Following Claire through a harrowing childhood to university where she meets Danny, a frequently intoxicated photographer who exposes her to real life through a cocktail of love and drugs. Their relationship is tested when ghosts of Claire’s tumultuous past manifest through super 8 video footage causing her world to unravel. Sodium Party has a lot in common with the films of David Lynch (particular moments are especially reminiscent of Lynch’s Mulholland Drive), as well as taking narrative cues from Jacob’s Ladder and Memento. More so than Lynch or Adrian Lyne, Sodium Party exudes the kitchen sink surreality of a Philip Ridley film. Rich, dark and surreptitiously effecting.

Deliberately paced with a carefully constructed rhythm that is dexterously cut together, clearly they knew exactly how they wanted the end product was to look and feel. At points, it may seem to dawdle occasionally, but these moments pay dividends in the climax. As the film courses on, traditional narrative is disassembled as the ground begins to shift under Claire’s feet. Shifting also for the viewer, it creates an uneasy but satisfying viewing experience. Dealing in overlapping themes such the cyclical nature of life, cause and effect and, particularly, the loss of innocence, Sodium Party wants you to consider the moment where innocence is truly lost. Certainly, Claire’s life is seemingly a succession of purity shattering moments.

While Sodium Party is skilfully shot with a deft eye for lighting and framing – the production values are particularly high for such a low budget venture – the digital sheen renders it just shy of cinematic enough to bear the weight of its content. McCudden uses a rich colour palette and a wonderful set of locations to tie the fantastical narrative to a world that is recognisable but still remains vivid and preternatural. In a film awash with strong but varied performances, Slaine Kelly is particularly brilliant in her off-kilter, something’s-not-quite-right-with-her performance. Conveying a naivete combined with something altogether darker, Kelly’s Claire is the glue that keeps this film so tightly bound. James Corscadden imbues his character with such seedy charisma, Danny feels almost like a cult leader – with a congregation of one.

New filmmakers equipped with fully formed ideas and fresh insights are at a premium in the current climate of found footage and affordable DSLRs, and McCudden definitely fulfills that criteria. Unafraid of being challenging, Sodium Party is an accomplished first feature teeming with postmodernist creativity and subjectivist exploration. It may invite comparison to other films with similar design and narrative sensibilities, but it still manages to be uniquely tragic and emotionally arresting.

Rating: 8 out of 10 stars

Billed as a supernatural action-adventure, R.I.P.D. follows recently deceased cop Nick as he is forced to join the Rest In Peace Department as penance for being marginally crooked while he was alive. Nick is partnered with a wild west gunman named Roysifus Pulcifer and begins pounding a beat on the streets of New England putting ‘deados’ back in their place. It doesn’t take long before Nick and Roy stumble onto a plot to, like, open a portal to the afterlife or something. Yawn.

R.I.P.D. seems to have been compiled from a tombola filled with movie titles. While Men in Black and Ghostbusters bear the brunt, it bears uncanny similarity to the Treat Williams and Joe Piscopo zom-com, Dead Heat. The writers also preyed upon the likes of Constantine, Beetlejuice, 48 Hours, among others. There are so few original ideas at play in here that it almost runs like a clip show – The Greatest Hits of Supernatural and Buddy Cop Movies. Granted, one core idea that is only vaguely familiar has some mileage in the second act but quickly got old, only to be temporarily saved by the sagging face of James Hong. Nearly 10 years on from Stephen Sommers’ CGI bloat-fest Van Helsing and it seems that no one thought to inform Robert Schwentke of its mistakes. The effects would look pretty great if this movie was a collection of stills – a comic, maybe? – but any instance requiring the deados to not stand perfectly still and the ineptitude of their design becomes apparent.

Performances are next to non-existent, with the exception of Jeff Bridges clearly having fun subverting his recent proclivity for cowboy roles. He manages to be the most enjoyable thing in the movie, gurning and mugging his way through some olde timey cowpoke speak. Kevin Bacon must have spent all of that EE money, because all he seems to be doing here is cashing another cheque. Even the mystifying charisma of Ryan Reynolds is lacking as he stands around looking bored between grimaces.

It isn’t that R.I.P.D. is boring – it’s actually a fast-paced ride through some fun set-pieces – the problem is that there is almost nothing new or interesting on offer. Most of the visuals are well realised and rich, unsurprising as the DoP that wowed us with Sunshine, Alwin H. Kuchler, handles cinematography here. The gun battles are fast, energetic and coherent, which is surprising for this type of flick. Viewers in the early teens might find this a perfectly fine movie watching experience, but anyone else will see that R.I.P.D. is just flogging an undead horse.

Rating: 4.5 out of 10 stars

Jacob Vaughan populates his second feature with a cast made up of US sitcom’s brightest stars including Ken Marino, Gillian Jacobs and Patrick Warburton. Marino skirts the line between nuanced schlub of Louis CK and the unsubtle anxiety of Ray Romano, somehow along the way Marino manages to make Bad Milo more than a succession of poop jokes. Constantly the butt of everyone’s gags, his character is an identifiable everyman dealing with the stresses of modern life manifested in a horrifying way. While Stormare, Marino, and Stephen Root get the meat of the screenplay, little is leftover for the rest of the cast.

