Picks of 1974

Pick of the best films released in the year The Wombles should have been number one; the classic British sitcom Porridge debuted on our screens; and Col. Steve Austin became better, stronger, faster:

Almost Human AKA The Death Dealer (Umberto Lenzi)

Black Christmas (Bob Clark)

Blazing Saddles (Mel Brooks)

Captain Kronos: Vampire Hunter (Brian Clemens)

Carry On Dick (Gerald Thomas)

Chinatown (Roman Polanski) 

The Conversation (Francis Ford Coppola)

Dark Star (John Carpenter)

Death Wish (Michael Winner)

Foxy Brown (Jack Hill)

Frightmare (Pete Walker)

From Beyond the Grave (Kevin Connor)

The Godfather Part II (Francis Ford Coppola)

The Golden Voyage of Sinbad (Gordon Hessler)

House of Whipcord (Pete Walker)

The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires (Roy Ward Baker)

Let Sleeping Corpse Lie AKA The Living Dead at the Manchester Morgue (Jorge Grau)

The Man with the Golden Gun (Guy Hamilton)

The Mean Machine AKA The Longest Yard (Robert Aldrich)

The Night Porter (Liliana Cavani)

The Parallax View (Alan J. Pakula)

Spasmo (Umberto Lenzi)

The Street Fighter (Shigehiro Ozawa) 

The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (Joseph Sargent)

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Tobe Hooper)

Vampyres (José Ramón Larraz)

Young Frankenstein (Mel Brooks)

Not only was 1974 an impressive year for film, but some soundtracks were particularly just as on par with their respective films, in some cases being better. These were the crème de la crème:

David Shire - Main Theme (The Taking of Pelham One Two Three)

Willie Hutch - Give Me Some Of That Good Old Love

Roy Budd - Jazz It Up (MC/M4)

Coleridge-Taylor Perkinson - Flashbulbs

Bernard "Pretty" Purdie - Lialeh

The Impressions - Mister Keyes

Terrible Tom - Boss Ni**er

Isaac Hayes - Hung Up On My Baby

The Love Unlimited Orchestra - Theme From Together Brothers

Martha Reeves - Keep On Movin' On

Dennis Coffey And Luchi De Jesus ‎- Main Theme (Black Belt Jones)

Ennio Morricone - Bambole

Franco Micalizzi - Bargain With the Devil

Douglas Gamley - The Beast Must Die 

Toshiaki Tsushima - The Street Fighter

Lalo Schifrin - Ape Shuffle (Theme from Planet of the Apes)* 

* technically not from a specific 1974 film, but from a single which was released at the time. Sounds nothing like Jerry Goldsmith's original theme, but a great tune, regardless.

Boardwalk Emperor

Absolutely loathed Matt Reeves's The Batman (2022); an unnecessary and bloated reboot with a dreadfully miscast Robert Patterson as the titular caped crusader; pitted against Paul Dano's gimp looking Riddler and his army of incels. The only redeemable element about it was Colin Farrell's small part as the waddling master of foul play. A TV spin-off series on the Penguin, conjured preconceptions of typical Disney +/CW style slop and dissuaded my interest in the show. Glad to admit HBO's The Penguin (2024) has defied these notions, as the show is outstanding.

The decision to adapt one of Batman's arch villains into a Machiavellian mob drama, laden with shocking twists and revelations, rather than curse it with the stale millennial writing cringe of other comic book related serials, is ingeniously refreshing and one the show's greatest assets. The writing lands somewhere in between the rise-to-power bent of Scarface (1983) and the multi-layered character stylings of The Sopranos (1999-2007). The end result is a uniquely compelling offering which rises well above the rest of its ilk. Witnessing Oswald Cobb (shortened from Cobblepot) scheme his way through an ensemble of predicaments, is incredibly entertaining. It's also fascinating to learn about his strange relationship with his mother which leads to a deeply disturbing finale. My favourite side to Oswald is his mentoring of Victor Aguilar (Renzy Feliz), an orphaned street urchin taken under his wing, displaying an unseen side to the villain.

The Penguin's success can also be attributed to Colin Farrell's glorious performance as the duplicitous and grotesque villain. Not only is Farrell completely unrecognisable under all the make up and prosthetics, but he also sounds completely different; not one trace of his original accent and vocal range gives him away. Farrell isn't the only star of the show, however. Cristin Milioti is equally as great as Sofia Falcone, the unhinged black sheep of her crime family. Make no mistake: these are villains. None of that current day trend of humanising them and turning them into misunderstood anti-heroes. These are dangerous villains and remain that way.

