Thursday, July 31, 2025

Viewings: July 2025

The International Olympic Committee got the wrong anthem, but I found the right Kazakh film. Steppenwolf is a violent, post-western which kept me completely engaged during the recent heatwave that melted my computer. Ought to appease both genre film enthusiasts and cinephiles alike.

Nicolas Cage hitting rock bottom in the Australian psychological thriller The Surfer was another favourite of mine this month. Cage's best film since Mandy (2018), in my opinion.

 

Film:
It Came from Beneath the Sea (Robert Gordon, 1955)
The Man Called Noon (Peter Collinson, 1973)*
Eyeball (Umberto Lenzi, 1975)
Zombie Flesh Eaters AKA Zombie (Lucio Fulci, 1979)
Lost Souls (Tun-Fei Mou, 1980)*
Stagefright (Michele Soavi, 1987) 
Red to Kill (Billy Tang, 1994)*
Dangerous Animals (Sean Byrne, 2025)*
Steppenwolf (Adilkhan Yerzhanov, 2024 / 2025)* 
The Surfer (Lorcan Finnegan, 2024 / 2025)* 
 
Television:
Mastermind - Episodes 1-3 (Bill Wright, 2025 / 2026)* 
 
*First time viewings.

 

Dada Debaser Notes:

  • This is a remix! To what? It's a remix! To what? It's a remix! Had no idea until watching a feature on the recent 4K UHD of Zombie Flesh Eaters that its theme was a remix. The original being featured on a colourised and edited version of Godzilla (1954), released in 1977.
  • Stagefright is one of the best slashers of the 1980s and it should be a punishable offence everytime it's mislabelled as a giallo, just because it’s from Italy.
  • Ray Harryhausen's stop motion magic completely carries It Came from Beneath the Sea.
  • Lost Souls is a shocking exploitation film about Chinese illegal immigrants held captive by a criminal Hong Kong gang. Utterly sadistic and lives up to its notorious reputation. A dress rehearsal for the director's infamous Men Behind the Sun (1988); the film responsible for the introduction of the Cat. III rating.
  • Speaking of Cat. III, a jacked up, killer rapist is triggered into unspeakable acts every time he sees a woman wearing anything red, while a bunch of actors, who must have graduated from the Jack Douglas School of Acting, pretend to be mentally disabled and pulling faces in Billy Tang's thriller Red to Kill.
  • Jai Courtney plays an Aussie serial killer obsessed with sharks in Dangerous Animals. The result is Mick Taylor meets Steve Irwin and one very entertaining bad guy; everything else about the film, however, is not. A shark repellent heroine, a tedious romance and multiple eye-rolling plot conveniences to fill the running time, hamper a potentially great horror film.
  • Eyeball is a giallo revolving around tourists being bumped off in Barcelona. The victims are robbed of an eye. Why the tour is still allowed to continue as the body count rises is beyond me, but it makes for one of Lenzi's most entertaining gialli, regardless. Love the ghost train scene.
  • Richard Crenna is an amnesiac gunslinger out for revenge and the gold in the European western The Man Called Noon. Was intrigued by this as it's helmed by the same director responsible for the kitchen sink drama Up the Junction (1968), the classic crime caper The Italian Job (1969) and the underrated Hammer film Straight on Till Morning (1972). Decent western, overall; Patty Shepard steals the show as the villainess in black:

Tuesday, July 29, 2025

Wave in Fright

The Surfer (Lorcan Finnegan, 2024 / 2025)

The redemption arc of the eccentric Nicolas Cage is one that will be discussed by film bros for many years. The Oscar winner and Hollywood A-lister fell from mainstream grace and spent years in straight-to-video hell, before emerging again an as an indie film hero. He had also become an internet icon, prior; thanks to comical videos and memes, putting him on similar pedestal to Chuck Norris and Keanu Reeves. And so, Cage essentially cashed-in on his unhinged performances, leading to a late career renaissance and garnering critical acclaim with the films Mandy (2018) and Pig (2021). His latest endeavour, the psychological thriller The Surfer (2024 / 2025), is another notable manic performance in his illustrious career.

Set in the fictional locale known as Luna Bay in Western Australia, our protagonist makes his entrance driving his son to a house he's eager to buy. This residential property has personal significance to Cage's character, as it was his former childhood home. It's eventually revealed why he ended up in California; hence the lack of an Aussie accent. The Surfer is eager to buy it. Like all midlife crises, looking to rekindle the good times of his past; including his love of surfing. Being a Nicolas Cage film, nothing is ever that easy. It's not long before he's facing the prospect of being gazumped over his childhood home. To make matters worse, the territorial bogans won't allow non-locals to catch the waves. "Don't live here; don't surf here"

One would assume, given The Surfer's premise and Cage playing the action hero in the past, it would be heading into familiar territory; it doesn't. Instead, director Lorcan Finnegan opts for a surreal endurance, that's somewhere in between the fractured mental state of The Swimmer (1968) and the daylight horror of the Aussie nightmare Wake in Fright (1971). Furthermore, Cage spends much of the film trapped in a car park like a fly in a web. Finnegan absolutely relishes putting Cage through a gamut of suffering to it coming across as sadistic. Observing Cage gradually degrade to the point of having to rummage through bins for food, and drinking water from puddles littered with cigarette butts, is both tragic and farcical.

