Torn Hearts (2022)

The music industry is a nasty, fickle beast. Discrimination based on gender, race, and physical appearance is very much a major part of the money machine of the music execs. The Country Music industry is probably much more pronounced in this unwillingness to see their songwriters and artists as anything else other than products that they can sell, remaining very white, very male dominated, and very sexist. There is a reason why the addiction rates, mental health struggles and suicides are so prevalent in the music biz, and its because of the lengths artists must go to, just to remain relevant and employable. Country music has a lot of Evangelical Christian ideology, pandering to outdated, secular, tropes, ‘’traditional’’ heterosexual ideals, and a hell of a lot of tight jeans and cowboy boots. The casting couch isn’t reserved for the movie producers, and there are compromises that a woman must make with her own values and morals, if she wants to become the next big thing in the long line of young ingenues waiting for their star to rise.

Torn Hearts is the story of two young singers who are trying to get their big break in country music, spurred on by their love of their tragic musical heroes The Duchess Sisters. When one of them manages to find out the address of the surviving sister. They convince the reclusive icon to record a song with them, unaware of the lengths they will have to go to in their pursuit of fame.

After seeing a few scathing reviews of the film, I really didn’t have high hopes for this horror, but I was pleasantly surprised by the decent original score, and the undeniable vocal talent of the two lead actresses Abby Quinn and Alexiss Lemire.

Katey Sagal steals the show as the overbearing and psychotic Harper Dutch, is this slow burner of a Southern Gothic Horror. With a mix of psychological torture, and genuine heartfelt melodrama; it often has something of the made for TV movie quality about it but is carried by some real solid performances by the three female protagonists.

With clever commentary of the sexism of the industry patriarchy, Torn Hearts is a sometimes-clunky, always caustic tale of jealousy, love and loss, echoed in the haunting score. If Neon Demon met Mindy McCready and hung out in a dilapidated old mansion, you would be close to this film. The dialogue is measured and cutting; and although it doesn’t quite meet the heights you have been given to expect with the bitter intensity of the build-up; I feel like it has the makings of a cult classic.

Although it lacks a certain originality in the story telling, Torn Hearts is really worth the watch if you like your whiskey neat, your leading ladies bitter, and something pretty to sing along to while the fake blood spurts up the wall.

The Perfect Host (2010)

When you are little, you are told by parents and teachers to respect authority and that if you are ever in trouble, to run to a police officer. Sadly, you can’t count on those rules that you are taught as a child, as not every person in uniform wants to help you and can use the ‘’good guy’’ persona to hurt you. Derek Chauvin wore a mask. He pretended to be a protector and used his mask of uniformed ‘’respectability’’ to abuse, harass and eventually murder those he was duty bound to safeguard. And the heart-breaking thing is that he is not the first, the worst, or the last of his kind.

We all wear masks to fool people. We smile when we are angry, we feign interest when we are bored, we are the life and soul of the party when we secretly want to be at home with our pets and a boxset; but not every mask is a placatory tool, and not every person deceives with intent, because we never really know anyone really. Your mother may not see the mask you show to your friends, your friends may not see the one you put on for your beau, and your co-workers probably never see anything other than the professional demeanour you want to display to get by.

Some of us do not swear or curse in front of family, wanting them to see us as polite and a credit to our parentage, and then drop the f-bomb like a sailor on shore leave when we are with our mates at the bar. We do not get to see everything, even when with the person you are closest to in the world, you will still put on a show to make them happy. Ironically, it is human nature to act like a chameleon for most of our social interactions.

You cannot trust what people choose to show you, only what they show you when they think that no one is watching. It is a cynical view of the world, but every day someone in authority proves my theory.

The Perfect Host is about a hapless, and desperate bank robber, who, while injured and on the run, preys upon the hospitality of a man, under the pretence of a shared connection. Unfortunately for him, he isn’t the only one with something to hide.

I cannot stress this enough – The Perfect Host is an absolute barnstormer of a horror/thriller. David Hyde Pierce is a tour de force of creepy, bizarre, and hilarious insanity, stealing every single scene of this film. Totally surprising in every way, as the viewer you are never quite sure where you stand, as every twist and turn takes you on a pleasantly, dark and sometimes ridiculous rollercoaster, that makes this one of the standout films of the last couple of decades. Clayne Crawford is an excellent foil to Hyde Pierce’s flamboyance, giving just the right amount of balance to the unpredictability of the script.

