The Seventh Victim

Val Lewton’s 40s genre productions have become much more renowned thanks to Warner putting together their fabulous DVD collection of his work quite a few years ago now. But long before that his pictures for RKO studios were considered quite special, formulating as they did quite chilling little tales of the morbid without resorting to overt manifestations of the supernatural. This was always a pleasing contrast to the output of Universal and helped to push forward the idea that the genre didn’t really need inhuman monsters to succeed critically and commercially. In fact their conception was partly the result of the failure of the mighty Orson Welles productions so we could say we have Citizen Kane to thank, as if its legacy hasn’t snowballed enough. The Seventh Victim begins with young college student Mary being called up to be informed that her Manhattan-based sister, Jacqueline, is no longer paying her tuition fees. In fact nobody can seem to get in touch with Jacqueline so Mary packs up and heads off to the great city of NY to find out what’s happened to her older sibling. First stopping off at the restaurant once owned by Jacqueline, Mary finds out she was seen at a local boarding house and goes off to enquire. There it seems the missing woman has hired a room - seemingly not to stay in, rather it’s there as some sort of haven for a potential suicide that forces Mary to realise her sister‘s situation is much more sinister than the innocent youngster‘s mind would like to have contemplated. She comes into contact with the man who loves Jacqueline and with the help of a private investigator (who is soon murdered for his curiosity) they delve deeper into a plot that leads to a satanic cult that has drawn Jacqueline into their macabre world.

A very noir-esque atmosphere is established once Mary arrives at the city: shadowy streets, darkly lit corridors, harsh contrasts (cinematographer Nicholas Musuraca was clearly an expert technician and artist) - it’s an ideal world to conceal the goings-on of a group of devil-worshipping people. In fact the cult reminds me of the sinister neighbours that later turned up in Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby, and are quite a creepy bunch considering this was the forties. Mary (Kim Hunter’s feature debut, amazingly the same woman who went on to play Zira in the first three Ape movies) is lovely and innocent, making her treacherous journey a tad more engaging as she stumbles into a threatening city that could almost consume her, though it seems as though something is watching over her shoulder as more harm comes to those around her than to Mary herself. An interesting moral seems to have been wound into the narrative that makes itself apparent by the end, and one which possibly reflected the way Val Lewton pondered upon his own existence (a cardiac illness was making itself known at the time, this eventually leading to a premature demise): humans may at some point, or with eventual inevitability, come to question whether they wish to continue living and both angles are represented by two characters. Jacqueline herself (resembling Uma Thurman in Pulp Fiction) evidently possesses a fixation with her own death, perhaps fantasizing about suicide itself until it becomes an on-going obsession, whilst crossing her path is a woman who is terminally ill but would prefer to avoid death - one person is living but wants to die, the other is dying but wants to live. Indeed the opening statement of the film (about running to death but death meeting one just as fast) suggests to me that the story is ultimately an exploration of man’s relationship with death, something which underpins all of horror in some ways. This gives what once began as B movie material (in fact, just a title really) a certain degree of greater depth than what might have been anticipated by the funding studio (the last thing they wanted was conceptual depth after Orson Welles had drained them of cash). Along the way we come across a number of smartly thought-out sequences; Mary and the PI standing at the end of a dark corridor, both afraid to advance before she persuades him to effectively walk to his doom, Mary’s subway ride where three ‘drunks’ stumble on to the train only for the hat to fall from the one being carried revealing him to be the very PI that was murdered earlier - his body obviously in the process of being disposed of, and not least the shower scene that surely must have influenced Hitchcock years later, such is its similarity to Psycho's most famous murder sequence. The Seventh Victim is a movie than can be appreciated by both fans of the macabre and noir alike.

Warner’s 1.33:1 black & white transfer was exemplary given the movie’s 1943 period of creation, and it came accompanied with a highly informative 53 minute documentary on producer Val Lewton. Perhaps some of the interviewees (the likes of William Friedkin, Joe Dante, etc.) go a little overboard in their praise, as is often the case with back-slapping Americans, but appreciation for Lewton will certainly flourish as a result of viewing this comprehensive piece. There’s also a feature commentary from historian Steve Haberman that is sometimes a little quickly spoken, though this also means that there’s a large amount of information and considered opinions divulged. He discusses an omitted subplot concerning Tom Conway’s character as well as the critical and commercial response to the film following initial release, among many other things. One thing Haberman drew my eye to during listening to the commentary was the point when Mary is offered the bad news by the school’s headmistress - watch her silent assistant who is staring at Mary throughout the dialogue, it’s a pretty creepy image as she continuously looks Mary up and down in far too suggestive a manner. The region 1 disc could be picked up as part of the superb boxed set that came with Lewton’s other RKO genre productions - note, a later release of this also includes a Martin Scorsese documentary as an additional bonus.

Voices From Beyond

One of Lucio Fulci's very last efforts, this one reflects an undeniable decline that had occurred in his directorial work from around the mid eighties onwards.  Shot in 1990/1 for Executive Cine TV from one of Fulci's own stories, Voices From Beyond (or Voci dal Profondo / Voices From The Deep to take its original title) is a mystery horror tale about a rich man whose premature death leaves his spirit lingering around while his body rots.  Due to supernatural laws unknown his daughter has the same amount of time it will take his corpse to completely decompose in order to discover who was responsible for his death, and there are a number of suitable suspects, from a mistress to an estranged wife, all of whom were treated badly by the old man.  Feeling quite padded at just over ninety minutes there are nevertheless a number of points that will interest fans of the macabre and Lucio Fulci in particular.  Having acquainted himself with heavy gore towards the end of the seventies, Fulci appeared to feel obliged to wander down the same path in virtually every venture since, and Voices... is no exception - there's a gruesome autopsy scene, plenty of shots of the rotting body beneath the ground (covered in maggots, 'natch), and even the stabbing of a young boy!  There is also a fair bit of nudity for the body-conscious amongst you.  The dream sequences are adeptly executed, generally providing the film with most of its horror content (in fact, without them it would be significantly less interesting I think).  No doubt the best of these is where one character wanders through a claustrophobic morgue consisting of increasingly closed-in walls, before the tombs break open at the hands of the living dead.  Stelvio Cipriani's music is very good in places (Fulci had a knack for embellishing his films with excellent scores), while the hazy cinematography elicits a dreamy feel.  My personal favourite sequence is the funeral of the old man, where his enemies drop wreaths on the coffin one by one as they re-live some of the terrible memories they have of him, all backed by grooving beat.

I did have this on video cassette a long time ago and it was difficult to appreciate the film's strengths on such a medium - needless to say it eventually ended up in a car-boot sale.  Not well touched on DVD anywhere, Code Red announced a while back a US release of a newly scanned transfer on both DVD and Blu-ray!  This has finally come to fruition after what seems like quite a long wait.  The (very) old EC DVD was severely limited in terms of translating the soft-focus image to standard definition (albeit in widescreen), with an equally limited mono audio track (English language).  I haven't seen Code Red's DVD, and don't intend to, but their Blu-ray is an attractive option.  Similarly presented in widescreen - full HD at 24 frames per second - the colours are very strong, grain is present, and detail enhanced.  The relaxed focus of much of the source (surely an artistic choice, given the ghostly nature of the story?) is evident of course, but the film here looks possibly as vivid as we will ever see it - especially some of the harder-focussed exterior shots.  The Dolby TrueHD-encoded audio (still in English, and as atrociously dubbed as ever - I know of nothing that provides an Italian audio option unfortunately and am unsure if such a track even exists) is stronger than before, with the music finally given chance to be assessed with some clarity.  Oddly, there is no menu on the disc - the film starts immediately upon entry, and ceases after the credits on your player's own menu.  There are, however, ten chapter stops, but nothing in way of chapter naming.  Neither are there any extras, but really, who is going to track down ageing participants for a lower-key movie such as this?  Limited to 1000 at the time of writing, and available only direct through Code Red (see my links/escape routes above) this Blu-ray is, despite the film's shortcomings and the discs lack of bonus material, the best way to experience the film and a desirable collector's item for fans of Lucio Fulci.

The Wolfman

Responding to the unexpected disappearance of his brother, stage actor Lawrence Talbot returns from America to (Victorian) England to pay familial respects and find out what happened. At the old family estate Lawrence is reunited with his apathetic father, both of them still haunted by the horrible suicide of their mother/wife when Lawrence was a toddler. After Lawrence befriends his brother’s fiancée in the woe of their mutual concern, he heads out one night (against his father’s ominous advice) to a passing gypsy camp to investigate an amulet that may have some relevance to his brother’s case. His enquiries are suddenly cut short when the camp is attacked by a swift and indiscriminate beast - panicking victims are torn apart amidst spiralling chaos prompting Talbot to pull out his rifle to take pot shots at the creature. Getting a little too ambitious for his own good he’s attacked himself, saved from a near fatal wound by another armed man, and a subsequent amateur operation to seal the torn flesh. Recovering at the estate from the attack, Lawrence attracts the somewhat hostile attention of the local police inspector, but this is the least of his problems when it becomes apparent at the next full moon that he has become infected by a werewolf, himself now a carrier of the curse.

