Reviews

Among Friends is a new movie about a group of friends who get together for a dinner party which turns into a violent, horrific and ultimately hilarious ordeal. Bernadette (Alyssa Lobit) organises a 1980's themed murder mystery for her BFFs, who unsuspectingly arrive in anticipation of nothing more than a playful evening of cocktails, drugs and the possibility of hopping into bed together. What they don't realise is that Bernadette has a bone to pick with each one of them, and before long the party becomes a trial, with their deliciously manic host serving as judge, jury and executioner.

Featuring cameos from the likes of Kane Hodder and Michael Biehn, in addition to being the directorial debut of Danielle Harris (Rob Zombie's Halloween, Hatchet I-III), Among Friends certainly comes with a genre pedigree. The writing, construction and shoot of the film was overseen by an almost entirely female crew. Elements of The Perfect Host (2010) and The Last Supper (1995) are combined with a unique and energetic method of delivery. Harris' direction is sharp, frenetic and delightfully sinister and the performances from Lobit, Brianne Davis, Jennifer Blanc-Biehn and AJ Bowen are particularly noteworthy.

A Day-Glo descent into Hell, Among Friends is a brilliantly funny, acerbic examination of friendships, lies and betrayal. Gory, gleeful and gorgeous, it manages to consistently digress from stereotype, creating a very unique feature in the process. It's as if the Breakfast Club had a get together twenty years later at the Firefly homestead from House of 1000 Corpses. Incredibly enjoyable, this movie has a lot of heart, and a lot of blood to go with it.

American Mary is, without a doubt, one of the most talked about movies of 2012. The Soska sisters' sophomore offering maintains all the charm and wit which made their debut 'Dead Hooker in a Trunk' such a success, but displays a significant development in style and technique which will undoubtedly solidify their high ranking status within the genre.

Universal Pictures has recently acquired distribution for the film, which has been causing delight amongst festival audiences all year, and has scheduled a limited UK/Ireland theatrical release to coincide with the DVD / BLU RAY launch which will take place on January 21st.

I have been fortunate enough to attend two screenings of the movie so far this year and so what can the uninitiated expect from the unexpected sensation of 2012?

The story centres around a young, gifted medical student named Mary Mason (Katharine Isabelle) who, whilst being exceptionally capable, is suffering from extraneous pressures caused by financial and personal difficulties. This, inevitably, affects her ability to devote her full and undivided attention to her studies. Her fragmented academic performance does not go unnoticed by her tutor, who curtly reprimands her, threatening her exclusion from the class lest she falter once again.

The strain builds and Mary is forced to look into new potential methods of financially supporting herself. Without giving too much away, her investigations lead her further from the conventional world of surgery and deeper into the underground realm of extreme body modification.

The reason that I am choosing not to divulge more of the story is that American Mary manages to be one of the few horror movies which I have watched this year that genuinely had me guessing as to what would happen next. The Soskas manage to veer away from almost every pitfall and stereotype that mars so many genre features.

What I found particularly effective was their definition of character. This was present, not only in the gender roles which were beautifully constructed, but in the very idea of our own personal perception. The unforgettable Beatress Johnson (Tristan Risk) is without a doubt one of the strongest on screen presences in the movie, the pathos which she creates elicits is reminiscent of Tod Browning's 'Freaks'. Indeed, just as Browning portrayed 'regular' society as beastly and cruel whilst simultaneously highlighting the sense of camaraderie and familial ties which existed amongst his outcasts, Jen and Sylvia Soska examine similar themes.

There is strength to the female characters in the movie which manages to remain both honest and believable. They are neither over-exaggerated butch heroines, nor are they whimpering slasher fodder. They are well constructed, authentic characters with depth that combines faults and strengths in a testament to the writing skills of the twins.

Tension is built throughout and plays alongside a growing air of intrigue and suspense, the like of which is very unique to this movie.

American Mary is a blood soaked dreamscape which completely immerses to the extent that the running time simply flashes by. There is so much that remains to be said on the subject. This is not only an exceptionally well made horror film, this is a turning point.

Colin McCracken also writes extensively at his website zombiehamster.com and can be found on Twitter as @zombiehamster

What Before Dawn has managed to do is give a well needed dose of life and energy into a sub-genre which has been faltering somewhat of late. The tone, pace and aesthetic of the film are all marvellous. The relationship between Alex and Meg is so engrossing and believable that it draws you right in. This is very much an examination of human interaction, in which the zombie apocalypse just so happens to be occurring in the background. It's too easy to make the Mike Leigh and Ken Loach comparisons, because they are very unique filmmakers, thankfully, so is Dominic Brunt.

The pathos which is generated by the shambling, partially alcoholic Alex is a stark contrast to the energetic and productive Meg; however, an emptiness exists in them both, cleverly accentuated by sharp, penetrating dialogue. The subtle jibes which they make at each other, even in the midst of kind gestures will ring true to anyone whose relationship has passed the point of no return. Alex's strained interactions with this mother in law are also particularly well written and delivered.

Nicky Evans' Alex is one of the finest examples of survivalist character to appear in many years. He manages to generate both suspicion and empathy simultaneously, his appearance climaxing in a particularly effecting manner.

