Slow West

The House of the Devil (Ti West, 2009)

Nostalgia is usually a wistful affection for the past. In the case of the film industry, it's a lucrative hustle. A safe bet averting the risk of an original offering failing. Hence, successes from yesteryear are turned into sequels, prequels, remakes, reboots, interquels and whatever new spin can be hustled up in order to milk that cow. Thankfully, writer and director Ti West has always had a better grasp of what nostalgia entails than the vast majority of hacks lazily associating '80s aesthetics with grainy video filters, neon lighting and a synthwave soundtrack. In more recent years, his X trilogy (2022 - 2024) would mark his return to retro-style horror. However, the best example of West's masterful execution in this style is unquestionably his seminal retro horror The House of the Devil (2009); a remarkable shot on 16mm love letter to independent horror films of the '70s and early '80s.

Produced with a modest budget of just under $1M, The House of the Devil is a baby sitter in peril chiller set during the era of the Satanic Panic hysteria on the night of a lunar eclipse. The film's protagonist, Samantha "Sam" Hughes (Jocelin Donahue), is a college student who, desperate to earn cash and be an independent spirit, avoids a series of obvious red flags after seeing an advertisement for a baby sitter. The money on offer is too good to pass up, or so it seems. Thus, West's slow burn horror adds layer upon layer of elements that Sam can no longer avoid.

Of course, a young baby-sitter having to fend for her life in a horror film is hardly unique, but The House of the Devil does have the advantage of featuring one of the most realistic protagonists in this style of film. What makes Sam so special is the very fact she is both a down to earth and sympathetic character. Traits that have becomes increasingly rare in horror films since the 2010s. If anything, our protagonist is in the very same mould as Laurie Strode from John Carpenter's Halloween (1978). The girl-next-door.

Sam wouldn't be so well realised on film if it wasn't for Jocelin Donahue's great acting. The feathered hair, flannel shirt and high waisted jeans might be throwbacks to vanilla, do-gooder final girls from yesteryear, but Donahue manages to portray her character with incredible depth in her nuanced performance; making her a compelling character on screen. Donahue is an integral element to the film feeling equally authentic to the vintage vibe of the film. Therefore, it's such a disappointment not seeing her perform in anything equally as substantial ever since the release of the film.

As for the supporting cast, this includes recognisable veterans from notable genre films of the past. Dee Wallace has a minor role at the start of the film as a sympathetic landlady. Tom Noonan and Mary Woronov have larger roles as the unabashedly creepy Ulmans; the couple eager to hire Sam to babysit "Mother" so they can go off to celebrate the all important lunar eclipse mentioned throughout the film. Additionally, A.J. Bowen's callous spontaneity is alarming playing their son Victor. The bearded actor, shares a shocking scene with Sam's bubbly best friend Megan (Greta Gerwig), who might have been modelled on Lynda Van Der Klok, that can't be forgotten anytime soon.

Like many films of the '80s, The House of the Devil features a short music montage. Apart from the novelty factor of seeing Sam with her walkman dance around the spooky Ulman house to The Fixx's One Thing Leads to Another, it acts as an important segue from the slow build up of terror of the first half to the all out panic-mode in the second half of the film. The song abruptly ends once Sam accidentally knocks over a vase and a revelation to the immediate danger she is in.

Considering The House of the Devil has layers of nuance and an intentional slow pace, particularly in the first half, it's a title often criticised for being too slow by the Ritalin generation. Therefore, it's essentially a Marmite movie; you either love it, or hate it. Your host is one of those who absolutely adore it.

The ‘00s was a decade dominated by remakes. Remakes of classics from yesteryear and English language versions of foreign films for an audience too lazy and ignorant to read subtitles. Torture porn would boom in popularity and outshine the previous decades' worth of comparatively tame splatter movies. Yet, throughout this cinematic meat grind, The House of the Devil went back to the essence; when fear and suspense were just as integral to a bloody payoff.  By going against the grain, Ti West managed to succeed where so many other film makers have failed and truly recaptured on film a bygone era.

Classic. 