Aside from a few choice lines, Jacobs is particularly underused. In most cases, Patrick Warburton can steal a scene with one sentence and a narrowing of his eyes, but here he just dangles loosely. When the writing is on form, it really succeeds. However, sometimes finds itself in unfocused skit territory where improvisational riffing takes precedent over storytelling. It’s true that some of the funniest stuff comes out of the seemingly unscripted moments but these bum notes cost the film as a whole.

Stephen Root‘s appearance is no accident: Bad Milo feels like a spiritual successor to Office Space, with a dash of Basket Case and Gremlins thrown into the mix. While it may not reach the heights of those classic entries into their respective genres, it certainly holds it weight against recent horror comedies. Sure, any genuine horror is muted by the comic pacing and gooey punchlines of Bad Milo, but as a comedy reared from a horror plot – it works.

It’s gross and witty with some smart ideas at the core. While some may be turned off by the incessant scat humour, those who find pleasure in fart gags will find a home with Bad Milo. That’s not to say it only offers cheap defecation and gore; there are plenty of throwaway one liners across a range of topics that will continue to delight over multiple viewings. Fledgling film-maker Vaughan has a keen eye for interesting detail, aided here by cinematographer James Laxton. Visually stimulating enough to not detract from the comedy, there are a few instances of technical brilliance. Despite some murky writing and unexploited potential, Bad Milo is a surefire winner with fans of cult TV like Party Down, Community, and The Venture Bros.

Rating: 7.5 out of 10 stars

Beginning with a preview night on Wednesday 2nd October, Grimm 2013 runs right through until Sunday 6th over three venues. Preview night will be held at the fantastic Plaza Super Cinema in Stockport, the main event will once again be gracing Manchester’s iconic Dancehouse Theatre, and the brand new Grimmfest Fringe will be launching in the city’s finest arts pub, The Lass O’Gowrie.

This year, Grimm is offering the first chance for UK audiences to view Smiley, Home Sweet Home, On Air, and more, alongside FrightFest favourites Big Bad Wolves and The Borderlands.

Classic horror fans will have plenty to satiate their specific palettes too, with a screening of Robin Hardy’s masterpiece The Wicker Man and the promise of one of the first three Hellraiser films. You can vote for your favourite of the Hellraiser franchise over at the Grimmfest Facebook page and the winner will be shown at the fest! I don’t want to influence you too much but I voted for Hellbound: Hellraiser II…

Last year was bags of bloody fun and this year looks like more of the same! Head over to Grimm HQ to see the full lineup and buy your tickets to Manchester’s best horror festival.

Personally, I’m excited to see one of my favourite films from last year, John Dies at the End, on the big screen with an audience primed for weirdness. That will definitely get tongues wagging in the lobby!

Weekend passes ensure entrance into Grimmfest 2013 events from Thursday 3rd – Sunday 6th October and are available here.

Listen to the Gorecast’s coverage of Grimmfest 2012 here and here.

It’s very clear from the off that particular effort was made to ensure that The World’s End only bears cursory resemblance to Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz. Sure, there is stylised fence-hopping and Cornetto references but, beyond that, you’re in a whole new world. Simon Pegg plays a shit-heel living an almost junkiesque existence, as opposed to his usual stunted everyman, who cons his old posse into a trip down memory lane through 12 pubs with names that are handily appropriate for the unfolding narrative. Operating more as an ensemble piece than the usual two-handers, Eddie Marsan‘s put-upon Peter actually comes out on top in terms of interesting dialogue and the chops to really pull it off, leaving Pegg and Paddy Considine in his dust. Nick Frost gets his moment in the sun too, but a speech he gives in the second half of the film is so poorly handled that I am struggling to forgive him at all.

Unfortunately, The World’s End is a bag of ideas and themes that just don’t gel together. With so much unwieldy exposition jocking for position with five characters’ arcs and a hastily-assembled sci-fi plot thrown in, everything just gets a little lost in the melee. There are moments of brilliant writing, but the characters break under any real scrutiny because they are simply not fully percolated. Plot-threads are dropped and forgotten without any real explanation and then it ends. Badly. It’s not that it’s a bad film, it just doesn’t really work. All these disparate elements hover around each but they never meet meaning The World’s End never really functions as a cohesive whole.

Tonally, it touches on some of the same themes we have seen from the previous output of this gang. Gary King is Shaun taken to the Nth degree, a man-child imprisoned by his teens, held hostage by his former glories. The World’s End also looks at moving on, growing up and meeting the real world while still trying to retain some semblance of individuality. But the real message of the film is one of the evils of globalisation and conformity in modern society. Be sure to look down your throat though, because that is where this message is pitched. It’s about as subtle as a urinal to the face.