This is not to categorise the film as a kitchen sink drama with zombies either, for that would be an injustice. It is merely the fact that the richness and depth of the characters on screen generates a connection that is rarely seen in genre features. A marvellous combination of astute filmmaking and deft knowledge of the horror film, Before Dawn is a film which warrants multiple viewings to allow the multitude of subtleties to sink in.

Where the film really succeeds is that it delivers on the gore front as well. The zombies are of a new ilk, one which manages to create a new strain of terror, just when we thought we'd seen it all. Their stripped, shorn faces, accentuated by blood red eyes and frantic lunges become terrifying and we begin to feel as edgy as the characters within the piece.

Before Dawn is a rare treat, an intelligent genre piece which has so much to offer. The performances are a testament to all involved and certainly one of the most talked about movies at Grimmfest. If there is any justice in the, this movie will take pride of place in any discerning horror fans collection. I can only hope that this is merely the first that we've seen of Dominic Brunt and Joanne Mitchell.

Colin McCracken also writes extensively for zombiehamster.com as well as a number of genre publications. He can be found on Twitter as @zombiehamster

The terror that swept America has finally found a home on the far side of the Atlantic, thanks to Monster Pictures UK, who will release the movie on January 14th 2013. James Bickert's 16mm exploitation extravaganza Dear God No! is a loving homage to the classic biker, sexploitation and monster features which lit up the drive in screens across the world so many years ago.

The Impalers are the most reprehensible biker gang in the Tri State area, one who have raped, robbed and butchered a path across the highways. The movie opens with the gang waking up after a night of debauchery, the ground on which they slept is strewn with beer cans, drug paraphernalia and dead nuns. This is nothing out of the ordinary for the gang who proceed to make their way towards a local hangout to have a sit down with the Satan's Own crew.

The meeting goes bad and our protagonists take refuge in a reclusive cabin in the woods, home to a very stern scientist named Dr Marco (Paul McComiskey) and his seemingly meek daughter Edna (Madeline Brumby). They are in the midst of conducting experiments into the mysterious mutilation of local wildlife. Also in attendance are a young couple, one of whom is a Todd. It should be made very clear at this juncture that The Impalers hate Todds.

The simple act of home invasion takes a trip into dark and terrifying places, with the tension increasing as terrible secrets are revealed. The blood is thick flowing and ever present, the witty dialogue creates more one-liners than your average stand up show and there are more gun toting girls here than Tarantino has ever dared to put in his movies. The most important thing to know about Dear God No! is the fact that it is a hilarious, depraved and genuine slice of grindhouse. It's nasty, grimy and raw and that's just what the grindhouse features were all about. Bickert manages to successfully pay tribute to the movies and aesthetic which he loves whilst simultaneously creating something very modern and unique.

True fans of exploitation cinema will certainly find plenty to keep them entertained within this movie and, hopefully, will ignite some interest in a whole new generation of fans. With a fabulous one sheet by Tom Hodge and a sequel with the amazing title of Frankenstein Created Bikers in the works, this could be the beginning of a beautiful franchise.

Colin McCracken writes extensively for zombiehamster.com as well as a number of genre publications. He can be found on Twitter as @zombiehamster

A paradoxical myriad of influences and styles runs through Excision, the feature debut from NYU graduate Richard Bates Jr. A development of his 18 minute short which played the festival circuit in 2008, the film charts a brief spell in the life of Pauline (AnnaLynne McCord), one of the most dysfunctional teenagers to hit the screen since Todd Solondz's Welcome to the Dollhouse (1995). Far less fetishized than Terry Zwigoff's teenage female outcasts, Pauline is the epitome of awkward. Her gait eschews any form of grace, leaving her a hunched over, lumbering mess. Even keeping her mouth closed appears, at times, to be too much effort. In short, she's the perfect representation of the unfathomable levels of apathy and brooding that exist within the mind of the troubled teen.

McCord, better known to television viewers as the star of shows such as Nip/Tuck and 90210, is almost unrecognisable as the scowling girl with greasy hair and bad skin. It was not, however, an easy part for her to attain. In a recent interview both Bates Jr. and McCord stated that it was a difficult process. From the offset, the director refused to entertain McCord's persistent applications to be associated with the feature. Luckily for us her tenacity paid off and she was granted an audition. Bates' scepticism continued until the young actress showed her commitment to the feature by responding to the statement that she would have to cut her hair for the role by hacking at her locks right there and then. Seeing more of Pauline in the glamorous actress than he could ever have imagined, the partnership was made and the process began.

One of the aforementioned paradoxes within the film is the drafting in of a delightful range of the Hollywood bad boys (and girls); Traci Lords, John Walters, Malcolm McDowell and Ray Wise all appear. All of these characters could have been utilised as the outsiders and freaks of the movie with whom Pauline connects and finds solace, yet in a clever play against type, it is this motley crew who comprise the upstanding, conservative and unprogressive adults in the movie. Lords plays Pauline's God-fearing mother Phyllis with her trademark vigour and wit, clearly loving the experience of taking the moral high ground over the rebellious youth. Waters plays a chaplain and Wise and McDowell both work at the school as headmaster and teacher respectively.