Taking many elements of the screenplay of Universal’s classic 1941 monster movie The Wolf Man and mirroring them fairly respectfully, this remake injects a dose of contemporary violence and shock cutting to bring it in line with the expectations common in today’s audiences. However, to suggest those are the only elements that make this worth watching is something of an injustice. The film doesn’t exactly appeal to the most commercial of sensibilities: firstly, it is largely a slow moving exploration of the denizens of an almost fairy tale world, with sombre pacing periodically punctuated by brutal and quite exciting action. And secondly, the design of the titular creature is something of a throwback to an era I had long considered dead - quite brave and at odds with the genre’s cinematic context of today. In fact, the creature isn’t too far removed from that of the original film, aside from the much needed enhancements to special effects, make-up, and its ability to stride at a much greater speed (thereby multiplying its threat tenfold). Taking up the reins of the consistently forlorn Lawrence Talbot is Benicio Del Toro: apart from possessing a melancholy appearance surprisingly akin to that of Lon Chaney Jnr. (the star of the 1941 movie), the actor brings a distinctive quality to the role, maintaining an air of solemn believability throughout and contributing quite skilfully to the tragic nature of the character - he demonstrates an amazing look and presence. One cannot help but feel a twinge of disturbed sorrow during his utterly miserable incarceration and torture at the asylum following his arrest (don’t fret too much - this act concludes with a beautiful payoff!). Strong acting remains a staple of the production for its duration, a particular favourite performance of mine arriving in the form of persistently odd Hugo Weaving as the sharp minded inspector. All of this brings verisimilitude to the more complex (than the original) characterisations and relationships established throughout the story, and whilst it is overall quite faithful to its source there are one or two twists along the way to keep things interesting for fans such as myself who know the original movie reasonably well. And enormous appreciation must go to werewolf aficionado Rick Baker and the special effects team (CGI or otherwise) for creating what must be amongst the most effective transformation sequences either side of the perennially stunning experience that is An American Werewolf in London.

The strong gothic backdrop to the scenario is embellished by delightfully crafted compositions of near achromatic cinematography, something I wouldn’t have anticipated from a director as seemingly nondescript as Johnston. The cinema screening I originally attended was unforgivably marred by a slight but perceivable out-of-focus projection, a factor that thankfully does not afflict the Blu-ray, which (containing both the theatrical and extended cuts) presents the film in full HD at 1.85:1 with a lovely artistic image and noticeable (on a very large screen) grain retention.  The DTS-HD MA audio track particularly shines with the deep and emphatic orchestral arrangements, giving you an appropriately cinematic experience if you have surround kit.  The steelbook, which I acquired soon after its release, is very attractive, albeit plain on the inside.  The Wolfman was unfortunately plagued by a troubled production so it’s pleasing to find a gloomy, morbid, violent, and bewilderingly traditional horror story that may not please those accustomed to more conventional modern cinema but will tap some of the right nerves for a few.

Stagefright

Originating from a background where he was surrounded by creativity it’s perhaps no accident that Michele Soavi wound up in constructing images himself of some kind - early on as a painter but after developing an interest in cinema he moved on to acting and, later still, assistant directing. It was from many of cinema’s veterans that he learnt most of his behind-the-camera skills, people like Dario Argento, Aristide Massaccesi, Lamberto Bava, and even Terry Gilliam. His own directorial debut came together, therefore, quite late in his career. Owning it on Avatar’s video cassette for a few years I once thought Stagefright (sometimes known as Aquarius or Deliria) was a fairly average slasher, but at the time I was a lot less informed and less educated in the darker genres than I am nowadays. Viewing it now is a different matter. It outlines a simple scenario but one that’s nonetheless powerful in many respects: a theatre director who’s obsessed with extracting the best performances from his actors is selfish in the extreme, displaying little or no concern for the welfare of the people if the production is suffering. Alicia, one of his leading ladies, damages her leg in rehearsal and she heads out the back door to seek some medical advice at the first place she and her friend come across - a psychiatric hospital. Whilst obtaining a personal touch from one of the doctors there the two girls don’t realise that one of the inmates has overcome a guard in his escape, only to hitch an unexpected lift back to the theatre with them. Going back to the car in the storm Alicia’s friend is butchered by the lunatic before he apparently disappears. The body is found (pick axe nicely implanted through her gaping mouth) before the police show up to investigate and subsequently keep watch. Spotting an opportunity for some media attention the director decides to rename the killer in his play after the lunatic who’s responsible for the real-life murder, and persuading his actors that it will be beneficial to their career he gets one of the girls to lock the door and hide the key. Of course the killer hasn’t disappeared but rather hidden himself inside the place and the only person who knows where the key is quickly becomes the second victim: now they’re all trapped in there and the killer has free pickings of the bunch while a rain storm rages on outside.

The premise itself is exciting - a group of people locked in an inescapable building with a stealthy and insane murderer, and it’s largely on that that the success of the film rests. The opening of the film once comprised my principle memory from the video days and it’s surely one of the corniest openings in cinema history, and not a good advertisement for what’s to come or what Soavi is really capable of. Having been cut in the UK (by the original distributor I believe) the film in its uncensored form is also much more violent than I was previously aware of, some of the attacks almost inducing a wince in more mature viewers. The movie doesn’t follow all of the conventions of giallo but there’s enough there to consider classifying the film as such, although we don’t delve too much into the history of the killer or why his mind is so irreversibly twisted, the explanation of which usually constitutes a giallo’s final act. It might be more accurate to describe the result as a slasher movie, though the two sub-genres have always been close cousins in reality anyway - one a more psychodynamic, stylistic precursor to the other. Soavi does go unnecessarily overboard during the film’s final ten minutes or so, including a pretty silly final shot, otherwise aside from that and the embarrassing opening there’s a lot of material here that would highlight Soavi as the new talent to watch in Italian splatter at the time. He later compounded this auspicious promise with The Church, The Sect, and Dellamorte Dellamore, but would subsequently all but recede from the eyes of the fans. Utilising his acting abilities briefly, he also makes an appearance as one of the police officers in Stagefright; Soavi was a recognisable face in Italian genre movies. The score itself really picks up the pace of some of the chase sequences, however Demons fans might notice a remarkable similarity to the second instalment of Lamberto’s franchise - that’s because composer Simon Boswell was the primary driving force behind both soundtracks. The Stagefright score is not a direct rip-off from Demons 2 but the style is unmistakably the work of the same man. Boswell has since proved himself to be a highly prolific and talented artist, later enhancing many films through his music compositions, for example Shallow Grave and Dust Devil. John Morghen fans will be pleased to know he appears in Stagefright as an amusing stereotype gay - plus he’s brutally murdered yet again, as in just about any of his genre appearances - City of the Living Dead’s drill through the brain anyone? For a thrill trip through homicidal violence and cat/mouse chase sequences this film should provide a good evening’s worth of mayhem.

In the UK the first home video release came from Avatar and was superseded ten years or so afterwards by an uncut tape from Redemption. I believe Vipco may have got their dirty hands on distribution rights some time later too. Released on DVD by Anchor Bay in the US several years later, this Blue Underground edition is basically a direct port of the AB disc, offering a very average picture that lacks real depth and detail. Colours are a little wayward and overall the presentation could and should have been improved for this (admittedly cheap) re-release, so I’m a little disappointed by BU’s laziness. The Dolby EX track has some bite but keeps most of the activity down the front - there’s less to complain about here than with the image although I‘d really like to hear an Italian language track at some point, if possible. There was an EC disc (presented open-matte with a theatrical matte viewing option available) released just prior to the first AB outing - it’s difficult to get a hold of nowadays anyway so the BU is currently the easiest way to check the film out.

