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.

Native Tongues

Kneecap (Rich Peppiatt, 2024)

Despite being drawn to the trailer and a handful of preview clips, my enthusiasm over Kneecap (2024) hit the backburner once early reviews were comparing it to Danny Boyle's Trainspotting (1996); a film which really made me feel I was in Bizarro World after all the unworthy praise it received. Thankfully, Frankie McNamara, the most entertaining culture critic from the Emerald Isle since Tom Paulin, gave the film his glowing approval. This was the impetus I needed to get off my arse and check it out.

Set in Belfast, Northern Ireland, this raucous comedy/docu-drama is essentially a semi-fictional origin story of the rap group Kneecap. Introduced as two young lads up for the crack, Mo Chara and Móglaí Bap are ceasefire babies - the common description of the generation grown up during Northern Ireland's more recent and peaceful period. The duo have been inseparable tearaways since they were wee weans putting weed in the Catholic priest's censor. In young adulthood, they are lairy and shell-suited street kids.

When the pair aren't dealing or partaking in various narcotics, they're making rap music in their indigenous language. Their insistence to rap in Irish serves two reasons: the preservation of their mother tongue and an act of defiance to the Northern Irish authoritarians. A noble cause which is shared with school music teacher JJ Ó Dochartaigh, who, after being summoned by the local police to serve as a translator, winds up becoming the third drug-binging member of Kneecap. Thus, donning his trademark tricolour balaclava as DJ Próvai.

At this point, I'm compelled to reveal my complete ignorance of Irish Rap; save for the confession that I copped the CD single Ship Ahoy back in the day by commie Hip-Hop group Marxman (in hindsight, the band’s name and their debut album cover were glaringly obvious). It were the love of Irish flutes and Sinead O' Connor's angelic singing on the chorus, Your Honour. They alone had me overlooking the painful, vowel-chewing rhymes of these rappers, and the rest of their horrid music. Really regret not climbing over the greased metal railings back in 1990 when myself and a bunch of mates snuck into Highgate Cemetery. If it weren't for the graveyard scene in The Omen (1976) being burned in my brain, where Gregory Peck caught his sleeve on an iron spike while a pack of rabid rottweilers were gnashing at his legs, I could have climbed over and pissed on Comrade Karl's grave and avenge the millions who perished from his ideology.

 

Back to the film. Kneecap is something of a gem on account of not dwelling on its subplots longer than necessary, which keeps the film moving at a breezy and entertaining pace. This is perhaps one of its greatest strengths. It's both satirical and slapstick; able to mock what some might consider sensitive issues, whilst also indulging in juvenile humour - especially when it pertains to drug consumption. A prime example is when the band mistakenly consume ketamine before a gig and Móglaí Bap's face turns into Sinn Féin's Gerry Adams. The anarchic group are caught in the crossfires of both the Belfast Police and the fictional paramilitary organisation known as the R.R.A.D (Radical Republicans Against Drugs), which leads to hilarious shots at both sides.

The supporting cast are particularly strong. The film's most recognisable star is undoubtedly Michael Fassbender as Móglaí's estranged father, Arló Ó Cairealláin; a paramilitary who faked his own death to avoid capture. Amazingly, Fassbender managed to carry the swagger of a bad ass, despite his scraggly ginger beard and wearing a pair of sandals. The gag Bobby Sandals was not lost on me. The affect of him being in hiding for so many years has had adverse affects on his family. His wife, Dolores (Simone Kirby), has become an agoraphobic and is literally a prisoner in her own home. Jessica Reynolds plays Mo Chara's love interest Georgia, a Protestant girl whose dirty talk during sex is both hilarious and messed up. She could pass for Annabelle Wallis's younger, brunette sister. Can definitely see her as a star in more mainstream films in the foreseeable future.