Scenes from a Marriage

It's been another incredible year thus far for Blu-ray and 4K UHD releases. For your humble host, notable releases include Grindhouse Releasing's completely stacked Lucio Fulci masterpiece The Beyond (1981), Arrow films' highly desired Sergio Leone Dollars Trilogy (1966 - 1968), and Hammer entering the boutique foray with Brian Clemens's Captain Kronos: Vampire Hunter (1974) (given the relaunched company's Doctor Jekyll (2023) flopped hard in cinemas, I don't really blame them). But the icing on the proverbial cake, for many, might very well be Second Sight's forthcoming release of Andrzej Żuławski's art-house horror Possession (1981) being released this December. The UK home distribution company initially announced the film's release over two years ago. Therefore, it's become a hotly anticipated title amongst cinephiles, collectors and greedy scalpers eager to flip it.

Truth be told, Possession is a film too surreal and ambiguous to completely define by even the brainiest film analysts. However, a short and general description would suggest it being about the psychological turmoil of a marriage falling apart; becoming horror manifest with some disturbing scenes. Thematically similar to David Cronenberg's The Brood (1979); which itself, served as an allegory to the bitter breakup the Canadian auteur had recently undergone. Żuławski had the benefit of shooting in the fractured city of Cold War era Berlin, adding to the film's central theme and creating a cold and captivating back drop in the process. The Polish director also managed to amass two career defining performances out of his two leads, Sam Neill and Isabelle Adjani. The experience left them both emotionally wrecked, and in the case of Adjani, she was left feeling suicidal.

Possession is often listed as one of the greatest films of all time amongst film critics, cinephiles and turd wave feminists. Call me a philistine, but despite its quality, it wouldn't get a spot in my ten favourite horror films released that very same year:

An American Werewolf in London (John Landis)

The Beyond (Lucio Fulci)

The Burning (Tony Maylam)  

Dark Night of the Scarecrow (Frank De Felitta)

Dead and Buried (Gary Sherman)

The Evil Dead (Sam Raimi)

Friday 13th Part 2 (Steve Miner) 

The Howling (Joe Dante)

The Prowler (Joseph Zito)

Scanners (David Cronenberg)

Fidel Gastro

The Platform (Galder Gaztelu-Urrutia, 2019)

Occasionally, a film which has been on my radar winds up disappearing like Malaysia Airlines Flight 370. Netflix's The Platform (2019), or, if we want to call it by its original Spanish title, El hoyo is one such film. Helmed by a first time director Galder Gaztelu-Urrutia, The Plaform piqued my interest largely due to it being a dystopian sci-fi thriller where residents of the Vertical Self-Management Centre, a vast prison tower nicknamed The Pit, serve a given period in order to achieve their freedom and improved status in the outside world. The inmates are allowed one object while confined in The Pit, which can be anything from a weapon to a violin. Each day, these individuals are fed via a magically descending concrete platform laden with food. The catch being, it's the only meal of the day and those on the highest levels can gorge on as much food as they want once the descending platform spends a short limited time on their level. Thus, the higher-ups can feast like kings, while the lesser fortunate, further down, might face the very real possibility of starving to death. Hence, The Platform is an exploration of classicism, greed and the true test of human solidarity. A further twist to this situation is the inmates being reassigned to a random level at the start of each month. 

Frank Zappa lookalike Goreng (Iván Massagué) is the latest inmate. Armed with a copy of Cervantes's novel Don Quixote, it's not long before he's forced to learn the basic rule of survival inside the megastructure: Eat to survive! Goreng's cellmate, Trimigasi (Zorion Eguileor), a short and stocky elderly man with a misanthropic outlook on life, is wondering how long his new cellmate will last.Trimigasi is also pleased that he's on Level 48 in the complex; a relatively high level where food is more likely to be available from the upper level. More chance of leftovers. The disparity between the two individuals could never be more different; including the reasons for their admittance in The Pit. Goreng volunteered to be in their for an accredited diploma, while it was either a one year stint in the hell hole or forever in a psychiatric hospital for throwing a TV out of his window and accidentally murdering someone.