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre

Tobe Hooper’s original Texas Chain Saw Massacre had a seriously problematic history in Britain, it’s no secret, and it’s this BBFC-induced reputation that’s helped to tarnish fair opinion of it in many ways: commonly acknowledged as a ‘banned’ film it immediately attracted a certain kind of film fan (and I was that kind for a while), interested in gore and that which is forbidden. There wasn’t too much gore in the film; on the contrary there was hardly any, but one walked away with the impression it was much bloodier than was truthfully the case. Eventually it received a legitimate release in Britain and suddenly attracted another kind of viewer: the average Joe who’s heard about the controversy and wonders what all the fuss is about. Placing a metaphoric ten foot barrier in front of themselves while watching they invariably walked away without having flinched and thinking there was a big fuss for nothing. Unfortunately people’s self-erected barriers these days are so impenetrable it’s almost impossible to shock, plus the controversy itself overshadows the quality of the 1974 film and suddenly a notorious classic becomes a forgotten relic. Fuss aside, the original film is one of my favourites and something that I connect with on a level that’s difficult to describe to those blinded by surrounding politics and expectations, but I’m not particularly concerned because I can always go back and enjoy that amazing piece of cinema. So why remake such a revered (in some quarters) and overwhelmingly known film? Perhaps it was a drive to redress the balance and shock those who are otherwise unshockable. Perhaps the idea was to make a seventies low budget horror accessible to those who can’t sit through something made before they were born. Or maybe it was just a cynical way of making a few million out of a pre-established franchise. Either way the project was something I avoided like the plague for several years until a friend told me it was actually pretty good and I saw it in Birmingham's Music Zone (now closed) for a few quid on DVD.

For a while it follows a very similar path to Hooper’s film: a group of kids are travelling in a small van (to Mexico) for a road holiday when they pick up a hitchhiker that causes them some concern with visible behavioural difficulties. An isolated house is discovered by a couple of members of the group and it’s found to be populated by a retarded family whose homicidal tendencies are inflicted upon the kids. The narrative quickly begins to deviate slightly from the original’s plot specifics with the hitchhiker they pick up, a girl who blows her own head off in front of them rather than playing Army with a knife (the new film being heavier handed no doubt, reflective of the sledgehammer approach of modern genre films). Beyond that, Marcus Nispel's remake zigzags around the original storyline changing a few details to keep us on our feet whilst effectively remaining a retelling at its core. Initially I thought the kids this time around would be irritable, as they often always are in modern slashers, but once their bubble of optimism is burst by the hitchhiker’s suicide things tense up and they become quite realistic in their responses to their very threatening situations. Or at least as realistic as you can imagine people being when confronted with problems such as this - it’s difficult to predict how people will act of course. The family of creeps is realised effectively, topped by a fantastically sinister turn by Lee Ermey as the sheriff - he’s actually quite restrained compared to appearances in the likes of Full Metal Jacket but he’s so convincingly inhuman in his treatment of the kids you can barely prevent yourself from being glued to the screen. His presence is one of the primary factors contributing to the film’s success. The remainder of the cast are usually functional or above so there are no real complaints; in fact I was surprised by the intensity of Jessica Biel’s effort as the equivalent of Marilyn Burns from the original film - whilst not screaming to the point of excess she conveys a believable torrent of unleashed terror, another key to success in a film such as this it goes without saying. Naturally the make up and special effects are utterly gruesome whilst violence and outright sadism top the original in spades. The flesh-clad Leatherface has been developed visually without betrayal of the source ideas (reportedly derived from the exploits of serial killer Ed Gein) and is all the more enhanced for it, similarly the production design is of a high standard and helps draw you into the nightmare. Overall the visual design has amazing impact - style of cinematography is artistically beautiful despite the nastiness that pervades the screen. A level of tension is reasonably well maintained for much of the running time and the result appears to be far from the gratuitous exercise is pointless ostentatiousness it could have been.  My only complaints really are reserved for the final segment, which push it into contrived territories that are somewhat unnecessary.

Entertainment in Video released this on DVD on behalf of New Line over here in the UK, granting us with a smart extra-packed two disc set too. The anamorphically enhanced, correctly framed image was very good for standard definition, ably backed by strong surround DTS and Dolby Digital audio tracks.  I've since picked up the Blu-ray, which improves on the DVD in several key areas.  The visual transfer is immaculate, embellishing the gorgeous colour schemes of the film which mostly consist of green and brown palettes, and containing mountains of detail.  I would suggest the colour is more accurately rendered on the Blu-ray, whilst definition is moderately superior.  Pleasingly, grain levels are intact on the Blu, allowing you to experience a cinematic feel with this disc.  The Blu also runs at the correct speed of 25 frames per second (as opposed to the PAL-sped-up 24 of the DVD), and receives a bump in sound quality via DTS HD Master Audio.  The ratio is 1.78:1 (DVD is 1.85:1), though via direct comparison it looked to me like the frame had been opened up slightly at the top/bottom, rather than being cropped slightly at the sides.  It doesn't especially make a noticeable difference (though EIV could do with swotting up on their ratios - both the DVD and Blu state 2.35:1 on the rear of the box).  A great set for a remake that’s not destined for the dustbin, or at least it shouldn’t be.

Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde

Adopting a virtually identical plot to the 1931 version (review here) there are a few differences in the 1941 remake that are worth noting. Spencer Tracy's Hyde bears a more realistic appearance and comes across as a much calmer but calculating individual, speaking in a lower rasp than Frederic March’s raging animal. There’s a long, philosophically engaging conversation over dinner early on where upper-class friends discuss the ethics and validity of Jekyll’s theories (these were outlined in a university lecture in the Mamoulian film) and the film is less daring in a number of ways despite being made a decade later. Whilst it’s clear that Jekyll’s unsatisfied libido plays a large part in his motivation there is less emphasis on the sexuality that otherwise reveals itself to the doctor and viewers throughout (though the hallucination sequences touch on it in a fetishistic manner with Jekyll whipping horses that reveal themselves in a subsequent shot to be the two women in his life: village tart, Ivy, and Jekyll's fiancée, Beatrix). While I very much admire a large portion of Ingrid Bergman’s film acting I think her casting (the role specifically requested by her) was a small mistake - Ivy does come across as a little corny and her odd Swedish-Cockney accent just doesn’t work. Saying that, she does manage to convey dramatic feelings of fear as Hyde’s sadistic hold over her strengthens.

Hyde’s make-up is better but special effects had hardly progressed since the early thirties and the transformation itself is actually less impressive (on several occasions the 1931 film made innovative use of filters to give the doctor’s face the appearance of changing without dissolves or cutting). The movie as a whole comes across as a bigger budget effort, boasting fantastic cinematography, but falls into a shadow when comparing the brutality and sexiness of the 1931 equivalent. It is, however, an accomplished and enjoyable piece.

Packaged with the earlier film the Warner DVD is an excellent buy which you can‘t go far wrong with. 4:3 framed, Black and White picture quality is even better here, featuring remarkably sharp details, near perfect greyscaling and well balanced contrast levels with very little print damage. Sound is as clear as it should be. The only extra for this film is a trailer that’s included on the other side of the disc with the 1931 version.

Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde

Innovative professor of science, Dr Jekyll, theorises that the primordial aggressive elements of a personality can be physically separated (and ultimately eliminated) from the benevolent nature that has superseded it through evolutionary development. On a domestic level he is happily expecting to marry the love of his life but his aspirations (and sexual desires) are thrown into disarray as her father continues to postpone approval of their impending marriage. Immersing himself in his work he decides to test his theories by consuming the chemical formula he has developed that is intended to initiate the separation. It does the trick but not in the way he was hoping: a transformation occurs that gives birth to a manifestation of his darker side. Referring to himself as Mr Hyde, this almost Neanderthal incarnation of his inner being goes about making a general nuisance of himself until he begins to form a relationship of sorts with a prostitute that Jekyll helped out earlier, a situation that the girl is too scared to end or escape from due to the escalating horrific behaviour with which Hyde conducts himself. Not realising that Hyde is the alter-ego of Jekyll she goes to visit the (oblivious?) good doctor for help again, at which point he realises what terror Hyde has caused and promises the traumatised woman that she will never see the monster again, determined himself to now leave alone the potion of his own creation. But Jekyll fails to anticipate that the formula has mixed inextricably with his blood and the transformation is no longer within his control.

This wasn’t the first adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson’s well known novella - following stage interpretations there were a number of cinema versions as far back as 1920 - among them, the John Barrymore vehicle where the star changed into a grimacing monster without makeup, a forty minute film by Louis Mayer, and an unofficial German adaptation (a similar situation to Nosferatu) called Der Janus Kopf. The 1931 movie was the best to date (and possibly the best, period) featuring surprisingly sexual connotations for the period, Ivy the whore being the embodiment of this aspect with perpetually low-cut tops and recurring flesh exposure (even baring 80% of a breast at one point - virtually unheard of in 30s cinema). Jekyll’s science is Freudian in essence - the separation of good from evil is basically a distinction between the id (the primitive aggressive and sexually motivated nature of a being’s driving forces) and the superego (the moral overseer) respectively, though whether that was actually an influence over Stevenson is debatable as Freud was only just forming these theories as the novella was written. There’s plenty of philosophical meat there to think about and the tale itself was highly imaginative given the fact that the text was first published in 1886. With his strange mannerisms Hyde himself may come across as strangely comical on first sight but he quickly proves himself to be a remarkably nasty individual, later on becoming quite sadistic and monstrous (I’m sure he appears to be more animal-like with each transformation throughout the film) - as his relationship with Ivy progresses so does the violence and his visits to her room (the soundtrack usually acquiring foreboding silence) become pretty frightening, accumulating dramatic effect as one empathises with the woman’s increasingly desperate plight (akin to a domestic violence situation I should imagine). There’s an impressive opening sequence where the camera adopts Jekyll’s point of view for several minutes (no mean feat; cameras were cumbersome at the time) as well as technical ingenuity of the (admittedly overused) metamorphoses. A classic of the 30s and very edgy considering the conservative attitudes of the era.