Despite it being a bit of a muddle, there are some real laugh out loud moments, alongside flashes of dour brilliance that hits you in that emotional sweet spot that Pegg and Wright seem to have on speed-dial. Much like with Shaun, it is easy to see yourself in some or all of the characters, which helps when you’re trying to tell a story with some emotional resonance. It looks great too. Wright matches his long-standing frenetic style with his newfound knowledge of high speed fight choreography and it makes for some impressive visuals.

When it is working, The World’s End is both funny and poignant in equal measure. There is heart and a sense of urgency that would, were it able to maintain, be a fitting and noble end to the unofficial trilogy. The sad fact is that it is just not stable enough to hold the myriad elements foisted upon it and, as such, spends most of its running time limply crawling in circles and forgetting its name.

Rating: 5.5 out of 10 stars

Possession is a gut-churningly vivid depiction of a marriage in disarray told through a prism of surrealism and allegory. Sam Neill and Isabelle Adjani are Mark and Anna, a couple pulled apart by malaise. Mark works for some sort of shady governmental body that somehow worms its way into the story and, while her husband is away, Anna seeks solace in the arms of others. “Others” is an almost perfect word for this situation because Anna’s affair is not only extra-marital, it may well be extra-terrestrial.

To suggest that Neill and Adjani realise their roles with gusto would underplay just how much hard work they both do. Sam Neill manages to capture anger and desperation in a way that few others could, going from placid to manic in three words or less, while Adjani is a torrent of emotion, sexuality and malevolence. When put together, these two performances simmer and flash until it all might look, to the untrained eye, like two people with foreign accents screaming at each other.

It’s true that it is not for everyone, but those who do indulge in Possession will find a challenging and thought-provoking experience. It’s a film that rewards you for taking part. You do have to participate though, as Possession is an experience rather than just a movie.

The film operates as a tour of your own sexual indulgences and obsessive behaviour and forces you to use this to feed your understanding of various characters motivations. This layer of active engagement takes you on a journey through the movie, creating a very personal viewing experience. Because of this, it is incredibly easy to get lost in the drama and ignore the beauty that surrounds it.

Beautifully realised and crafted, Possession blends arthouse with grindhouse to create something that has to be seen, but makes you feel like you shouldn’t be watching. Zulawski imbued Possession with a muted colour palette of soft greens and blues, alongside sturdy cinematography that makes the very best of Berlin’s stunning architecture. A city has never looked a barren or lonely as Berlin in this film, it’s truly an achievement.

Possession is an artful addition to the horror genre that still packs a mean punch, but not in the way that you might expect. It touches on well worn themes and still manages to be fresh, interesting and bizarre. Operating on a scale between pulp and scorching allegory, Zulawski takes us from Ludlum to Lovecraft and back again with such ease, it’s effortless and masterful in equal measure. It’s clear that Zulawski is still an influential figure in European filmmaking. Fragments of this films haunting use of colour, along with hints at its geometric approach to framing, continue to pop up in Hollywood and European film today.

Possession comes to blu ray on the 29th July from Second Sight.

Rating: 8.5 out of 10 stars

This week’s slice off of the World of Horror comes from The Ramsay Brothers, Bollywood’s first family of horror. Purana Mandir was made in 1984 and terrified an entire generation of Hindi film fans. Although little-seen out of its native land, Purana Mandir is hailed as a classic in India and for good reason. Containing everything from lavish dance numbers to demonic dealings and even chucking in some Kung Fu for good measure, Purana Mandir has a little something for everyone. Listen in to see what our western sensibilities make of this all singing, all dancing demon house movie!

We also stop off along the way to discuss the brand new Evil Dead remake, Netflix originals; House of Cards and Hemlock Grove, low budget space Jesus crap-fest I Am Here… Now, and Freddy Vs Jason.

Get in touch:
podcast@gorepress.com / (001) 425-606-5512 / facebook.com/gorecast / @gorecastx

And subscribe in iTunes!

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The Collection picks up pretty much where its predecessor left off, explaining the events of the first through a series of news segments. Arkin is stuck in his little box only to escape into the opening scene of Blade 2, where obvious final girl Elena and her friends are being pursued by a toned down version of the killer. Elena eventually gets collected, while Arkin is gently cajoled (with a gun to his head) to re-enter the Collectors hideout hotel by a private security team. Led by Lee Tergesen. It’s the Aliens of Saw sequels, but infuriatingly separate to the original.

My main problem with The Collection lies in the fact that it bears no resemblance to The Collector beyond some superficial similarities. The killer wears the same mask, but his entire modus operandi is different. Where the Collector of the first flick utilised trip-wire traps and tricked-out pratfalls, this one totes a machine gun and sets people on fire. I’m not going to say it isn’t fun, but it certainly doesn’t feel canonical.

I was especially worried when the secret rave plot point was introduced at the very beginning, but that was handled brilliantly. At first it feels like Dunstan is continuing in the vein of The Collector by introducing this incredibly over the top trap which tears through hundreds of pretty young revelers. But after this satisfyingly macabre opening, The Collection shifts completely, ending up in standard, muted horror territory. When Arkin is forced to go back to LV-426, I mean, that un-named cave in the Appalachians, I mean the killer’s hotel of horrors, I just deflated. It’s template sequel stuff, and the guys who so accurately lampooned genre flicks in their Feast movies should know better.