Yet, despite some heavy themes, The Surfer does not to really dwell into really psychological horror territory like those other films. It's first and foremost a vehicle accommodating Cage's comfort zone in going doolally. Therefore, Finnegan's film is equally an alternative comedy as it is a psychological thriller, in many respects.

Before long, Cage's dreams begin to shatter in a series of anxiety driven scenarios. A vagrant, credited in the film as the Bum (Nic Cassim), living in a broken down car, shares many ambiguous similarities with Cage's Surfer. The Bum warns our eponymous character that the leader of the local surf thugs is the one responsible for the death of his son, along with killing his dog, too. 

Scally (Julian McMahon), a men's surf guru, serves as the film's antagonist. Dressed in a hooded, red towel robe and sporting and a constant devilish smile, Scally puts the Surfer through the absolute ringer; where his entire world begins to collapse. It reaches the point where he even doubts his very existence given the grand conspiratorial scheme that seems to be against him. Even nature itself plays a part in crapping on the titular hero, as a parrakeet literally shit on him, along with a run-in he has with a rat; evoking the Australian ecological horror Long Weekend (1978).

The Surfer's biggest highlight is Cage charging to the beach wielding a "LOCALS ONLY" sign post as a weapon and confronting Pitbull (Alexander Bertrand), one of Scally's bully disciples. The fight results in Cage ramming a dead rat into the bully's mouth. "You eat it! Eat the rat!", the most quotable line in the entire film.

A difficult film to pin down. I enjoyed this a great deal, but it's definitely not for everyone; even I can admit to that. A very close friend of mine, who had seen it prior to me, absolutely hated it and warned me about it. Curiosity obviously got the better of me, and I was far more positive about it than him, as I found it a far more rewarding experience than many of the other films that have been released this year. Therefore, I can absolutely see The Surfer being considered a Marmite film. Personally, this is Cage's most entertaining film since Mandy, so make of that what you will.

Friday, July 25, 2025

Bad Meaning Good

Steppenwolf (Adilkhan Yerzhanov, 2024 / 2025) 

Not a film about the Rock band.

Like many out there, my ignorant knowledge of the former Soviet republic of Kazakhstan came from comedian Sacha Baron Coen's character Borat. Therefore, when Adilkhan Yerzhanov's nihilistic and violent post-western Steppenwolf (2024 / 2025) blipped its way onto my radar, I was more than just a little bit intrigued by it. Turns out Yerzhanov's film has its own sense of humour; one that is both dark and deadpan, peppered here and there amongst a brutal dystopian world.

The plot involves Tamara (Anna Starchenko), a woman with a stammer, looking for her missing son, Tamika. Her search leads to her nonchalantly walking into a violent gun battle between rural lawmen and rebels in a remote police precinct. During the bullet-ridden massacre, Tamara meets Brajyuk (Berik Aitzhanov), a police interrogator / torturer who agrees to help her for a price. The pair share a common objective, as the person linked to Tamika's abduction is also someone that Brajyuk has a personal vendetta with.

There's an interesting dynamic between the pair of protagonists. They're an obvious odd couple. Tamara comes across as an angelic like entity in Yerzhanov's hellscape. She's introduced with a religious painting falling from her wall while praying. Her son immediately goes missing after this scene. Tamara's timid and introverted disposition is starkly contrasted with the rough and coarse world she inhabits. An assault rife fails on multiple attempts when fired at her. Brajyuk, on the other hand, is almost the devil incarnate on occasions; an individual who appears stoic initially, but breaks out into childish dances at times. He is a cold-blooded killer, with almost no sense of honour. Brajyuk goes beyond the boundaries of conventional anti-hero territory to complete villain on occasions. Yet, their relationship is what makes this hellish road movie such compelling viewing. At the heart of this nihilistic and misanthropic film, is a quest for some semblance of humanity.

Particularly fond of the scene where Tamara musters the strength to cobble more than a few words together imploring for Brajyuk's help: "We need to find Timka, save him. He won't survive without me. They'll kill him. No one needs him. No one needs me. There's no good. I know it. I knew it all along. But it is necessary. Good is necessary. Please help. You're kind. Please help. Please...You're a kind person. Please help. We need to save Timka. You're kind. Aren't you? You are kind. Please help find Timka. Please." As the camera horizontally pans away from Tamara, it fixes on the contemplative Brajyuk. Her words seem to affect him. Alas, his response mockingly imitating her and laughing. And yet, for a split second, it's almost as if a shred of good was still lurking somewhere within his soul. Both actors' performances are exceptional.

The Kazakh Steppe is a striking location in this film. The arid region lends itself well to its dystopian setting. Along with Steppenwolf being shot in 2.39:1 aspect ratio, Yerkinbek Ptyraliyev's cinematography evokes classic westerns of the past. Those glorious widescreen shots of the natural vistas is inherent here. The morning mist over the grassy plains looks stunningly mystical.

