Filmmaker Adam Green (the director playing himself) receives a letter and package from former police detective William Dekker, claiming that monsters are real and that he knows the way in to their world (the titular Marrow). Intrigued and excited by the prospect, Green and his cameraman Will Barrett (also playing himself) work with Dekker (Ray Wise, the only actor playing a distinctly fictional role) to document his claims and prove there is an entire world beneath our feet.

The strength of a film like this lies in the surprise. Are monsters real? What is Dekker trying to show Green and Barrett? What will it look like? When will it happen? Going in as spoiler free to this film as possible greatly enhances the viewing experience. Off the bat, owing to artist Alex Pardee‘s involvement, people will know they are going to see something, but the questions will remain; in what context? Is it real or all a trick?

The thing about Digging Up The Marrow that will catch people off guard is that in many ways, it is actually a comedy. Almost from the outset, we are treated to the sarcastic friend-banter between Green and Barrett, who provide a realistic portrayal of people who know each other so well that they communicate in offhandness. The only standard horror trope character is Ray Wise’s Dekker, who could almost have wandered out of the fog warning the townspeople of the coming danger. Realistic reactions to an almost absurd character are what sell the film. We, the audience, are giving sideways glances along with Green and Barrett as Dekker lays out the plan for seeing the monsters.

It’s this surprise level of realistic humour that lends the film the power to truly shock when things kick in to gear. The proof of a good horror lies in if the audience can use the characters as avatars for themselves, relating to the emotions and agreeing with the decisions, even in fantastical situations, or going against this and risking alienating or even insulting the audience. Marrow is firmly in the former camp. We jump when the characters jump, and let out embarrassing screams just as they do (well, some of us do, at least). The film doesn’t build a tense atmosphere, relying more on jump scares and shock moments hidden in the frame. Fun is one of the most optimal words to use to describe Digging Up The Marrow. Though there is danger, the film never crosses over into nasty territory, a breath of fresh air among some of the heavier cinematic fare at the moment.

Without seeing the film, it might seem a misstep to have Ray Wise playing an entirely fictional character among all these ‘real’ characters, but his performance is scene-stealing. Ray Wise is always Ray Wise, but when his Dekker struggles with his own demons, there is no more perfect fit. You forget he is Ray Wise the actor, and believe he is William Dekker. There are also numerous cameos throughout, sure to raise a cheer or smile with any audience, again building this realistic world.

A major strength to the film is that people completely unfamiliar with Green will find the film as accessible as those who know his work. In fact, there are times when those familiar with Green’s Holliston sitcom may confuse the characters, and on occasion, in this realistic world, there is some less than natural humour (the over the top cutaways to Green during the first major interview with Wise stand out), but these are minor quibbles. Digging Up The Marrow plays best with a crowd, feeding off each other’s anticipation in the screening, and coming away from it, I was compelled to immediately see it again, and to share it with others.

Digging Up The Marrow stands as a testament to just how good the fake documentary style can be. It almost feels insulting to use the words fake documentary to describe it. It could more accurately be called a horror for the masses.

Whether or not the monsters ARE real, you will have to see for yourself.

Rating: 9 out of 10 stars

Going right back to the early days of video, when it was a big deal to be able to watch a film again and again at your convenience, Rewind This! charts the introduction of tape to the household, the format wars between VHS and Betamax (for you young ones, that’s like Blu-Ray versus HD-DVD), the rise and fall of the format’s popularity, the mom and pop stores that sold it, and the underground culture that still yearns for their thrills on magnetic tape.

Watching Rewind This!, the first thing that becomes evident is that it is not a documentary that takes itself too seriously. Unlike a lot of documentaries on specialist topics that have a tendency to romanticise the subject and get muddled under their own grandiose, no one here is denying just how awful tape was, and there is no argument that if given the choice, cassettes will be tossed aside in favour of a better format.

Instead, the film looks at the impact the format had on the collectors, who explain they are more interested in the oddities that only exist on VHS, that have not (and may never) make their way to more advanced formats, such as the cast of Friends, in character, instructing people how to use Microsoft Windows 95, or some of the most bizarre cover art to ever grace shop shelves (stemming from low budget companies’ attempts to draw in customers with glaring visuals). We also meet several reformed bootleggers who now work legitimately selling films for a living, and everyone fondly remembers watching rented tapes, knowing a good moment was about to come when the tape started to deteriorate, as previous renters had rewound and reviewed the sections of the film many times.