The Collection does have its moments, but for the most part is a lazy sequel that doesn’t have the “fuck yeah” quality of the first installment. I winced at broken arms and dying dogs but the suspense of the previous is all gone. Viewed as a standalone film, it might get more play from audiences but fans of The Collector may be out of luck.

Rating: 6 out of 10 stars

The answer, it seems, is yes.

Careening between classic Raimi-esque splatter, Japanese ghost story and modern possession horror visuals, Evil Dead does almost exactly what you would expect it to do. It effectively retells the story of the five doomed friends on a trip to a cabin in a fresh and modern way. Writers Alvarez and Rodo Sayagues inject some new emotion and urgency – as well as an interesting way of keeping them in the cabin long after I would have legged it – through the addition of one of the characters trying to kick a drug habit. All the while, it shares some of the sensibilities of its source, mixing gleeful splatter and hints of camp with a sort of sprawling tone strokes you one minute, only to slap you the next that made the original flick so ubiquitous.

First-timer Fede Alvarez has crafted a tight, dark picture that powers through its 90 minute running time at a breakneck pace. Shot in the washed-out horror palette of pale blues and grays that we’ve come to expect (and lament) of the genre, Alvarez rides a line between modern film-making standards and the rough-around-the-edges proto-modern techniques that Sam Raimi himself developed during production of the original Evil Dead. One character in particular feels like they have been transported wholesale from the 1981 film as he seems to be shot almost entirely using Raimi‘s angular approach. This works especially well for those familiar with the source, because it allows the filmmakers to mess with us. They have the ability to use what we think we know as a chopping block for shock when things deviate from our comfort zone.

It’s not all roses though, as big chunks of the performances are pitched at a weird level. This exacerbates some of the many clunky dialogue sections into sounding like throbbing tubes of awkward. It almost felt like late 80′s horror performances, aiming for sincere but just pushing through into a land beyond realism. To be fair, at some points it felt intentional so maybe it was the result of a conversation between actors and director in which they decided to throw some ‘classic’ acting styles into the mix.

Evil Dead plays with the classic themes in a fun way, but doesn’t require you to be a fan in order to enjoy it. Fans of the originals should find fun in seeing how familiar moments are slotted in with new contexts and fresh outcomes. Sure, there are moments of unnecessary fan service – the post-credit stinger is pointless. It feels like a last ditch attempt to win over those who consider The Evil Dead to be one of their sacred cows – but mostly, the nods are respectful and intentionally smirk-inducing.

In a sea of lukewarm remakes that dilute the effectiveness of their respective originals just to satisfy money hungry execs grubbing around in the PG-13 sandpit in the hopes of a few extra dollars, this movie is a breath of fresh air. It’s a strong 18 certificate complete with practical effects, for the most part. It’s everything that horror fans say that they want, until they get it. The gore is always redder on the other side, I guess.

Evil Dead won’t please everyone; it lacks the kitschy home-assembled charm of the original but if you check your baggage at the box office, you might just be surprised by what you find in those woods.

Rating: 8.5 out of 10 stars

Anyway, this month we’re travelling around the World of Horror to discuss some offerings to the old gods by countries with small but well-formed horror industries. This week takes us to Norway, where we discovered highly-rated slasher flick, Cold Prey, along with a whole heap of unpronounceable names complete.

We also offer short reviews of Dracula 3000, Ginger Snaps 1 & 2, Rob Cordry’s Childrens Hospital, and Nic Cage’s Taken-alike, Stolen. We also posit a potential Freddy vs Jason sequel with some unexpected horror characters.

Get in touch:
podcast@gorepress.com / (001) 425-606-5512 / facebook.com/gorecast / @gorecastx

And subscribe in iTunes!

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To round out our theme, we take a lengthy look at Kathryn Bigelow’s Near Dark. A 1987 vampire movie with real bite and loads to explore both sub-textually and on its surface. Whether it is Near Dark’s depiction of women in the horror genre or its careful use of actors with a shaky grasp on the craft, I think we can all agree that there is plenty to talk about.

Also discussed in this catch-up episode is Wreck-It Ralph and voice acting quibbles, the wonder that is Half-Life 2, Sarah’s opinions of John Dies at the End (again), an in-depth discussion of Dredd and the world of 2000AD, Jamie gives Sarah a reason to watch the Twilight films, along with plenty of other stuff.

Get in touch:
podcast@gorepress.com / (001) 425-606-5512 / facebook.com/gorecast / @gorecastx

And subscribe in iTunes!

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Revelation follows the same retrieval-from-spookytown device of the first; this time it is Daddy Sean Bean who has been whisked away to the eponymous home of so many Hellraiser evictees. Based on the laboured exposition, former resident Sharon/Heather/Whatever has to returned to fulfill the prophecy or something. Mostly, she just wants to rescue her dad and whine about stuff.