This darkly comic two hander is superbly delivered, with a slick and glossy feel, that is a true breath of fresh air. It isn’t twee, or hackneyed, and doesn’t take itself seriously at all; which surprisingly amps up the creep factor a little more. Also, a cameo from the late Helen Reddy, as the nosy neighbour is a nice little touch.

Do try this at home – you won’t be bored watching this.

The Twilight Zone: Try, Try

Romance is a fine line. So much of those supposedly grand and charming gestures in books, plays, films and television are, when you honestly think about it, manipulative, controlling, and while reality would be a positive parade of red flags in a relationship.

Behaviours such as pre arranging a ‘’Meet Cute’’ so that your intended target thinks you’ve randomly encountered each other in a fairy tale encounter, or engineering a change to the love interest’s work schedule or classes to align your proximity to that person to achieve your goal. Stalking behaviours are normalised, even fetishized (hiring a private eye to find a girl he saw and liked: Sleepless In Seattle), and the takeaway from these toxic behaviours are that people are trophy’s to be won, crushes are there to be moved like chess pieces. Romantic partners are tricked with false representations of their mate’s, with coercive control, and emotional abuse, wrapped up in platitudes of ‘’I can change him/her’’, or ‘’You only hurt the one’s you love most’’.

Centuries old vampires creeping into underaged girl’s bedrooms to watch them sleep (Twilight), middle aged men catfishing women who they know in real life would never reciprocate their romantic overtures (You’ve Got Mail),  Men threatening to commit suicide if a girl doesn’t agree to go on a date (The Notebook), a man paying for exclusive ‘’use’’ of a sex worker, throwing her back on the streets, and then deciding to keep her (Pretty Woman).

The idea that ‘’no’’ means ‘’try harder’’, and that persistence is the key to a person’s heart, is a terrible thing to promote in any media form, because CONSENT IS EVERYTHING. Weird Science is considered an eighties classic, but it is literally about two creepy oversexed boys who create a woman for their personal use, which is frankly, horrific on every level.  There are a lot of issues with the issues of consent in these sort of ‘’Cutesy/silly/goofy comedies’’ as many of these representations of love involve a protagonist who either pursues a love interest using a false identity (Some Like It Hot, The Importance of Being Ernest, Revenge of the Nerds, Wedding Crashers), creates a false narrative of a relationship to a person who is at a mental disadvantage (While You Were Sleeping, 50 First Dates) and making them your slave (Overboard), using a situation to your advantage gaslighting your amore with surreptitious acts that gradually destroy their sense of self (She’s All That, Pretty in Pink, Can’t Buy Me Love, How to Lose a Guy In 10 Days); but the mother of ALL creepy, criminal and psychotic examples of toxicity in the Rom Com is without doubt, Mrs Doubtfire. If you read an article in newspaper about a man who dressed as a female to insinuate himself into his ex-wife’s life, spy on his family and under the guise of another person, become her intimate confidante, and destroy her relationship, you would think he was the most obsessively creepy man you had ever heard of. It is such a violation of privacy that you could allow someone into your life who was the very person you had legally uncoupled from in the first place, under the guise of a friend is vile. But hey, who am I to judge these incredibly messed up situational comedies?

The scary part of normalising these actions, is that you compare your real life partners to these fantasy versions of Prince or Princess Charming, and can explain away so many red flags, like intensity and obsession, by saying things like ‘’They just love me so much’’, ‘’Look at what they’ve sacrificed/how much work they’ve put into making me love them’’, or ‘’They can’t live without me!’’, creating co-dependency and a false sense of security while slowly being fenced in by the other person’s emotional manoeuvres .

Jordan Peele’s reboot of The Twilight Zone is an astonishing feat of science fiction, horror and social commentary, that is polished, continuously evolving and beautifully cast. It is not easy to take on such an iconic part of the zeitgeist, while putting a unique spin on it without taking anything away from the original. Peele surpasses those obstacles and creates something that stands on it’s own merits and yet blends seamlessly into the universe that was Rod Sterling’s legacy.