Perhaps the most enjoyable bingewatch of a contemporary show I've had since Cobra Kai: Season One (2018) and Squid Game (2021). Completely hooked from the very first episode. Hopefully future seasons maintain the same level of high quality. Also praying its creators wisely steer away from including overexposed characters like Batman and the Joker etc, as the success of The Penguin is easily attributed to it organically working as a crime drama first and foremost, and its comic book source material is of lesser importance.

Megaflopolis

Huge admiration for anyone able to turn their dreams into reality. Not only did Francis Ford Coppola realise his life long passion project, Megalopolis, but he also invested vast sums of his own money into it after selling his winery.

One would think Megalopolis would be a perfect considering it's gestated for decades in Coppola's mind; along with having full creative control over it. Alas, the film is a horrendous failure in every conceivable way. The auteur ought to be checked for any signs of dementia. So spectacular in its floundering, that it's still a tediously exhausting and disconnected viewing experience even when treated as a hatewatch.

My brain officially checked out after around the twenty minute mark; the worst part was having to endure another two hours of this pretentious shite.

Megalopolis is not only a sure thing for worst film this year, but it's possibly the worst of the decade. Awful.

Toys Are Not for Children

Adults buying toys for their inner child rather than their actual child is newsworthy, according to the BBC.

It's a genuine surprise to discover an action figure of the iconic traffic warden from the nightmarish drama Threads (1984) being available. What possessed someone to produce a toy from such a depressingly disturbing film I'll never know, but I do appreciate the attention to detail; even the box art is from a vintage BBC Radio Times cover.

Sadly, it's beyond my price range, but I applaud seeing it along with all the other figures available, as they are completely on my wavelength; especially the British Horror themed products. Big fan of Peter Cushing's antiques shop owner from the classic Amicus horror anthology From Beyond the Grave (1974):

Favourite toys owned back in the day: Palitoy Star Wars X-Wing Fighter; CGL Galaxy Invader 1000; Ideal Toys Evel Knievel Super Jet Cycle; Idea Alligator Game; and Kenner Denys Fisher Toys Stretch Armstrong.

The Most Dangerous Gamin

Dementia (John Parker, 1953/1955)

Your host serendipitously discovered the wonders of John Parker's experimental thriller Dementia (1953/1955) accidentally confusing it with Francis Ford Coppola's Dementia 13 (1963). An unforgivable error to Coppola's stans, but a rewarding fluke for anyone with an appreciation for vintage psychotronic film, regardless. A bizarre, psychological thriller — free of any dialogue — peppered with horror elements, and shot like a stylish film noir. Visually, many parts of it reminded me of Orson Welles' Touch of Evil (1958).

After waking from a nightmare, The Gamin (Adrienne Barrett), a mentally disturbed woman and the film's heroine, wanders around skid row experiencing various surreal encounters with distinguishable nighthawks: The Evil One (Richard Barron), a sleazy pimp introduced multiple times; The Rich Man (Bruno VeSota), the Orson Welles looking sugar daddy; and The Law Enforcer (Ben Roseman), a cop on her trail, who later reappears as her father. These run-ins serve as vignettes showing off the obvious Luis Buñuel's levels of surrealism inherent in the film. A fascinating anomaly in cinema, as despite being such an outlier, its influence is profoundly evident in more celebrated films with a deeply psychological bent. Herk Harvey's Carnival of Souls (1962) and Roman Polanski's Repulsion (1965) share obvious DNA with this lesser seen horror noir.

Despite the absence of any dialogue, Dementia manages to incorporate sound and music in a creatively playful fashion. An eerie score, which would have perfectly complimented the popular science fiction flicks of its era, features a wailing female vocal courtesy of Marnie Nixon that is otherworldly. The result lends to the film's hauntingly, dreamlike atmosphere and surreal visuals. Another highlight in sound is how Shorty Rangers and his Giants' music uniquely syncs into the film. You hear the band's music playing off-screen, and then witness them playing it when The Gamin stumbles upon them in a jazzy night club. Like something the Zucker Brothers might have written for one of their spoof comedies.