A huge shame the band's music isn't my cup of tea, however. For a bunch of rowdy rap lads with such immense energy, I kind of cringed to their EDM beats and awkward rapping. Obviously, their music is meant for less discerning broccoli-haired zoomers than an old git like myself, but it does set an obvious barrier. I suppose the concert performance scenes in front of a jam packed and completely rocking audience might be akin to Public Enemy's legendary Hammersmith gig to young 'uns, but the quality of their music is nowhere near in the same universe to a boom bap dinosaur, sadly. This is the one real drawback of the film. Kneecap isn't a band whose music I like enough to buy. Kneecap is a film I like enough to cop on blu-ray, however.

It might offend some for its colourful language and heavy drug use, but Kneecap contains plenty of boisterous energy and smart social satire that you can't help being won over by it. Much like Baz Luhrmann's Elvis (2022), Kneecap is another musical biopic which kept me entertained throughout its run time.

Highly recommended.

Can You Hear Me, Major Thom?

LOLA (Andrew Legge, 2022/2023)

Last year's Deadstream proved that no matter how passé first person/found footage films have become, a winner can still be produced today. Andrew Legge's forewarning from a dystopian timeline, LOLA (2023) shot on 16mm Bolex, is the latest film to follow suit.

Set in the late 1930s and 1940s, Legge's low budget, high concept, sci-fi feature is about a pair of orphaned and self-sufficient sisters, Thomasina (Emma Appleton) and Martha (Stephanie Martini) Hanbury, who build LOLA (named after their mother), a machine that is able to receive radio and television signals from the future. They become fans of David Bowie's music and eke out a living by visiting the bookies. With the onset of  World War II, the Hanbury sisters can't remain idly silent and opt to warn the public the times and locations of the Blitz bombings. With the accuracy of these prophetic reports, they become known as the Portabello Angel and soon draw the attention of the British Army.

Under coercion, LOLA becomes even more integral in aiding the British war effort. However, the continuous tampering with the future causes a butterfly effect that reshapes the rest of the twentieth century. So long, David Bowie, Bob Dylan and Stanley Kubrick! And hello, fascist popstar Reginald Watson! The miraculous invention proves to have other devastating consequences in the current timeline, too; a morally questionable decision made by Thomasina (commonly referred to as Thom throughout the film) results with the US withdrawing from the Allied powers. Further to this disaster, the over reliance of LOLA causes the Nazis to feed false information; leaving the port of Dover undefended against in the invasion. With the Germans marching through England, the sisters are branded as traitors. Martha (nicknamed Mars), goes on the lam and attempts to right the wrongs her and her sister have committed. She films a message in the vain attempt for it to be received by LOLA at an earlier point in time to end the nightmare.

This is the type of time paradox related sci-fi that greatly appeals to me. All the more impressive are the doctored newsreels embodying the alternate timeline, edited with the sisters' home movies in pushing the story. These tidbits, which are peppered throughout are the reason why the film feels so mesmerising. It's a similar effect to the the vintage docu-news reels from Zelig (1983) and Forrest Gump (1994). There are also small nuances like the sisters' language, dress style and behaviour being more modern and out of sync with 1940s England. Way less enthused about the latter, however. I can accept the constant cursing and Thom's blokish appearance, but does the viewer really need to watch Mars taking a piss while standing?

While LOLA ought to be applauded for its technical proficiency, the film's writing is somewhat wanting. The releationship between Thom and Mars doesn't give the impression that they're siblings. At times they act like a lesbian couple; which is very evident with them both sharing a bath together. Not exactly sisterly, is it? There's also Mars becoming romantically involved with a British army officer called Sebastian (Rory Fleck Byrne), which strains the relationship between the two sisters. Oddly enough, Thom seems to act like a jealous ex lover at times. The issue with the writing doesn't stop there sadly, as the finale culminates with a ridiculous rescue that reminded me of the castle scenes from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989). It might have worked on a big budget, all-star adventure flick helmed by Steven Spielberg back in the day, but on a more cerebral, grainy looking, sci-fi drama made today, it comes across as rather cringeworthy. This tarnishes the film, in my opinion. Thankfully, LOLA gets back on the right track with its poignant final message; even though the Kubrick hommage ending (you'll know it when you see it) is a tad heavy-handed.