There are also interviews a plenty with filmmakers (maybe something to do with John Carpenter exec producing?) such as Full Moon Entertainment’s Charles Band, Lloyd Kaufman, Basket Case director Frank Henenlotter and Jason ‘Hobo With A Shotgun’ Eisener, reminiscing about the home video revolution and how low budget filmmakers were able to take advantage of a new market and find success. Filmmaker Roy Frumkes gives an amusing counter-point that he thinks direct-to-video was an affront to proper films.

The entire documentary has a nostalgic and touching feel, with human and amusing moments throughout, such as one man’s search in a middle-America flea market for some obscure, eye-catching video titles and instead continuously coming across copies of Titanic, or the insanity that is David ‘The Rock’ Nelson, considered a modern day Ed Wood, spouting encouraging words for would-be filmmakers with ADD frenzy. The hi-jinks take a decidedly dark turn that will put some viewers off when it looks at one of the biggest aspects of home video; the porno. Though pixelated, you are treated to some hardcore action that comes from leftfield in an otherwise light-hearted and engaging documentary. Coupled with a segment with an older gentleman who makes a living over-charging people for VHS, this is as close to the seedy underbelly of the bygone format as we get, and it will leave a nasty aftertaste after you have watched the documentary.

Even with a running time of 94 minutes, Rewind This! feels a bit bloated in places and though full of laughs throughout, lags considerably from the porn section onwards. There is a wealth of information, but it does fall in to the same pattern, leaving a viewer with a sense of déjà vu. Even with this, it can be argued that this is the definitive documentary on the VHS format.

Not reading like a love-letter, but more like a former lover remembering both the good and bad times and moving on, Rewind This! should tickle the fancy of anyone wanting as peep behind the curtain of obscure and bizarre home releases, to a different age when anything could be possible.

Rating: 7 out of 10 stars

Cannibal Holocaust (1980) follows American anthropologist Harold Monroe (Robert Kerman) as he leads an expedition deep into the depths of the Amazon rainforest to try find out what happened to a group of documentary filmmakers who have gone missing. The expedition encounters primitive cannibal tribes and, upon finding out the missing group are, in fact, dead, bring the filmmakers’ final film canisters back to New York. With TV executives in tow, Professor Monroe watches the footage back, where the filmmakers are shown to be far less civilised than they portrayed themselves to be, and when they push the Amazon natives to the brink, the natives push back

A film of two very distinct halves, the first section of the Cannibal Holocaust plays out like a standard cinematic film, then switches gears to beat up 16mm from the filmmakers’ cameras, trying to separate movie violence from actual violence and laying the groundwork for pretty much every nausea-inducing shaky cam film in the decades to follow. Director Deodato claims the film was made as a retort to graphic images he saw his son was witnessing on the news regularly and, adopting a Mondo Cane approach (a fancy phrase for filming animal deaths), Cannibal Holocaust makes its point in as brutal a way as possible.

Yes, there is real violence to animals in this film, and yes, it is horribly disturbing. Monkeys, pigs, snakes, even giant turtles, all suffer pointless deaths in a horrible display of shock and exploitation. And then there is the sexual violence. Oh boy, is there sexual violence. In one of the more graphic acts, a woman is raped and genitally mutilated by a ball of clay covered in nails. The gore and violence of the film almost seems tame in comparison to everything else, but even then, it will push seasoned gore hounds. With a name like Cannibal Holocaust, you have to know what you’re getting in for, and if you are looking for the red stuff, this film delivers by the boat full. Slicing, dicing, circumcising, all convincingly on show here. The film has a reputation, and it is full deserving of it. It breaks taboos that no one needs broken, and for a film criticising exploitation, it’s funny how readily it runs that gauntlet itself.

That said, Cannibal Holocaust lands its message home effectively. It eschews the preconceived notions of a cannibal to turn everything on its head and expose the underbelly of the ‘civilised’ world and its quest for sensational TV. The animal violence is arguably unforgivable (incidentally, there is a director-approved animal cruelty free version. Well, almost cruelty free), but the rest of the film has a dedicated point and is enticing all the way to the finish. The film moves along steadily, no filler, nothing trying to draw out its 96 minute run time. Most significantly, unlike a lot of other exploitation films from this period, Holocaust doesn’t come off as nasty. In fact, it almost always feels like it wishes it wasn’t showing you these disturbing visuals. There is a definite car-crash mentality to it. You just can’t look away, waiting for the next grotesque moment to rear its head.

A lot does have to be said for the grainy and gritty asthetic of the film, making it feel like that odd bit of film you found in your grandparents wardrobe (note: if you value your sanity, never watched said wardrobe video). It is easy to immerse yourself in the film and get swept up in everything on screen, as the characters might. Everything feels in place and part of a whole, leaving you with a fulfilling, if overwhelming and disheartening, experience.