The basic gist of the film was the brainchild of Parker's secretary, Adrienne Barrett, relaying an actual dream she had to the director. Not only did it spawn the film, it also managed to get Barrett, an untrained actress, into being cast in the lead role. Incidentally, despite Parker's name being credited as the film's director, according to numerous sources VeSota, alleges to have also co-directed the film (uncredited, however). Dementia was intended to be a short film, but additional scenes kept on being filmed during its production, with the finished version clocking in at just under an hour. Still a short film, regardless.

Symbolism plays heavily in Dementia. A traumatic event from our protagonist's past unfolds via a surreal graveyard scene (easily one of the major highlights from the film). In it, we our heroine's parents; her father feeling frisky, but the mother being unreceptive to his advances. The discarded cigar in an ashtray nearby, representing an adulterous incident and the subsequent ramifications of it, is hugely important to The Gamin's backstory. In a later scene, The Rich Man's stogie becomes a triggering catalyst to events in the present. This is all somewhat of a revelation for a film from the fifties. Granted, dark themes in films from this era were hardly new, just look at Charles Laughton's The Night of the Hunter (1955) for example, but they also had the advantage of smart and nuanced dialogue to get away with various details which might have been deemed inappropriate for its time.

Another fascinating element is William C. Thompson being the cinematographer for the film. The same individual who photographed numerous Edward D. Wood Jr. films also did this. You wouldn't know it, however, as the film looks astonishingly more artistically stylish compared to the B-movie fare he would make before and after (and professional, for that matter). Hence, the visual comparison to Welles' striking aforementioned noir. Amusingly, Dementia was the film Thompson worked on before The Violent Years (1956) — a personal favourite in the canon of juvenile delinquency films.

Although completed in 1953, Dementia languished in limbo for a couple of years, until Parker managed to secure an incredibly limited theatrical release. It would prove to be the one and only film he would make. However, it was later re-released with the alternative title Daughter of Horror (1957); with American TV celebrity, Ed McMahon narrating over it and addressing the lack of dialogue in the original. It's this version of the film where footage of it is playing during the cinema scene from Irvin Yeaworth and Russell Doughton's famous monster flick The Blob (1958); starring the legendary actor, Steve McQueen.

A curious oddity from the 1950s. Dementia's production history is just as strangely fascinating as the contents of the film. A weird anomaly which ought to be recognised by both film historians and genre heads as genuinely being ahead of its time. Although not quite on the same tier as the movies that it inspired, Dementia is unquestionably a remarkable effort given the talents involved, along with it being such a mind blowing discovery. It's an anachronistic film which should appeal to armchair shrinks and anyone interested in surrealist films or vintage B-movies.

The Discreet Hypocrisy of the Bourgeoisie

Nothing defines Champagne Socialist so exemplary than a successful multi-millionaire actor, surrounded by overpriced blu-ray discs, and moaning about capitalism. 

While in the Criterion closet, Andrew Garfield ought to have protested about inequality instead of filling his totes bag; like the range of Criterion UK releases being absolutely pitiful compared to its corporate big brother across the pond, and why the latest 40% off discount sale in HMV has as much choice as an Eastern Bloc supermarket.

Here is a selection of UK Criterion titles which ought to have been part of the sale:

Double Indemnity (Billy Wilder, 1944)

Repulsion (Roman Polanski, 1965)

Happiness (Todd Solondz, 1988)

Do the Right Thing (Spike Lee, 1989)

Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (1992)

Menace II Society (Allen Hughes, Albert Hughes, 1993)

The Irishman (Martin Scorsese, 2019)

Severin’s cellar will always outshine the Criterion closet. Always. All the lucky folk invited into the hallowed basement appear more enthusiastic there than Cate Blanchett and Todd Field being poncey and boring like their film Tár (2022). The cellar has director Sean Baker geek out on giallo films and gushing over Laura Gemser — that's way more relatable to me. Pick of the lot is seeing Gaspar Noe going Supermarket Sweep.

Viewings: October 2024

Romain reigns! David Moreau's zonked out, zombie-zoomer, one take MadS was undoubtedly the best discovery this month — both old and new. An anxiety ridden trip leading to the beginning of the end.

Fittingly, the lean and mean post-apocalyptic film Azrael became a very late highlight for me.