Furthermore, some scenes take obvious inspiration from the western genre; notably, the iconic doorway scene of John Wayne walking away in John Ford's The Searchers (1956). That scene is referenced multiple times in Steppenwolf; even bookending the film. European westerns also wield their aesthetic influence on the film; particularly the framing and composition of Sergio Leone's westerns. Steppenwolf's handling of violence and male machismo is definitely evocative of Sam Peckinpah's work.

Bizarrely, Steppenwolf's soundtrack consists of effervescent sounding synthpop. Mixed feelings about this. Given the oppressive tone of the film and the gravitas of their shared task, I'm not sure this was the right choice. If anything, I got the impression Yerzhanov thought, "It worked with the couple in Nicholas Winding Refn's Drive (2011), why not try it here?" 

George Miller's Mad Max films are the most obvious influences, however. Given its desolate and cruel setting, you would be forgiven into thinking Steppenwolf's characters exist in a post-apocalypse. Life is cheap and dispensable. The morally bankrupt appear to reap the most chance of surviving in this world. If that's not enough, Brajyuk leather jacket is missing sleeve; an obvious reference to Max's wardrobe in Mad Max 2 (1981).

However, Steppenwolf does have some its faults. Its writing isn't quite up to par with the stunning visuals and palpable atmosphere. In fact, it becomes quite lacking in the final act of the film and relies heavily on its dystopian vibe and cool visuals; hence the pacing takes a hit and crawls to a much slower pace than what ought to be necessary. Character developments also kind of take a back seat. Thus, this section of the film is less Max Rockatansky and more Max Rockatarkovsky. Take for instance a scene involving Brajyuk meeting with his estranged father. Little is known of their past relationship, hence the resolution between the pair comes across as hollow and forgettable. The climactic battle with the regional gang boss / warlord feels rushed and anticlimactic. The old adage of the journey being more important than destination being taken far too literally by Yerzhanov. More importantly, without venturing into spoiler territory, the final scene between Tamara and Brajyuk is one that is both unsatisfying and bathetic.

Despite these issues, Steppenwolf is still a very good film, overall. One that I'm looking forward to revisiting again; possibly before the year is out. The type of late night genre mashup where you're not sure whether you actually watched it, or dreamt it. A tough, brutal and violent piece of cinema, yet still a beautiful and mesmerising viewing experience. Can definitely envision this becoming a modern cult film over the next few years.

Sunday, July 20, 2025

Out of Sight (and Sound)

Despite Letterboxd being another example of narcissists ruining another social media platform with their awful opinions, I do concede it's an invaluable medium for collating data on films being watched.

What's particularly noteworthy are the one hundred films from the 1960s which got a score of four stars or higher from me on the site. Haven't ventured further back than the '70s when compiling films picks from various years on this blog, so this list serves as as something of a curiosity. In any case, it does prove the '60s was a more productive decade than the measly eighteen films from the 2020s which also scored the same ratings as them.

By no means is it a best of list, but it does show everything that I've liked and logged there between 2014-2016 and my return in 2022 to the present day.

 