The episode of season 2 entitled ‘’Try, Try’’ starring Topher Grace and Kylie Bunbury is a masterpiece of television, and a stark social commentary of the ‘’nice guy defence’’. A man seemingly encounters a woman at random, discovering they have an astonishing connection, and much in common. Maybe a little too much. Of course, it is a concept that has been done before, but this version, was one I found to be an excellent take on this particular niche subgenre.

In the beginning it is a beautifully, quirky romance; Boy Meets Girl, Boy Impresses Girl With His Intuitive Responses to Girl’s Every Thought, which should be sweet, but then it gets strange, and then it gets frightening.

Topher Grace is masterful in his portrayal of the nice, funny guy, who slowly loses his patience with things not quite going his way, and letting his mask fall, first insidiously, and then dramatically. Kylie Bunbury is every inch the Final Girl, who does not conform, is not easily placated, who questions and uses caution, and reveals her own inner strength, with a believability that is rare in any medium, let alone TV. Definitely an actress to watch.

This episode spoke to me as a woman on every level, as I think most female’s can relate to having a friend or a kindred spirit who you thought was genuine, but was only pretending to be interested in your feelings while just wanting to get in your pants. It feels like a huge betrayal, no matter how many times it happens, but for some reason, you never expect it. Your perception of your life is a purely selfish one, for instance, if you presented yourself as a friend to someone but in time become resentful because that’s ‘’all’’ you are, that is not on the other person. You are not being ‘’friend zoned’’ because to have that happen, you must have been a true friend in the first place. People are not props in your personal production, they are stars of their very own show, and if all you turn out to be for the is an ill received cameo or guest appearance, then that’s showbiz, baby.

I have said it before, but we all know that there is nothing more frightening than the mundane, and the unexpected darkness that lies beneath the surface of everyday relationships  I would take monsters and the paranormal over incels and self-proclaimed ‘’nice guys’’ any day of the week.

The Séance (2021)

Well, boils, ghouls, and non binary entities; it’s been a minute, eh? Unfortunately, I have been wrestling with the dreaded C word again and it’s taken me a while to get my groove back. That being said, I’m alive and I am definitely grateful, because I know there are people who weren’t as lucky. So a belated but Happy 2022, and I hope it is healthy and full of whatever your heart desires.

Back to business, right?

So everyone has wondered what happens when we finally kick the bucket. Every religion has a brochure in their books of paradise or purgatory, to keep you on the deity approved track, and stop you from stepping outside of their human written guidelines. You don’t have to believe in any of this to wonder though, and the only thing we know for sure, is that we will not know until we get there.

Some people just want reassurance that their loved ones or fur babies, will be safe wherever they end up, because it gives them a little bit of comfort; and others just want to be turned off like a light switch when its over, and that’s cool too, because whatever gets you through the drudgery of human existence is a personal choice for everyone. It’s the Schrodinger’s Cat of life, and all theories are fair game, I guess.

The fact is, that as a species we are obsessed with the idea of life after death, and there is a billion-dollar industry of psychics/mediums and spiritualists to prove it. Personal beliefs aside, there are a lot of people making bank from the grief and loneliness of individuals who are desperate to receive a sign, or a message that someone they care about is still around. I am not debunking all these purveyors of psychic counsel as frauds, nor am I convinced that the odds of a spiritual switchboard directing genuine words from the other side are going to be high; but I have seen a lot of people be taken in by cold reading, leading questions and cheap parlour tricks, to know that there are a LOT of predators in the industry, taking advantage of the vulnerability of people in mourning.

The Séance is well, just what it says on the tin. The film begins at the home of a renowned medium, where he is holding his regular séance. He talks every attendee through their doubts and fears and manages to deftly turn most skeptics around the table into believers, bar one annoyingly inquisitive guest. She wants to get to the bottom of all his ‘’tricks’’, and is determined to be as intrusive as possible, to prove that this man is a fake. But is he really the charlatan she believes him to be?