Now, the film does have its drawbacks. A substantial portion is dubbed (as most old Italian films are), barely hiding some ropey performances, and boy howdy are some people very disco-looking. It’s funny, the film straddles a line between being cheesy and being a reflection of its time all the way through the film. For example, Riz Ortolani’s score should make you giggle, but its synth sound incomprehensibly compliments the jungle scenery and violent acts with a bit of tragedy. On the flip side, porn star Kerman’s moustache will have you in stitches.

Cannibal Holocaust lives up to its notoriety. A lot of people will watch it and say it’s no big shakes, but those people either have a screw loose or are lying. Make no mistake, this is no party film. It is powerful, moving you, hurting you, making you think. It’s ok to let it do its job. You should feel a bit wrong watching the film. The point is to ask yourself the question, as Professor Monroe does, ‘I wonder who the real cannibals are?’

Ok, that line is stupid.

Rating: 10 out of 10 stars

This is a tough film to write about without spoiling the only redeemable part of the film, so I will start off positive by saying that there is quite a nice pay off that at least leaves you feeling somewhat satisfied with the film. Aside from this clever(ish) ending, there is little left to enjoy. The film is mean spirited to the bone, seemingly genuinely devised to cash in on the ‘torture porn’ buzz and the success of the Hostel and Saw films. What those films have that this film lacks is a sense of story, whether it be satirical in the former or moral questioning in the latter.

In The Tortured, what you get is what is described above; a couple kidnap their son’s killer and torture him. That is it. Sure, there are some arbitrary side plots and a few by-the-numbers inconveniences thrown in the mix, but nothing you couldn’t predict from a mile off.

The film is very shallow, genuinely existing because it thinks so little of the blood-and-guts crowd that they will soak up any old drivel given to them, as long as it is covered in enough of the red stuff. No, it just doesn’t work. There are fantastically fun bloody films out there, like Braindead or Dawn of the Dead, and there are nasty torture films out there, like the Guinea Pig or Faces of Death series. The Tortured stumbles on the line between the two extremes. It is a tough watch but at the same time, it is a slick production. It’s hard to tell if it wants to repulse you or to sell popcorn, though the latter seems like a safer bet.

It’s hard to tell why such proper actors are in this thing (which really should never have risen above micro-budget rough indie level), but they are. Christensen and Metcalfe give decent performances, but there just isn’t enough to hold your attention for the full 79 minute run time. The big shocker here is just how subdued Moseley is, but by the end of the film, you get the impression he wasn’t exactly involved for the love of it.

Director Robert Lieberman comes from a predominantly TV background, and writer Marek Posival has no other writing credits bar a short, so it is difficult to tell who is responsible for the uneven nature of the film. The story that should be compelling and gut-wrenching (in an emotional way), but the drama is constantly underwritten by violence and predictable plotting.

People talk about Human Centipede 2 being gratuitous violence, but I think that only gets the short end of the stick because it goes the whole nine yards. I’d argue that The Tortured is a far more deprived film, not because it is more graphically violent (though it definitely is more violent than your average horror flick), but because its intent is so heartless. Look at a brutal film like Martyrs, which walks all sorts of lines, but ultimately has a purpose, whereas this film pretends it has a purpose so it can drunkenly swagger over into ‘hey man, isn’t this sick?’ territory. People talk about sequels and remakes being done for a quick buck, but right here is the ultimate ill-informed cash-in.

The Tortured is technically competent and acted appropriately, and maybe some people will enjoy its shamelessly exploitative ways, but be warned, there is no slapstick fun or moral weight here, but a total vacuum where the film thinks it’s cleverer than it is. Don’t let it fool you. It isn’t that smart. It solely exists to try squeeze another few bucks out of the gore crowd. Do yourself a favour, skip this and go watch Saw part 52 instead.

Rating: 3 out of 10 stars

Why am I so pessimistic? Well, just a couple of weeks before finding out about the remake, I happened to test drive the original (trying to scratch an Asian horror itch). The film starts out with an awful lot of promise, being about a cursed apartment where everyone who lives there is haunted and dies (typically by nose-diving from the window on the 13th floor). The bulk of the story follows a girl who moves into the apartment to clear out her deceased sister’s belongings after she fell victim to the spooky goings on, flashing back to what happened when she killed herself in front of a group of guests, and the search for the sinister origins. Not exactly originality to write home about, but enough to have great potential creep factor.