Beat Girl (Edmond T. Gréville, 1960)
Black Sunday (Mario Bava, 1960) 
The City of the Dead (John Llewellyn Moxey, 1960)
Eyes Without a Face (Georges Franju, 1960) 
Le Trou (Jacques Becker, 1960) 
Peeping Tom (Michael Powell, 1960) 
Psycho (Alfred Hitchcock, 1960) 
Spartacus (Stanley Kubrick, 1960)
The Time Machine (George Pal, 1960) 
Village of the Damned (Wolf Rilla, 1960) 
Cash on Demand (Quentin Lawrence, 1961)
The Curse of the Werewolf (Terence Fisher, 1961) 
The Guns of Navarone (J. Lee Thompson, 1961)
The Innocents (Jack Clayton, 1961)
Yojimbo (Akira Kurosawa, 1961) 
Cape Fear (J. Lee Thompson, 1962)
Carnival of Souls (Herk Harvey, 1962) 
Dr. No (Terence Young, 1962) 
The Manchurian Candidate (John Frankenheimer, 1962)
What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (Robert Aldrich, 1962) 
The Birds (Alfred Hitchcock, 1963) 
Black Sabbath (Mario Bava, 1963)
Blood Feast (Herschell Gordon Lewis, 1963) 
The Demon (Brunello Rondi, 1963)
The Girl Who Knew Too Much (Mario Bava, 1963) 
The Great Escape (John Sturges, 1963) 
The Haunting (Robert Wise, 1963)
Jason and the Argonauts (Don Chaffey, 1963)
L'Immortelle (Alain Robbe-Grillet, 1963)
The Sadist (James Landis, 1963) 
The Servant (Joseph Losey, 1963)
The Whip and the Body (Mario Bava, 1963) 
Blood and Black Lace (Mario Bava, 1964) 
First Men in the Moon (Nathan Juran, 1964) 
A Fistful of Dollars (Sergio Leone, 1964) 
Carry On Cleo (Gerald Thomas, 1964)
Goldfinger (Guy Hamilton, 1964) 
It Happened Here (Andrew Mollo, Kevin Brownlow, 1964)
The Last Man on Earth (Ubaldo Ragona, Sidney Salkow, 1964) 
Onibaba (Kaneto Shindō, 1964)
The Train (John Frankenheimer, 1964)
Two Thousand Maniacs! (Herschell Gordon Lewis, 1964)
White Slaves of Chinatown (Joseph P. Mawra, 1964)
Zulu (Cy Endfield, 1964) 
Bunny Lake Is Missing (Otto Preminger, 1965)
The Collector (William Wyler, 1965) 
Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! (Russ Meyer, 1965) 
For a Few Dollars More (Sergio Leone, 1965)
The Hill (Sidney Lumet, 1965)
The Ipcress File (Sidney J. Furie, 1965) 
Motorpsycho! (Russ Meyer, 1965)
Mudhoney (Russ Meyer, 1965) 
The Nanny (Seth Holt, 1965)
Repulsion (Roman Polanski, 1965) 
Alfie (Lewis Gilbert, 1966)
The Battle of Algiers (Gillo Pontercovo, 1966)
Carry On Screaming (Gerald Thomas, 1966) 
Daleks' Invasion Earth: 2150A.D. (Gordon Flemyng, 1966)
Django (Sergio Corbucci, 1966)
Dracula: Prince of Darkness (Terence Fisher, 1966) 
The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (Sergio Leone, 1966)
Kill, Baby... Kill! (Mario Bava, 1966)
The Plague of the Zombies (John Gilling, 1966) 
Trans-Europ-Express (Alain Robbe-Grillet, 1966)
The War Game (Peter Watkins, 1966) 
Belle de Jour (Luis Buñuel, 1967)
Bonnie and Clyde (Arthur Penn, 1967)
Cool Hand Luke (Stuart Rosenberg, 1967)
Death Rides a Horse (Giulio Petroni, 1967)
The Dirty Dozen (Robert Aldrich, 1967) 
In the Heat of the Night (Norman Jewison, 1967)
Hombre (Martin Ritt, 1967) 
Point Blank (John Boorman, 1967) 
Quatermass and the Pit (Roy Ward Baker, 1967)
Le Samouraï (Jean-Pierre Melville, 1967) 
Spider Baby (Jack Hill, 1967)
Carry On Up the Khyber (Gerald Thomas, 1968)
Barbarella (Roger Vadim, 1968) 
Danger: Diabolik! (Mario Bava, 1968) 
The Devil Rides Out (Terence Fisher, 1968) 
The Great Silence (Sergio Corbucci, 1968)
Night of the Living Dead (George A. Romero, 1968) 
Once Upon a Time in the West (Sergio Leone, 1968)
Planet of the Apes (Franklin J. Schaffner, 1968) 
Rosemary's Baby (Roman Polanski, 1968)
The Swimmer (Frank Perry, 1968) 
Targets (Peter Bogdanovich, 1968)
The Thomas Crown Affair (Norman Jewison, 1968) 
Twisted Nerve (Roy Boulting, 1968)
Where Eagles Dare (Brian G. Hutton, 1968)
Witchfinder General (Michael Reeves, 1968) 
Army of Shadows (Jean-Pierre Melville, 1969)
Blind Beast (Yasuzō Masumura, 1969) 
Camille 2000 (Radley Metzger, 1969)
Carry On Camping (Gerald Thomas, 1969) 
The Italian Job (Peter Collinson, 1969) 
The Laughing Woman (Pierro Schiavazappa, 1969)
The Wild Bunch (Sam Peckinpah, 1969)

 

Not entirely sure what the list reveals about your host, other than finding Gerald Thomas, the director of the Carry On films, being a far more prolific film director compared to revered auteurs Akira Kurosawa, Stanley Kubrick and Federico Fellini.

Curious to revisit those Alain Robbe-Grillet films, as I doubt I would have rated them so highly today compared to whenever I logged them on Letterboxd.

Monday, June 30, 2025

Viewings: June 2025

Tesis, a dark, low budget, Spanish thriller from the '90s, and Danny Boyle's divisive, coming-of-Rage sequel 28 Years Later were the standouts amongst the first viewings this month. Otherwise, it's mostly been an underwhelming affair; in particular, older films I was eager to see (e.g. Privilege).

The absolute best films were rewatches: The Taking of Pelham One Two Three, Dark City and 28 Days Later were all in a higher league compared to everything else.

Finally catalogued all my film reviews into one place. Link in the side bar.