The film resembles a video game in more than just aesthetic, connecting horror set-pieces with cut-scene level exposition delivered in a stunted, unnatural manner. All of the main actors – with the exception of Carrie-Anne Moss and Malcolm McDowell- are performing through assumed accents, so that could be a contributor to the awkward positioning of the bulk of Revelation’s dialogue. This seems to be the cause of the rift between character and audience, it’s so difficult to be engaged when the film’s pace is constantly interrupted by affected and unleavened speeches peppered.

It’s difficult to stay angry at Silent Hill: Revelation because of its continued devotion to practical effects. All but one of the major villains are clearly rooted in special make up effects, with minimal assistance from the tech-savvy CG team. Unfortunately, these effects just don’t seem to connect with me. Maybe it’s the CG enhancements or the dirty brown filter that seems to wash over the film whenever something good seems to be starting, but it never quite manages to bridge the chasm left by the characters. The stakes just feel incredibly low.

A visual treat but with little nourishment at its core, Silent Hill: Revelation treads the familiar steps directly into a stylishly creepy but emotionally bereft burg. There is enough flair present for the flick to be enjoyable and jarring in equal measure, but it all feels fairly disposable and will certainly not hold up to repeated viewing.

Rating: 5.5 out of 10 stars

Throughout Women in Horror Recognition Month, sites like ours have spent the last 28 days extolling the virtues of females in various roles within the genre we all share a strong love for. “It’s something that should be all year round” says Hannah Neurotica, the founder of Women in Horror Recognition Month. “My hope over the years is to get everyone to realise that the creative drive of these women is every bit as worthwhile as a man’s and that women should be taken seriously in the film industry in general.”

She’s right. Respecting the creative efforts of a person, regardless of gender or race, should not have to be confined to the shortest month of the year but in the male dominated world of moviemaking, the task of forcing people to look passed their preconceived notions is a long and arduous one. It’s one that starts with a small step.

Hannah Neurotica first took that step in 2009 when she crafted a manifesto in the form of a blog post. This would be the basis of 2010s first official celebration of the underrepresented female working in the horror genre.

“Around the time that Jennifer’s Body came out, I was on a panel with Yuvonka (Vuckovic – Filmmaker and former editor of Rue Morgue) and Aviva Briefel (author of Horror After 9/11) and a few other women. The interviewer was acting like we were a novelty or like we were a small group of weird women who didn’t really represent any kind of population. A lot of focus was on the way we looked.” This is the first time in our discussion that Hannah begins to sound exasperated: “How can people still not know that women love horror films?! As fans, but women also love to make horror films and write scary stories”

It was shortly after that when Hannah decided that something had to be done to address this widespread belittling of women within the culture of horror.

“If people are so shocked by womens’ relationship with horror then there is a lot of education needed, and a lot of women out there who don’t have the support or networks.”

It was incredible how quickly Women in Horror Recognition Month caught on through social networking. It was almost as if an entire generation of web-literate gorehounds were just waiting for the floodgates to open, people were salivating over the idea that for one month at least, they would be celebrated.

In the years since its inception, February has become synonymous with female horror enthusiasts (to the point where I worry that it may be a dumping ground for those who don’t really care about the cause, and just want to ditch all their “chick stuff” in February while living 11 months of guilt free misogyny). Hannah’s plan to unite women passionate about the genre has started to pay dividends. It was through 2010′s Women in Horror month that introduced the movement’s biggest success story, the Soska Twins’ first feature Dead Hooker in a Trunk to a wider audience. You could even suggest that through the championing of these women via the Women in Horror network was just the catalyst the Powers That Be needed to allow the Soskas to apply their own subversive storytelling to altogether more mainstream cinema.

Hannah clearly appreciates the big successes, but she appears altogether more galvanised by the smaller victories: “I have been in touch with a woman in Serbia who was basically saying she was really depressed. There was nothing for women in horror, but also for women being supported in the technical art of filmmaking. When she found Women in Horror, it inspired her to start her own community called Girls Do Horror in Serbia and they had their first big event this Febraury.”

“It’s just like a domino effect, the more we help each other then the more it’s going to bleed over into other forms of industry”

You can hear an edited 29 minute version of the interview here:

But hey! We’re back for another week of Female Director focused shows due to February being Women In Horror Recognition month! This week we take on Mary Lambert’s Pet Sematary, a film that has haunted both Sarah and Jamie since youth… Steven King, Mary Lambert and Herman Munster take you on a trip to a place where bloodied dogs and Achilles tendons are not safe.

Also discussed in this episode; the Beverly Hills Cop franchise, Wreck-it Ralph, which dog language might be scariest, Jamie’s love for Tommy Boy, Sarah’s love for Lawn Dogs, and two of the best recent horror documentaries, Never Sleep Again and More Brains.

Get in touch:
podcast@gorepress.com / (001) 425-606-5512 / facebook.com/gorecast / @gorecastx

And subscribe in iTunes!

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Bonus chat includes the weird faces of Channing Tatum and Joseph Gordon Levitt, Richard Ayoade in Saving Private Ryan 2 and The Watch, the tragic life of Jamie Kennedy, Antiviral, ESPN’s 30 for 30 series, and more!

