Movie Review: Alien: Romulus

23 Friday Aug 2024

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Prequel, sequels, threequels, and whatnumberisthisoneagain-quels… has there been a more wildly heartbreaking body of work than the Alien franchise?

From 2 absolute master class films, to a litany of dross to follow, we come to it again and again hoping this next instalment – whatever it may be timeline wise – will be different. And no amount of pre-hype or pedigree (can you say David Fincher boys & girls?) seems to make a scrap of difference.  They either range from “it was ok” to “what the fuck was that?”

So when yet another one is announced and the trailer hits the socials – we hold our collective breaths and say “well… it looks slick. But so did Prometheus…”. And then we see the name of the director and we dare to do the one thing years of alien vs predator movies told us not to.  Hope.

Fede Álvarez is the helmsman of The Girl in the Spiders Web, Don’t Breathe and the Evil Dead remake.  All decent outings with Don’t Breathe a very notable one.

And with his name on the credits for this Xenomorph outing, will he do the impossible and create the spiritual 3rd film (ALL THE OTHERS DON’T COUNT) that the Alien trilogy cries out for?

Can this auteur from Uruguay carve out a name worthy of being mentioned in the same breath as Cameron and Scott?

Let’s dig in, shall we?

Firstly, there is not a Romulan to be seen, so that’s a letdown straight away…

Secondly, this venture takes place some 20 years after the end of Alien, so Ripley is still floating around out there asleep with her cat in a capsule, and that’s interesting to think about.

Because one of the more annoying aspects of this franchise is that post Aliens, all the instalments (crossovers included) bar Three & Resurrection are PREQUELS.  Which means they continually have to retcon (in some way or another) humanities “first” interaction with the Xenomorph.

In fact, it’s gotten to the point that when Ripley & crew first encounter the Alien onboard the Nostromo, they’re basically the only humans who HAVEN’T met it yet!

But I digress.  Set up wise this film takes place on a mining moon, laced in the gritty low light aesthetic that is a moniker for all these movies now.  Life for the workers there is basically indentured, so ways to get off-planet are few and far between.

Thus when an opportunity presents itself in the shape of a seemingly abandoned orbiting spacecraft that for some reason NO ONE on the surface of this world can see other than a bunch of space Gen Z-ers, who happen to have a working spaceship (that belonged to their now dead parents, because the mines are filled with space asbestos, apparently) they see a way out of their bondage.  Because their ship has everything a group of kids need to travel to another world EXCEPT Cryosleep capsules.  Something this mystery spaceship above must surely have…

And thus we have our blueprint to get the ball rolling.  1 – Set a cast, 2 – throw them into a contained location, and then 3 – sprinkle them with Facehuggers. 

4 – rinse.

The how and the why there are Facehuggers on this mystery ship is a fine enough idea…but for the purposes of exploring more abstract and interesting observations, we shall leave that for you to discover on your own time.  For now, I will list off the immediate thoughts that struck me whilst watching this movie.

One – all the other Alien filmmakers have tipped their hat to Ridley’s and Cameron’s outings, naturally, but we are now entering an era of films from storytellers who were children when those first 2 flicks came out, and Álvarez is clearly printing out a love letter to them both with Romulus.  It is littered with numerous nods, ranging from set design, to television computer screens, 70’s 8-bit GFX, sound FX, Pink Floyd lighting, and of course, a perpetual motion beak dipping bird.

And that’s just the tip of the “let’s-see-what-else-we-can-jam-in-there-iceberg”.  

Two – it suffers – as you would expect – from the “Zombie Conundrum”.  Ie: We, the audience, know what the peril is and how it works.  The characters in the movie do not.  So we wait patiently whilst they play catch up, which means the film burns through valuable attention grabbing time.  There are of course creative ways around this – the best one is to show something new about the Alien’s “process”, but with so many films under the bridge, this is very difficult without completely retconning its history.  And that violates our list of what makes a great sequel (see below).