Goreng comes with the solution that it would be fairer to ration the food. An amused Trimigasi asks him, if he's a communist. Goreng attempts to persuade the higher ups, unsurprisingly, he's ridiculed. Similarly, his plea is also rejected by those below him. It's not helped when the odious Trimigasi urinates on the lower level after they complain about no wine being left, either. The elderly cellmate's logic being they would have done the same, if the tables were turned.

Trimigasi: The people below us are below us.

Goreng: Next month they might be above us. 

Trimigasi: Yes, and they'll piss on us. The bastards.

Goreng also has his first encounter with the beautiful Miharu (Alexandra Masangkay), a mute and battle-scarred woman, who rides the platform in the desperate hope of finding her child in the lower depths of the pit. Goreng is shocked by the notion of a child even being in the concrete hellhole. And yet, as Goreng's first month rolls by, he adapts to his environment; becoming more comfortable with eating from the platform and forming a close bond with Trimigasi. The scenes where he reads to his elderly cellmate and they exercise together for their mental and physical healths, are genuinely endearing.

Our cellmates' relationship takes a dramatic turn once the sleeping gas wears off and Goreng wakes up tied and gagged to his bed by Trimigasi. It's the start of a new month, and the pair are now way down the hole on Level 171. Starvation is very real. Trimigasi has been in this position before and survived it by resorting to cannibalism. The elderly man proposes a dark and twisted offer to his cellmate: he'll carve strips of Goreng's flesh to feed the both of them. In the midsts of his leg being cut up by the old cannibal, he's saved by Miharu and Trimigasi is subsequently killed by Goreng. Thus, the wannabe revolutionary himself turns to cannibalism in order to the rest of the month in the Pit. Having eaten human flesh, the act has made Goreng see visions of Trimigasi; haunting him from beyond the grave.

Another month, another twist of fate. Goreng is now on Level 33, a far more survivable part of the Pit. He's greeted by Ramses II, a sausage dog owned by a woman named Imoguiri (Antonia San Juan), the very same admittance officer who interviewed him for his application for the Vertical Self-Management Centre. Having lost her fight with cancer, the new inmate has decided to spend her final weeks learning of what her work has led to. She quickly learns how naïve she has been and makes similar pleas for solidarity and rationing to the other levels, echoing Goreng's first month. But it hits much harder for Imoguiri being a former employee for this diabolical construction. She has blood on her hands. How many have died here? Could her employers really have put a child in this ungodly construct? When the month passes, Goreng discovers he's on Level 202. Imoguiri has taken her own life. Once again, Goreng must eat human flesh. Another vision forever accompanying our protagonist. Imoguiri and Trimigasi now serving as our protagonist's good versus bad conscience.

Ascending to a more privileged Level 6 the following month, Goreng has a plan. Estimating there must be around 250 levels, our protagonist persuades his latest cellmate, Baharat (Emilio Buale), a religious man who literally gets shitted on by the higher-ups during an escape attempt, to descend to the lower levels with him in order to feed the prisoners below. They will demand the inmates on the first fifty levels to go without food for the day and use physical force if necessary to enforce it. During their decent, they encounter a scholar who suggests a message must also be sent to the hand that feeds them on Level 0; an untouched dish. The panna cotta is the message. 

The slow descent to the lower levels is easily the piece de resistance of The Platform. Gaztelu-Urrutia takes obvious inspiration from Dante's Inferno. The two cellmates traversing down on the magical concrete slab makes for compelling viewing. You're never sure what they expect. On one level you see charred remains of two people, on another two cellmates in a rubber pool, who turn out to be the film's story writers. A further twist is the platform going even further down than Goreng's estimation. It turns out out to be 333 levels. Two cellmates on each level. It couldn't be more clear what the Pit represents.