Get in touch!

podcast@gorepress.com / (001) 425-606-5512 / facebook.com/gorecast / @gorecastx

And subscribe in iTunes!

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We also return to the format we had eschewed during guest picks month to talk about some of the things we have been watching lately. Expect to hear us chat about The Five-Year Engagement, Big Money Rustlas, Superhero Movie, Bad Kids Go To Hell and much more, all interspersed with digressions on Powerman 5000 and Kevin Smith’s new-found writing technique.

As always, you can contact the Gorecastle in several different ways:

podcast@gorepress.com / (001) 425-606-5512 / facebook.com/gorecast / @gorecastx

And subscribe in iTunes!

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The short answer is apparently no.

Starting off with that one fake Skittles advert that went viral a couple of years ago – you know the one with the guy jizzing skittles all over his bride – 30 Nights of Paranormal Activity with the Devil Inside the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is the woefully unfunny story of a family being haunted by a horny ghost and some lazy references to recent successful movies and television.

Packed tightly with “oh look it’s that person” style comedy intermingled with extended fart jokes, even concepts that should be funny fall completely flat in the context of this movie. For instance, writing the sentence “Donald Trump sharting his pants” brings a sort of wry smile to my face. Sure, it’s not Oscar Wilde but it has its place. Within this film, it’s just not funny. Same goes for the constant barrage of “celebrity” faces. I just fail to see the comedy in it. Oh, Adele isn’t thin, is that funny? Bane was hard to understand in the non-IMAX version of The Dark Knight Rises? Well done for pointing that out, movie, I don’t think anyone else noticed. Paula Deen? Just the mere mention of her name is supposed to illicit some sort of mirthful reaction. It’s comedy for the TMZ generation. Maybe the folks who troll paparazzi sites for nip slips and close-ups of cellulite might find this sort of thing funny but I definitely don’t.

Some of the examination and spoofing of genre conventions – particularly those in the current crop of found footage flicks – are entirely spot on. Unfortunately, it’s nothing that any fan of the movies being lampooned haven’t already discussed and derived their own private humour from. Why do people insist on continuing to film these events? Insert your own joke here, I guarantee it will be at least as funny as anything in this movie.

My biggest bone of contention with 30 Nights of Paranormal Activity with the Devil Inside the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is that a sizable chunk of the supposed humour comes from very unfunny places. I counted at least three jokes specifically about date rape, three moments where a big fart was the punchline, and also some very dubious attitudes to female sexuality. Sometimes comedy comes from the breaking of taboos. That doesn’t mean that jokes about overtly gay Latino housekeepers are inherently hilarious, no matter how many Abe Lincoln: Vampire Hunters they rape.

There might well be an audience out there for 30 Nights of Paranormal Activity with the Devil Inside the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. There could be thousands of hungry spoof fans waiting to catch a glimpse of someone dressed as a celebrity whilst a fart noise plays over the soundtrack. I’m more inclined to believe that this is bottom-of-the-bargain-bucket fayre with very little to redeem it.

Rating: 2 out of 10 stars

Chop is neither a Troma movie or Deadgirl. It fits somewhere in between. A stylish gore comedy with brains (and body parts) to spare. It has a strong throwback vibe without being as crass or opportunistic as some of the recent crop of grindhouse-inspired flicks. If this is designed as a throwback, it harkens back to a simpler time of independent movies: The 90s. While watching Chop, I couldn’t help thinking that if this was made in the middle of the 90s low budget boom, an alternative 2013 would have Trent Haaga helming some big budget superhero tentpoles. And let’s be honest, we all want to see what happens when you give the guy who wrote the Diaper Mafia scene of Citizen Toxie the keys to Stan’s creations. It could still happen, those movies are going to flop and reboot for infinity. I think I might have digressed somewhat.

After his car breaks down, Lance hitches a ride from a stranger. Before he knows what’s happening, he is being forced to kill his half-brother with an axe. Plunged into a world of revenge where his limbs and loved ones are dropping like flies, Lance needs to figure out who the stranger is in order to save his own life. Chop plays with conventions we’ve become accustomed to through the Saw movies and other flicks of late, while all the time having a slightly sadistic smirk on its face. Tonally, it has a lot in common with Some Guy Who Kills People. Their sense of humour is very similar, while their methods are not. Chop is very much more openly comic, with a keen eye on verbal slapstick. The comedy comes from a much darker place too and it is all the better for it.

Troma fans might be interested in knowing that Chop is a reunion of Terror Firmer’s warring heroes Jerry (Trent Haaga) and Casey, although there isn’t much of Casey in Keenan’s performance here. Lance starts the movie appearing likable, but becomes increasingly shady as the running time ticks on. What is interesting to note is how great his comic timing and delivery is. Despite putting in a showy performance, some of the dialogue delivery just feels very earthy and real – while also being incredibly funny. Timothy Muskatell doesn’t come off well in the tussle. Forced to perform next to Keenan, he does his very best and sometimes breaks through but for the most part seems like he is in over his head. That is a common side-effect of playing roles with this level on enthusiasm, if one actor is better at it then the others can just end up looking amateurish. A more seasoned director might have looked for smaller performances from the two leads but let’s face it; Haaga wasn’t looking to make a Coen Brothers film. Chop is clearly made for the express purpose of some laughs, some blood and smiles all round. It definitely succeeds.