Legge's debut feature is an extension of a similarly themed, short film narrated by Jeremy Irons, The Chronoscope (2009). The twenty minute featurette, featuring fake historian talking heads, is a more amusing take on alternate history compared to his debut feature. Much prefer LOLA over it, however. Regardless of its already listed flaws, the gravitas of such a real and monsterous evil actually conquering the world will always be a terrifying concept. For this reason alone, LOLA resonates hard with me.

LOLA ultimately depends on your appreciation for alternative timeline films. As evident with the gold standard set by Kevin Brownlow and Andrew Mollo's It Happened Here (1964), the concept is hardly a new one, but it's a theme that I've found equally fascinating and disturbing; therefore, I'm more likely to overlook its various glaring faults to a certain degree. To think, if a bit more care was spent in it avoiding some typical fanfic levels of writing, which is at odds with some seriously impressive effort everywhere else, LOLA might very well have been one of the best British films in recent years. Still a very good film, regardless.

My Little Powrie

Unwelcome (Jon Wright, 2023)

Ireland has produced some solid horror films over the years, and director Jon Wright has played a hand thanks to standouts like Tormented (2009) and Grabbers (2012). His latest film, Unwelcome (2023), is a fairy tale style horror inspired by Celtic folklore that I've seen accurately described as Straw Dogs meets Fraggle Rock.

After a traumatic home invasion, young couple, Jamie (Douglas Booth) and his expectant wife Maya (Hannah John-Kamen), discover they've inherited a house in the Irish countryside and so upsticks from the shit hole that is London for greener pastures. With their new home needing repairs, our couple unknowingly hire the services of the local scumbag family, led by the patriarch "Daddy" Whelan (Colm Meaney). As can be expected, things escalate from loafting while on the job to more threatening territory. To add further fuel to the fire, our protagonists' home also has other occupants residing at the bottom of their garden - folklore creatures known as redcaps.

Unwelcome harkens back to old creature features in the vein of Gremlins. Filmed with a combination of traditional practical effects and digital wizardry, the end result for these violent redcaps is very impressive. Along with their wicked nature, the imps are entertaining to watch as they lay the smack down upon the Whelans. Their comedic actions and behaviour were what really made the film for me.

The garden scenes were filmed in a studio. This proved to be an ingenious decision, as it utilised the exaggerated theatrics present in old studio films for instant visual changes to occur. I also observed the use of a studio evoked the twisted fairy tale atmosphere of Neil Jordan's The Company of Wolves (1984). This stylised treatment adds a lot to the fantastical elments of the film.

Unwelcome isn't entirely perfect. Fantastical as the premise might be, Jamie being such a failure is cringe to watch at times, regardless if it's for comedic purposes. His character does develop some courage during one confrontational scene; in a similar vain to Dustin Hoffman in Straw Dogs (1971), but he's definitely a burden to Maya at times. She is the stronger person of the two, and it becomes more apparent throughout the film that she is the film's focal point.

Kudos to Jon Wright for avoiding what could have potentially been another excrutiatingly pretentious, art house, folk-horror and delivering an accessible and entertaining creature feature for commoners like me. Since Hatching (2022) eventually made it onto Joe Dante's radar, then I would wager Unwelcome's murderous critters would wind up on there, too. It's not perfect, but Wright's film manages to break the disappointing run of horror films that have been around in the last few months and that's a cause for celebration from me. Enjoyable film.

Ten Reasons Why Zardoz is a Cinematic Mess

Dada Debaser made the terrible mistake of revisiting John Boorman's infamous Zardoz (1974) recently, with the naive hope it might have improved over the years. Sadly, it's still a convoluted and incoherent dung heap, but that doesn't stop habitual drug users and film contrarians hailing it as a misunderstood masterpiece whenever underrated sciene fiction films are discussed. One man's trash is another man's treasure, I guess. Personally, I'm thankful George Lucas came along and changed the game for us folk looking for proper entertainment and escapism.

Here are ten reasons why I consider Zardoz ostentatious bilge and why it will never be included in any forthcoming Best British Films list from me - like anything I've seen by Mike Leigh:

1. Allegedly, John Boorman was as high as a kite when he wrote, produced and directed the film. It becomes evident very early on that the film is an exercise of style over execution. Various sections of Zardoz are so inpenetratable that even Boorman admitted he didn't totally understand parts of the film. So why are we meant to bother with it then?
   