 

Film:
Behind the Mask (John Francis Dillon, 1932)*
Black Moon (Roy William Neill, 1934)*
Horrors of Spider Island (Fritz Böttger, 1960)
The Silent Star (Kurt Maetzvig, 1960)*
Privilege (Peter Watkins, 1967)*
Signals: A Space Adventure (Gottfried Kolditz, 1970)*
Taste the Blood of Dracula (Peter Sasdy, 1970)
Violent City (Sergio Sollima, 1970)
Eolomea (Herrmann Zschoche, 1972)*
The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (Joseph Sargent, 1974)
In the Dust of the Stars (Gottfried Kolditz, 1976)*
Outland (Peter Hyams, 1981)
Delicatessen (Marc Caro, Jean-Pierre Jeunet, 1991)*
Jade (Director's Cut (William Friedkin, 1995)*
Tesis (Alejandro Amenábar, 1996)*
Dark City (Director's Cut) (Alex Proyas, 1998) 
28 Days Later (Danny Boyle, 2002)
28 Years Later (Danny Boyle, 2025)*
Ash (Flying Lotus, 2025)*
Clown in a Cornfield (Eli Craig, 2025)*
Final Destination: Bloodlines (Zach Lipovsky, Adam Stein, 2025)*
The Shrouds (David Cronenberg, 2024 / 2025)*
Sinners (Ryan Coogler, 2025)*
 
Television:
Doctor Who - 'Battlefield' (Michael Kerrigan, 1989)
Doctor Who - 'Survival' (Alan Wareing, 1989) 
MobLand - Season One (Various, 2025)* 
 
*First time viewings.

 

Dada Debaser Notes:

  • To celebrate the 50th anniversary of Jaws this month and paying my respect to the legendary film composer Lalo Scifrin, who passed away a few days ago, here's his version of the well known theme.
  • Did a review of the recent Doctor Who series before it potentially enters the wilderness years again.
  • Loved Peter Watkins's mock documentaries The War Game (1966) and Punishment Park (1971). Privilege is set in an authoritarian Britain where Paul Jones, of the group Manfred Man, has messianic powers over the population. This benefits his handlers, the church and the Labour and Conservative coalition which runs the country. It's nowhere near as fun as its audacious premise sounds, and by the end, I was relieved it was over. Doe-eyed Jean Shrimpton plays the love interest that predictably turns Jones's character against the establishment.
  • Once you get through the first two Guy Ritchie gangster fairytale episodes of MobLand, the series becomes even more ridiculous. Tom Hardy single handedly wiping out an entire warehouse full of villains like he's John Rambo, is one example. Still not quite as over-the-top as Gangs of London, however.
  • Watched a bunch of socialist, sci-fi films from East Germany this month. The adventure driven The Silent Star was the only interesting stand-out from what was otherwise a soporific selection amongst Masters of Cinema's Strange New World's: Science Fiction at DEFA box set.
  • Apart from Linda Fiorentino getting naked, the best thing about William Friedkin's giallo/erotic thriller, Jade, is its unintentional comedy. Had to remind myself I wasn't watching one of the Naked Gun movies at times; particularly during a ridiculous car chase
  • David Cronenberg's most personal film since The Brood is surprisingly funny for what's essentially meant to be a paranoid, conspiracy thriller. Vincent Cassell, uncannily looking like the director, plays the tech guru struggling to move on after the loss of his wife. Taking his date to a restaurant adjacent to his wife's grave, doesn't exactly help matters, nor does watching her rot on his iPhone app. Too many convoluted side plots and loose ends are unnecessary distractions from The Shroud's commentary on our personal privacies being invaded, make this a mixed bag.
  • Terrible VFX, idiotic characters and awful acting don't stop Final Destination: Bloodlines being a half-decent time waster. Tony Todd's ad-libbing made for a moving performance in his final ever scene.
  • Loved the Blues music, the Southern Gothic milieu and Coogler's unique spin on vampire lore in Sinners. The rest; not so much. Better off watching the two films which possibly inspired it   House Party and From Dusk Till Dawn. Miles Caton, Delroy Lindo and Jack O'Connell were good in their respective roles, regardless.
  • Speaking of the latter, never did I imagine a cult inspired by one of the most monstrous British celebrities would ever crop up in a post-apocalyptic setting:

Wednesday, June 25, 2025

Great Film Posters of the 2020s

Feeling burnt out writing mostly reviews lately on this blog. Therefore, here are some great film posters that would bless the walls of any discerning movie lover's abode; if they haven't tainted their homes already with unholy Funk Pop abominations, or vintage posters of pretentious foreign films they've never watched.

As far as I'm aware, these are all official commissions, and not some pervert from DeviantArt doing an alternative piece.

Late Night with the Devil

This official poster contains a far more strikingly, fiery image in comparison to the retro alternative. I also much prefer this title font over that over used Larchmont one in the other poster. Also, the typographic layout is far more visually interesting; particularly, in how it doesn't drown out the intentional negative space above.

Design: P+A 

MadS

The multiple pairs of eyes and the repeated titles are ingenious touches. A smart way to define three stories following one another. The nightmarish visage and the sickly colours grotesquely capture a bad trip and the zombie apocalypse.

Design: ???? 