Chop gets its UK release in March through Grimm Entertainment.

Rating: 8 out of 10 stars

We also chatted about Rob Zombie’s cinematic output, John Carpenter’s Vampires, mumblecore, and loads more. With some Arrow Video worship thrown in just for fun.

You can familiarise yourself with Colin’s output by heading over to ZombieHamster.com or by picking up copies of Diabolique, Shock Horror or Scream Magazine. You can follow him on twitter @zombiehamster.

You can contact the Gorecastle:

podcast@gorepress.com / (001) 425-606-5512 / facebook.com/gorecast / @gorecastx

And subscribe in iTunes!

J&S

From what I gather, Manborg was shot in a garage with a green screen and an ass-ton of ingenuity. Utilising the core members of the Astron-6 team, along with some other folks drafted in to make up the numbers, Steve Kostanski has crafted a wonderfully on-point love letter to the excesses of 80s sci-fi. Using Neil Marshall’s Doomsday approach, he picks and chooses his favourite moments from classic robo-actioners and skewers it with a brilliant off-kilter sense of humour. The casual viewers will recognise not-so-subtle riffs on the Star Wars franchise, Robocop, Universal Soldier, and The Terminator, while the more genre-savvy might see hints towards films like Riki-Oh, Cyborg and Shockwaves. There’s a heap of referential glee to be found in this flick, so I’m not going to spoil it here.

The plot follows a group of captives forced to band together with the aid of a cybernetically altered soldier built to fight an army of demons, lead by Count Draculon, that have escaped from Hell and wiped out most of the world’s population. Forced into gladiatorial battles by an emotionally awkward demonic gaoler known as The Baron, Manborg must learn how to use his new arsenal of built-in weaponry in order to rid the world of the scourge of Draculon and his minions. Writing that felt awesome.

Sure, the setting looks cheap, the robo-attachments are clearly bits of household junk painted and re-purposed, the CGI is equivalent to an N64 game, and bad dubbing fills this movie throughout, but does any of that matter? No, because the sheer amount of self-awareness possessed by the film and its makers means that you have no idea where the joke ends and the problems making a film for $1000 begin. Everything that Kostanski and company do appears so incredibly deliberate, meaning it is practically impossible to find any fault in this movie. This is the testament of the Manborg – There is nothing about it that doesn’t look like it isn’t crap on purpose.

If you have an aversion to trash cinema, you might want to keep on walking. However those of you who are like me and chomp greedily on Filipino or Turkish knock-offs and bad 80s sci-fi will find Manborg hilariously endearing. Or endearingly hilarious.

It’s just made with such an earnest sense of fun and affection for the genres and films that it so accurately spoofs, it’s incredibly difficult not to get entirely swallowed by the charm. At a very quick 60 minutes until the credits roll, it never outstays its welcome. Manborg is tightly constructed as it zips from one set piece to another with only moments to catch your breath in between. The Astron-6 team have done it again – someone powerful needs to take notice and start giving this group of genre-wizards the sort of budgets reserved for uninspired straight-to-video horror sequels.

Manborg is available on UK DVD through Rockstone Pictures from the 4th February.

Rating: 8.5 out of 10 stars

For Jamie’s featured film, he picked Frank Darabont’s The Mist from 2007, full to bursting with CG monsters and worse humans. It divides us, but I think we squeeze a pretty decent discussion out of it. Obviously, there are spoilers galore.

We also press Jamie into discussing Les Miserables, Django Unchained, Rare Exports, CGI vs practical, Freaked and much more!

You can keep up to date with Jamie’s film projects at www.jamhoop.com or fingercuffproductions.co.uk. You can also find him on twitter @FingercuffJAMIE.

Don’t forget, you can get in touch with us:

podcast@gorepress.com / (001) 425-606-5512 / facebook.com/gorecast / @gorecastx

And subscribe in iTunes!

J&S

Kelley’s choice of movie to discuss was the grimy 1972 exploitation horror Last House on Dead End Street, and we sure do dissect the heck out of it. We also take some time to talk about podcasting, writing, porn, e-readers, breasts, the horror community, conventions and so much more.

Y’all should check out Kelley’s book, These Lonely Places is available on Amazon (both UK and US stores) in paperback and for your e-reader. His writing blog is over at rkkombrinck.blogspot.co.uk, and obviously check out Jamie’s favourite podcast the NoTLP.

You can get in touch with us in all of the usual ways:

podcast@gorepress.com / (001) 425-606-5512 / facebook.com/gorecast / @gorecastx

And don’t forget to subscribe in iTunes!

J&S

Kicking off the month, we are delighted to speak with Miguel of the brilliant Monster Island Resort Podcast. What started off as a place for discussion of Kaiju and the like has quickly become one of the best horror based podcasts out there. After featuring Sarah on an episode of his show, we invited him to join us on here. The flick he picked for us to watch was 1981 Italian zombie opus, Burial Ground: The Nights of Terror.