Gaztelu-Urrutia's commentary on capitalism and classism is about as subtle as being punched in the face by Frank Castle. Hardly, the first film with these criticisms, let alone the only that year. Bong Joon Ho's critically acclaimed Parasite (2019) was also released at the time. However, the South Korean black comedy, is a far more stylish and nuanced offering, whereas The Platform is ugly and austere. Incidentally, The Platform has more in common with Bong Joon Ho's dystopian sci-fi thriller Snowpiercer (2013), but the advantage of Tilda Swinton and Chris Evans not being in it. Another obvious influence is Vincenzo Natali's proto-Saw film Cube (1997) in its concept. Each of  The Platform's characters seem to represent archetypes in the dog eat dog world of the capitalist hierarchy: Trimigasi completely capable of committing evil to get to the top, while Imoguiri being blissfully unaware of her part in the brutal system she's contributed to until it's too late. Lastly, Goreng representing the socialist revolutionary striving for solidarity resorting to violence to enforce it after all pleasantries fail. The viewer never gets to see who runs the show, only a grim looking maître d' and cooks meticulously preparing the banquet of incredible food which is never enough to feed everyone.

The only real gripe is the ambiguous ending that I won't spoil. Considering how openly blunt the film's messaging has been, why opt for a cop out ending that's so intentionally vague? A notable sore point observed from other reviewers. Regardless, this wasn't enough to ruin my overall impression of the film. The many positives outweighed those final moments.

The Platform is a horrifying film; brutal, nihilistic and hard to recommend to any dog lovers. However, it's the film's sci-fi concept which is the most extreme aspect. The brutalist construct boxing everyone into various levels as an allegory to the class system. I absolutely loved this film so much, I immediately hunted checked out Gaztelu-Urrutia's two other subsequent efforts. Alas, both The Platform 2 (2024) and Rich Flu (2024 /25) are significant downgrades and even more infested with shameless Marxist propaganda than your kid's university. The latter film being utterly soporific despite a ridiculous premise of a virus which only targets the wealthy. In any case, at least comrade Gaztelu-Urrutia has one truly great film under his belt, making it a crying shame it's rotting on Netflix and not available on any English friendly physical format release.

Viewings: September 2025

It's been a rotten film year thus far, but Zach Cregger's Weapons is a noteworthy highlight that goes against the grain, and a reason to still remain positive. A gem of a film balancing dark humour and dread filled horror with aplomb.

 

Film:

The Hound of the Baskervilles (Sidney Lanfield, 1939) 

Missile to the Moon (Richard E. Cunha, 1958)*

The Hound of the Baskervilles (Terence Fisher, 1959)

Teenage Gang Debs (Sande N. Johnsen, 1966)*

A.A.A. Masseuse, Good Looking, Offers Her Services (Demofilo Fidani, 1972)*

Love and Death in the Garden of the Gods (Sauro Scavolini, 1972)

Dark City (Alex Proyas, 1998)

Caught Stealing (Darren Aronofsky, 2025)*

Dracula: A Love Tale (Luc Besson, 2025)*

Weapons (Zach Cregger, 2025)* 

 

Television:

 Earth - Season 1 (Various, 2023)*

Mastermind - Episodes 7-11 (Bill Wright, 2025 / 2026)*

 

*First time viewings.

 

Dada Debaser Notes:

• Torn over which is the best Sherlock Holmes film adaptation I watched this month. 20th Century Fox's 1939 film boasts Basil Rathbone, the definitive actor to have played the great detective (even after the time jump), but I can't help being mesmerised by Hammer's gothic technicolour splendour in the 1959 film.
• A.A.A. Masseuse, Good-Looking, Offers Her Services is an awful giallo that focuses more on its lead actress getting in and out of her kit for most of the film than anything else. Predictably dull and only notable for its relative obscurity (until recently).
• Sauro Scavolini's Love and Death in the Garden of the Gods is a twisted psychosexual drama before veering into giallo territory near the end. Definitely an acquired taste, but I enjoyed revisiting this again.
• Manhattan bad girl Terry (Diane Conti) moves into a Brooklyn neighbourhood and quickly moves up the ranks of a local gang — thanks to being complete dynamite in the sack  — in the largely plotless Teenage Gang Debs. It's a juvenile delinquency movie where the teens look around thirty, dance like your parents at a wedding and wear knitted cardigans at a knife fight. It's been done better elsewhere, but I did enjoy parts of it, though.
• Keep forgetting to make notes for Alex Proyas's Dark City, as I really want to review it, but too much time passes by where I'm no longer in the right zone to cover it. Incredible film, regardless.
• Style wise, Luc Besson's utterly awful Dracula: A Love Tale borrows heavily from Francis Ford Coppola's adaptation, initially. After that, he's mining the perfect scent scenes from Tom Tykwer's Perfume: The Story of a Murderer (2006) and Jamelia's Money music video. Even with all the makeup, Caleb Landry Jones still looks like Axl Rose than the titular count, and the CGI stone gargoyles can't be taken seriously.
• Apart from featuring every bloke's sci-fi fantasy — a planet populated with extraterrestrial babes (there's always going to be a cat fight, eventually!) — the best thing about Missile to the Moon are the laugh out loud rock monsters:

Missile to the Moon | Rock Monsters Scene

Richard E. Cunha | 1958 

 

Other Stuff I Enjoyed This Month:

The third part in Crab Apple's incredible run down of BBC 2's Horror Double Bills; The Martorialist's favourite Female Rap Songs of the 2020s; The Flashback Fanatic's review of Heavy Metal (1981), Chris Wood's review of Assault (1971) and Dave Parker's epic Top 25 Horror Movies of 1982 video essay.

Picks of 1985

You can sum up 1985 as the year when Arnold Schwarzenegger, Chuck Norris and the legendary veteran Charles Bronson earned higher body counts than Prince. On the subject of 80s action heroes, let it be known that Sylvester Stallone did more for world peace than any stoner hippie, glorified philosopher or corrupt politician by ending the Cold War with one of the greatest movie speeches of all time. 

After Hours (Martin Scorsese)

Back to the Future (Robert Zemeckis)

The Boys Next Door (Penelope Spheeris) 

Brazil (Terry Gilliam)

The Breakfast Club (John Hughes)

Commando (Mark L. Lester) 

Day of the Dead (George A. Romero)

Death Wish 3 (Michael Winner) 

Flesh + Blood (Paul Verhoeven)

Friday the 13th Part V: A New Beginning (Danny Steinmann)

Fright Night (Tom Holland)

The Goonies (Richard Donner)

Invasion U.S.A. (Joseph Zito) 

Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome (George Miller, George Ogilvie)

The Mean Season (Philip Borsos) 

Mr. Vampire (Ricky Lau)

A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy's Revenge (Jack Sholder)

Pee-Wee's Big Adventure (Tim Burton) 

Phenomena (Dario Argento)

Police Story (Jackie Chan) 

The Quiet Earth (Geoff Murphy)

Rambo: First Blood Part II (George P. Cosmatos) 

Ran (Akira Kurosawa) 

Re-Animator (Stuart Gordon) 

Rocky IV (Sylvester Stallone) 

The Return of the Living Dead (Dan O'Bannon)

Silver Bullet (Daniel Attias)

The Stuff (Larry Cohen) 

To Live and Die in L.A. (William Friedkin)

Weird Science (John Hughes)

Witness (Peter Weir) 

Blindspots & Incomplete Viewings:

The Coca-Cola Kid (Dušan Makavejev); Come and See (Elem Klimov); Confessions of a Serial Killer (Mark Blair); Crimewave (Sam Raimi); Into the Night (John Landis); The Last Dragon (Michael Shultz); Legend (Ridley Scott); Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters (Paul Schrader); Pale Rider (Clint Eastwood); Runaway Train (Andrei Konchalovsky); Teen Wolf (Rod Daniel); Typhoon Club (Shinji Sōmai)

1985 was a treasure trove for perfect musical montages and needledrops gracing various films. A personal fave is the scene from William Friedkin's To Live and Die in L.A. when Willem Dafoe makes counterfeit bills and Wang Chung's City of the Angels plays.