Last Night in Soho

Really impressed how this poster can pass itself off as both vintage slice of pulp and as a fashion mock-up thanks to the perceivable use of magic markers. Striking contrast of the modern world in blues, while reds offer glimpses of the past. Two different worlds in Edgar Wright's film. Nice detail with the little stamp in the bottom corner, too.

Design: James Paterson

Warfare

Very much captures the siege aspect from the film. Fond of the oppressive colour of the building against that hazy yellow sky. The overhead telephone lines adding further geometric shapes. Really like how the most visually arresting part of the poster, for me at least, is the bold Helvetica title in a rich orange being suppressed by US marines. Totally captures the claustrophobic aspects of the film. Great poster.

Design: B O N D 

Mad God

If the eyes are the windows to the soul, than this Mad God poster makes me glad I'm not on the same continent as Phil Tippett, the film's director. You can basically screen shot any part of his insanely demented, apocalyptic film, slap the title text on it and call it a day. But I digress, I love how bold, grungy and unapologetically twisted this poster looks. Fantastic film, too.

Design: Ómar Hauksson

Prisoners of the Ghostland

The film may have been completely awful, but at least its poster is an absolute work of art. Nicolas Cage, with his back turned, standing atop a pile of bones and what not, that make up a samurai helmet, really drives home the East meets West mash-up which all were praying for to be good in the film. Wonderful choice of colours; the teal blue works so well with the red in the background. Stunning poster!

Design: Stockholm Design 

The Zone of Interest

Omitting the monumental horrors occurring in the background and turning them into a negative space while picturing the commandant's garden, perfectly highlights the film's banality of evil theme. An outstanding poster that compliments Jonathan Glazer's darkly disturbing film. 

Design: Kellerhouse, Inc. 

Benedetta

The blend of religion and eroticism in Paul Verhoeven's throwback to nunsploitation is successfully depicted in this controversy-courting poster. The film's title and Verhoeven's name forming a crucifix is an obvious design choice, but sometimes the most obvious decision is the best decision  —, and this is it, right here. Highly evocative and reminiscent of those memorable covers Nigel Wingrove would have on his Redemption Films label back in the '90s.

Design: Le Cercle Noir 

The Last Duel

The minimalist design reminds me of Saul Bass's style to a degree. Jodie Comer caught in between the duelling swords is relevant to the film's premise, and very tactile on this poster. I'm also glad it doesn't have either Matt Damon's or Adam Driver's mugs on it, in all honesty. 

Design: Legion Creative

Possessor

Can barely remember much of Brandon Cronenberg's science fiction horror film, but every time I see the poster for it on my Letterboxd feed, I keep meaning to revisit it. It's such a disturbingly, warped image. I love all the effects on it; reminds me of the Plastic Wrap filter in PhotoShop. Above all, I adore that title font being partially reflected and the poster looking like it's been submerged in a tank full of urine. Repulsively eye-catching!

Design: Legion Creative

Monday, June 23, 2025

Boyle with Rage Again

28 Years Later (Danny Boyle, 2025)

When the news was announced that Danny Boyle and co-writer Alex Garland (a dead ringer for DJ Yoda) were returning to the post-Rage blighted Britain, which they first unleashed with their horror film milestone, 28 Days Later (2002), it instantly became the most anticipated film of the year for this film blogger. It was an absolute game changer to the the zombie/infection subgenre. The film's innovation and influence credit it as the patient zero in all things zombie related throughout the Noughties and 2010s. Therefore, its creators seemingly have a mighty task in delivering a follow-up equally as exciting, fresh  and terrifying with 28 Years Later (2025).

Decades after the Rage virus outbreak, the entirety of Great Britain has been quarantined off from the rest of the world. Survivors exist, but they are remotely scattered. Lindisfarne, also known as Holy Island, off the Northumberland coast of England, is one such example. Separated from the mainland by a natural causeway which reveals itself  in low tide, the survivors have become a living community. Amongst them, is twelve year old Spike (Alfie Williams). He must undergo a rite of passage, where he will cross over to the mainland with his father, Jamie (Aaron-Taylor Johnson), and put the hunting skills he has learned to the test. To kill your first infected is akin to a blooding in hunting; symbolising Spike's transition from a child to a man. These important steps into a proverbial larger word, will become the film's drive. This rite of passage will also play heavily in the plight of Isla (Jodie Comer), Spike's mother, who is afflicted by an illness and bed-ridden.

A special mention deservedly goes to its break out star, young Alfie Williams. Child actors tend to over act, but his performance is first rate in 28 Years Later. That's no mean feat when you're performing opposite experienced actors Jodie Comer, Aaron-Taylor Johnson, and the consistently great Ralph Fiennes. Big fan of Comer and Johnson's Geordie accents. 

We learn that the Rage Virus has evolved since the outbreak. The infected no longer starve to death, as first shown in Boyle's prior film. They are able to eat; therefore, they no longer starve to death like before. The outbreak's spread to Paris, as shown in the epilogue of 28 Weeks Later (2007), has been successfully driven back. It's an obvious retcon by Boyle;  nonchalantly explained in a blurb of text. That would explain why Boyle's vision of an isolated Britain, with European fleets around its waters, comes across as a possible allegory to Brexit. An island isolated from the rest of the modern world; one that revealed to have regressed to the past, where they use bows and arrows again. Bereft of modern tech and weaponry, various scenes from Henry V (1944), particularly where archers are drawing their bows, are intercut with the Holy Island's inhabitants. The solitary flag of St. George overlooking the North Sea.