This is a film that surprised me in how much I enjoyed it. It doesn’t seem to be too original a concept at first glance, but the two lead actors really stole the show. The Séance is a clever and understated little indie movie that relies heavily on character dialogue to create the atmosphere. It is witty, slow burning, creepy, goodness at its best, and Michael Minto and Miranda Skerman’s comedic chemistry, are what makes this a pure diamond in low budget heaven.

With the single location format, and well executed scares, The Séance gives echoes of the 1972 film Sleuth, and even a smidgen of Hitchcock, to deliver a fresh take on a tired horror sub-genre. The script is tongue in cheek, while still creating the eerie ambiance that gives way to a much darker tonal shift for the payoff.

For the skeptics who are not a fan of the sort of film that feels like a one act play from the thirties; give The Séance a chance and it may just turn you into a believer.

Take Back The Night (2021)

Apologies for the long hiatus, but I had the misfortune of being one of the lucky double jabbed to catch Covid anyway, which has taken me a little time to recover from, so I’m very happy to still be here, to write about important things like horror films.

This week a serving British police officer was given a rare full life tariff for the false arrest, kidnap, rape and murder of Sarah Everard. In the same week, a retired Parisian police officer took his own life and confessed to being a wanted serial killer and rapist. I wish I was surprised by any of this, but to be honest with you I am just unbelievably sad.

The #NotAllMen brigade are out in force on Twitter, as an argument to the epidemic of rapes and violence against women, and to them I say this; Not ALL germs make you ill, but you still want every person in charge of your food production and preparation to wash their hands, don’t you? It isn’t about ALL MEN, it is about the potential of danger in all men, and not being able to see where the danger may lie for us.

I don’t know a single woman or girl who hasn’t at one time in her life, been abused, mentally or physically by a man in some way, myself included. Whether it’s being groped in a crowded pub or train, patted on the backside by a stranger, having a man expose his genitals to you, or much, much worse, we all have a story to tell, whether we realised it at the time or not. Misogynistic behaviours are so ingrained in our society, it has just been accepted as a part of life.

 Women have grown up following these important rules: You don’t walk home alone at night, you text or call your friends to let them know you got home safely after a night out (and vice versa), you never leave your drink unattended in a bar or club, and you always, ALWAYS let your people know where you are.

Yet still, the victim’s choices and lifestyles are the one’s questioned in rape and abuse cases. What were you wearing? Did you abuse substances? Were you drunk? Are you promiscuous? Did you give him mixed signals or lead him on?

We need to raise our children to know the power of the word NO. NO is a complete sentence and needs no further explanation. You do not need to placate someone for fear of hurting their feelings or seeming like a bitch. Be a Bitch! You do not need to pretend to be married or gay, to get some one to leave you alone. You do not owe anyone anything ever.

What is going to have to be essential is getting rid of that ‘’boys will be boys’’ or ‘’banter’’ bullshit. Men need to shut that shit down immediately when they see it in their friends or when they look in the mirror. Men need to remember that women are not objects, or sex toys, or obligated to be polite to you. You earn respect. You don’t demand it. And you never take what is not given freely.

Take Back the Night is the story of Jane Doe, a hedonistic young artist who, after making sure an intoxicated stranger got home safely, is attacked by a monster. Unfortunately, despite her injuries and clear trauma, Jane is treated like the criminal not the victim. Between the offensive line of questioning by the detective, and her psychological history, she is vilified both by her family and the media. Jane is determined to prove that there is a menace lurking in her neighbourhood and warn the women around her that the threat is very real.

Honestly, I wasn’t really in the mood when I put this film on, but it had me in the first few minutes by the throat. It is a clever, thoughtful and extremely powerful film about violence against women, and the invisible danger we face each day. With an entirely female cast, it is beautifully acted by Emma Fitzpatrick, and though the micro budget is evident in the overall look of the film; the rough FX really worked for me as more of a vague representation of the threat of sexual assault, than an actual creature.

I’ve seen some poor reviews for Take Back the Night, but I felt it was intelligent and sensitive to the material that it was covering. I had a visceral reaction to some of the dialogue and the interaction between characters as they try to communicate their trauma, because I recognised my own friends and family, and indeed myself, in their stories. These are real life dangers and experiences woven into a story of a supernatural monster; but the horror in this film was that it did not feel like a fantastical plot, because I think a lot of women would identify some of their own experiences in the storytelling – and that my friends, should frighten us all. It isn’t a pessimistic view on the matter, though, quite the opposite in fact; as the take away from watching, is that women are stronger together, and if we support and believe each other, we can take back the power for ourselves.