Pauline aspires to one day become a successful surgeon, something which is greatly hindered by her lack of academic capability. Experimenting on roadkill and dreamily pondering over medical textbooks culminates in bizarre fantasies which range from brutal eviscerations to necrophilia.

All of this is heavily coincides with the social dilemmas which she faces on a daily basis (ranging from puberty to friends and relationships). Modern Family's Ariel Winter plays Grace, Pauline's younger sister, who is suffering from Cystic Fibrosis. The strain which her illness puts upon the family often trivialises the nature of Pauline's growing pains. This parallel makes for one of the most interesting aspects of the movie, alluding to the insular and self- absorbed nature of the teen mind.

There is a great deal of dark humour on display in Excision. Humour as pitch black as coal and as sharp as surgical steel. The nightmarish surrealism which is achieved will resonate for days afterwards. A well written and enjoyable debut which manages to balance a sinister side with a tender character study, resulting in an exceptionally strong feature, Excision is well deserving of the praise which it is currently receiving.

Excision is available now through Monster Pictures UK. You can find out more about the movie on the Official Website, Twitter or Facebook.

Colin McCracken writes extensively for zombiehamster.com as well as a number of genre publications. He can be found on Twitter as @zombiehamster

Killer Joe is the new movie from William Friedkin, one of the most revered and important directors of the last 50 years. A Southern Gothic tale of a hired killer and the most reprehensible family to grace the screen since reality TV was established, it follows the trials and misfortunes of a young man named Chris Smith (Emile Hirsch) as he tries to relieve himself of a considerable debt which he owes to a local kingpin (Marc Macaulay).

The movie opens with Chris banging on the door of his father's trailer in the middle of a rain drenched night, only to be greeted by the semi naked form of his father's new partner Sharla (Gina Gershon) who reluctantly lets him in. His father Ansel (Thomas Haden Church) is a bumbling and perpetually apathetic man who would seemingly always prefer to be elsewhere, contemplation of any kind seems to cause him great discomfort and the arrival of his son in a frantic and panicked state causes only disconcertion and irritation.

His appearance is, however, central to the subsequent events which unfold. He piques his father's interest by alerting him to the fact that his estranged wife (whom up until recently Chris was living with) has recently taken out an extensive and sizeable life insurance policy, one which could set them both up for life, were she to meet with an unfortunate and seemingly accidental death.

Enter the titular Killer Joe Cooper played with slickness and formidable intimidation by Matthew McConaughey in a role which has, undoubtedly, caused surprise and amazement amongst those who would have dismissed him as an actor capable only of romantic comedies and similarly light hearted fare. Killer Joe agrees to facilitate the disappearance of Chris' mother, but is infuriated by the fact that Chris has attempted to avail of his services without the necessary funds which were a prerequisite of their meeting. Agreeing to take the company of Ansel and Sharla's heartbreakingly innocent daughter Dottie (Juno Temple) as a retainer, everything seems to be going well.

This, however, being a William Friedkin movie will not allow such things to happen. The astounding levels of tension which the director achieves are juxtaposed with claustrophobic and striking cinematography, a superb score and hugely admirable performances from all involved. It becomes a thrilling and stimulating character study of the low-down, the desperate and the broken. A sleaziness permeates every motive, action and thought of the characters in the world of Killer Joe, with each individual out for whatever they can take. McConaughey's Joe Cooper commands attention whenever he is on screen; his larger than life reputation is darkly personified whenever he enters the room (or trailer).

The storyline, adapted from Tracey Letts' 1993 play of the same name, maintains all of the dramatic tension of a theatre performance, whilst making an effortless transition to the big screen. Friedkin is well versed in the world of horror (it shouldn't need mentioning that he is the man who brought us The Exorcist in 1973) and has previously collaborated with Letts on the highly underrated 2006 psychological black comedy Bug. The griminess of Killer Joe is, at times, reminiscent of The French Connection (1971) and Cruising (1980), alluding to the on- screen brutality which ran through 2003's The Hunted. It's also hilarious in parts. A scene in which a rather brutal beating is played out to the soundtrack of Clarence Carter's 'Strokin' is one particularly brilliant turn, as is another very commonly alluded to moment involving a chicken drumstick.

A magnificent offering from a fantastic writer / director team, Killer Joe is a movie which works on a vast array of levels. It's visceral, intelligent and exceptionally well made. A delight which I will be revisiting many times in the near future.

Colin McCracken writes for zombiehamster.com in addition to a number of genre publications. He can also be found on Twitter as @zombiehamster

The concept of a documentary based around the entrepreneurial ventures of a rock star may not be to everyone's palate, one only has to think of the excited anticipation which 'Salmon Farming with Roger Daltrey!' or 'Cheese Making with the floppy haired posh boy who used to be in Blur' would arouse to confirm such a fact.

'Blood Into Wine' is about Maynard James Keenan (frontman with Tool, A Perfect Circle and Puscifer); well to be more precise, it's about his vineyard in Arizona. A place where he has been toiling for over a decade to produce a unique and remarkable range of wines. This is a project in which he has partnered with Eric Glomski, an exceptionally affable and knowledgeable expert in the field of challenging cultivation.