Film:

The Camp on Blood Island (Val Guest, 1958)*

One Shocking Moment (Ted V. Mikels, 1965)*

With These Hands (Don Chaffey, 1971)*

Lemora: A Child’s Tale of the Supernatural (Richard Blackburn, 1973)*

The Blues Brothers (John Landis, 1980)

Homework (James Beshears, 1982)*

The Outcasts (Robert Wynne-Simmons, 1982)*

One False Move (Carl Franklin, 1992)*

All Ladies Do It (Tinto Brass, 1992)*

Pulse (Kiyoshi Kurosawa, 2001)

The Mist (Frank Darabont, 2007)

Trick ‘r Treat (Michael Dougherty, 2007)

Starry Eyes (Dennis Widmyer, Kevin Kölsch, 2014)

Becky (Jonathan Milott, Cary Murnion, 2020)*

Spontaneous (Brian Duffield, 2020)*

Alien: Romulus (Fede Álvarez, 2024)*

Apartment 7A (Natalie Erika James, 2024)*

Azrael (E.L. Katz, 2024)*

The First Omen (Arkasha Stevenson, 2024)*

MadS (David Moreau, 2024)*

Never Let Go (Alexandre Aja, 2024)*

Strange Darling (J.T. Mollner, 2023/2024)*

Terrifier 3 (Damien Leone, 2024)*

Television:

The Avengers 'Dial a Deadly Number' (Sydney Newman, 1965)*

Return of the Saint - Various Episodes (Leslie Charteris, 1978-1979)*

Sapphire and Steel - Various Episodes (Peter J. Hammond, 1979-1982)*

Generation Z (Ben Wheatley, 2024)*

Mastermind - Episodes 7-10 (Bill Wright, 2024/25)*

 

*First time viewings.

Dada Debaser Notes:

• Did my own take on the annual 31 Days of Horror post. You’re welcome!
  
• What if Jack Hill made Valerie and Her Week of Wonders (1970)? That's Lemora... in a nutshell. Despite its acclaim by seventies horror connoisseurs, its heavy nonce vibes guarantee I'll never revisit it.
  
• One False Move is regarded as one of the "defining thrillers of the nineties". After its admittedly disturbing home invasion scene, it ploddingly devolves into a derivative cop movie than the underrated neo-noir it's made out to be. Largely forgettable, despite Bill Paxman being in it.
  
• I had high hopes for another lost gem being unearthed from the BFI Flipside imprint, like The Appointment (1982), but sadly The Outcasts was more a snug fairy tale than the folk horror it was promoted as. Decent, regardless.
  
• Channel 4's new zombie series Generation Z is a massive chore to binge through; it's largely boring and ridden with Guardianista brainrot. Typical Ben Wheatley shite. Alternatively, watch the superior and far more entertaining Dead Set (2008) instead.
  
• Art the Clown definitely earned his spot on the slasher Mount Rushmore, but can we not pretend Terrifier 3 didn't drag due to Sienna's PTSD taking up so much precious screen time?
• Once Strange Darling's predictable twist occurred, it all went significantly downhill for me. Kyle Gallner-core run ruined. Real shame, as I was absolutely loving it and praying for another curveball to maybe save the film.
  
• Keep hearing Star Wars' "modern audience" doesn't existent, but that's a factually wrong statement after witnessing it on a recent episode of Mastermind.

Other stuff I enjoyed: Arena of the Unwell's 31 film reviews celebrating Halloween and The Martorialist's 100 Best songs of the 2020s list.

The Silent Era

Azrael (E. L. Katz, 2024)

Post-apocalyptic films are a frequent setting in sci-fi and horror; practically a genre in itself with how common it's become, but there aren't that many out there with a Biblical theme, thus Azrael (2024) has made it onto my radar. E. L. Katz, who I first discovered from his debut, dark comedy Cheap Thrills (2013), has managed to deliver a lean little eighty-five minute film survival horror set after the Rapture. Sold!

Years after the prophetic event, all that's left in the world are the undesirables. Azrael centres around Samara Weaving — who has really grown into her own actress, rather than the once labelled as Lidl brand Margot Robbie — plays the titular character. Azrael is the Angel of Death in various religions; here, she's an escaped prisoner from a woodland community of religious psychopaths. They're all God-fearing mutes now, since the removal of their vocal cords. A cross-like scar is left on their throats.

The majority of Azrael is dialogue free. This might be a potential deal breaker for many, but considering the aphonic No One Will Save You (2023) was the best film last year (still no 4K release) for your host, that's not an issue at all. Thankfully, Azrael succeeds in a similar manner in a narrative told with physical actions and intriguing world-building.