Along with this extended dissection of Italian zombies and terrible dialogue, we also take some time to pick up some podcasting tips and film recommendations from our esteemed guest.

You can find Miguel by heading over to www.monsterislandresort.org, or on twitter @MonsterResort!

And you can get in touch with us:

podcast@gorepress.com / (001) 425-606-5512 / facebook.com/gorecast / @gorecastx

And don’t forget to subscribe in iTunes!

J&S

A few people continued beavering away to varying degrees of success – Dario, I’m looking at you – while others stowed their passion for the genre until film-making became a more accessible field. This is where Adam Chaplin comes in.

I’ve been describing this movie as The Taint meets Riki-Oh. If that is the sort of thing that interests you, then you should love this. It deals in the gore-soaked abandon of ol’ Ricky’s story shot with the budget – and passion – of those wacky Taint guys. The story, such as it is, is just a conduit to demonic uber-violence. Topless hero Adam loses his wife in some sort of ritual murder, so he enlists a devilish entity to help him get his revenge on a guy with a strange mask. By punching through peoples’ heads and such.

Adam Chaplin is definitely the most violent film I have actively enjoyed in a long time, the gleeful tone and thirst for blood make a nice change to the usual oppressive aura surrounding modern grue flicks. The biggest success of this flick is that it made me not care about the excessively CGI gore. I’m not quite sure how they managed this. Perhaps it was the use of practical gore alongside the techy stuff. It could be the fact that the film eschews that live-action feel for a more puppet/videogame aesthetic. Either way, this is the first time that this amount of CG effects hasn’t lifted me out of the experience. And I salute that.

Cribbing heavily from a wide array of blood-soaked Eastern influence, Troma titles and classic Italian horror is what makes this movie feel both fresh and familiar at the same time. The fact that the plot is tracing paper thin doesn’t denigrate the film, it strengthens it. In fact, the movie’s only real issues are when the violence stops and exposition takes over. It could be said that the good folks behind this flick try a bit too hard to give this character, who is essentially anthropomorphous violence, some extraneous pathos. Dude, he just kicked a guy through a wall! I don’t care how sad he is about his wife!

Sure the themes are a bit perfunctory, just hovering there as a vague motivation for more bloodletting. Nobody is watching this film for its depiction of revenge or the journey into the soul of vengeance, despite those being clear themes addressed in this film, albeit superficially. Despite feeling like a student film, or a film made over a summer by some friends, Adam Chaplin does a lot with very little. It’s an easy recommend for those who love their frenzied splatter with reckless abandon.

Rating: 6.5 out of 10 stars

John Dies at the End is the story of two friends thrust into a world of weird creatures and inter-dimensional travel at the mercy of a mild-altering drug known as soy sauce, told through multiple flashbacks by our hero, David. We’ve seen the drop-out hero arc a million times before, but never has it seemed so effortlessly cool as it does here.

Coscarelli merges satire, spoof, and great writing to produce a film that is so much fun that I have to rethink my year end list. John Dies at the End feels like a spiritual successor to Cronenberg’s adaptation of Naked Lunch, and it flaunts that fact. They have more than a few things in common. Both are based on novels that have been described as difficult to commit to film. Both feature cross-dimensional travel through the conduit of hallucinogens. Both have weird bug creatures. Both are fucking awesome. Obviously, the tone is slightly different in Coscarelli’s entry into the drug-bug micro-genre, but you can’t deny the similarities.

Despite it being a bloody, violent affair, I was positively gleeful for the entire running time. Strangely enough, John Dies has the distinct feeling of a first feature from a fresh director, much like Gorepress favourite Detention. I’m attributing this to the fact that Coscarelli appears to be fearless when it comes to tackling classic stories with brilliantly contemporary twists. He did the same with Bubba Ho-Tep. It’s clear he has had some help with this transformation, due to the fact that both of these films are based on acclaimed stories by celebrated authors but there is still a sense that Coscarelli may have been transported somewhere and came back altered somehow.

The performances are wonderfully pitched, with relative unknowns Chase Williamson and Rob Hayes holding their own alongside Oscar nominee, Paul Giamatti, and character actors such as Doug Jones and Clancy Brown. I don’t think I’ve seen Giamatti have this much fun since the 2007 action misfire, Shoot ‘Em Up. The rumour mill has suggested that the Coscarelli and Giamatti had been itching to work together for years, I can only hope that they work together again.

My favourite scene in the movie – the opening gag – may not bear any relation to the following narrative, but it sets the tone wonderfully. Just a simple joke, but one with the punchline completely obscured by the fact that it has no business being in a movie. If you laugh at that gag, you’re in for the long haul. Brilliantly clever and funny writing makes this flick one you just can’t miss. If you like horror with its tongue in its cheek and its eye on the classics, you should watch this immediately. The soy sauce chose me, and it will choose you too.

See. This. Movie.

Rating: 8 out of 10 stars