The documentary very soon focuses less about the man and more about his endeavour and becomes something altogether more fascinating than your average 'rock star' feature. Keenan is an interesting individual and his musical exploits are attested to by a barrage of talking heads, but the real interest lies in the meticulous and challenging procedure by which wine is conceived, grown and processed.

The location of Arizona is one which baffles most wine critics, yet upon inspection, the volcanic residue and limestone rich soil evokes a similar planting ground as that of southern Sicily. Different critics and writers are used throughout the film and each brings their own particular observations of the wine industry and the pretensions that exist around it.

It will probably be a bit of a let-down for anyone who is seeking a documentary about Tool, but Puscifer get a bit of screen time, including a brief conversation with sometimes vocalist Milla Jovovich. It would be best to approach this with an open mind and an open bottle.

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For a long time, I have been of the belief that Gerard Butler only ever made films in which he was a man on the edge. A man who was pushed. A man who merely wants his family back. I have, in fact, on many occasions watched an entire GB movie whilst screaming 'Give me my family back' at the screen.

I had extinguished all hopes of this being a 'Nude Nuns With Big Guns' meets 'Shoot Em Up' exploitation extravaganza as soon as I saw the poster. The first warning signals went off when I saw that it was directed by Marc Foster, the being responsible for Monster's Ball, Finding Neverland, Quantum of Solace and The Kite Runner, none of which I particularly enjoyed. Yet, being a man who is open of mind and forgiving of spirit, I decided to roll the dice and take a chance.

Nothing could have prepared me for what these eyes have now witnessed. Machine Gun Preacher starts with Gerard Butler (playing Sam Childers, the man whom this story is tenuously based), he's just been released from prison (gets his family back far too early in this one, thus removing any genuine Butler based motivation from the movie), he's a man on the edge. He takes some drugs and stabs a hobo. Then he feels bad about stabbing the hobo and his girlfriend takes him to church.

After visiting church ONCE, Childers is so filled with the holy spirit that he immediately turns his life around. He not only wants Jesus to fill his every inch of being, he wants to put Jesus into other people too.

Cut to war torn Sudan, where Childers is now working construction (one of this movies many flaws is that it is unable to link sequences with any sense of grace or artistry, leaving it as clunky as Marley's chains) and witnessing the injustice and genocide that sweep the country, he decides to build a massive church in the middle of the war zone (because that'll be a huge bloody help) and can henceforth spread his message from the lord (delivered personally at the back of a car park according to Childers) to these heathens and hopefully end the war in the process.

OK, so it's an orphanage as well, but to be honest, you can't let the emotional elements detract you from the fact that this is one of the most disgustingly propaganda-like movies that I have seen in years. It basically says that if you accept Jesus into your life, nothing's gonna stop you now (like Jefferson Starship). It's hokey, overly sentimental and horrendously played out. Butler is as wooden as a supporting beam on one of his ramshackle shelters.

There's a really explicit form of violence portrayed to manipulate you into thinking that because this is a film about serious subject matter, that it is above scrutiny. Women are shown after having their lips cut off, children lie in mangled heaps after playing hopscotch on land mines, but it's not effecting, it's crass and presented for all the wrong reasons.

I am not putting down anything that the real Sam Childers has actually done in his life, he sounds like a genuinely nice guy, but real life doesn't play out like it does in this film. It's a contrived amalgamation of saccharine and horsesh*t, with some 'heavy' battle scenes thrown in for the 'oh the humanity' effect.

The worst fermenting pile of garbage that Gerard Butler has ever put his name to, and I've seen The Bounty Hunter.

The legacy of Mario Bava spans many genres and styles. His influence permeated pop culture. This feature was the inspiration for the title of Cypress Hill's breakthrough album and his movie 'Black Sabbath' gave the name to a rather popular band from Birmingham. His cinematic influence touched the likes of Lucio Fulci, Dario Argento and Jean Rollin. His giallo flicks were exceptional, but his horror was a thing of Gothic beauty.

If you feel like you want to investigate the work of the man who inspired so many magnificent horror films then 'Black Sunday' is a wonderful place to start. The opening scene alone must have blown so many minds when it was projected upon a massive screen in cinemas worldwide in 1960. It shows Barbara Steele and Arturo Dominici tied to stakes, under trial for witchcraft and devil worshipping. The justice is dealt with severity and wrath as an iron maiden style mask is hammered into to their faces and their bodies entombed.

The cinematography of this scene is so striking and startling that the viewer is instantly captivated and remains fixated for the duration. We are then transported two hundred years into the future to the same Moldavian location where a Doctor and his assistant are travelling through the forests (with the help of a most reluctant guide) en route to a medical conference. They discuss the folly of local superstition while simultaneously displaying minor concerns as to the foreboding nature of their environment.

They stumble upon the accursed tomb as they wait for their carriage to be fixed and inexplicably break open the coffin of Asa (Steele) which proves to be a very unwise decision. Their arrival at the castle is commented upon by the locals who believe it to be cursed (which it is). We learn of centuries of family tragedy and this escalates with the Doctor's presence. The demons return, plaguing all present and unleashing the forces of Hell upon all who reside within the doomed building.