Technically, 28 Years Later's attention to detail is on par with George Miller's post-apocalyptic Mad Max universe. All the more remarkable that returning director of photography Anthony Dod Mantle, shot it all with iPhones. Some novel visual treatments; like red night vision scenes, are particularly effective. The film also has its own brand of bullet-time; more accurately arrow-time, is a mixed result. Initially impressive, but its over use quickly becomes gimmicky A major draw, is how evocative it is of sixties and seventies era British films in its visual style and feel. Holy Land has a wonderful Summerisle vibe, along with John Wyndham's The Day of the Triffids. The latter, having already been a major source of inspiration for the first film. 

The virus's evolution has resulted in three distinctive types of infected: the fast ones that we're accustomed to from the previous entries; Slow-Lows are grotesque and blubbery humanoids which crawl on their bellies and scavenge for worms and other earth grub. The most dangerous of them all are Alphas. These specimens have been affected by the virus also serving as a growth steroid; turning them into huge, hulk-like humans, hung like a horse. They possess superhuman strength, speed and resilience and the most formidable for any armed group. Alphas are also more intelligent than their other brethren; even acting as pack leaders to other infected.

28 Years Later has three disjointed acts of varying quality. In the first act, we get to experience Spike's first trip to the mainland with Jaime. It is by far the best part of the film. Spike spends more time with his mother in the remaining acts, where we're also introduced to shipwrecked Erik Sanqvist (Edvin Ryding), a Swedish NATO soldier, who provides a window to the rest of the world. The iodine tinted, Dr. Ian Kelson (Ralph Fiennes), a Col. Kurtz-like loner is the remaining character introduced in Spike's coming-of-age tale. Plot contrivances are more apparent as the film progresses. The third act in particular is much slower paced, and very much drags at times, in its emotional development to Spike's story arc. Without delving into spoiler details, one distinctive scene attempts to pull a heartbreaking sequence, but Boyle's execution is so cumbersome, that it feels unearned and weirdly comedic. Therefore, the constant emphasis on memento mori fails to truly resonate.


Bizarrely, the final scene of 28 Years Later, one that bookends the intro, where a group of children nervously watch Teletubbies during the initial spread of the outbreak, and eventually leading to Jack O'Connell's character in the second chapter of this new trilogy, is perhaps the most jarring scene in the entire film. Brits will no doubt be familiar with who O'Connell's cult is based on, by their hair and wardrobe, but to the rest of the world, not so much. If anything, the final moments, which are beyond surreal and discordant with the rest of the film, might actually dissuade anyone even bothering with Nia DaCosta's follow-up, 28 Years Later: The Bone Pile (2026), next January, when people do some inevitable Googling.

Technically, 28 Years Later's attention to detail is on par with George Miller's post-apocalyptic universe. All the more remarkable that returning director of photography Anthony Dod Mantle, shot it all with iPhones. Some novel visual treatments, like a red night vision scenes, are particularly effective. The film also has its own brand of bullet-time, more accurately arrow-time, that is remarkable, initially, but is over used too much in the film and winds up feeling gimmicky for the remainder. A major draw, is how evocative it is of sixties and seventies era British films. Holy Land has a wonderful Summerisle vibe, along with John Wyndham's The Day of the Triffids, the latter, having already been a major source of inspiration in the first film.

Overall, Messrs Boyle and Garland have delivered a perplexing film. This ought to have been the film of the year. It's riddled with plot holes, ridiculous contrivances and tonal inconsistencies, and yet, it still manages to be an entertaining post-apocalyptic spectacle. The first act is cinematic heaven; it's just a shame the other two aren't on that same level. This is obviously faint praise, but as a first time watch, 28 Years Later is one of the more enjoyable releases from what's been an otherwise disappointing year thus far for films. Whether or not, I'll still feel the same way about it after a repeat viewing, remains to be seen.

Thursday, June 19, 2025

Up to Snuff

Tesis (Alejandro Amenábar, 1996)

Video cassettes spawned a new way in how we watched films. Gone was the ritualistic process of having to find out what the local screenings were in advance; along with the potential of a film being ruined by a bunch of annoying twats sat in the auditorium. Video brought convenience to the masses. The ability to pause and rewind a specific scene gave us the ability to analyse with more scrutiny. It also opened a proverbial pandora's box. Mature content, bereft of a video classification, became more accessible to minors with lax parents; including theatrically rejected titles finding a new lease of life on video cassette. It would lead to the infamous Video Nasty hysteria. More importantly, it would usher in a new generation of extreme horror aficionados as well as a general desensitisation as whole in how society sees violence. This is the main backbone to Alejandro Amenábar debut thriller Tesis (AKA Thesis, 1996).