Packaged with the 1941 version of the same story the UK Region 2 Warner disc is excellent value for money. The 1931 film itself, presented 1.33:1 B&W, looks as beautiful as you can expect. Problematic censorship history notwithstanding (footage excised from older films has often been difficult to re-obtain) I also believe that it’s complete at 92 minutes (PAL, running 25 fps) - in British cinemas back in the 30s it only ran for 81 minutes! As a vintage chiller of great worth it’s up there with Universal's Frankenstein and Dracula.

Mountain of the Cannibal God

I wouldn't say I'm especially into the Cannibal sub-genre of movies, mainly put off by the insistence of anyone making them on including genuine animal violence, basically for shock purposes - it was a common staple as anyone knows who's ever seen more than one.  It's a shame because stripping away that aspect sometimes leaves relevant pieces of work I would say, whether it be social commentary of some sort or in many cases just a good adventure story.  Mountain of the Cannibal God (or Prisoner of the Cannibal God as it's sometimes known) begins with a brother and sister duo unsuccessfully going to the authorities for help when the woman's husband never returns from an unauthorised jungle expedition in New Guinea.  They hire someone who knows the region, along with a few native assistants, and head off into the jungle in search of the missing spouse.  Briefly staying mid-trip with a vibrant tribe, their presence brings unwanted attention from masked cannibals sneaking around in the bushes throwing spears at people, and they're forced to quickly head off deeper into the undergrowth towards a mountain that is essentially the place of worship for the primitives, and where the husband has most likely also gone before them.

Produced in 1978 this one was helmed by the unlikely director Sergio Martino, creator of some of the best seventies Gialli, and obviously made to cash in on what was a bit of a money-spinner at the time.  Surprisingly Ursula Andress was drafted in as the lead, even being persuaded to strip off for some of the later sequences.  The opening credits create a sense of trepidation, as plentiful shots of animals going about their ethic-free business create an idea in your mind of what might be to come, while this is underscored by an ominous soundtrack.  As suggested earlier, there is some nasty animal violence for you to fast-forward through, easily the most deplorable level to which any film-maker has ever stooped, and I'm surprised a director of Martino's calibre was sucked into this tradition.  Even preparing yourself for that, there was one sequence involving a pig (not being slaughtered or anything but truly f**ked up nonetheless...) that really astounded me.  Eliminating the animal issues from the occasion what remains ultimately is an adventure story that takes some time to pick up, but becomes fairly epic as the characters take up an increasingly arduous journey across quite a scope of land/water, their numbers dwindling during the odyssey it goes without saying.  Attractively photographed by Giancarlo Ferrando (who had worked with Martino a few times before), and with an emotion-provoking score by Maurizio/Guido De Angelis, Mountain... was from my perspective a number of steps up from the negative reviews I've occasionally seen, though not exactly a roller coaster in terms of excitement.

This review was based on the uncut EC Entertainment DVD.  Despite being over a decade old now it's actually a very strong presentation for standard definition, mastered (as claimed by EC) from negatives in 2002.  The 2.35:1 anamorphic image is consistently pleasing, with digital flaws only really evident on close up inspection or during some of the night-time scenes.  Anchor Bay (and later Blue Underground) released this on DVD also, with similar technical specs but containing improved extras.  It's hard to imagine how it could look any better on DVD than the EC version.  Whilst extras are very thin on the EC disc (basically a couple of trailers and some stills) there is a nice fold-out poster/notes section.

Dredd

Some time in the future the overpopulated world is overrun with crime (hang on, that's happening now!) so the authorities employ specialists, known as judges, to dish out instant punishment for deeds that warrant immediate elimination or imprisonment.  Judge Dredd is called out to the scene of a multiple murder, accompanied by a psychic rookie, and following an arrest at the monolithic tower block housing 75000 people (sounds like one or two places I know around here) the place goes into shutdown - blast shields that seal the entire building in during event of war.  It's sold to the authorities as a drill, to prevent them from coming out to the scene, but it's actually a homicidal ploy for the gangland boss woman who unofficially runs the place to have chance to have her minions assassinate the interfering duo of judges.

Wisely pretending the 1995 adaptation of the 2000A.D. comic story never existed, Dredd confines much of its action to one building (less of an epic scope than the Sylvester Stallone vehicle), albeit one very big building.  It's a violent mix of science fiction technology/weaponry with high octane action, feeling very adult in nature.  The main character (played nicely by Karl Urban of recent Priest and Star Trek fame) is much more faithful to the source creation than Stallone's version, which will surely be pleasing to fans of the comics.  Most importantly, he never takes off his helmet!  Dredd comes across as a combination of Robocop and Christian Bale's Batman (albeit somewhat more credible), thankfully keeping the temptation for wisecracks in check.  For once, unlike some other contemporary action films, the slow motion (extreme slow motion in this case) is contextually justified, simulating as it does the impact of a drug that's being used and distributed by certain antagonists.  It gives rise to some startling visual effects, which complement the striking shooting techniques employed throughout.

The UK Blu-ray (from Entertainment in Video) grants you a full HD 2D or 3D image, which is stunningly sharp even when surveying the distance of a long corridor; the director's overall compositional approach is commendable.  3D really sucks the viewer into this world, and it's this kind of film that makes investing in 3D equipment worthwhile, rather than some of the crap that has been unleashed on the unsuspecting public in the last couple of years. Some of the interview snippets are worth taking a look at for a change, and you can get a glance at just how bulky the 3D cameras really are in use.  Paul Leonard-Morgan's pounding score is implemented well on the lossless soundtrack, and it goes without saying that the dynamic audio of this film will kick your butt through the wall if you have a decent system.  Demonstrating that the cinema-going public have little in way of sense the film flopped (my theory is the lack of super-star names, which really shows how shallow people are when deciding what to see), but it is surprisingly one of the best movies of the last few years - get it on Blu and show the studios that some of us out here have some taste.

Resident Evil: Extinction

The third live-action film in the franchise that may never end begins with Alice seemingly waking up as she did in the first outing, only to be killed by a booby trap.  She turns out to be part of a cloning experiment at the Umbrella Corporation, the real Alice now travelling across country as a simultaneous means of avoiding the plague while searching for answers/solutions.  She hooks up with a travelling team of soldiers and survivors as they work they way across the deserts, finding hope in the idea that a place in Alaska has escaped the plague.

Resident Evil: Extinction feels more solid than its predecessor Apocalypse where the story is being pushed forward in a number of ways, and the script is superior.  Whilst it may still be a case of the desperately surviving characters ambling from place to place, I do quite like the 'adventure' structure of each episode, and Milla Jovovich's Alice is quite an appealing driving force that ties together each instalment.  Freed of the constraints of Racoon City and its immediate underground, the series can now take off across the globe (as indeed it's announced at the beginning of this film that the plague has spread internationally).  Extinction borrows heavily from movies that have gone before it, most notably Day Of The Dead (Romero's masterpiece of mid-eighties downbeat horror rather than the remake, which doesn't exist as far as I'm concerned) - witness the now-slightly-worried authorities living in an isolated base surrounded by thousands of hungry corpses waiting for entry, and their experiments to domesticate the creatures, in particular the Bub-like monster that is shown items with which it has some familiarity, emphatically reminding the viewer of Bub fumbling with a personal stereo and Stephen King novel as he momentarily disregards his hunger for meat.  And then there is the hint of (or homage to?) Hitchcock's The Birds, giving birth to one of the best set pieces of the series when the convoy come under attack from flocks of infected crows.  I found the Clare-led convoy somewhat difficult to digest - the rather attractive blonde doesn't convince as the leader of a small army and I'd suggest that in such circumstances as those depicted by the franchise tribe mentality would overwhelm leading to the likes of Clare being impregnated and/or dead rather than unanimously followed.  Not a nice thought, but then again that premise would not have sunk well with today's PC audience.  I also got the impression that Jovovich's face had been digitally softened during close-ups - rather than making her look 'perfect', it was odd at best and distracting at worst.  Of course I could be wrong but even the other actors, who were almost certainly plastered in some sort of screen make-up, had visible skin pores for crying out loud.  I also felt that Alice's superpowers diminished from the impact on occasions, being difficult to identify with and making her less human in the process.  Aside from those gripes I found Extinction to be the most enjoyable of the series, with plenty of action, a few nice ideas, and an epic, almost spaghetti western kind of scope.