Bava took the primary inspiration for this piece from a short story by 'Dead Souls' author Nikolai Gogol entitled 'Viy', of which there is a magnificent 1967 Russian movie available (which shall be reviewed soon). Whilst Bava's 'Black Sunday' is far more liberal with the source material, this is inconsequential, as the finished result is one of the best examples of the era.

The use of set design is a constant source of joy and a credit to Bava's artistic eye. There are several versions available and so it will be your choice if you watch the subtitled or the dubbed version (an English language version was recorded and released for International distribution). Steele is a remarkable scream queen and as foreboding as the castle which she terrorises.

A remarkably beautiful movie for its macabre source material, 'Black Sunday' is an absolute essential acquisition for any true horror fan and with any luck, it'll send you on an exploratory journey through the work of one of cinema's true masters.

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Bathing in urban squalour and decay, this Method Man starring feature may not be what you might expect. Meth (as fans of the Wu Tang Clan affectionately refer to him) plays an awkward, ambling outsider who as the title suggests, works at the city morgue. He shuffles two and from work with his head hanging low. A man of few words, his hours away from the corpses are spent practicing his taxidermy skills and cuddling a friendly prostitute.

Continually harassed by some of the most unconvincing hoodlums that have ever been committed to celluloid (there are literally millions of people out there who could fit the role of 'Thug #4', so why filmmakers feel the consistent need to draw incredibly fake tattoos on supporting actors is beyond me). These rough kids from the wrong side of the street make his life miserable (in a pretty non-threatening way, truth be told) and we can see that he's a man who may soon crack.

This is where the trouble begins, primarily and most significantly, Method Man is wholly unsuitable for this part. Method Man is wholly unsuitable for most parts in which he is required to do anything other than be Method Man. He is not a good actor and in this, his lack of ability is accentuated tenfold. The film was shot in 3D for reasons which are far beyond my comprehension, for it is a melodrama. The last time I checked, melodramas were not top of the list on 3D. Shall I await the extended reboot of Ulee's Gold 3D? On Golden Pond 3D? The Erotic Adventures of Harold & Maude 3D? Anyway, I digress. Meth is a wonderful personality; an entertainer and (occasionally) a great rapper. None of these skills, however, are required or suitable for the role of a bookish, bullied, meek individual. Every time the camera zooms in on him, the viewer gets the impression that he's thinking; 'this is my acting face'.

It's not just the acting that's at fault here, the sets are well utilized and do give a strong sense of deterioration within a working class environment, which is a theme which could have been explored in greater depth within the film. Meth's old time dress sense is a nice touch, but his outfits look so pristine that they are clearly taken from the set dresser's rail. He looks like a man who has been dressed for a role and this only makes him more awkward in his appearance, and not in the manner of which he desires. The shrugs and stooped gait are not enough for the character to become real to us. He also keeps walking around a lot and looking at things. This happens in most films, but the problem with this is that for the first 30 minutes, this is about all you get.

You get drawn into his facial expressions so much because there's so little else to focus on.

Then something happens (which I won't go into for now) and the appearance of Edward Furlong (looking so tired and haggard that my viewing companion thought it was Rob Schneider) and Wendell Peirce (The Wire, Treme) brings a short lived bout of excitement (but they are both gone again as soon as they appear, not to be heard from again at all really). Peirce's use of the word 'laddybuck' remains the film's highlight for me.

The main antagonist starts to turn the heat up on Meth as he drives around listening to the same Method Man song on his car stereo. He is listening to the same song in every scene that he has in the car and it becomes both somewhat irritating and unnecessary.

By the time something does happen, the filmmakers have clearly decided that we need to be informed of this (as most will have fallen asleep) and so they blast some of the worst 'suspense' music I've heard used in a long time. There are also extended sax solos at some of the depressing scenes which can only help to lighten the mood. I love sax solos, especially when they are used to highlight the severity of a situation or the revelation of a chilling back-story. The film gets bonus points for this.

You spend so much time for Meth to revert to gangsta mode and start busting heads. I will let you find out for yourself how, when and if this actually happens at all. The levels of melodrama in this range from the acceptable to the soap opera and so it's hard to be overly enthusiastic about this film. It would have made a good short, or an episode of a TV show, but as a feature length, it becomes a chore to get through. It's fine, but as we all speed towards our own tenure on the mortician's slab, we should probably aim for better than 'fine'.

Read more at zombiehamster.com

George Hardy is an incredibly likable man. He has a steady job at a successful dental surgery and is devoted to his children. He keeps fit and has a great sense of humour alongside an admired position amongst the rural community of his Alabama home. Hardy was never a famous man, but he did have one significant outing on the silver screen as part of Italian director Claudio Fragasso's (Zombi 3, Zombie Creeping Flesh) infamous Troll 2.

Best Worst Movie is a documentary about the legacy which Troll 2 left behind. Although, the actual depth and significance of this legacy may have been exaggerated slightly by the filmmaker Michael Stephenson, who was the child star of the feature. The documentary follows the reunited cast of Troll 2 as they relive the insanity of the shoot and wallow in the brief appreciation that arose out of the obsessive nostalgia of the fans.