2. Desperate for work and to shake off any James Bond style typecasting, Sean Connery felt comfortable enough to wear a red loincloth and thigh high boots for the majority of the film, but for this humble film blogger, it's a laughable eye sore. So ridiculous in fact, that any potential prospect in taking the film remotely seriously for one iota of a second is completely lost on me. The film's costume designer was Christel Kruse Boorman, none other than John Boorman's wife; whose only other film is another of Boorman's films, The Emerald Forest (1985). Reeks of cronyism to me.
   
3. Connery went a step even further than his proto-mankini, which Borat ended up nicking, by a wearing a wedding dress in one scene. It's an example of the film's obvious attempt at humour, but I guess you really had to be there to find it funny.
4. Zardoz's whole "the gun is good; the penis is evil" speech makes next to no sense since his acolytes, the Exterminators are raping the Brutals and are descendents of them.
   
5. Charlotte Rampling is the go to actress when it comes to casting a posh lass in challenging or controversial cinema; to the point she's still starring in them today, however even her talents can't shrug off the obvious tripe she has to put up with in Zardoz, such as all the phallus talk and making Zed (Connery) watch porn and checking to see if he's gotten a boner.
   
6. With the exception of Victor Bueno and Silly Kid, fake god, Zardoz, aka Arthur Frayn has the most punchable face ever. At the behest of 20th Century Fox to make the film make any real coherent sense, Boorman includes a prologue which fails miserably at expaining anything.
   
7. The Eternals are meant to be telekinetic ruling class blessed with immortality, with a penchent for green baguettes. Obviously inspired by H.G. Wells' Eloi from The Time Machine in terms of futuristic flower power children living in a communal paradise. However, they're more theoretically a hybrid of the mutant humans with psychic powers from Beneath the Planet of the Apes (1970) and the pretentious hippies from the Rainbow Rhythms dance class featured in Peep Show (2003-2015). The Eternals are an even greater sum of these parts since they're way more vexing, cruel and pretentious making them hard to tolerate throughout the entirety of the film.
8. The Tabernacle's use of levity is so poorly executed that it ruins any potential to take the film seriously. Zed (Connery) attempts to make sense of the world he inhabits, but the Tabernacle delivers awful lines like, "You have penetrated me. There is no escape. You are within me. Come into my center. Come into the center of the crystal!".
   
9. Zardoz's influence is cancerous to other film makers. That bloke Ben Wheatley, who reminds me of Heather Trott who used to be in Eastenders, is a big fan of Zardoz. That explains a lot, since he's been delving into pretentious tosh for a decade now and hasn't delivered a good film since Sightseers (2012). Ironically, Boorman has three good movies and one semi decent one - Point Blank (1967), Hell in the Pacific (1968), Deliverance (1972) and the first half of Excalibur (1981) - while Wheatley has less than that.
   
10. When Empire, a once great film mag that I read on a regular basis, gave five star reviews to overrated grot like Grease (1978), Kes (1969) and West Side Story (1961), but awarded Zardoz a posthumous one star rating, then you knew the film was a complete train wreck even for them. Film critic,Will Thomas ended his review by describing it as "dodgy on every level".

It's amazing how John Boorman still had a career following this shambolic cock-up of a movie. Astonishingly, Zardoz wasn't even his worst film, since he continued his predilection for mise-en-scène above any logic with the spectacularly awful Exorcist II: The Heretic (1977). I personally classify this sequel a hate crime as Boorman had been on record with his loathing for William Friedkin's demonic classic. Friedkin wound up having the last laugh in the end as Boorman's film was a commercial and critical flop. Whether it's true or not, Friedkin's schandenfraude is the source of one of my favourite movie related anecdotes on YouTube and a nice little diss to Boorman and the morons who produced it. To think, it could have all been avoided if they watched Zardoz and brought a sick bag with them.

Zardoz (Trailer)

(John Boorman, 1974)