To Live and Die in L.A. | Making Counterfeit Money Scene

William Friedkin | 1985 

Children of the Night

Weapons (Zach Cregger, 2025)

Never really understood the praise for Zach Cregger's Barbarian (2022). Despite an intriguing concept, revolving around an Airbnb in a derelict neighbourhood, it was let down by some idiotic characters, particularly its lead, along with a ridiculous final act. As a result, I found the film to be somewhat mediocre and indistinguishable from the glut of other overrated horror titles released at the time. Therefore, with Cregger's latest effort Weapons (2025) receiving an abundance of love via critics and movie goers alike, I was more than willing to let its hype die down before even mustering the strength to see it. Fortunately, Weapons is a considerate improvement over Cregger's previous film and a welcome surprise.

Centred around the mysterious disappearance of a classroom of third graders from their homes one night, Weapons is a non-linear film broken up into multiple intersecting chapters; highlighting the ripple effect of the event via various characters. School teacher Justine Gandy (Julia Garner) the town's pariah blamed for the disappearance of her classroom, and Archer Graff (Josh Brolin), father to one of the missing children, embarking on his own personal investigation of the mass disappearance, have more screen time than some of the other featured characters, such as the school's comical principal Marcus Miller (Benedict Wong). The final and most expository chapter in the film deals with Alex Lilly (Cary Christopher), the only child in Justine's class not to disappear into the night.

Performance wise, Garner and Brolin are very good in their roles; the former managing to play a deeply unlikeable character initially and turn it around into a deeply flawed and sympathetic individual, whilst the latter delivers an intensely emotional state of a parent coping with the loss of his child. However, it's Amy Madigan's performance as Aunt Gladys, best described as looking like the missing link between Kathy Griffin and the Joker, who will undoubtedly be most well remembered here. Partly because she resembles an old hag, with an ill-suited orange wig and terrifying grimace, but it's also due to how great she is playing such a manipulative and chilling character. No doubt, this won't be the last we'll see of Aunt Gladys.

Much like his previous film, Cregger injects dark humour throughout this mystery tale. Considering its premise, these comedic scenes are both cathartic and very welcome relief. Cregger also laces surreal dream sequences that tread the line of conventional horror films and art-house surrealism. Other highlights include some disturbing scenes that won't be forgotten in a hurry. Seeing a bloody and bug-eyed Benedict Wong running through the town like an absolute lunatic is one such example. Additionally, it's refreshing for a film to not cop out with a vaguely ambiguous explanation for an ending. An annoying cliché, which is both pretentious, unsatisfying and a blight upon many films. 

At a little over two-hours long, Cregger's slow burn thriller is just a bit too long for a film of this ilk. It's largely due to Cregger investing so heavily in multiple characters receiving a dedicated chapter. While these chapters are executed with entertaining satisfaction, I'm not entirely sure the film needed so many segments. Both the cop and junkie storylines could have probably been streamlined better, or possibly omitted. Still, along with a few plot holes, it's not a serious gripe in what's otherwise a genuinely entertaining film with a hilariously disturbing Benny Hill ending.

Hollywood occasionally delivers a large budget, mainstream horror that actually delivers the goods; Weapons is definitely one of those films for me. Given how mediocre I found Barbarian, I'm kind of glad I gave Zach Cregger a second chance as he might be the go-between of 2010s era James Wan and pre-up his own pretentious arse Ari Aster. Which subsequently has me eager to see what Cregger delivers when he tackles the Resident Evil franchise.

Recommended.  

Viewings: August 2025

Karel Kachyňa's The Ear was the only discovery I liked enough to even bother with a dedicated blog post. One of the few films dubbed as new wave which didn't bombard me with pseudo intellectual diarrhoea. The Ear is an accessible and thought provoking film, with some alarming parallels to our current timeline. Well worth checking out.