Hardy is the first to be studied in depth and his amiability and small town charm ooze through the screen, as they hunt down the other stars the story starts to take a turn for the weird. It is worth noting at this point that none of the stars of Troll 2 were professional actors, they had all answered casting calls for extras and were given leading roles by Fragasso, who spoke very little English at the time. Fragasso also used an entirely Italian crew who also spoke very little English, all of which resulted in the bizarre farce that the movie became. This practice was not uncommon though, Lucio Fulci (who Fragasso shared directorial duties with at certain points of his career) adopted the same practice for his 'Trilogy' (The Beyond, House by the Cemetery and City of the Living Dead). The end result of the two directors couldn't be further removed, however, as were Fulci managed to inject a great deal of style and cinematic flare into his work. Fragasso does not.

Troll 2's infamy lies in the fact that it was voted the Worst Movie Ever on IMDb, a quote which is often mentioned in the subsequent promotion of the movie. The actors are all happy to admit that it is a terrible movie and have no problem playing along with the crowds who showcase the movie with the intention of having a good laugh at it all. Fragasso is not as pleased about it. One gets the impression that he is of the idea that his movies have been taken on board as classics and his smile drops very quickly when he realises that people are laughing at his 'art'.

There are actors who have since become damaged recluses and others who were quite literally on day release from mental institutions. Hardy gets swept up in the media furor, eager to lash out his catchphrase; 'You can't p*ss on hospitality, I won't allow it.' For anyone who will listen. He organises a charity event showing in his hometown and even attends a few conventions. The UK convention was a particularly sobering affair, with the attendance in single figures, it seems to be the moment when Hardy realises that the film industry isn't where he wants to be. His disgust and revulsion at the attendees of the horror con is kind of sad in many ways.

This is such a compelling and interesting documentary that it becomes very much about the individuals involved and less about the original subject matter (Troll 2). This is an absolute must see for any fan of horror, sci-fi or good documentaries as it offers a worthy insight into the machinations of the low budget movie industry.

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In a sleepy backwoods the Smith family keep themselves to themselves, with good reason. The dysfunctional and barely held together nature of the family is made abundantly clear from the offset. The daughter Gloria (who only responds to the name 'Blackbird') seems particularly at odds with her mother, whilst a hangdog father harnesses an air of moroseness and regret.

During (what we assume to be) a typically unpleasant dinner, there is a knock on the door. A man in white arrives on their doorstep in the dead of night, in search of charity. He is well spoken and genuine, a surgeon who has lost his way and run into some car trouble. The father takes pity on him and consults his wife as to whether they can offer some charity in the hope that the news of it will help to un-tarnish their reputation in the town.

After being initially refused, he is granted a bed for the night and charismatically spends a little time with each individual member of the family, despite a violent and disturbing outburst from Gloria. The charm and debonair nature of the stranger evoke images of a lost Twilight Zone episode, whilst an air of menace hangs around him, like Robert Mitchum in Night of the Hunter.

The film takes many turns throughout the subsequent events, some of which will surprise, some of which will disappoint, but at no stage will you be left bored or disinterested. This is a very well played out horror film and one which will certainly stick in my mind for some time. I would question the initial show of hand as I felt that it occurred a trifle too soon, however, this is only a minor criticism. Another flaw would be the supporting actresses, in particular the brother's girlfriend who is not very good at all, however, this could simply be because the leads are so strong.

I will not supply you with a synopsis of events, but I will say that The Bleeding House is one of the ones which slipped by me last year, as it probably did you, but holds the potential to become a sleeper hit.

It also left me with Nick Cave's 'Kindness of Strangers' stuck in my head for ages afterwards, not because it's used in the film…more that….well, you'll see.

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Admittedly, you could have taken a 6 inch brush and coloured me sceptical for this one. I am a huge fan of the original Wicker Man (less so of the Nicolas Cage version) and so it was with apprehension and doubt that I ventured into this sequel of sorts. The one saving grace may have been the close involvement of Robin Hardy, the original author and director of the Christopher Lee classic.

Lee was pencilled in to star in this movie but unfortunately health problems excluded him from doing so, his appearance is stripped down to a very incidental flashback scene, yet his name still rides high in the opening credits. This is only the first disappointment that you will experience when it comes to The Wicker Tree.

It is essential to be fair and state that it is far from the worst horror movie you will see this year, as it has a certain amount of redeeming features. The problem is the unfortunate fact that it will always have to stand comparison to the original, a movie which has cemented itself as an indisputable classic.

One of the primary difficulties which The Wicker Tree stumbles to overcome is the overall tone of the movie. It can't seem to decide whether it's a knowing and acerbic in-joke, a serious thriller or a humorous homage to its predecessor. This is one of the main reasons that it fails to have any definite resonance with the viewer, although it doesn't make it difficult to watch. There are some beautifully composed shots of the unforgiving Scottish countryside and a particularly handsome raven, but there's so little going on under the surface that it quickly becomes the equivalent of a rushed meal at a fast food restaurant, complete with the subsequent guilt, nausea and comedown.

The American leads are satisfactory in that all they have to do is play vacuous Evangelist Christians, sent over on a mission to the remote Scottish village. The villagers are played for comic relief rather than any form or actual menace and so the inevitable 'scene' that we're all waiting for the entire movie is played out like a community centre theatrical production of The Wicker Man, only with a slightly bigger budget and more actors.