The Little Girl Who Lives Down the Lane (1976)

The male gaze (a term first coined by Laura Mulvey in “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema” ) in horror is extremely prevalent; and though the final girl trope in horror is a feminist tale of a women taking back control, the lascivious, lingering shots of a fleeing victim’s breasts, buttocks and legs, or the strategically ripped and clinging clothes of a battered and bruised heroine is counterintuitive to the survival mentality. While reducing a woman to mere body parts, it fetishizes her victimisation.

When a kidnap victim is portrayed in film, she has perfectly smooth legs, and hairless armpits, as if her captor has been providing her with a ladyshave during her ordeal, to satisfy the male spectator, rather than provide an accurate depiction of what it truly means to be at the mercy of someone’s cruelty.

Women who are deemed ‘’the ugly friend’’ are dispatched with far more quickly than the sexually confident popular girls, who have lingering camera shots of their lithe and buxom figures as they are penetrated with phallic weapons. Underage girls are portrayed by twenty something ingenues so that the audience feels comfortable with their sexual exploitation on film. It is very clever in its surreptitiousness, and yet, once you notice it, as a woman, it is disturbing in a way that is entirely separate from the fake gore and serial killers.

From Hitchcock to Eli Roth, voyeurism is at the heart of horror cinema. Watching women shower, undress or have sex is always a precursor to a violent death, as promiscuity is always punished, and it somehow becomes a cleansing ritual for the male attacker to have been made to feel sexually aroused by the mere existence of an attractive woman.

Now the Little Girl Down the Lane is a particularly uncomfortable chapter in the exploration of the Male Gaze, as Jodie Foster and her character were an incredibly young thirteen, and Foster, though a tour de force even then, has since disowned the film, feeling that it crossed the boundaries of exploitation.

Even for its time, the film is seedy and extremely disturbing to watch. It follows thirteen-year-old Ryan who is living alone in a rented house, covering for her absentee parents, while trying to protect herself from a Martin Sheen’s particularly aggressive paedophile who is determined to make her his next victim.

Based on the book by Laird Koenig, The Little Girl that Lives Down the Lane is both heart-breaking and extremely disturbing. Ryan is portrayed as a worldly, cultured girl, who has maturity beyond her years; but her age, stature and obvious fragility belie the act she puts on to protect herself. Jodie Foster is mesmerising and steals every scene with the gravitas of someone much older, but her tiny frame compared to the other actors make it extremely hard to go along with the old ‘’its ok, because she is so mature for her age’’ schtick the film is trying to sell you. The nude scene is so unnecessarily exploitative that I must admit made me extremely queasy and was difficult to sit through. Foster’s older sister doubled for her in the scene, but the jarring nature of seeing a little girl’s body look much more mature naked, is pushing the boundaries of human decency in a big way for me.

It is a shame because the story is truly excellent. A strong little girl fighting to keep her independence while faced with so many secrets to keep and enemies to be wary of. Martin Sheen is truly terrifying as the repulsive Frank Hallet, giving a no holds barred performance against his teenage co-star in their dark game of predator vs prey. The acting is outstanding and the storyline rewarding if you can stomach the uncomfortable themes of paedophilia, grief, simulated animal abuse, and sexual assault; but if you do not feel a little grubby after watching it, you wouldn’t be human.

Little Girl Who Lives Down the Lane is truly a product of its time, and though the finished product is undeniably interesting, there are no excuses for how they went about getting there.

Spiral (2019)

It’s been a while boils and ghouls, but I’m back for a Samhain surprise.

Whatever you’re doing, wherever you’re going, stay safe and stay away from stupid.

Marginalisation is silent. It is invisible. It happens everywhere no matter the nationality or socioeconomic background. It is being passed over for jobs, mortgages, loans or housing. It is having your civil and criminal disputes, obstacles and rights treated as insignificant, or being gaslighted into thinking that you are overreacting to very real attacks or slights.

