forgetableness is its own fault rather than mine although for horror fans who
can tolerate shitting terrible acting, it does have some decent practical effects when people start getting murderkilled.
You know how people
who were witnesses to significant historical events 'break their silence for
the first time about that day' forty years on, or some such stuff?
Well, it's all
bollocks, don't believe a word they say. I watched this film last week and had
to look it up on two websites before I remembered what happened in it, and my
memory's still a bit patchy.
I suppose you could
say that when 8yr old Billy Applefarm saw JFK get shot in Texas it might've
created more of a mental impression than a man in his forties indifferently
watching a generic horror film, but shut-up and who cares.
The original Purge
was a good idea for a film. If it was made thirty-five years ago by John
Carpenter in his prime, it would've been fantastic. Think of Escape From New
York and you'll probably see why I suggest Carpenter would have fit so well.
Sadly, as it was made
in modern times, the initially thrilling concept of a single day of the year
when all acts are decriminalised, was run through the idiot filters and the
three purge films have shit into the cinemas to the delight of cretins.
That said, I've watched
all three and this one was probably the most entertaining.
I've waffled on about the films of Andrew Jones on here before. The lack of budget and hurried production splits through the seams of everything he's done so far, however, I like his stuff. It has a cheery spirit, make-do attitude and sense of fun that films with 1000 times the budget could learn a lot from.
I mean it's total bumwash, but, well, isn't everything?
This is (I think) the third film that the Robert The Doll, er, 'character' has featured in. Robert is like an evil ventriloquists assistant. Think of Keith Harris being directed by William Friedkin:
Half way through something started to trouble me about this and every other possessed toy film I've seen, so I took to Twitter and asked the chap responsible, rather pleasingly, he replied:
Well, Mr Jones, if you read this, ensure that there's a wood chipper churning away beneath the window. Y'know, just to make sure.
Anyway, if you've seen any of young Jones' other films, you'll probably know what to expect. Special mention for both Clare Gollop's amusing dialogue delivery and (the extremely attractive) Tiffany Ceri's credible performance.
In a film about a murderous doll. So, like, don't go in expecting some shit with Ralph Fiennes poncing on about Shakespeare and all that.
I wanted to see this
when it came out but I was busy at the time not existing for another few
Some young lady meets
a fellow at the zoo. From what I can tell, about ten minutes after this first
chance meeting, they get married.
However, like all
marriages, there's problems. The main one being that the woman is worried she
will turn into a panther and kill the husband if he tries to give her one.
Something about her people from the old country being cursed to turn into big
cats and kill people when they're sexually aroused.
Leaving aside the
question of how it would be tricky to pass the curse down to the next
generation, it would be something of a barrier to marital relations.
Anyway, the husband,
quite fairly, suspects the Mrs might be a bit wonky in the head and thinks
'Fuck this nutbag, I'm gonna shack up with the nice lady from work.'
Although it turns out
she's half pigeon.
For most of it's
running time this is a very tame horror film, even by the standards of the
'40s, however the two 'stalking' scenes near the end of the film are very
effective, reminded me of the underground scene in An American Werewolf in
London which is one of the best scenes in any horror film ever, and 74 years
ago people probably shit themselves during those bits.
frightful! I can't bear to watch!"
me, Miriam! I've just Adolf Shitler'd meself. Be a dear and pass my
"May I have a water?"
"Water? Fuck off, love. This is 1942, it's vodka."
Everyone in this photo is dead.
Have a good Wednesday.
Look at my chips!
Careful, you'll have someone's eye out. Etc.
The war years were very austere. This was from the most popular
pornographic magazine of the era, 'Reader's Chores'.
"Phat blunt, yo."
"Aye. nine inches on the flop apparently. Mind you, I wouldn't believe a word that Amos says."
This film really,
really tries to be more important, more of an 'event' than it is. The idea is
good, a sorta future western where the scarcity of water has turned much of the
world into a near-lawless desert where people try and farm the small remaining
patches of fertile land and protect them from outlaws or profiteering banks and
Much of the
technology from before the fall remains, cars, robot mules, televison and
suchlike, but they're all dusty and fading reminders of when the world was a
greener place, with little or no contemporary production occurring. A bit like
That sense of dry,
rusty, industrial/civil decline is done well, not overstated, believable.
However, the plot is obvious, the acting very, very 'actorly' and the sense of
smug psuedo-profundity is a fucking arseache. The end of the film is almost
weeping at its own brilliance and trying to insist that we have just witnessed
something very important.
Rather than a average
film about very dry people living somewhere that looks like the Jawa planet in
Here's a venn diagram
for anyone making a film about working class criminals in Britain:
That took me about
ten minutes to make at work yesterday, about the same amount of time it took to
write the script for this film. Definitely the worst I've found the stamina to
I don't like slating
a film that was so obviously made for peanuts, so if you're in the mood to
watch something that feeds into the Murdochian demonisation of the poor whilst
claiming to be a voice in their corner, then this will fill the time.
In between the nine
other films he appeared in that week, Joel Edgerton wrote and directed this film
about two former school classmates meeting by chance and a strange sorta
friendship developing between them. It turns out there's a little history that one of 'em remembers a little better than the other.