If you're a Hardy obsessive, by all means give it a shot. If you're unfamiliar with the movie's origins, you'll probably get a few laughs out of it, but that's hardly what one would expect when a story comes from such good original stock. A missed opportunity.

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In one of our local video store chains, if a movie was considered morally objectionable it was emblazoned with a huge yellow sticker which proclaimed that it was 'Strictly over 18's'. To me, as a youngster, this was like showing a light bulb to a moth. By the time 'Surviving the Game' was released, I was already a seasoned Ice-T and Bodycount fan and so would happily devour any of the nonsensical films which he would associate himself with (a trait which still exists to a certain degree, albeit somewhat diminished at this stage – thanks a lot 'Leprechaun In Da Hood'). Those yellow stickers never failed me; they drew me to movies such as the Tom Savini remake of Night of the Living Dead (1990), Body Melt (1993) and Bad Taste (1987). The peculiar thing about 'Surviving the Game' was that it was only classified with a 15 certificate in the UK, but as I was growing up in Ireland and they had just introduced their own film classification system (one which still prohibits the release of many, many titles today*) one can only assume that they were being extra vigilant.

Such vigilance, however, was not displayed by any staff members at any of my frequented VHS rental outlets and so I was pretty much free to choose whatever I wanted and on one fine day I took the afternoon off school and retreated to my abode to wallow in some Ice-T based goodness.

I regret none of those actions and this all came flooding back when I re-watched STG last week. The first thing that struck me was the plethora of character actors on show, Charles S. Dutton, Ernest R. Dickerson, F. Murray Abraham, Gary Busey, Jack Mason, John C. 'Dr Cox' McGinley and Rutger Hauer all come out in force as a group of hunters in pursuit of the deadliest game of all…man.

The man in question is Jack Mason (Ice-T) a man battling his demons to the extent that he has lost everything, his wife, his child, his home. Now living rough on the streets of Seattle, he even loses his best friend when his dog is run over by a careless taxi driver in the first few minutes of the movie. The altercation with the driver brings Mason to the attention of Walter Cole (Dutton), a man posing as a charity worker, but who is in reality a recruitment officer for Thomas Burns (Hauer), an entrepreneur who facilitates the immoral bloodlusts of the rich and ethically vacuous Mason is brought to Burns' offices whereupon he is offered a job (with very little details provided), he reluctantly accepts and before he knows it, he's held up in a remote cabin in the wilderness with half a dozen of the most peculiar characters you're likely to see share a dinner together. It doesn't take long before their motives are made clear and Mason is cast out on his own, given a small head start before being tracked by the hunters.

Guess what? The hunters soon become the hunted and the tables get well and truly turned. OK, so it sounds dreadful and in many ways, it is. Yet, it is so enjoyably dreadful that you soon find yourself letting go and immersing yourself in Mason's plight. There is an intensity and a unique self-awareness which makes this stand out from similar movies and eventually, this makes this a remarkably endearing viewing experience.

It's violent without being excessively so, it has just the right amount of humour to maintain a suspension of disbelief and by the time comeuppance is delivered, you'll be cheering along. It was refreshing to see a strong African-American lead actor at the time and whist one wouldn't go as far as to call it ground-breaking in any sense of the word, that fact is certainly notable. Ice-T is quite far removed from his hip-hop persona and suits the crusty, dreadlocked role very well. Hauer and Busey are typically and wonderfully bonkers and the support of Abraham and McGinley are both worthy additions.

It was a pleasure to be reminded of a time when action movies could be so enjoyable and when character actors would partake in the movie without dominating it. Admittedly, the rush that I got for simply acquiring it wasn't there this time, but I think that was due to the lack of the yellow sticker.

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The 1990's were, for a time, a very exciting decade for cinema. Staggering out of the 80's with a coke hangover and indulgence fatigue, we experienced somewhat of a revolution in cinema. What was once ridiculously overblown and self-aggrandising became understated, simplified and strayed from the norm somewhat. We started referencing movies within our movies, we turned our attention to the exploitation cinema of the preceding decades and the film noir of the early half of the 20th century.

One of the sub-genres which grew substantially in popularity was the road movie. The likes of True Romance (1993), Natural Born Killers (1994), Thelma & Louise (1991) and Kalifornia (1993) popularised the concept of taking the actions out of the city and onto the highways. This gave the movies a sense of freedom and adventure which is of course, the very ideals which America was founded upon. They were, in the most part, pursuit and / or escape movies. The anti-heroes featured were usually on the run from something, be it the law or an unhappy lifestyle.

Slightly late to the dance was American Perfekt (1997), which features, upon reflection, some fascinating casting choices. Robert Forster, Fairuza Balk, David Thewlis, Amanda Plummer and Paul Sorvino all play their parts magnificently in this almost forgotten slice of oddball Americana.

Plummer plays Sandra Thomas, a woman who clearly hasn't managed to get her life completely together and who is driving across the desert to meet her sister Alice (Balk) who has absolutely no interest in getting hers together at all. After a near fatal crash, Sandra meets Jake Nyman (Forster) who helps her out as her car is practically totalled.