 

Film:

The Mask of Fu Manchu (Charles Brabin, 1932) 

The Long Hot Summer (Martin Ritt, 1958)

Beyond the Time Barrier (Edgar G. Ulmer, 1960)

Carnival of Souls (Herk Harvey, 1962)

Lunch Hour (James Hill, 1962)*

Doctor Zhivago (David Lean, 1965)

The Ear (Karel Kachyňa, 1970)* 

Smile Before Death (Silvio Amadio, 1972)*

The Weapon, the Hour, the Motive (Francesco Mazzei, 1972)*

The Secret of Seagull Island (Nestore Ungaro, 1982)*

Cobra (George P. Cosmatos, 1986)

Enemy Territory (Peter Manoogian, 1987)*

Hellbound: Hellraiser II (Tony Randel, 1988)

Her Vengeance (Ngai Choi Lam, 1988)*

Def by Temptation (James Bond III, 1990)*

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga (George Miller, 2024)

Eddington (Ari Aster, 2025)*

Red Sonja (M.J. Bassett, 2025)*

Superman (James Gunn, 2025)*

 

Television:

Mastermind - Episodes 4-6 (Bill Wright, 2025 / 2026)* 

*First time viewings.

 

Dada Debaser Notes:

• The god Leviathan, the Labyrinth, Dr. Channard cenobite, Pinhead's origin and Julia's metamorphosis from the wicked stepmother to the evil queen; this is how you creatively expand upon a classic film and deliver one of the best horror sequels ever. Feeling like a right mug not including it in my GOAT Brit flicks list.
• Did not expect the depth and drama exploring the price for revenge in Cat. III thriller Her Vengeance. There's still enough to appease the exploitation crowd, however, particularly an '80s action movie montage and a brutally violent showdown for a finale.
• Smile Before Death is a very sleazy giallo with an insufferable theme that plays ad nauseam. Effectively guaranteeing I'll never bother with it again.
• Sticking with giallo: The Weapon, the Hour, the Motive is an acceptable murder mystery surrounding the death of a randy priest. Hilariously, the detective investigating the case winds up proposing to one of the prime suspects.
• Enemy Territory is a curious entry from the legendary B-movie company Empire International Pictures. It's neither a horror, sci-fi or a fantasy movie, but an urban thriller set in an apartment building that's very much inspired by Assault on Precinct 13 (1976) and The Warriors (1979). It's nowhere near as good as those, however, but it does have a great over-the-top performance by Tony Todd as The Count, the psychotic leader of a gang called The Vampires.
• James Gunn once again transplants his tried and tested formula of outsiders finding a surrogate family in another comic book movie. Worked with unfamiliar / forgotten characters like Star-Lord or Polka-Dot Man, but surprisingly not with his Superman outing. Gunn's irreverent humour also feels very dated and ill suited for such a wholesome character like the Man of Steel, especially after years of quips being run into the ground from similar movies. However, the biggest issue is the lack of time given for the viewer to process everything, and therefore it's one CGI set-piece to the next. I gave it three stars on Letterboxd; too generous, in hindsight. 
• There's a half decent crime thriller lurking about somewhere in Ari Aster's latest overlong picture. Having to wade through over an hour's worth of cringe, satirising the insanity of 2020, is the reason why I'll most likely never bother with Eddington again.

And finally: R.I.P. Terence Stamp and Ray Brooks!

The Ear of Living Dangerously

The Ear (Karel Kachyňa, 1970)

With recent changes in online safety laws, I was in the mood for some Kafka-esque style thriller centred around authoritarianism working for the so-called greater good. Enter Karel Kachyňa's previously banned The Ear (AKA Ucho, 1970) — a film that tends to be lumped in as part of the Czech New Wave by various film critics and the like. Please believe the term new wave is the equivalent of kryptonite to your host. Pretentious film makers in this field are always justly worthy of mockery and ridicule, but I'll give them their fair dues if they deliver the goods. Life is far too precious to waste on some overrated, avant-garde spergfest like Věra Chytilová's Daisies (1966), a film also banned by the Czechoslovakian Communist Party (largely because of it being nonsensical shite rather than glorifying the rot of Capitalism, in my humble opinion) and subsequently worshipped today by pseudo-intellectual film snobs and septum-pierced hipsterellas. Then again, I am a fan of Jaromil Jireš's excellent fantasy horror Valerie and Her Week of Wonders (1970), another film in the Czech New Wave canon. Fortunately, the gamble paid off, as The Ear is another winner for your host.

