2010 espionage sci-fi thriller Inception; albeit, without the bloviated run time, gimmicky cityscape effects and Han Zimmer's BWAAH horns.

The prison without bars would also house a number of other individuals; presumably from a similar background to our hero. Number Six’s constant dilemma would be distinguishing between the inmates and the warders. What was abundantly clear was Rover, a white weather balloon that belted out a terrifying scream whenever appearing on screen, which served as the Village's guard dog. The bouncing spherical menace would retrieve escapees with their horrified faces imprinted on its latex surface; the stuff of nightmares for any child at the time. Who knew a balloon could be this scary?

Number Six's desperation to escape from the ever surveillant confines of the Village was halted by a constantly changing rota of actors (including Leo McKern Peter Wyngarde and Guy Dolman) playing Number Two; the main antagonist. The predominantly British cast in the series, indirectly suggested Number Six's captors were possibly his former employers. Considering The Prisoner was produced during the height of the Cold War, the series does however allude to both sides being indistinguishable. 

What is indisputable is how The Prisoner foresaw a dystopian world of mass surveillance and blatant abuse of our privacies. In the episode The Chimes of Big Ben, Number Two describes the Village as “an international community, a  perfect blueprint for world order. When the sides facing each other suddenly realise that they're looking into a mirror, they'll see that this is the pattern for the future.” Eerily prophetic. 

The rivalry between Number Six and the differing incarnations of Number Two was a key element of the series’s appeal. Each Number Two utilised a distinct method to extract information from his fellow "lifer", Number Six. In turn, Number Six would exploit any potential weaknesses he found in his enemies. In the episode Hammer Into Anvil, Patrick Cargill’s sadistic Number Two is driven to insanity by our hero after inciting a female prisoner to committing suicide.

Throughout the series, the recurring questions were: who was the eponymous prisoner before he became Number Six, and why did he resign? For the tuned-in audience, however, the identity of Number One was the biggest mystery of them all. By the time of Fallout, the final episode, the busy surrealism, head-scratching symbolism and absolute insanity would prove perplexing enough for it to be analysed and discussed for nigh on sixty years. Thus, apart from its overtly avant-garde 1960s visual aesthetics, much of The Prisoner’s enduring cult appeal stemmed from theorising interpretations of it. 

If Number Six represented the defiant individual, then the Village epitomised a collectivist world of conformity. Ironically, once Number Six’s right to be an individual is finally recognised by a kangaroo court in the climactic finale, a masked collective, representing various societal aspects, mockingly repeats his first word, "I!" And so, the mechanism of the collective hive mind continues on. Back in London, the sound of Number Six’s front door sounding like his cell in the Village invites the theory that both he and the viewer are both prisoners in the grand scheme of it all. Certainly food for thought, but frustrating for those expecting straightforward answers to recurring questions rather than symbolic allegories. 

When Fallout premiered, the viewers were so disappointed, they jammed up ATV's switchboards; eventually McGoohan was forced to go into hiding with his family. Time, however, has been much kinder to both the series and its star. The Prisoner has also been fortunate to be niche enough not to be dragged into a culture war battleground like other nerdcore properties; which is ironic, given many of the show's themes and subject matter are even more relevant today.

Considering McGoohan’s lifelong scrutinisation regarding The Prisoner, it is possible to categorise him as either a brilliant mind whose work was misunderstood by the "rotten cabbages", or as the perpetrator of one of our greatest media pranks, à la Orson Welles’ 1938 War of the Worlds radio broadcast and Panorama’s spaghetti tree hoax in 1957. Regardless, The Prisoner remains a compelling work that is worth revisiting for its sheer mind fuckery. It's also a lot of fun watching people getting accosted by a weather balloon, too.

Depending on where you are, you can watch The Prisoner for free on YouTube, along with Century 21 Films' superb feature length documentary about the series, The Making of the Prisoner: Don't Knock Yourself Out.