After the setup, we are thrust into a world of seedy motels and small town cops, of bar skanks and confidence tricksters (Thewlis is particularly slimy, repuslsive and wonderful in this, however, nothing will ever frighten me as much as his performance in 'Naked'). No one seems particularly trustworthy and this creates a Twin peaks feel to the movie in that it keeps you constantly guessing as to what the motives and true back stories of the characters. It was written and directed by Paul Chart, an artist who has done little else since, but if this is anything to go by, another offering would be graciously received.

The film spirals into a tense, dusty thriller which has both a charm and a quality that whilst being very much 'of the time', hold up exceptionally well fifteen years later. If you haven't yet had the pleasure of American Perfekt and enjoyed the aforementioned road movies, then this would be a great investment of a few hours.

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Vignette Horror is one of my favourite types, it's not just the accessibility of the format, but the deftness and wit that is required to create a sequence of short stories usually bypasses the problems which certain horror films have in terms of an overstayed welcome. The structure used in Tales From The Hood is the classic one which was perfected by the Amicus and Hammer studios in the 1960′s and 1970′s, only minus Joan Collins.

The 'cryptkeeper' in this case is played by Clarence Williams III, who is a drastically underused actor and always a delight to see on screen. He draws the attention of three local gangstas through the promise of a large amount of drugs which have come into his possession. The catch being that they must first listen to him tell several stories relating to the bodies which currently lie displayed within his funeral home.

It only has a running time of 98 minutes which is part of the reason why it is so successful and enjoyable. I am very much of the opinion that a great deal of horror movies now unnecessarily approach the 120 minute (and beyond) when they could have been infinitely more successful if shortened. There are four stories on show here, each relating to a particular hardship or struggle faced by the African American communities of the early 1990′s.

It's important to remember that this was an America which was still sore after the chaos of the LA Riots and the exposure of a crooked police force through the Rodney King videotape leak. Once you see that Spike Lee was drafted in as an executive producer, the social elements of the movie become contextualised to a greater extent.

The topics of the cautionary tales cover areas such as police brutality and racism withing law enforcement (Rogue Cop Revelation), domestic abuse against women and children (Boys Do Get Bruised), racism within politics (KKK Comeuppance) and the futility of gang culture and the violence it creates (Hard Core Convert). All are delivered with a supernatural twist which places the movie strongly into the horror genre and making it not only groundbreaking, unique for it's time, but also helps it to maintain a strength when watched today.

I was aware of the soundtrack before I was aware of the film itself as it was given to me shortly after its release in 1995, it would be a couple of years before I was able to track down a VHS copy. The OST features some fantastic tracks by Gravediggaz, Wu Tang Clan and a brilliant Ol Dirty Bastard track and is well worth locating a copy of.

When one considers the depths to which 'hood' based horror movies became after this ('Snoop Dogg's Hood of Horror' and 'Leprechaun back 2 Da Hood' being just two examples), it is all the more reason to revisit Tales From the Hood. There's something about it which will greatly appeal to a certain horror fan, particularly those fond of the genre output of the early 90′s.

I'd tell you to go to your local video store to acquire a copy, but there probably isn't even one left in your town. Get it whatever way you can, you won't regret it.

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As a precursor to the much loved 'Sorority Babes in The Dance-A-Thon of Death', 'Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama' is a historically and culturally significant piece of cinema. OK, so maybe not too culturally important, but with a title like that, it would be rude not to investigate.

Once a movie blasts onto the screen with day-glo pink credits and a heavy synth soundtrack then I know that I'm in my comfort zone. The 'Babes' in question are from Felta Delta, possibly the smallest sorority in the world (with a whopping three members) who are taking on new pledges (all two of them). There's a lot of spandex and big hair going on with the girls and so this could actually be marketed as a film from 2012 and very few people would notice.

There are numerous scenes of gratuitous nudity and a ludicrous paddling scene which goes on for a spectacularly long time. This is basically where the plot (such as it is) unravels. A group of young, horny guys have been spying on the kinky initiation ceremonies and are caught after peeking into the girls shower room and getting a little over-excited (a la 'Porky's'). Their punishment is to break into the nearby bowling alley and return with a trophy to satisfy the dominatrix like sorority leaders.

Once inside the bowling alley, it all starts to get really strange. In all honesty, I was busy salivating over all of the old arcade machines which were on display and so I may have missed a few minutes but I maintained a fair grasp of the overall gist. The teens meet up with a bad-ass chick named Spider (Scream queen Linnea Quigley) who is in the process of robbing the place. Involved a brief fracas they unwittingly knock over the chosen trophy which releases a jive talking imp who promises to grant them all one wish each.

Now, if I have learnt anything from movies (and I can assure you that I have) it's that one should never take an imp on his word alone. Not without some form of character reference, for imps are by nature, well….impish. The foolish youngsters, drunk on the folly of youth, all take him up immediately on his offer. This is much to their detriment as the wishes are not what they initially appear to be.

This movie is simply great fun. There's something about these movies, the short running time, the identikit characters and the sheer ridiculousness of it all which makes them so entertaining. There's a sense of innocence to them, in amongst the murder and breasts, that you just don't get much of in modern horror. It's a shame that the only thing to survive until now is the hairstyles.

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