The Blu-ray is the way to see this film: an incredibly colourful and consistently sharp 2.39:1 1080p image (grainy during the darker sequences), aside from Milla's Gaussian-blurred close-ups.  The TrueHD audio track really wallops, with incidental music grabbing you and sound effects exploding from all directions.  Sony's disc is backed up by a large amount of deleted material (why do they script and film this stuff only to ditch it?  If it's not working you'd get the idea during storyboard stage), plus featurettes and commentary.  An exemplary disc pretty much all round.  P.S. What happened to Jill?

Hell's Gate

Made for Italian Television in 1989, Le Porte Dell'inferno is Umberto Lenzi's blast at the 'sub-terra' (as good a term as any IMO) sub-genre, which I would say includes the likes of The Descent parts one and two, and the pretty groovy Alien 2 On Earth as well as more mundane waste such as What Waits Below.  A scientist is attempting to break the record for spending the longest period of time living in caves underground, but when the monitoring team above lose contact with him during a panicked transmission they gear-up and head down into the caves to see what's going on, amazingly taking along a passing pair of eager students who state that they know the catacomb layout (as the caves are supposed to connect up to a nearby monastery ruin and they're into archaeology, etc), plus they happen to be carrying a map with them!  Beneath the surface strange things begin to happen, and it all may be the result of some long dead monks who have taken a particular dislike to any living beings who have strayed into their territory.

Featuring Italian exploitation regular Barbara Cupisti (who played in most of Michele Soavi's 'proper' films as well as Opera after having been one of the butchered victims in New York Ripper) and an intriguing premise, the story has quite a bit of potential, much of which is unfortunately diminshed during the repetitive, cumbersome nature with which the proceedings unfold.  Much of the film depicts the characters running around underground unable to get out, with the occasional death punctuating the hopelessness.  Admittedly there were a couple of scenes that sent a bit of a chill through me, but it's not quite enough to turn this into essential viewing.  Lenzi even attempts to recreate the infamous spider attack sequence from Fulci's The Beyond, with painstakingly anti-climactic results.  Unbelievably the final act even rips off Lenzi's own Nightmare City almost exactly!  A film that could have been quite a nice find ultimately remains nothing more than average.

EC Entertainment's old PAL/region 2 DVD provides a fullframe transfer - I suspect Hell's Gate was lensed on 16mm but can't find anything to back that up.  Whilst not exactly exploding with colour and detail it's certainly watchable.  The only audio track is Italian language, which suits me fine, whereas subtitles are available in either English, Dutch, or French.  The only extra is a Lenzi biography (text-based).  The artwork is also typically misleading (see above...).

Paradise Lost: Tragic Idol

Sometime around Draconian Times (1995) I'm sad to say I pretty much gave up on the almighty British doom institution that is Paradise Lost, having been into their stuff since Gothic.  Unlike just about everybody else I thought the Draconian album was 'okay' rather than show-stopping, although it did sort of stop the show for me and PL.  I did pick up the One Second album and liked it, but Host left me cold and I stopped buying, even despite them wandering back to metal territory years later.  That changed of recent when I heard a track or two from the latest release Tragic Idol, and took the risk in ordering it.  I've listened to it ten or eleven times now (I think that should be the minimum before anybody passes an opinion on an album, unless it's pop and requires no effort whatsoever to love/hate depending on your propensities).  Some say it's the best disc since Draconian Times, well sod that: this is the best disc since Icon!  Starting off with a doomier cut than you might expect from the boys who once became electro, the album picks up pace with the rather good 'Crucify', moving on to a consistently excellent run of tracks from 'Honesty in Death' through to and including 'Worth Fighting For', with the best on the album being 'Theories...', 'In This We Dwell', 'To The Darkness' (complete with a wonderful guitar solo), and the title track itself.  With a heavy guitar sound reminiscent of the Icon/Draconian period (and Nick Holmes vocals similarly following suit) this is really great stuff from one of Britain's most respectable bands.  For the record my preferred album of theirs is Shades of God so you could guess I do favour the heavier material, but as I say I was open minded enough to accept One Second.  With Tragic Idol you can consider me a fan once again.  I picked up the more expensive CD release by the way, which essentially is much flashier packaging, and the one PL fans themselves would want, whereas more casual buyers will go for the cheaper jewel case edition (or download if you have an aversion to dusting).

Touch of Death

Quando Alice Ruppe Lo Pecchio (which translates as When Alice Broke The Mirror rather than Touch of Death as it's better known to English speakers) was made around the same time as Sodoma's Ghost (1988) for the same producers.  It's about a man with serious gambling issues who is compelled to date and murder rich women to fund his downwardly spiralling lifestyle.  It would appear that his mind is losing its stability in the process, as he believes odd things are happening with his own shadows, conversations occur with himself, and most uncannily, people he has killed are indeed found dead - but not where he left them.  Furthermore the police seem to be closing in as clues to his identity materialise on the News with alarming frequency.

As with Sodoma's Ghost Fulci wrote the story and screenplay for this one, though his efforts are more successful here than the dire Naziploitation flick.  Carlo Maria Cordio's score is stronger, though still a tad excessive, and the dialogue appears to be improved (though it's difficult to directly compare due to the fact that I couldn't view Sodoma's Ghost in Italian, as previously mentioned).  There are doses of humour varnished on to the horrors (e.g. the feet of a recently murdered corpse keep popping out of his car boot, until he resorts to chopping them off!) that occasionally function as intended, but what keeps your eyes on the screen is the presence of the downright bizarre.  Every woman he tends to get his mitts on is remarkably ugly, even to the point where one of them has a scarred face that he can barely even look at (and as plain wrong as it is, this scenario actually forces a couple of smiles that you'll be desperately trying to suppress).  Surprisingly the film is incredibly gory (I say surprisingly because I believe it was made for television), one scene early on reminding me of some of the atrocities in Guinea Pig II, which is kind of pleasing given Fulci's history with some of the best gore films to ever come out of Italy, however, special effects man Angelo Mattei is no Gianetto De Rossi.  Having said that the head in an oven is a bit of a show-stopper.  Exploitation regular Zora Kerova (Miss Meathook from Cannibal Ferox) is also present.

The Dutch DVD from EC Entertainment gives us a soft, washed-out fullframe (framed as shot on 16mm) transfer, with optional English or Italian audio tracks.  Thankfully there were English subtitles available, although the Italian track is in quite bad shape (I've heard forties films sounding better than this).  Shriek Show released a DVD a couple of years after this one, looking much the same although featuring a more comprehensive package of extras.  Make no mistake: this is not an excellent film, though I do feel there is enough of the macabre and weird here to save it from the dust-bin (garbage can if you're American).

Sodoma's Ghost

The later eighties would be the beginning of decline in quality for Lucio Fulci's work (some would argue it began earlier with the likes of Murder-Rock but I think there was still some drive in his material at that point personally).  During this period he made a few films for producers Antonio Lucidi and Luigi Nannerini, of which Il Fantasma Di Sodoma (Sodoma's Ghost) is one.  The most idiotic teens you've seen since wandering past a British inner city high school are driving out on holiday and get hopelessly lost, only to come across an old house that was used by the Nazis for the purposes of sexual degradation back in the day.  Finding that it's impossible to escape from the place the dumb teens end up staying a few days, only to be accosted in various ways by the malevolent (but still quite sexually charged) spirits of the long-dead Nazis.

Whilst I've not seen everything that Fulci ever directed I have seen a fair bit of his work, but this is the lowest pile of drivel I've witnessed (he also wrote the story and screenplay for this one) - a sad comedown from the glory days (just a few years before, amazingly) of The Beyond and House By The Cemetery.  I could only view this in English and perhaps the translation/dubbing was flawed, but judging it from this alone the dialogue itself is atrocious, sometimes to amusing effect.  The saving grace of the teens, who generally deserve to be shot on sight, is the presence of one sultry Jessica Moore, who made this after the far more enjoyable Eleven Days, Eleven Nights, and thankfully gets her kit off here too.  In fact there is a very high level of nudity in this film throughout, though even this plus-point can't quite save the film.  Any potential (and there was some in the germ of the idea) is also damaged by Carlo Maria Cordio's incessant and irritating score.  To add final insult to injury is the lame-as-f**k ending, almost suggesting that nobody involved with this production had a modicum of enthusiasm for it.

EC Entertainment released this abortion via region 2 PAL DVD well over ten years ago - the fullframe (as shot) transfer is quite ugly.  Two audio tracks are included - English language and Italian language (the latter being much hissier).  Why did I not watch the film in Italian?  Because, despite what it said on the back of the box, there are no subtitles!  Still, a bad disc serving up a worse film is not the end of humanity.