It is being excluded socially, educationally, financially, politically and medically. It is being disadvantaged through no fault of your own, being the subject of stigma simply for belonging to a certain race, nationality, religion, gender or sexuality. It is racism, ableism, sexism, ageism, bigotry and ignorance; and it is fluid like time. In different periods of history marginalised groups have been blamed for all the  ills and failings in society. The Jews were scapegoated for everything from the killing of Jesus, the Black Death and poverty, Muslims are blamed for terrorism and extremism, refugees and immigrants have historically been blamed for job scarcity and rising crime statistics, homosexuals have been blamed for AIDS and the breaking down of the so-called ‘’traditional family unit’’ (whatever that is), and people of colour are targeted for just about every other damn thing that you can think of.

Its clever misdirection and propaganda by the people in power, to distract you from the fact that They (Politicians, The Rothschilds, The Koch Brothers, Murdoch, Big Banks, Big Pharma, The Media..), are creating the chaos, the misery and poverty; and are sneaking through new laws and loopholes to benefit the capitalist agenda while you are turning to your neighbour, worrying what they have that you don’t.

Your neighbour claiming disability benefits, or food stamps, is not the problem; it’s the magicians in power making elephants in the room appear invisible, right under your nose.

Spiral is a surprisingly astute horror that deals with marginalisation and discrimination, and giving your horror bone a delicious tickle with the lesson.

In the nineties, a same sex couple move into a quaint little neighbourhood in a small town with their teenaged daughter, while navigating the little microaggressions directed at their unconventional little family unit. When one half of the couple begins to notice that there is a dark side to the friendly surface of their neighbours, a chilling path of paranoia and intimidation threatens to tear their family apart.

Spiral is a great film on every level. Yes, it has that Rear Window cliché, of a lone male lead, looking for evidence of what he knows , and the paranoia that sets in when you spend too much time on your own; but I liked the modern angle, and the film has an excellent lead in Jeffrey Bowyer-Chapman who brought a refreshing energy to the role of Malik, and pretty much carried the film.

It’s been accused of being boring and mostly filler, but I enjoyed the meandering creep factor,  echoing those kitsch TV horror mysteries of the seventies, that I always had a soft spot for. For me, there is no greater horror than doubting your own reality, and not knowing whether the threat is imagined, or coming from inside the house.

It definitely deserves more love than it’s getting, and in these turbulent times, it’s always worth being reminded that you can’t trust always trust a friendly façade, and just because someone is different to your normal, doesn’t mean that they are anything other than human.

The Hunt (2020)

We are at the point now where you just don’t get to opt out of political discussion. Every facet of your life is controlled by political choice, from your reproductive options, your basic civil rights and your economic standing.

Politics in 2020 is not optional, because it is a matter of morality. Do you think that every person should have equity, and be able to access the same opportunities? Or do you think that your race, your gender, your postcode, and your religion makes you better? Is your privilege something that you wield as a weapon over others, or do you use it to exact change to make everyone’s life better?

This is not a game (not that I ever thought it was), because right now we are living in a fascist dystopia. We have incels, racists, rapists, and criminals leading us, and facts are becoming a choice rather than something that is proven. Conspiracy theories, anti-vaxxers, ‘’presidential’’ prescriptions of drugs that he has financial interests in, that result in the deaths of those who take his word as law.

Police and private militia are attacking their own citizens rather than address the crimes committed, and Trump is creating his personal SS, without any intervention. A Politian is talking about moving elections and refusing to leave the White House if he loses. These are the words and actions of a dictator, and a truly deranged individual, and still his cult grows.

You don’t get to sit on the fence, when history taught us what looking the other way, can create. The holocaust happened because people turned a blind eye when it was not going to affect them. Power hungry megalomaniacs are never happy with one victory, and are always looking to conquer more, greedy for your rights, and thirsty for the blood of their opposition.

Trump is not some toddler with no concept of his destructive policies; he is clever, and has the support of people far more intelligent, and the strings of his Russian benefactor are never loose enough for him to truly slip the leash. He knows what he is doing, and however his presidency ends; it will take decades to rebuild all that he has destroyed.