Ángela Márquez (Ana Torrent), a student at the Complutense University of Madrid, is researching the effects of audiovisual violence upon society for her thesis. She's introduced in Amenábar's film onboard a stationary train. Along with her fellow passengers, she's made to alight from the transport, as a person had thrown themselves in front of the tracks. With morbid curiosity, she scrambles to get a peak at the gory mess. An official guides her away from the gruesome sight. Ángela's ghoulish interest is also evident when she asks her tutor, Professor Figueroa (Miguel Picazo), to lend her some dodgy tapes from the university's video archives; for research purposes, of course. This begs the question: what kind of reputable educational establishment would have morally reprehensible content on its shelves? Ángela also enlists the help of weirdo student Chema (Fele Martinez), a loner known for having an appetite for extreme horror and pornographic films. 

The mystery unfolds once Ángela's professor stumbles upon a mysterious iron door in the archives and discovers a room with video tapes. Figueroa comes to an unfortunate end, when Ángela finds him dead in the screening room; apparently while watching the tape he retrieved from the archives. Whether or not foul play was at hand, remains ambiguous. However, given the professor's obese state and constant respiratory wheezing, he could have just as well popped his clogs whilst watching Mary Poppins (1964). Our protagonist grabs the tape and rushes back home, without reporting the professor's death to anyone.

Ángela attempts to watch the tape at home, but is too afraid of whatever horrors she will see. Instead, our protagonist records its sounds onto an audio cassette. Listening on her walkman, the chilling sounds of a girl being tortured are too much for her. Therefore, it's off to Chema's fly-tip of a hovel to get him to watch it and describe what's occurring on-screen while her back is turned. Whist her back is turned and Chema's grisly intrigue, the pair stumble upon the revelation that it's an actual snuff tape. To drive it closer to home, Chema recognises the victim as a former university student who disappeared a couple of years prior. Thus, much like that all too familiar giallo trope, Ángela and Chema become unwitting amateur sleuths in a film laden with curveballs and misdirections to sate fans of Hitchcock style thrillers and Italian gialli.

Apart from its dark plot, heightened tensions and palpable suspense, what really drives Tesis forward is how well written the characters are. Ángela and Chema are like oil and water. At first, our heroine is like a moth to a flame in her morbid curiosity. She can barely watch the horrors which draw her, but she gradually is able to face it once she spends more time with Chema. A similar transformation happens to her sidekick. He becomes much warmer to Ángela, once she realised, much of his obnoxiousness and edge lord behaviour is more or less a personal shield in dealing with the outside world. Ought to add, despite living in absolute filth, Chema is right up there Mark Petrie, Tommy Jarvis and Charley Brewster as great fictional horror aficionados. Chema unashamedly wearing a Cannibal Holocaust (1980) T-shirt to university and adorning posters of Shocker (1989) and Alien 3 (1992) in his grotty bathroom speak volumes to me. A stark contrast to Ángela's solitary film poster in her bedroom of My Own Private Idaho (1991). Which has me cheering for him to not to die, solve the mystery and get the girl, even if he does give off school shooter vibes.
 
Bad boy Bosco Herranz (Eduardo Noriega) enters the fray as another integral character in the film. He's spotted by Ángela operating the same model video camera linked with the recording of the snuff film. Equally damning, is his association with the victim from the tape. Looking like Spain's answer to Paul Walker (Pablo Caminante, if you will), Bozco has Ángela both swooning and terrified of him. A key sequence reveals Ángela's mental being, as she dreams of having sex with Bozco, before he stabs her. Worth mentioning, both Ángela's mother and sister are smitten when Bozco charms his way into their house. The complete chad to Chema's virgin. 

Despite the few instances which defy logic (the secret area behind the metallic door in the university's video archives, being the obvious one), a night club playing the most atrocious euro techno music, and being around fifteen minutes too long, there's a lot I like about Alejandro Amenábar's thriller. Abundant plot twists and a number of red herrings, make it constantly engaging. It's all the more impressive once you realise this is incredibly low budget, written and helmed by a twenty three year old film graduate shooting at his university, and more importantly, more enjoyable than Mute Witness (1995) and 8mm (1999), two other Hitchcockian style thrillers from around that era, also themed around snuff films.

Tesis swept up all the major Goya awards (Spain's answer to the Oscars) in 1997. Alejandro Amenábar would follow-up its success with his science fiction drama Open Your Eyes (1997). He would cast both Martinez and Noriega again, alongside the gorgeous Penelope Cruz. It would get the American remake treatment, retitled to Vanilla Sky (2001) and starring action movie midget Tom Cruise. The remake would also feature Penelope Cruz reprising her role. Amenábar would also deliver The Others (2001), a fantastic supernatural chiller with Cruise's other half at the time, Nicole Kidman. No idea what Amenábar is churning out today, but I can confidently claim, he came out of the gate running with his impressive talent as both a writer and director. Tesis is superb mystery thriller.

Here's a currently working YouTube link of Tesis. Not sure how long it will remain, though,