Three – The Sequel Checklist.  Does this hit it?  For fans of our reviews, The SOH Sequel checklist (AKA: Things you need to make a great sequel) looks like this…

  • Does it respect the first film and not shit on it?
  • Does it “fail” to be carbon copy of the first film?
  • Does it add/expand on the legend/universe started by the first film?
  • Does it still stay within the SAME SPIRIT established by the first film?
  • Does it stand on its own 2 feet as a standalone film?

To which answer wise, I give it three yeses’, one kinda (but not really) and a sorta.

The Prognosis:

As to what answer goes with what point, I’ll leave that up to you to see & agree.  For Romulus is definitely worth checking out, but ultimately as a story it could have taken a few coins out it’s “homage” budget and drop them into its “make em care & they’ll scare” budget.

For the film only has 2 memorable leads (the actual leads) who are played by Cailee Spaeny and David Jonsson.  A brother and sister duo with a twist.  Or it would have been had the trailer not given it away.  So that means with the rest of the cast, you’re kinda just waiting for them to get ganked.  Or not.  But you’re not holding your breath too hard when they do.  Or don’t.

They have one cool action set piece that is original.  Although several scientist friends of mine have already lamented its floating inaccuracy.  And for all its tributes towards the first 2 films (the only 2 worth tributing) it does dips into a controversial idea first explored in Alien Resurrection, and to its credit, actually pulls it off.  At least visually.

Overall, its not the spiritual threequel I’m still looking for (and I accept, may never find) but I will definitely be keen to see Alien Klingon Homeworld when it comes out. (See what I did there nerds?)

  • Antony Yee

“Coalescing Madness: A Retrospective Look at Pyro… The Thing Without a Face (1964)”

23 Friday Aug 2024

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Pyro… The Thing Without a Face is a lesser-known entry in the psychological horror-thriller genre that attempts to carve its niche by blending elements of revenge, disfigurement, and the madness that ensues. Directed by Julio Coll, the film stars Barry Sullivan as Vance Pierson, an American engineer whose life spirals into a nightmare of revenge after a tragic love affair.

The film draws upon a rich tapestry of influences, coalescing into a narrative that’s both familiar and unsettling. One can trace the roots of Pyro back to the brooding atmosphere of classic noir, with shades of films like The Big Heat (1953), where the theme of vengeance is just as central. In The Big Heat, Glenn Ford’s character pursues a relentless quest for revenge after the murder of his wife, setting a precedent for the kind of obsession that drives Vance Pierson in Pyro. This thematic coagulometry creates a bridge between genres, infusing Pyro with a sense of dread and inevitability.

The film also owes a debt to the disfigurement horror trope, seen in earlier features like Eyes Without a Face (1960) and The Phantom of the Opera (1962). In these films, physical deformity becomes a symbol of internal turmoil and madness, a concept that Pyro adopts with Vance’s disfigurement following an act of arson. His transformation into a vengeful figure echoes the pathos of these earlier characters, though it lacks the same depth and psychological complexity.

While Pyro seeks to meld these influences into a cohesive whole, it often falters in execution. The film’s pacing is uneven, and the script occasionally struggles to maintain tension. The character of Vance, though compelling in his descent into madness, doesn’t quite reach the heights of other tragic figures in cinema. Sullivan’s performance is solid, yet the material doesn’t allow him to explore the full range of his character’s psychological unraveling.

Where Pyro does succeed is in its atmosphere. The cinematography captures the stark landscapes and claustrophobic interiors, reflecting Vance’s isolation and obsession. The score, while somewhat generic, complements the film’s darker moments, enhancing the sense of impending doom.

The Prognosis:

In the broader context of horror-thrillers, Pyro… The Thing Without a Face is a film that attempts to build on the foundations laid by its predecessors but ultimately falls short of greatness. Its coagulometry of influences from film noir, revenge thrillers, and disfigurement horror is evident, but the final product is more of a patchwork than a seamless blend. Still, for fans of vintage horror and psychological thrillers, Pyro offers enough intrigue and atmosphere to warrant a watch, even if it doesn’t leave a lasting impact. A solid effort that stands as a curious footnote in the evolution of maniacal cinematic narratives.