Extremism exists on both sides of the penny, but if you are fighting for the rights of others, instead of your own; rather than throwing a tantrum because you have to wear a mask to do your shopping, then I know what side I am standing on.

The Hunt begins with twelve strangers coming round from a drug induced haze in the middle of nowhere, with the dawning realisation that they are going to be the prey in a human hunt. Pursued by a group of elite liberals, the only advantage is their hunter’s underestimation of their capability under pressure.

I honestly was not expecting much from this film, as the human hunting genre is predictable and done to death, but The Hunt was a pleasant surprise.

Darkly funny, political satire, the film takes aim at the spectrum of politics and conspiracy theorists and the damage that internet rumours and cancel culture can cause. Parody without farce, this is an equal opportunity roast. The star-studded cast is absolutely stellar, with Betty Gilpin’s tour de force as Crystal serving you everything you want from your final girl and more.

This is an excellent horror for the modern age, taking swipe at the nuances of the political zeitgeist with humour and plenty of gore. A Battle Royale of bastards, that makes brave observations of the current climate, with a sardonic smile, it is highly entertaining, without becoming ridiculous. If you watch one film this year to distract from the final season of earth and its shark jumping craziness, make it THIS.

Summer of ’84 (2018

Well, another day, another person of colour brutally murdered by the police in the US.  I don’t say that lightly, I say it with disgust and disappointment at the so-called American justice system.

It took widespread riots, international outcry, and more bloodshed for the police to even arrest the perpetrators. If you have seen this horrific video, then you will have seen the police officer proudly staring into the camera, while squeezing the life from George Floyd with his knee. He was enjoying it. This person is part of an institution that is supposed to protect and serve the community, and like the epidemic of these psychopaths wielding badges; abused that power.

Charged with third degree murder, for murdering a man whose crime was allegedly using a fake $20 note. To say this is a pathetic attempt at giving justice for George Floyd’s family is a cruel joke. It is a cynical attempt to calm the unrest in the community, that is too little and far too late.

The most shocking aspect of this tragedy, is not the fact that Derek Chauvin has a history of murdering people of colour on the job, and a long list of police brutality accusations; no, it’s the fact that Chauvin KNEW George Floyd and had worked with him as a bouncer. I am no legal eagle, but I’m pretty sure that fact alone, proves premeditation and intent.

Eight to ten percent of male homicides in America are committed by a police officer. That is a shocking statistic, but sadly does not surprise me. It sickens me.

African Americans are five times more likely to be incarcerated than whites, and the disparity between the sentences that people of colour receive for similar crimes committed by Caucasian offenders is stark.

What is it about law enforcement that attracts and produces so many racists and murderers? What is it about the ‘thin blue line’ bullshit that makes them swarm around to protect the very worst of them, to spit in the face of morality? When you start the argument of ‘Not all cops’, you fall at the first hurdle. Because a good person would not stand by while their co-worker is abusing their power, targeting people based on race, and committing crimes in uniform. That makes you just as guilty in my eyes. The police should be held to a higher standard because they carry weapons that cause death, and if you can’t trust someone not to protect and serve the entire community, you cannot trust them.

It is not surprising that an organisation that has origins in the slave trade, using the creation of racially targeted laws, like Jim Crow, to control their unpaid labour, segregate them from the general Populus, disenfranchise and negate any progress that the African American community may achieve in their endeavours. The fish rots from the head, and the police in the United States are rotten from the top down. If you honestly believe that all people are equal, and consider yourself to be a good person, then you have to tear it all down and rebuild the trust that has eroded through violence and death, and begin with culpability and acknowledgement of all that has led to this.

If you put your trust in a police officer, you are placing your life in their hands, and with the current track record, you’d be a fool to let a uniform cloud your judgement.

Summer of ’84 is just the sort of film that can distract you from the satirical dystopian nightmare that currently resembles our normality.

A group of kids suspect that their friendly neighbourhood police officer is a child killer, and spend their summer trying to obtain evidence of his crimes. Everyone else treats the community cop as a hero, so it is going to be dangerous and difficult to convince the adults otherwise.

This film is a shiny gem in a world of grey, serious horror. It is the Goonies, mashed up with Stranger Things, Rear Window and Lady in White. It’s easy to dismiss kid centred horror films as cutesy coming of age movies, but Summer of ’84 may just change your mind.