The Cat Girl

An obscurity made in 1957 by short-lived British production company Insignia Films, The Cat Girl stars the fetchingly prim Barbara Shelley (Dracula Prince of Darkness) in its lead role - this nifty little flick turns out to be almost a sly remake of Jacques Tourneur's much better known forties chiller, The Cat People.  Shelley, her sharp-tongued newly wed husband, and two friends head to a strange mansion after a request from her uncle for her immediate presence.  There she finds that the old man believes himself to be the victim of a curse whereby he virtually enters the body of a leopard each night, sometimes with murderous results.  This curse is said to be passed down to her, much to her alarm, and following one or two deaths she's soon whisked off to a psychiatric hospital so they can attempt to cure the increasingly hysterical woman.  Sort of a film of two halves, where the traditional horror of the first is possibly offset against the then-modern psychological investigative approach of the second.  The mist-bound settings of the mansion are beautifully strong on atmosphere, the script is refreshingly unsympathetic and harsh, while the characters are really a bunch of oddballs in a dream world.  Just as Cat People concluded on an ambiguous note, so does this film, refusing by the conclusion to directly tell the audience whether this was the product of delusion or supernatural occurrence.  I don't believe this has been made available on disc at any point, and was fortunate enough to catch it on a recent satellite broadcast.

A June Night

A June Night was made just prior to Hollywood poaching Ingrid Bergman for its own (and worldwide) consumption.  Entitled Juninatten in its native Sweden the film tells the initially unhappy tale of a wayward woman called Kersten (Bergman) who is shot during a row with her lover (one of many, as is suggested by subtext).  Luckily she survives and it prompts an urge to modify her fortunes: wanting to make a new start she changes her name, moves location, and secures a respectable job in a chemist, but it's not long before the tremors of her old life are beginning to make waves in her new one.  However, tumultuous events may serendipitously hold the key to a door that potentially leads to a happier future for Kersten.

The fairly charming story (punctuated by a little tragedy) is unfolded slowly, with Bergman's character at the centre of most people's attention one way or another, whether she likes it or not.  She causes annoyance in women, because their men lust after her, and she can't help but attract men, usually the unwanted kind.  Bergman herself exudes unparallelled beauty and charisma for the period, granting her character with a level of tortured but warming humanity that makes the film worth seeking out.  The subtitled black and white fullscreen version (as it's meant to be seen) was screened in the late nineties on BBC Television.

They / Cursed - Miramax Blu-ray Double Bill

Firstly, the films: Cursed is a Wes Craven directed, Kevin Williamson written werewolf flick from 2005. It's widely acknowledged that there were significant production issues that may or may not have damaged what Cursed was eventually to become. It's basically about a teen brother/sister duo (the latter being Christina Ricci) who become infected by a werewolf following a road accident. It keeps you awake, but I was fairly disappointed with what the talented Craven/Williamson duo have put together here - it feels like it's desperately trying to be hip in its attempt to do for werewolf films what Scream did for slashers.

I've seen They a few times on DVD and whilst it's easy to dismiss it as a pretty generic contemporary shocker, I do quite like it. Focusing on youngsters who have experienced night terrors (extremely vivid and often violent dreams that can result in somewhat unwanted physical activity) that have left lasting scars, we find that these issues are now manifesting themselves in the characters' adult lives, with fatal outcomes. This results in the appearance of hostile alien-like creatures whose apparent objective is to drag their victims off to some hellish netherworld. Whilst `they' appear to be real, it could be theorised that whenever the characters are witnessing the emergence of these monsters, they're actually experiencing the very night terrors that plagued them as children, i.e. they're still dreaming (an idea supported by the bathroom incident with Julia, where her experiences in the bathroom are followed by her being `woken' by her boyfriend, and Julia not actually remembering entering the bathroom at all). It could also be theorised that the creatures have been given physical birth somehow by the power of these people's dreams. I think that's one of the things I like about the film - it does stimulate some thought, and the atmosphere is often quite subdued and dreamlike.

The first thing to know about the Miramax double bill is that it's locked to region A (i.e. the US standard), so it won't play on most UK machines (unless multi-region capable of course). Both PG-13 rated films (the equivalent of our 12 rating; always undesirable when it comes to 'horror' movies...) are on one disc, though they average around the 90 minute mark each so even with extras it's not a great push for Blu-ray's 50Gb capacity.  Although the packaging states plain old DTS for audio, both films come with DTS-HD MA tracks, either in 2.0 or 5.1 variants. Cursed pleasingly looks and sounds very clean with a very light layer of grain, although it is inexplicably presented in 1.78:1, compromising its OAR of 2.39:1 - if the film had been more important I would have been concerned, but I still find this decision strange.  There are about 25 minutes worth of featurettes as bonus material for Cursed.  I understand that this film has been available in an 'unrated' variety stateside, though having not seen it before I can't comment on differences.

They is thankfully presented in its OAR of 2.39:1, looking quite drab, however, this appearance may be a symptom of the cinematographic approach. I made some direct comparisons to the UK EIV DVD: the Blu-ray runs at the correct speed (24 fps) as opposed to 25 fps on the PAL DVD (running time approximately 90 minutes on Blu, 86 minutes on DVD), it features a slightly meatier lossless audio choice instead of plain old Dolby Digital (again a 2.0 or 5.1 choice) on the DVD, both discs feature an alternate ending as an extra, but the Blu-ray also has some deleted scenes. Also, there is a little extra visual information at the sides of the widescreen image on the Blu-ray. Contrast is higher on the DVD (whether artificially boosted or not I cannot say) but fine detail is noticeably superior on the Blu-ray (to illustrate, the nice overhead shot of Julie walking into the diner to meet with estranged ex: the blinds of the diner window are clearly defined in HD, whereas they're a bit of a blurry mess on the DVD). Aside from the reduced contrast which loses the image some possible vibrancy, the Blu-ray of They is all round an upgrade over DVD.

Attack of the Werewolves

Story is about a writer who heads off to an old family home in a remote village to get on with some work, unaware that the place has been cursed. The villagers have trapped a werewolf in the catacombs beneath and the only known way of breaking the curse is for the creature to eat someone from the bloodline of the family that was the cause of the problem in the first place - the writer! But there's a second curse - if they don't succeed by a certain date then the entire village populace will become afflicted by the werewolf's shadow...

Promoted as a cross between Shaun of the Dead and Wolf Man, AOTW is kind of what the title suggests: a werewolf movie with a strong undercurrent of pretty black humour. It's not a laugh-per-minute as Shaun is, but there are some great jokes in there that help to keep this entertaining. It is pretty talky for the first half hour but I generally think that this approach is preferable to the in-your-face tactic of everything going wrong from the first minute. The werewolves are pretty cool (great on a decent sound system as there is real guttural bass rumble to the growls) and the escalating nature of the problem leads to a well staged showdown. I had quite a good time with this movie.

The UK Blu-ray Disc (from Kaleidoscope Home Entertainment) is fine in terms of presentation of the film itself - the film is much sharper than DVD, with an attractive colour palette in outdoor scenes - full HD of course (2.39:1 ratio). It's a very realistic look with very little grain. The audio is Spanish language only (with very clear English subtitles) - not something that bothers me as I watch a lot of foreign horror films anyway, but some viewers will be put off by the absence of English audio. It's served up in DTS-HD Master Audio format, either 5.1 or stereo. Surprisingly the only extra is a trailer, but menus are easy to use. I'm not sure if all of the discs are packed in the same way but mine came in a nice holographic slipcase - I picked the disc up in HMV. For the strong audio visual presentation I'd recommend the Blu-ray, as it's not exactly expensive.

Dollar

Just a year before Ingrid Bergman broke into Hollywood with their remake of Intermezzo, she was still busy exploring portrayals of various characters within the context of the Swedish film industry.  Dollar was made in 1938 and focuses on the exploits of a group of people, their relationships with spouses (both their own and those attached to the other members of the group...), and ultimately a trip they all take to a ski resort where they argue, cavort, a debate who has paid off the gambling debts of one of their posse.  It's not easy to identify exactly what this film is about as it appears to be heading off in all sorts of directions at times so any enjoyment is really derived from the entanglement of relationships and the bitchy remarks that often emanate from this kerfuffle.  Ingrid plays a cheeky, energetic, teasing coquette with wonderful panache, her behavioural nuances an absolute joy to behold.  The dialogue is mostly Swedish but there is some English usage at various points throughout, and it's quite a treat to see Bergman using some of the latter in her pre-Hollywood days.