  • Saul Muerte

Onibaba: The Demon That Haunts Global Cinema

22 Thursday Aug 2024

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When Onibaba was released in 1964, it quickly carved out a place for itself in the annals of cinema history. Directed by Kaneto Shindō, this Japanese horror film transcended the boundaries of its genre, offering not only a chilling narrative but also a profound exploration of human nature and survival. Set in the war-torn landscapes of 14th-century Japan, Onibaba masterfully weaves elements of horror, eroticism, and drama, creating an atmosphere that is as suffocating as it is haunting.

One of the most remarkable aspects of Onibaba is its cultural resonance. The film draws heavily from Japanese folklore, particularly the legend of the “Onibaba,” a demon woman, which Shindō reinterprets through a lens of realism. The demon mask, central to the film’s terror, has since become iconic, symbolizing the thin veneer between human and monster. This cultural specificity did not, however, limit the film’s appeal. Instead, it enhanced its global impact, as audiences worldwide were captivated by its universal themes of fear, desire, and the struggle for survival.

Globally, Onibaba became a touchstone for filmmakers and cinephiles alike, inspiring a new wave of interest in Japanese cinema. Shindō’s innovative use of sound, with the incessant rustling of reeds and the eerie silence of the swamps, created a soundscape that added to the film’s unsettling atmosphere. This auditory experience, coupled with Kiyomi Kuroda’s stark black-and-white cinematography, influenced a generation of filmmakers, both in Japan and abroad.

The film’s raw portrayal of sexuality and the human condition was groundbreaking at the time, challenging the conventions of both Japanese and Western cinema. Onibaba blurred the lines between horror and art, pushing the boundaries of what was acceptable on screen. This boldness not only solidified its status as a classic but also opened the door for future films to explore similarly taboo subjects with nuance and sensitivity.

Despite its age, Onibaba continues to be a vital piece of cinema history. Its influence can be seen in a range of films, from the psychological horrors of The Babadook to the atmospheric dread of The Witch. Shindō’s masterpiece reminds us that true horror lies not in the supernatural but in the depths of the human soul.

The Prognosis:

With its rich cultural roots and lasting global impact, Onibaba remains a film that both haunts and inspires, earning its place as a significant work of art that transcends the boundaries of genre and geography.

  • Saul Muerte

SUFF 2024 – Movie Review: The Organist (2024)

21 Wednesday Aug 2024

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If ever there was a reason to get behind homegrown cinema then it’s got to be in support of Andy Burkitt’s feature directorial debut, The Organist; this darkly, hilarious take on the underground organ donor industry. At the heart of this surrealist and macabre view is Jack Braddy’s delectable take of down and nearly out grifter and gift of the gab, Greame Sloane. It’s precisely Sloane’s natural persuasive abilities that landed his job as the face and mouthpiece of a organ-procurement organisation. His charm and subtle appeal is all on show from the get-go as he successfully secures a donation from an unwitting suburbanite. From this swift introduction though, the curtain drops and reveals a far sinister movement behind the veil, one that has been building on the trust of such donors to feed a collective of highly financial cannibals. Now Sloane must fight tooth and nail to fight every ounce and fibre of his being that detests the notion of feeding these elite human bloodhounds, battling in a corner that has no way out, but keep on talking. Has Sloane bitten off more than he can chew though?

To watch The Organist, there needs to be some suspension of disbelief as each scenario presented reads as ridiculous as the next, but this in effect is also its charm. It resonates with the Aussie battler appeal with Sloane continuously digging further and further into a pit of despair, and hopelessness. Whether it’s trying to engage with with the hilariously sinister HR rep Tracey (Lena Moon); building up the hopes of a donor recipient’s father, Bruce (Garth Edwards); trying to dissect the mind of the psychopathic cannibal; or fuse or diffuse his connection with would be buddy-yet-potential multiple donor, the suicidal Riley (Luke Fisher). This bromance shared between Sloane and Riley is in part symbiotic, relying on each other’s strengths and seemingly shared beliefs to pull them through to the bitter end. And in doing so, drives the viewers engagement with the feature, willing for hope to shine through this heartachingly bitter string of scenarios.