Filled with 80’s nostalgia and references, with an excellent cast of young actors, it has a stellar soundtrack, and is cinematically slick, giving you a well-paced, nostalgic thriller with an excellent ending. Genuinely creepy moments, and a tongue in cheek, kitsch approach, this is definitely going in my classics list.

I really hope there is going to be a sequel as we need more fun in horror, and Summer of ’84 gives that burst of energy that has been lacking lately.

The moral of the story is don’t give your trust in someone because they flash a shiny badge, put your trust in someone when they earn it.

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Retreat (2011)

Bonjour friends, it’s been a minute I know, but the ‘Rona makes mere mortals of us all, unfortunately. I hope you are all safe, and well, and most of all, being sensible; not acting like those idiots in a zombie film that put everyone else at risk!

Let us talk about the pandemic shaped elephant in the room, shall we?

I feel like if this was an episode of the Twilight Zone it would be a cautionary tale of how something like us, does not, in fact, level the playing field, but rather highlights ( in huge neon lights) the stark difference between rich and poor, and the monstrous failures of capitalism.

There is a big difference between someone who is in isolation and lockdown in a large home with a spacious garden, to a single mother on Universal Credit with three kids, stuck in a high rise council flat, who has to use lifts and stairs that a hundred other families are using. There are elderly, vulnerable and disabled, who have no way to do their shopping without help, who live too far from a well-stocked shop, because people who have more means are panic buying essential items and leaving crumbs for those who really need it.

Money gets you healthcare when people who are dying are too scared to go to a hospital, because they are terrified of the financial consequences of asking for treatment.

Worse still, there are those who are not legal citizens who fear the repercussions of medical help, which could lead to deportations, or being sent to the internment camps/detention centres of fascist governments.

There is also a feeling of powerlessness, knowing that the people in charge are acting like they auditioning for a remake of  Keystone Cops, and being damn sure that we aren’t being told the full story; and the real implications that the aftermath of this situation will have on society as a whole.

For instance, the UK media has been reporting on the total mortality rate, has only been counting hospital deaths, and until the last few days the figures have not included those in care homes and the community in general.

There are even accusations of coroners being pressured into declaring suspected Covid 19 deaths as pneumonia or the flu.

The Conservative Government have ignored offers of UK companies to supply ventilators and other PPE stock to fix the desperate shortages, and have instead given out huge contracts to the likes of Dyson and their other Tory donor cronies, who so far have provided nothing but a smile when they took the bung.

Our companies are actually exporting PPE stock to other countries because our Government is blocking them from supplying lifesaving equipment to our NHS workers, who are working themselves to the bone, and putting their own lives on the line to give critical care to others.

I have friends and family in the NHS and the care industry who are working without proper equipment and protections, while people who voted in this shower of shite, who have systematically dismantled our health service; make empty gestures of clapping for our key workers every Thursday night.

Our society must ask the difficult questions and hold the ruling class to account. Everyone deserves the right to life, and if the Coronavirus has taught us anything, it’s that the lowest paid workers are the ones who keep civilisation functioning. It is the nurses, bin men, cleaners, retail workers and farmers that the likes of Bojo, Trump and all their capitalist ilk would not survive without.

You are kept in the dark to keep you scared and docile, because once we all open our eyes to who is really in charge, they will not have anything to bargain with.

Retreat is the story of a grief-stricken couple, with a relationship at breaking point, who go to a remote island retreat to work through their issues. They are interrupted when a young stranger in military garb washes ashore, with news of a viral outbreak sweeping through Europe, and he has a gun.

Honestly, this is one of the most underrated films out there. Cillian Murphy, Thandie Newton and Jamie Bell are incredible leads. Retreat plays out like a quite storm; intense, slow, and moody, with a crescendo of an ending, that I really enjoyed.

Surprisingly apt for these strange days, this film relies on strong characters and dialogue to carry you through, and it works. It is a taut, indie, thriller that scratches that conspiracy theorist itch in me, and grips you until the end credits.

Make time for this in your lockdown binge watch and you will not be disappointed. If nothing else, it will convince you to #StayHome