Samara Weaving's performance is of someone completely put through the wringer. She’s able to tell a lot just with emotions in her facial expressions. Big blue eyes say a lot when contrasted with all the mud and blood she's covered in. There are occasional texts that appear on screen that serve as quasi-Biblical like gospel to the proceedings in the film. They're few and infrequent, but lend well to the overall dark and brutal tone of the film.

Considering all the good 'uns are all in Heaven, the remainder are left behind. With no room left in Hell, charred looking, flesh-eating zombies also walk the Earth. Much of the bloody horror content is attributed to the zombies ripping and eating the flesh of any poor souls they catch. There's also Weaving's gruesome takedowns of her captors whilst exacting bloody revenge on them.

As far as low budget, post-apocalyptic films go, Azrael looks surprisingly good, considering it's mostly set in remote woods with a bunch of old tents. There's a lot of ambiguity, but it doesn't feel like it's intentionally done in an annoyingly pretentious manner, but still requires work reading into the world Katz has created. It becomes rewarding, as it leads to an unforgettable climax which ends the film on a high note for me.

Definitely  a Marmite movie for many, but of all the religious themed horror films released this year, Azrael stands out considerably for its creativity, storytelling and above all, its entertainment factor.

"It Is Not a Rip-Off; It's a Homage!"

Liam Neeson's Peter Swan, the cinéaste director from Harry Callahan's fifth outing, The Dead Pool (1988), is still a relevant caricature of pretentious film makers churning out slop as art today. Knowledge of great film works and paying tribute to them is nothing new (just ask Brian De Palma and Quentin Tarantino!), but the homage is more often used today as a lazy Get-Out-of -Jail-Free card to absolve a film from any obvious flaws; the very reason why Ti West's MaXXXine (2024) left a bitter aftertaste for me after the dust had settled.

Arkasha Stevenson's The First Omen (2024), the completely unnecessary prequel to the iconic, seventies spawn of Satan horror, The Omen (1976), should not have been conceived. That's the studio's greed, for sure. However, its writing team play a part, too. The prequel is jarringly subversive, factually wrong and retroactively so shoved in, that it's nothing but a huge disservice to the original. Thanks to its ridiculous twist, it sets up the potential for further films. The prequel is a mess that intentionally strays away from its source material whilst piggybacking off the reputation of its superior predecessor. However, its seventies Italian horror vibe and Nell Tiger Free's solid lead performance are the few redeeming aspects in this parasitic film; saving it from being amongst the worst I've watched this year.

If leeching off its predecessor isn't enough, how about blatantly ripping-off Isabelle Adjani's unforgettable subway scene from Andrzej Żuławski's art-house horror Possession (1981)? Other than it being a shameless "homage", the worst part about The First Omen's tribute is how workmanlike it's presented in the film. Devoid of any real resonance when compared to Adjani's disturbingly shocking scene. It merely exists so cinephiles get the reference. A happy meal for kino heads.

The First Omen wasn't the only bun-in-the-coven themed film this year; Apartment 7A (2024), a prequel to Rosemary's Baby (1968), is even worse; thanks to it repeating the entire plot of the original, but with a couple of eye-rolling musical numbers and immersion breaking millennial writing. Alternatively, Immaculate (2024), the other nun themed horror from this year, might be the pick of the bunch, as, despite its flaws, it's practically the same plot as The First Omen sans the incongruous retrofitting ruining the film, and its homages being far subtler. Thus, it's a better film.

Big Giallo Taxi

Keith Emerson - Mater Tenebrarum

Inferno OST, 1980

Genuinely thought I was hearing Dario Argento's prog band mates, Goblin the first time I watched Inferno (1980); the second film in his Three Mothers trilogy. It turned out to be one third of Emerson, Lake & Palmer - Keith Emerson. Same ball park, innit?

If you heard Goblin's prior soundtracks, particularly Suspiria (1977) and Buio Omega (1979), it's an easy mistake to make, in my opinion. That isn't a slight on Keith Emerson's Inferno score, as they're excellent, but on account of them sounding so remarkably similar. The track Mater Tanebrarum might be the best example with how well Emerson's carries on from Goblin's sound at the time.