As with Walpurgis Night this film featured in a season of Bergman's early Swedish films broadcast on BBC in 1996, many of which I taped.  Dollar looks good in fullscreen B&W, with its original language track intact.  Director Gustaf Molander made a number of films with Ingrid Bergman, including this one, and began a long directorial career in 1920 with Bodakungen (AKA Tyranny of Hate).

Walpurgis Night

Before Ingrid Bergman traversed to Hollywood to make loads of movies that people know her for nowadays, she starred in a few homegrown dramas that are nigh on impossible to see nowadays.  One of these was Valborgsmässoafton or the more pronounceable Walpurgis Night to English speakers.  Devoid of easy categorisation, this 1935 B&W piece doesn't seem to want to pin itself down, with romance, drama, social politics, blackmail and murder all finding their way into the story.  Less interesting scenes of newsroom conversations (primarily about population growth, the diminishing role of love in relationships - all relevant subjects today) make up the backdrop of a story about a man (Lars Hanson) whose marriage is deteriorating, and his blooming affection for the secretary (Bergman).  She has decided that she loves him but is somewhat more determined to keep it a secret given the man's official marital status.  Her father (the editor in the aforementioned newsroom) latches on to what's going on and is not at all happy about, doing whatever he can to prevent a relationship developing.  The irony being that his daughter represents the very things he argues in favour of during the newsroom debates: someone who wants to build a relationship (subsequently producing a child) with the foundation of real love.  An uneven film, Valborgsmässoafton covers many topics that are still valid.  Best aspect, Bergman is a pleasure to watch, and it's quite beautiful to see her speaking her native tongue.

Thankfully I taped this on BBC Television in the 90s during the only broadcast that I knew of, and have kept the tape to this day.  Fullscreen of course, as shot, it plays in Swedish with English subtitles.  It's a shame that Criterion, Eureka, of BFI don't unearth a few of these for Blu-ray, as I think they're just as significant as many of the French and Japanese films that often get put out.

New Stuff: Strangler of Blackmore Castle

Picked up on US import the German produced 'krimi' film The Strangler at Blackmoor Castle, a fairly literal translation of the film's original title, Der Würger von Schloß Blackmoor.  It was made in 1963 and features sexy one time Bond-girl-to-be Karin Dor, who lives in a castle that has attracted the attention of a black-gloved killer who's interested in acquiring some diamonds that he knows are hidden somewhere.  It's kind of clunky, peppered throughout with odd stabs of German humour, which occasionally work in their idiosyncratic naivety.  Castle location is brilliant, and the Scooby Doo-esque unmasking of the killer is a bit of a cracker.  Also the distinctive music score by Oskar Sala is a real highlight - unfortunately he didn't do much else outside of TV projects and shorts.

Released on DVD by Alpha Video, the fullscreen B&W transfer is reasonable for them, but ugly in any kind of wider context, while the English dub track is merely functional.  What's worst is the fact that it's cropped (probably from 1.66:1), frequently transforming talking actors into disembodied voices.  The film's okay but I would welcome the chance to watch it one day in German language with a decent widescreen transfer.  I bought this disc because it was the only viable way to see the movie, but Alpha Video wouldn't know how to treat a film properly if a restoration course slapped them round the face.  There are no extras of course (unless you count still images of other releases by Alpha).  Strangely, many of Alpha's DVD covers are very nicely designed, with fundamentally sound understanding of colour use, this one being no exception.

New Stuff: Tetsuo

Have just picked up the recently released Blu-ray of Tetsuo and its sequel from Third Window Films.  The films are not for the conventionally weaned crowd, they're insane splatter epics about humans fusing with machines and the consequential evolutionary routes they undertake towards prospective world domination.  I prefer the first one in terms of sheer raw intensity, however, the second one is more accomplished in its realisation of the uncompromising visuals.

Shot in 16mm, the first film (Iron Man) is black and white, the second (Body Hammer) in colour, both fullscreen (OAR) and presented in 1080p transfers supervised by writer/director Shinya Tsukamoto.  Don't expect beauty,  rather these are faithful representations of what's on the negatives.  They look appropriately rough in many respects, with the former a little on the slicker side.  Advances over DVD in terms of detail are probably quite limited, but I prefer what's here for better edge delineation, reduced artefacts, etc.  It feels like you're projecting the original elements on to your wall and that's very satisfying.  The two main films, Iron Man and Body Hammer are on one Blu-ray Disc, both in Japanese (stereo, DTS-HD) with optional English subtitles.  A second disc (DVD) contains a 19 minute interview with Tsukamoto, some trailers, and best of all the director's little seen 45 minute film Denchu Kozo No Boken plus a background featurette on the same.

The two discs are packed in a standard Blu-ray case, the cover of which is reversible for different artwork choices.  That all comes in an outer cardboard slipcase.  This is a stunning, essential release from Third Window, aimed directly at the collector of unusual horror material and Eastern cinema fans.

The Fly

1986, US / Canada, Directed by David Cronenberg
Colour, Running Time: 96 minutes
Review Source: Blu-ray, Region B, Fox; Video: 1.85:1 1080p 24fps, Audio: DTS HD MA

Is there anyone that hasn't seen David Cronenberg's The Fly remake? In an age where remakes have swamped the cinema release schedules over the last ten years or so, this film is an overwhelming demonstration of what can be done with someone else's previously filmed material. Taking the core story of the Vincent Price 1958 original, the 1986 version of The Fly is brought up to date for the (then) modern era in terms of technology, science, and sheer gruesomeness. It's the story of a scientist who has cracked the teleportation problem, and in testing the machine (two pods, whereby the molecules of the one are disintegrated and reintegrated into the second) he goes through unknowingly at the same time as a house fly that has unfortunately landed in the pod prior to the teleportation. The computer confuses the two organisms and effectively splices them together at a genetic level, thus beginning a progressive transformation of the man into a horrific amalgamation of the two. What sets Cronenberg's story apart from the average monster movie, partially, is a particularly strong emotional foundation. Brundle's degeneration into disgusting monstrosity, the product of his own relentless curiosity and drive to push science forward, is ultimately tragic and believable. There are five stars of this film in my opinion - firstly, David Cronenberg of course, who continued his exploration of mutations of the human body on a thematic level, in the process creating one of the greatest remakes in cinema history. Then there is possibly the most talented composer in the film (and probably non-film) world, Howard Shore, whose score pounds home Cronenberg's themes at key points, building momentum to the devastating climax. The next two are Jeff Goldblum and Geena Davis, whose performances bring all of this together in a gripping fashion. Finally, there is Chris Walas' awe-inspiring creature effects, which are still repulsive to this day. There are a couple of moments that seem to be there purely for shock value more than anything else but the result of Brundle's dabbling is like a nasty car crash - you kind of can't take your eyes of it despite the fact that it's not at all nice to look at. The stilted dialogue of the early scenes is not to be off-putting - the film develops itself into a classic of the horror/science fiction hybrid (appropriately) genre.

I've seen this film on most home video formats and have more recently picked up the Blu-ray Disc, promptly selling the DVD. Video cassettes of this film looked awful - very muddy and indistinct. DVD was noticeably better, but the film's rough look has made it difficult to translate to the lower resolution of VHS and DVD. The Blu-ray is significantly improved - in lighter scenes the detail is very strong, colours are far more realistic, and the contrast is better balanced. Darker scenes still look quite rough, but it's probably easier to see exactly what's going on now. There are details on the creature effects that I'm sure I never saw before on DVD. Overall, it's definitely worth upgrading to the Blu-ray for full HD image quality alone. The audio track is serviced by a lossless DTS-HD surround track - most of the sound comes from the front, particularly centre, channels, but the music is embellished with the greater resolution and very welcome impact. It is limited by 80s recording technology and that's never going to change, but it sounds better here than it ever has. On the disc you also get the extras of one of the former DVD special editions (the set I originally bought had The Fly II on an extra disc, but of course that isn't included here). That includes director commentary, documentary, deleted scenes, and loads more. For fans of the film, you have to pick up this very strong Blu-ray and ditch your old DVD/laserdisc/VHS as soon as possible.

Night of the Devils

1972, Italy/Spain, Directed by Giorgio Ferroni
Colour, Running Time: 93 minutes
Review Source: Blu-ray, Region A, Raro Video; Video: 2.39:1 1080p 24fps, Audio: DTS HD-MA Mono

This once very obscure Italian/Spanish film (titled at source as La Notte dei Diavoli) is based on the 'wurdulak' legend - a vampiric creature originating, I believe, from either European or Russian mythology, who returns from the grave to sacrifice loved ones, bringing them into the netherworld, in order to combat the loneliness of limbo death. In the film a man (driven insane, Lovecraft-style, and recalling the tale in flashback) crashes his car when he believes he sees an elderly woman crossing the vehicle's path, someone who is nowhere to be seen when he emerges from the damaged motor. Wandering off in search of help that can't initially be found he discovers a local man who, after an amiable discussion, offers to let him stay at his house for the night. There he finds a family in the midst of perpetual fear as each evening a recently deceased family member returns to the building to summon them. The dead person seeks company in its lonely ethereal world paradoxically by killing those loved during life, and our protagonist finds himself apparently unable to escape this increasingly threatening and supernaturally plagued environment.