Ludvík (Radoslav Brzobohatý) is a deputy minister returning home from a political shindig with his drunken wife Anna (Jiřina Bohdalová). Once they're dropped off outside their house, things don't seem right. Ludvík notices a parked car in the distance that appears suspicious. To make matters worse, Anna has lost the keys to the front door. Locked out, Ludvík attempts to sneak back in via the rear of the house. Once inside, there is no electrical power. Ludvík dismisses it as a power cut in the local area. However, Anna notices their neighbours opposite have all the their lights on. And thus, paranoia and anxiety worm their way for the couple. 

The premise paves the way for a compelling film revealing all the resentment in Ludvík and Anna's marriage, along with them living under a totalitarian regime where privacy is but a rare luxury. Even in their own home, there is no realistic sanctuary for them, as the couple believe their home is bugged; Anna mockingly calling whoever might be listening to her conversations as "The Ear". In particular scene, it's implied that the couple have sex in the kitchen as their bedroom is more than likely bugged. Much like Ludvík, the viewer is made to piece the puzzle together in the reason for their sinister predicament.

Via a series of flashbacks set at the aforementioned party, we learn of possible details that account for  Ludvík and Anna's safety being in jeopardy. Ludvík's peers were all absent from the ministerial soiree and the husband suspects he might be in midsts of a purge. In the case of Ludvík's boss, it might have been because he was Jewish and therefore subsequently "summoned" elsewhere off screen. There's a striking contrast between these flashback scenes and rest of the film where the couple are skulking about their home in the dark. One is an ultra bright and dreamlike setting, where drunken housewives wear newspaper hats, and visiting Russian officials, in military regalia, are comically leaping about like frogs; the other, is the two fearful protagonists, illuminating their home with old-fashioned candelabras, looking like they're transplanted into a gothic Italian horror. The quick cut editing between the two juxtaposed scenarios is perhaps the reason for its new wave label. It's jarring, initially, but achieves the objective of cluing in on the events leading up to the surmounting paranoia and dread throughout the progress of the film. 

Despite the surmounting levels of fear in the film, there are some unexpectedly amusing lines peppered here and there. One particular scene at the aforementioned party has Ludvík's comrade telling him that the catering staff are compromised, "See how he serves the food? None of them is a trained waiter, they're all spies!" Snarkily demanding, "Give me a bit of salmon. It's that red stuff  over there."

It isn't long until men in suits are wondering around outside the couple's property. A fearful Ludvík attempts to flush an important ministerial report down the toilet; eventually resorting to burning it. Anna wanting to open a window from the smoke, but warned not to by Ludvík, so not to alert the men outside their property. This is a sobering moment for her. Witnessing one of the men outside taking a vegetable from their garden, Anna comments, "They're stealing our radishes. At least he left the cabbage." A few seconds of jest whilst her world comes crashing in on her.

Amidst all the unfolding chaos, Kachyňa focuses heavily on his protagonist's estranged marriage and provides some heavy insight into both of these characters. It's the reason why The Ear is often likened to Edward Albee's play Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolf? albeit with the paranoia of Francis Ford Coppola's The Conversation (1974). Given the latter, it's somewhat likely The Ear might have had some influence upon on the American director's surveillance thriller.

Karel Kachyňa was already a veteran film maker when he co-wrote and directed The Ear. This might explain his brazen criticism of his government without any kind of fear of reprisal. Surprisingly, the film even received a theatrical release in the former home nation of Czechoslovakia; albeit, a very short lived one, as it was quickly pulled and banned by the ruling Communist Party. It would take twenty years and the Iron Curtain to be drawn back for for the film to ever resurface again. The Ear was screened at the 1990 Cannes Film Festival and rediscovered once more. Fast forward to today, and its chilling commentary appears to be just as relevant now as it did back then. Last and not least, The Ear serves as a very early example of paranoid-infused political thrillers which were popular in '70s cinema.

Count the The Ear as a rare breed of film that is worthy of admiration by film lovers with an appreciation for paranoid thrillers, as well as poncey chin-strokers who frequent art-house cinemas.

The Ear is available on Blu-ray via Second Run as well as an upload on YouTube. 

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:

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.

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.