Keith Emerson - Taxi Ride Rome

Inferno OST, 1980

Taxi Ride Rome is easily the most insane theme and my personal fave off Inferno's soundtrack. Makes complete sense that it was written by a mad lad who would somersault with a grand piano as part of his routine while playing live in concert.

Incidentally, both Taxi Ride Rome and the Suspiria theme are both featured in phantasmagorically beautiful scenes involving a dreamlike taxi ride.

Ravagé à Trois

MadS (David Moreau, 2024)

After the euphoric buzz of Coralie Fageat's outstanding body-horror The Substance (2024) comes the inevitable comedown. It's been a downer for quality films the last couple of weeks. Nothing new has provided a decent high. Fortunately, Shudder's usual deluge of shite horror has been mickey finned with actual dope. French film maker, David Moreau, the bloke responsible for the utterly compelling home-invasion thriller Them (2006) AKA Ils, has achieved a blinding comeback with the electrifying zombie horror, MadS (2024) — you're guess is about as good as mine as to why it's spelt like that.

Playboy, rich kid Romain (Milton Riche), kickstarts his eighteenth birthday celebrations with snorting a few lines of a mystery party drug and driving around in his old man's vintage sports car, when suddenly, a completely distraught young woman, in bandages, bumps into his vehicle. Ruining Romain's high, the distressed passenger plays a recording device which clues him in on what's happened to her. Unwilling to be busted for being high as a kite, Romain hangs-up his call to the emergency services, once he's informed the police would also be notified. Deciding to take the mysterious passenger to the local hospital and dump her there, she repeatedly cuts herself in despair, bleeding all over the birthday boy, before slumping to her presumed death in the passenger's seat. In utter shock, Romain drives her to his house, instead. Score!

Now in a panic, Romain hops in the shower to wash all the blood off. He's disturbed by his father calling to enquire about his flight details. During this time, his mysterious passenger is no longer in the parked car, or anywhere in the garage. Romain presumes she has somehow left the premises. Without a moment to reflect on everything which has occurred, his girlfriend, Anais (Laury Pavy) arrives. They're both picked up by their loud and leary friends and taken to a near-by house party. We're introduced to Anais' best friend Julia (Lucille Guillaume) and the revelation that she's been secretly having an affair with Romain and might be pregnant. Domestic soap story shenanigans aside, the house party is primarily focused on Romain's deteriorating state, along with his eccentric behaviour.

MadS' ultimate selling point is the novelty of it being shot in one take. A phenomenal feat, as it's a logistical nightmare for any film. Miraculously, MadS succeeds in this endeavour as the viral outbreak spreading in real time lends to an utterly kinetic and adrenaline charged film; laced with unsettling anxiety. Cinematographer Philip Lozano deserves major credit for photographing such an aesthetically pleasing film. MadS looks striking, even with sickly, yellow street light illuminations. Astonishingly, the film avoids the typical disorientating and dizzying ordeal inherent in many POV + found footage films, allowing for the viewer to process events on-screen much easier. If anything, for its ilk, it looks grandiose and cinematic at times. Even more commendable, is the skilful switching of its three protagonists during this nihilistic night, which feels both natural and effortless.

Technically, MadS is a zombie film! Being all in real time, it's a slow process from the unfortunately infected victim to an undead, flesh-eating fiend. There are some unique differences, however:

• The infected exhibit extreme emotional swings and outbursts.
  
• They can hear maniacal laughing and voices in their heads.
  
• Infectees show exaggerated character traits of their former selves. For instance, Anais' sexual desires are amplified greater. "You smell good. Can I smell you?" she utters off-screen to Julia's neighbour before killing him.
  
• Light makes them superhuman. As evident during a memorable moped chase sequence and a poor man being thrown over a barrier and into a river.
  

Julia's encounter with Noa (Lewkowski Yovel), one of the armed, hazmat suited containment operatives, offers important information about these zombies: "This life no longer exists. Listen to me. How do you feel? Is your head spinning? Are you hearing voices? Are you drawn to the light? If you haven't ingested any of their blood, you're okay. Stay in the dark. Use as little light as possible. It makes them stronger."

Moreau's zombie film bears all its influences on-screen. The most obvious ones being The Crazies (1973) and 28 Days Later (2002). The latter being even more pronounced with a score that sounds blatantly similar to John Murphy's classic soundtrack. There is also the claustrophobic spontaneity of [REC] (2007) and various recognisable elements associated with Gaspar Noé's oeuvre. None of this makes MadS less than the sum of its parts, however. If anything, Moreau clearly understands why all those elements worked, and manages to weave them into his film, creating a unique and refreshing take on a tired and completely oversaturated subgenre.

