Black Death is a surprisingly cerebral film, with deliberate parallels to modern day fundamentalism and the folly of religious fervor, belief and ignorance. It is smartly done and does not compromise the story in order to become a “message movie”, only towards the end becoming more obvious – yet this is compelling and necessary, truly delving into the nature of religious extremism.

Led by the zealous Ulric (Sean Bean), the small group of battle-hardened men and a monk enter the village expecting chaos and horrors, but find a quiet little place untouched by the violence of the outside world. Led by Hob (Tim McInnerny) and suspected necromancer Langiva (Carice van Houten), the village welcomes them, but the outsiders quickly realise something isn’t right in this ungodly slice of heaven…

Christopher Smith has made a hit-and-miss collection of horror films over the past decade, with Creep, Severance and Triangle preceding this one. Black Death is more hit than miss, but it is definitely not without its faults.

Much like Severance, Smith focuses on a group of mismatched individuals, thrown into a situation they do not fully understand. Where many directors would ignore these peripheral characters until their obligatory death scenes, Smith gives these individuals actual character, and from the hard-bitten soldier to the expert torturer they all have their own voice. Andy Nyman, John Lynch and film newcomer Jamie Ballard all stand out as compelling characters. Actors such as Kimberley Nixon and David Warner also manage to shine with very little screen time, with Nixon able to make a very believable love interest you actually care for, despite barely being in the film. Kudos also goes to writer Dario Poloni, who is responsible for the hugely underrated Wilderness (2006), proving his ability to create a collection of believable characters was not a one off.

Where the minor roles expand the film and make it whole, the central performances are a solid backbone to the piece, both compelling and believable. Eddie Redmayne as the young monk Osmund is especially excellent, giving a very realistic vulnerable performance, which bounces effortlessly off the bitter, gritty characters that surround him. Even McInnerny as the town leader does very well in a serious role, constantly hiding a sense of sinister malcontent under his welcoming smile. Sean Bean and Carice van Houten perform adeptly in their roles too, not really being given much scope to expand their characters beyond the boundaries of the script – their zealous oppositional beliefs necessarily restraining them throughout. It does not make them 2D, but means they are impossible to change, and therefore totally inflexible and utterly believable.

Although the acting, story and character work is excellent, sadly the pacing is noticeably inconsistent throughout. It jumps from slow, cerebral chatting about religion and the nature of evil to insanely kinetic fights where faces are bashed in and necks are sliced clean open. Oddly too, the violence is less explicit than expected – with torture, nasty skirmishes and plague-riddled corpses not really making a huge impact as we’re only given small glimpses of them. The ending is especially disappointing, regarding the unseen fate of Tim McInnerny, and it simply fails to satisfy.

There is also a needless epilogue that feels tacked on and awkward. Although Smith may feel this is necessary in order to expand his allegory for the idiots in the cheap seats, it feels undisciplined and adds nothing to the film, just an extra stab of brutal nihilism for the audience to take home and chew on.

Black Death is a decent, deftly made film. Not violent or scary enough to be a horror, but not deep enough to be a dark drama, it sits uncomfortably in an unclear genre that is creepy, occasionally violent, oddly paced and containing an underlying message about the dangers of fundamentalism and religious fanaticism. Well acted, compelling, but flawed in places – this is an enjoyable piece of work and well worth your attention.

Rating: 7 out of 10 stars

For every great Hills Have Eyes remake there’s a diabolical Halloween re-imagining, for every explosive Dawn of the Dead reboot there’s a throwaway Last House on the Left redo, and for every decent Texas Chainsaw Massacre re-creation there’s a dull Nightmare on Elm Street re-envisaging. More prone to utter cinematic failure, the horror remake wagon takes another hefty blow, producing an incredibly poor remake of a film that spawned seven sequels, a television series and even a video game. The 2010 version will only spawn a shameless pot of cashing-in money and a lot of disappointment.

Perhaps disappointment is the wrong word to describe a re-imagining of such a classic horror film. The expectations were not high – they rarely are for remakes, as the motive for re-creating them always seems suspicious. If it truly is to bring a quality idea to a modern audience, then the modern audience clearly likes heaps and heaps of rubbish.

For those who’ve seen the original, the remake’s plot is exactly the same. For those who haven’t, here’s the plot – the children of Elm Street (and beyond) are having nightmares. Each one features a man in a striped vest, a bladed glove and a horribly burnt face – a face hidden deep in their past and returning to haunt them. But not just haunt them – to kill them. This is Freddy Krueger – horror’s nightmare man. Possessing the power to murder his victims in their sleep, the remaining teenagers of Elm Street must fight sleep deprivation to discover who this mystery assailant is, and how to stop him.

During the film we’re informed that after 72 hours without sleep you experience micro-naps, which makes things even harder for the unfortunate teens. Well, after 72 minutes of watching the A Nightmare on Elm Street remake you’ll be lucky if you’re not in a coma.

This remake / re-imagining / cash-cow forgoes any elements of tension and replaces it with short bursts of uninspired, epileptic violence, even daring to take classics scenes from the original and ruin them entirely. The memorable death of Nancy’s friend, which had her dragged slowly up a wall and across the ceiling, has been replaced with a woman-shaped pinball being confusingly slammed around the walls before being sliced open. It’s swift, dull and baffling – something the film is drowning in.