That’s why it is so disappointing at how quickly the film sinks under its own silliness. Every Asian horror cliché is on show here, from the creepy little girl to the long black haired ghost. In fact, the whole thing boils down to a Ju-On: The Grudge inferior knock-off, which isn’t too shocking, since it is based on a novel by the same author. The problem with the film is that, even way back when in 2007, we were all growing so tired of the typical J-horror tropes that set us on edge the years previous with The Ring and The Grudge films.

There has been plenty of academic writing on Western audiences being scared of the nihilism or outright inescapableness of their scenarios (in Asian cinema, if you are cursed, you are cursed, whereas Western mythology traditionally gives a redemption option), and it is only normal that there is only so far that plot thread can be taken before an audience tires of the genre.

It is with this in mind that Apartment 1303 is a potentially great film lost to the popular plot of the day, with tension and scares being paint by numbers, and twists being surprising only in that you didn’t think the film would actually be so stereotypical (though I do absolutely love J-horror’s unwavering casualness to subject large groups of people seeing supernatural events happen, as if ghosts are as normal as watching someone get hit by a bus). I actually gave the film a lot of leeway, hoping the ending might bring things all together in a not-so-expected way, but instead I was treated to a stupidly laughable, disastrous FX-filled finale (and let’s not even start on the bad-hair day puns) that will only leave you screaming ‘STOP BEING SO PREDICTABLE!’. Heck, it made Mama’s final act look impressive by comparison.

The remake came out in Russia at the end of last year and is preparing to come out in the US and UK in the next few months direct to DVD or VOD. The initial US trailer is horrendously laughable, but it seems like a very early rough reel trailer, as opposed to this new one, which is slicker, and seems to promise a lot more, but if you have seen the original, you know the trailer is really only focusing on one section of the film, and it isn’t the section that made the original Apartment 1303 fall down flat on its face.

Chop this one up to minor thrills only worth catching if it’s on TV.

Rating: 4 out of 10 stars

A claustrophobic horror mainly set in one apartment and an adjoining tunnel, it follows Callie, a recovering drug addict, who returns to stay with her pregnant sister Tricia, who is in the process of declaring her husband dead in absentia (TITLE WARNING!) after he inexplicably went missing seven years ago. Trying to move on with her life, Tricia is haunted by visions of her dead husband, while Callie is drawn to the tunnel and the odd occurrences that seem tied to it. It quickly becomes clear that Tricia’s missing husband and the mysterious tunnel may be linked in ominous ways.

The film is low budget, has no name actors in leading roles, and leaves an awful lot to the imagination – and it’s all to its benefit. Director Mike Flanagan has carved out a fantastically tense piece that is more in tune with the likes of The Shining or Jacob’s Ladder, eschewing the current trends of ‘more is more’, and instead lets the audience fill in the blanks in their heads. Keeping the action to relatively few locations, it makes everything intimately familiar very fast, and had me feeling like I was trapped by some invisible boundaries that were closing in more and more as the film went on.

No one here is underwritten. We watch these characters be real people in an unreal situation, which is refreshing after so many horrors with characters that being called 2D would be generous. Katie Parker and Courtney Bell give remarkable performances as the two sisters, and Guillermo del Toro regular Doug Jones has a small role as someone returning from the netherworld of the tunnel. The weak links are the male leads of Dave Levine as Tricia’s detective boyfriend, and Morgan Peter Brown as her husband Daniel, showing some amateur acting chops, but thankfully they are not poor enough to take away from the story. I even found Levine to be the character I most latched on to in terms of sympathy.

Hey, if a film with some dodgy acting can still enthrall me, it must being doing something right.

Being shot digitally, the aesthetic of Absentia takes a little bit of getting used to, and straddles the line between gorgeous cinematography to home-video level, but in general, the film knows its restraints and plays them to its strength. There is a beautiful score running under the whole thing, and a minimalist feel to the proceedings that forces you to pay attention to the detail, instead of overwhelming the eye with jumps everywhere. Speaking of jumps, there are a few, but not enough to even consider it a party film. No, this is more of an individual experience, placing you in the characters shoes as they realistically battle an unfathomable force.

It’s a shame Absentia isn’t more known. It garnered lots of buzz on the festival circuit, but now that it has hit home video, with its awful standard cover art, it is being sold short. Hopefully word of mouth can continue for the low-budgeter and it will hit a resurgence and get to be a cult classic, because it deserves it. There is a lot of unintelligible tripe out there trying to slip under the radar under the guise of ‘indie horror’, hoping people will excuse a lot of problems with the films because of this. Absentia, with a modest shooting budget of about 25 grand, shows that budget is no excuse for a poor film. If there were more films like Absentia, the horror world would be a better place.

Not a perfect film, but a mighty worthwhile one.

Rating: 8 out of 10 stars