Remarkably, MadS achieves so much in its lean run time. Watching it again the following night, is equally rewarding as various details and nuances, missed initially, further improve what was already a great film. MadS is both mesmerising and energetic. The tone might overall be nihilistic, but it's a thoroughly riveting viewing experience, regardless. A white-knuckle, roller coaster film which is highly recommended, as it's easily one of the great horror highlights this year. Should have released it in the cinema, ladS!

Letterboxd Blasphemies: Part 2

Welcome to another instalment of awful reviews on Letterboxd. I use the word "reviews" loosely, as they commonly read like the ramblings of first world slacktivists and narcissists.

I can't even post this Wall-E review as it's too long to screenshot, but it reeks of a freelance journo dredged up from the depths of Twitter/X (or whatever it's called nowadays) writing for The Guardian.

The thought of humanity suddenly being wiped out doesn't sound so bad once you're done doomscrolling on Letterboxd.

Picks of 1984

1984 was the year where the threat of a possible nuclear war first entered my consciousness. On the positive side, it did give us one of the most hilarious post-apocalyptic twist endings ever.

So many fine films from this particular year, but there were also a bunch I fell out of love with as well since then. Therefore, if I'm missing anything notable; I'm either sick of ever watching it again for the hundredth time, or simply haven't seen it.

The 8 Diagram Pole Fighter (Lau Kar-leung)

Amadeus (Miloš Forman)

Beverly Hills Cop (John Landis)

Body Double (Brian De Palma)

Children of the Corn (Fritz Kiersch)

The Company of Wolves (Neil Jordan)

Dreamscape (Joseph Ruben) 

Fear City (Abel Ferrara)

Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter (Joseph Zito)

Gremlins (Joe Dante)

The Last Starfighter (Nick Castle)

Murder-Rock: Dancing Death (Lucio Fulci)

A Nightmare of Elm Street (Wes Craven) 

Nineteen Eighty-Four (Michael Radford)

Razorback (Russell Mulcahy)

Red Dawn (John Milius)

Repo Man (Alex Cox)

This Is Spinal Tap (Rob Reiner)

Threads (Mick Jackson)

The Terminator (James Cameron) 

Trancers (Charles Band)

Wheels on Meals (Sammo Hung)

Tightrope (Richard Tuggle)

Can't sign off without mentioning a favourite monster design from this year. Gotta lotta love for C.H.U.Ds. Things a lefty wouldn't say today.

Ryder's on the Storm

The Hitcher (Robert Harmon, 1986)

The inability to unironically distinguish between the real world and fantastical liberties in film never gets old. On the other side of the coin, adopting the "Just switch your brain off!" mentality is often a means to ignoring your own honest conclusions and joining the hive mind. Robert Harmon's feature length debut - The Hitcher (1986), manages to steer away from both these approaches. Never does his film even attempt to answer its own implausibilities, but neither is it an insult to one's intelligence. This is crucially noteworthy. As a result, The Hitcher is an almost dreamlike film in an unsettlingly brutal world.

This extends further with The Hitcher not adhering fully to one genre label to categorise it. Flirting with elements that would label it as horror, western, action, and psychological thriller. Simply put: The Hitcher is not an easy film to box in conveniently.

Inspired by The Doors song Riders on the Storm, screenwriter Eric Red turned the lyrics pertaining to a serial killing hitch hiker into a smart and resourceful, supernatural like character as the film's monstrous antagonist. The attraction to this particular individual is he desires to be stopped; possibly the one shred of humanity left inside him. Therefore, he's tasked himself with appointing and grooming an unwitting apprentice; Jim Halsey (C. Thomas Howell), a naive young man on a long distance drive to California, who made the mistake of offering him a lift to relieve his boredom. "My mother told me never to do this!" says Jim to the rain-soaked reaper in a duster about to get in his car. He should have listened to his mother. 

The Hitcher contains a phenomenal character arc for its protagonist; evolving from a bland do-gooder, to being completely broken and suicidal, to going beyond the rules like his antagonist. By the final act of the film, the predator and his prey are inexplicably linked together and share an inexplicable psychic bond.