Our protagonists are Nancy Holbrook and Quentin Smith, who’re played with little lovability by Rooney Mara and Kyle Gallner. They bumble through the forgettable script, jumping from brief set-piece to brief set-piece, never really compelling the viewer to watch them or, unfortunately, care about them in any way. But this is an A Nightmare on Elm Street film and, as the latter films shamelessly admitted, it’s all about Freddy! Sadly, in this recent case, Freddy fails to excite.

Mumbling like a drunken Jimmy Stewart impressionist, the mask-burdened Jackie Earle Hayley creates a Freddy that is neither scary nor funny. He just exists, waltzing through the film with a careless gait that neither screams aggression nor quiet rage – more a shruggable ambivalence to the death he’s destined to deal.

Not everything about this remake is terrible, however. The inclusion of Clancy Brown is always welcome, although he is hugely characterless, and some of the production designs are fantastically well crafted, being simultaneously beautiful and dangerous. One or two moments may also impress – a video diary of one of Freddy’s victims is surprisingly effective. Yet the majority of the scares are weak, the script is utterly pedestrian and the homage moments are embarrassing in their total ineptitude. The inevitable “final scare” is so badly constructed it leaves a horrible taste of excruciating disappointment floating in your mouth. What could have rebooted a tired franchise has simply reinforced our fears about remaking horror classics.

A Nightmare on Elm Street 2010 is incredibly poor. It is needless and pointless, and a waste of a decent idea that could’ve been done in a terrifying and modern way. It is a cowardly remake that fails to scare, excite or interest. If Freddy does exist, don’t see this film or you’ll be dead in seconds – boring and unoriginal. Avoid.

Rating: 4 out of 10 stars

It’s 117 A.D. and Roman soldier Quintas Dias (Michael Fassbender) is having a bad week. Having been attacked and tortured by the native Picts in the North of England, he escapes and finds himself teamed up with a mute Pict assassin Etain (Olga Kurylenko) and the entirety of the Ninth Legion. They head back into Pict country to destroy the Pict leader Gorlacon. Those familiar with the mysterious fate of the Ninth Legion will know this doesn’t go particularly well, and Dias soon finds himself battling for survival in a harsh, alien territory, all the while being hunted by the Pict’s most deadly assassin.

If this sounds fun, then you’re right. Centurion is very watchable, especially if you like your historical action flicks, and especially if you don’t mind a bit of blood. Centurion is brutal. Skin slicing, child killing, head chopping, eye stabbing – it’s got it all. This is no surprise coming from Neil Marshall, and it’s baffling how it was only released as a fifteen certificate in the UK.

The acting is fantastic throughout, with some brilliant performances from an ensemble cast of British actors. There are elements of the soldiery camaraderie that made Dog Soldiers so watchable and, despite the surprising lack of Marshall veteran Sean Pertwee, the ranks of the Ninth are bolstered by the recognizable likes of Dominic West, Liam Cunningham, David Morrissey, Noel Clarke and Riz Ahmed. Cunningham and Morrissey especially shine as Brick and Bothos, adding slightly more sympathetic characters to the otherwise hard-to-like Roman soldiers.

This, however, is one of the major problems with Centurion. The characters. Not the dialogue, not the acting, not even the actual characterization, but what they represent. It’s very hard to feel any sympathy for any of them. The Roman’s are the unlawful invaders, the rapists, the pillagers, the sadistic bastards who killed farmers and families, whereas the Picts are the former farmers, who are now barbaric, vicious killing machines who fight dishonorably and take pleasure in lopping off a man’s head. Really slowly. Perhaps this is Marshall’s message – another war-on-terror parallel that teaches us violence always begets violence, and in the end war can only bring a perpetual hell-ride of misery and pain. And confusion.

The plotting is very undisciplined, something that seriously flawed Marshall’s previous work Doomsday. Whereas his first two films Dog Soldiers and the Descent had very solid, rigidly formatted plots that worked perfectly, Doomsday and Centurion lack flow and direction. Even after Quintus Dias is attacked and captured and escapes and returns with the Ninth, he then escapes a massacre and goes on a rescue mission… and there’s still more after that! It’s winding and uncertain, and Marshall even throws in a love interest three-quarters of the way through, which is as unnecessary as it is baffling.

Many of the surprises are distinctly unsurprising, bludgeoning the screen with clichés, and a lot of the plotting is convenient, leaving you feeling like Marshall had too much of a free reign on this project. Not as much as Doomsday, presumably, as Centurion certainly isn’t as completely scattershot as that, but it certainly lacks discipline. Some of the direction is also too frenetic to fully understand what is actually happening, and the battle of the Ninth Legion is shockingly short. Although this could never be as epic as Gladiator due to budgetary constraints, there are moments in which the build up never really reaches it’s potential.

Centurion is unmet potential. It is brutal, well acted and watchable. It is also confused, more than a little winding and surprisingly cliché-ticking. Enjoyable if you like Romans and buckets of blood, sadly passable for anyone else.

Rating: 6 out of 10 stars