The Frightfest all-nighter at the ICA last weekend was a huge laugh, and if some of the films were a bit on the lame side, one at least was very worthwhile.
My capsule reviews of each, in order of reverse order of suckiness:
5) Re-Cycle: the Pang Brothers watch Mirrormask and decide that pretty looking incomprehensible fantasy about the blurring between the real and the fictional world is a good idea. Muddled, disjointed, syrupy, maudlin, dull. It was saddled with the worst subtitling I’ve seen in a long while, that kept switching the sex of a fairly pivotal character. Although I had to smile at the writer’s report of a mysterious vortex in the alley behind her building. “The sucking force accumulates.” How very true. Everyone caught a nap while this was on.
4) Gone: Working Title move into the horror field, and come up with a thick slice of bland cheese on white bread, no crusts. Two British backpackers meed up with an American guy, who may not be what he seeeeems. Except he is, and is so unrelentingly creepy throughout that you wonder why any sane person would come within 50 yards of him, let alone drive across the Northern Territories in his skanky old van. The first half hour is effectively a promo for the Australian Tourist Board. Not much of anything, really.
3) Heartstopper: A serial killer comes back from the dead to hunt teens in an abandoned hospital. Directed by Bob Keen, the FX guru, so the goop quotient is high, but everything else is horror by numbers. The script is absolute bobbins, the acting not much better. Robert Englund’s in it. Once he gets killed you may as well not bother. (oh, sorry. SPOILER. Don’t read the previous sentence.)
2) The Raven: a reissue of Roger Corman’s 1954 horror comedy. Vincent Price, Peter Lorre, Boris Karloff and Jack Nicholson chew up the cheapo scenery on a bizarre little number exceedingly loosely based on the Edgar Allen Poe story. More charm, invention and bad jokes than any of the other three films put together.
1) The Chumscrubber: Not really a horror film, first of all. It’s been described as kind of like Donnie Darko. My feeling is more American Beauty, or maybe Brick. It’s a tale of dislocation, paranioa and psychosis in the American suburbs. The hugely impressive cast, including Ralph Fiennes, Glenn Close, Alison Janney and William Fichtner largely play caricatures. It’s down to the kids, Camilla Bella and notably Jamie Bell to pull out the realism and give this tale of a kidnapping gone wrong some heart and guts. Chumscrubber contained the one moment that made a room full of hardened horror fans cry out in disgust, which has to be a good thing. This was a last minute replacement for Turistas (Hostel in Brazil, pretty much). It’s a brave choice, and an absolute corker.
Recommendations when stumbling out of a central London cinema at quarter to eight on a Sunday morning – the Stockpot on Panton Street. A decent sized breakfast for under a fiver. And the look on the manager’s face when the living dead came stumbling through his door was just priceless.
In NaNoWriMo news: ticking away quite nicely, and just barely on schedule, although a weekend hammering away on the laptop couldn’t hurt the wordcount. Clicking on the participant logo in the sidebar will take you to my profile page (I’m calling myself Conojito online at the mo, don’t ask why, it’s a dull and pathetic story) where you can read the prologue and the first couple of chapters. You should notice a word count widget underneath that logo, so you too can keep track of my lousy progress! 23 days to go. Speaking of which, I’m out of here. I should be novelling.
EXCUSES AND HALF TRUTHS 