Bearing strong similarities to the vampire legend (along with elements of zombie lore), the myths of the wurdulak have largely been ignored in cinema (arguably a missed opportunity, as there is a tragic richness to the concept), with one prior notable exception: Mario Bava's classic Black Sabbath (I Tre Volti Della Paura), where the tale occupied one third of the anthology structure (with Boris Karloff). Very effectively and artistically shot was the Bava film, unsurprisingly for anyone who's seen any of his other work, and Night of the Devils, directed by the lesser known Ferroni, understandably has a lot to live up to. Ferroni did, however, a decade or so before this shoot the Gothic delight that was Mill of the Stone Women and could be considered already qualified with such territory. Proceeding in a slow and solemn fashion Night of the Devils may struggle to keep many shaky-cam-weaned teens awake, and perhaps a shake-up in the pace department would have been of benefit, but what it lacks in urgency it makes up for in sinister, supernatural ambience. The fact that it's also punctuated by occasional gore - quite heavy for the period - and a grisly disintegrating head effect is of no great disadvantage either! The grim house in which Nikolas becomes trapped is enshrouded by an air of doom as the whole family lives in terror of the regularly returning 'corpse', and the city man's inability to escape builds on this fear of the otherworldly. Eventually (and I do mean eventually!) the tension really picks up and finally pays off to an extent, as the escape attempt comes under repeated attack from the increasing number of wurdulaks, giving Night of the Living Dead a run for its rotting flesh. This great climax really strengthens the preceding sombre and plodding nature, but there is a further bonus in the slightly ambiguous angle of the conclusion itself. This adds a potentially different take on what has been remembered in Nikolas's flashback. The score is a mixed bag - the theme tune itself tends to irritate (depending on personal taste of course - some viewers seem to love it), thankfully only being used two or three times, whilst elsewhere the incidental soundtrack is suitably spooky. Composer Giorgio Gaslini was known for creating music for quite a few Italian cinema titles, most notably though his contributions to the Deep Red soundtrack.

The film was once virtually impossible to find on home video formats (although of note, there was a soundtrack CD available in Italy) - it deserves to be seen by a wider audience and the Euro horror crowd (of which I am one) in particular should be appreciative of any such release. Raro Video (their US arm) have struck a new high definition transfer for this Blu-ray and it is sumptuous. Detail is advanced over anything standard definition can produce in a delicate fashion, rather than looking overly sharp. Everything is clear and the photography of the original material (undertaken by the highly experienced Manuel Berenguer of La Residencia fame) can truly be appreciated for the work of beauty that it is. I was particularly enamoured with the lush autumnal colour palette evident throughout, and seeing the film this way actually helps one to accept the slower pace of the story - there is time to soak up the visuals, a benefit lost in much of today's kinetic film-making. Raro have done a sterling job with the picture, and struck a major point for fans of European horror. Not only that, but you get a loss-less choice of the English or Italian language tracks, with optional English subtitles available - I would urge experiencing Night of the Devils in Italian if you do not suffer an aversion to reading dialogue while you're watching a film. There's also a lively five minute introduction to the film by Fangoria's editor, who delivers a charismatic contextualisation of the movie alongside personal opinion, plus a half hour interview with composer Gaslini, who comes across as very old-school Italian if I may say so! There's a nicely designed booklet contained in the package (though I did notice a few small mistakes in this, to be pedantic) and the case is enclosed within a slipcover. Raro have given a near-lost classic of Euro Horror a fantastic release that many other companies should aspire to as more and more of these mouth-watering titles gradually appear on Blu-ray. A collector's dream.

The X Files

1998, US, Directed by Rob Bowman
Colour, Running Time: 118 minutes
Review Source: DVD, R2, Fox; Video: Anamorphic 2.35:1, Audio: Dolby Digital 5.1

Taking an idea that was most recently (in terms of the show's chronology) mentioned in the finale to season 5, the movie begins with a couple of Neanderthals discovering in a cave what may be an extraterrestrial life form, a malevolent and putrid creature that destroys them. Jump forward several million years to the present day and some Dallas boys stumble across what is probably the same place underground, one of them (the lad who played Caleb so perceptively in American Gothic) becoming trapped with a strange black liquid that infiltrates his skin and takes over his body… Not only do the fire brigade turn up but a horde of militaristic vehicles arrive, suggesting that something altogether more profound is going on than a mere threat to a child’s life. Some time later FBI agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully are involved in a terrorist situation that has them attempting to prevent the explosion of a building and its possible consequential catastrophic loss of life. Thanks to Mulder’s innate ability to turn a seemingly illogical hunch into the catalyst for an unprecedented discovery the agents end up searching what is initially suspected to be the wrong building. It actually turns out to be the ‘right’ building and they barely escape with their lives before the whole thing blows. It later transpires that what they thought was a cleared area just prior to the blast has in fact become the death bed for a couple of firemen and a young boy. Not only that but the FBI are as good as blaming the two agents for the disaster - they really were in the wrong place at the wrong time it seems. After a hearing that places their careers somewhere in mid air Mulder is contacted by a rogue writer of conspiracy theories, a man who is constantly at odds with authorities that are pinning anything on him that might put him out of action (e.g. child pornography claims). The man suggests that the people who ‘died’ in the explosion were actually already dead and this puts Mulder (along with a reluctant Scully) on a trail that leads the agents to the realisation that the whole thing may have been designed to cover up evidence of the possibility that aliens once visited the Earth and now threaten to repopulate it.

The first theatrical outing (sometimes under-titled Fight The Future or simply The Movie) for The X Files effectively bridges the gap between seasons 5 and 6: for the cracking final episode of the former the X Files department (read: basement) was not only shut down but burned down with Mulder and Scully being reassigned to more mundane cases (such as terrorist bomb threats and the like…). The irony is that the case they’re working on turns out to be inextricably linked to the very conspiracies that they’ve been ushered away from. The opening bomb scenario reminds me a little of that in Speed, but with a touch more realism (apart from Mulder’s discovery of the bomb’s location, one of those coincidences that underpins much of the series) - a pretty exciting and highly functional grip on the viewer for what’s to come. Woven into the dialogue are keenly inserted snippets of historical passages no doubt designed to familiarise viewers who may not be up to date with the show itself, but their incorporation just about manages to avoid contrivance. Familiar characters from the show are also peppered throughout - the smoking man, the lone gunmen, and Skinner of course - and these characters become mechanically relevant elements of the fairly intricate plot. In fact some viewers unaware of the show’s staples may find some of the dialogue-heavy sections hard work, being articulate, complicated, and undeniably paranoid as they are. Hence all of the elements are there that made the show work in the first place and this would be amongst the best episodes if it were such. Surprisingly the movie doesn’t simply take on the appearance of just another episode - it looks and feels much bigger in scope from the outset: the famous 20th Century Fox ident at the beginning, an apparently much more generous budget, the 2.39:1 aspect ratio (up from the 1.78:1 of the preceding season and the 1.33:1 of earlier seasons), and the absence of the show’s opening sequence, which it has to be said just wouldn’t have worked for a convincing theatrical presentation. Some of Mark Snow’s distinctive theme has been implemented into the score generally, however, so it’s not entirely missed. Gillian Anderson and Dave Duchovny both translate their characters to the big screen well and are by this point very comfortable with the two people who simply couldn’t have been portrayed by anybody else. Their near onscreen kiss is a cool highlight too. It was really nice to see Lucas Black show up (as the boy who comes into contact with the substance) though the fact that they used Christopher Fennell too (one of Caleb’s friends in American Gothic) makes me wonder whether this was an in-joke. The story itself, penned by the show’s creator Chris Carter along with regular collaborator Frank Spotnitz, reaches a huge and rousing climax that really tingles the flesh and proves that there was still life in the dog at that point.

The video transfer is by now dated but just manages to serve its purpose in an age that is rapidly becoming hi-def by default. It’s soft and features a slightly artificial looking colour scheme that I suspect could be substantially improved nowadays. The 5.1 track is aggressive, loud, and enveloping; this suits the TV series-to-cinema upgrade perfectly. A second disc of extras combines with an audio commentary to round out a pretty good package, however, the US Blu-ray version has really made this set redundant (for some reason, only the later film - I Want To Believe has made its way to UK Blu). I think this film is a thoroughly good expansion on the show’s concepts and a carrot to entice people to continue watching into season 6. Unfortunately I feel that the show was to go on way too long and ran well out of steam by the end of its ninth and final season.