John Ryder, the film's almost supernatural like antagonist, is blessed with Rutger Hauer providing what's unquestionably a career defining performance. His cold stare is like death incarnate. A maniacal grin hinting at someone in a completely different plane from us all. Hauer's lines are equally chilling; particularly his exchange between the unlucky Jim early in the film:

Jim Halsey: What do you want?
*John starts laughing*
Jim Halsey: What's so funny?
John Ryder: That's what the other guy said.
Jim Halsey: What other guy?
John Ryder: That guy back there, the one we just passed. The guy who picked me up before you did.
Jim Halsey: That was him in there?
John Ryder: Sure it was. He couldn't have walked very far.
Jim Halsey: Why's that?
John Ryder: Because I cut off his legs... and his arms... and his head... and I'm going to do the same to you.

Ryder's words aren't hollow either. Granted, many of his sadistic kills are done off screen and implied; like the murdering of a poor family who unfortunately picked him up. One of many notably horrific scenes in the film, but never graphically shown. There for us to psychologically play out and fill in the gaps.

Diner waitress Nash (Jennifer Jason Leigh) is the only person Jim initially encounters who appears sympathetic to Jim's plight as a suspected mass murderer. She's obviously unsure whether he is being truthful, but she goes all in once a zealous law official intends to execute Jim whilst being arrested. An endeavour that eventually leads later on to the most memorable scene involving a heavy goods truck and its trailer.

Harmon's film is brutally nihilistic and downbeat in tone, sharing many obvious elements with China Lake (1983); his short film starring the ubiquitous Charles Napier as a sadistic patrol cop on vacation. The tremendous sense of despair and isolation are constantly enforced thanks to its arid setting and remote locations. Even when Jim and Nash find temporary respite in a motel room, Ryder is able to hide in the shadows like a stealth like ninja. Hence, one of the many reasons why the antagonist can be compared to some malevolent supernatural being.

As an avid believer in every creative artist possessing at least one good film, book or album in them, Robert Harmon confirms this theory as his debut feature is a bonafide eighties classic. Thus, there's no point moaning about his other films, largely consisting of a load of TV movies starring Tom Selleck, or helming one of Jean-Claude Van Damme's lesser efforts from the height of his stardom. He shot his load with producing what is arguably one of the best road films ever made. A phenomenal feat for a relative unknown at the time.

At a lean ninety-seven minutes, The Hitcher successfully manages to say heaps in its run time. Astonishingly (compared to today's film making), it conveys various complex nuances with its characters without delving into expository dumps. Clever transitions, such as the sounds of gunshots synced with Ryder tapping on Jim's car window, lead to another nightmare scenario for our protagonist. The icing on the cake is Mark Isham's hauntingly sparse synth score that compliments the film to great effect.

Won't resort to plugging the long awaited Second Sight release of The Hitcher, but I will say that I never realised how good John Seale's cinematography was until seeing it in 4K. A substantial contrast to how I remember it on VHS. It's amazing how striking the locations look, particularly with the desert hills in the background. What's also beneficial, are the intense close up shots, which give a Sergio Leone claustrophobic flair to the film. Perhaps the best shot might be the panning close up of Hauer getting up after being pushed out of Jim's car and freezes to a Dutch angle (no pun intended) of Hauer staring into the distance. Little surprise Seale eventually went on to photograph another classic set in the arid desert, the magnificent action film classic Mad Max: Fury Road (2015). 

Can you believe The Hitcher was hated by the critics? The overrated, even from beyond the grave, Roger Ebert was appalled and described it as being really about "gay sadomasochism", while his partner Gene Siskel was hilariously outraged by a graphic dismemberment that wasn't even in the film. Jokers like them might have contributed to the film being a commercial flop, but much like Brian De Palma's Scarface (1983), The Hitcher found a new lease of life on home video and became a cult classic. Its legacy would result in C. Thomas Howell returning again in The Hitcher II: I've Been Waiting (2003), a film I never even knew existed until only quite recently, while king of overblown and hyperstylised action Michael Bay would produce a 2007 remake with Sean Bean as the titular villain.

To conclude: The Hitcher is an undeniable classic film. One that showcases the late Rutger Hauer's acting talent and presence to great effect. Deliberately enigmatic, whilst not falling into the trappings of pretentiousness. A film that almost veers into the realm of supernatural, and if you're willing to accept this, it makes for a rewarding and highly entertaining slice of eighties cinema.