Burkitt relies on your faith to stick to his vision. In doing so, you are rewarded with a harrowingly, dark and hilariously bleak tale of humanity that may take every part of your body to see it through to the end.

  • Saul Muerte

Catch the screening of The Organist at the Sydney Underground Film Festival at Dendy, Newtown.

Screening times and tickets available below:

SATURDAY 14TH SEPTEMBER – 7.30PM

SUNDAY 15TH SEPTEMBER – 1PM

Hell Hole (2024): A Frack-tured Tale of Lovecraftian Horror and Dark Comedy

21 Wednesday Aug 2024

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Toby Poser and John Adams, the duo behind the 2021 indie hit Hellbender, return to the horror genre with Hell Hole, their latest collaboration streaming on Shudder. With a promising blend of survival thriller, dark comedy, and ecological commentary, the film aims to delve into the horrors lurking beneath both the earth’s surface and the human condition. However, while Hell Hole offers moments of intrigue and unease, it ultimately struggles to fully capitalise on its potential, leaving viewers with a film that feels more like a missed opportunity than a horror classic.

The premise is undeniably compelling. Set in the remote Serbian wilderness, Hell Hole follows an American-led fracking crew that unwittingly unearths a French soldier frozen for over two centuries. Unfortunately for them, this soldier serves as a host for a parasitic, mollusc-like creature that has a taste for human flesh—particularly male flesh. The creature’s Lovecraftian design is one of the film’s highlights, with its slimy, amorphous form and parasitic nature evoking the cosmic horrors that genre fans will appreciate. The concept of an ancient being lying dormant beneath the earth’s crust is rich with potential, and the film taps into this to create a sense of unease and dread.

However, despite this intriguing setup, Hell Hole never quite finds its footing. The film attempts to balance horror with dark comedy, but the humour often feels forced and out of place, detracting from the tension rather than enhancing it. Moments that should be terrifying are undercut by awkward jokes or tonal shifts that leave the audience unsure of how to react. The result is a film that feels uneven, as though it’s unsure whether it wants to be a straight horror or a satirical commentary.

The creature itself, while visually impressive, is underutilised. Its Lovecraftian presence is more hinted at than fully explored, leaving much to be desired in terms of its backstory and true nature. There are moments where the film flirts with the kind of existential dread that Lovecraft’s work is known for, but these moments are fleeting, replaced too quickly by more conventional horror tropes or ill-timed comedic beats.

One of the more interesting aspects of Hell Hole is its commentary on the male-skewed landscape of the fracking crew and, by extension, the larger societal structures they represent. The creature’s preference for male hosts could be seen as a metaphor for the parasitic nature of toxic masculinity, feeding on and destroying those who fall victim to it. Additionally, the film’s ecological message against fracking is clear, but it feels somewhat heavy-handed, lacking the subtlety that could have made it more impactful. Instead of weaving the environmental critique seamlessly into the narrative, Hell Hole often comes across as preachy, pulling viewers out of the story.

The cast, which includes Poser, Adams, Olivera Penunicic, Bruno Veljanovski, and others, delivers solid performances, but they are hampered by a script that doesn’t quite know what to do with them. The characters are thinly drawn, serving more as fodder for the creature than as fully realized individuals. This makes it difficult to become fully invested in their fates, and as a result, the film lacks the emotional weight that could have elevated it above a standard creature feature.

The Prognosis:

Hell Hole is a film with a lot of interesting ideas but an execution that doesn’t quite do them justice. The Lovecraftian elements, dark humour, and ecological commentary all have potential, but they never coalesce into a cohesive whole. For fans of Poser and Adams’ previous work, or for those who enjoy creature features with a twist, Hell Hole might still be worth a watch. However, it’s unlikely to leave a lasting impression, feeling more like a middling entry in the horror genre than a must-see Shudder original.

  • Saul Muerte

Hell Hole will be streaming on Shudder from Fri 23rd Aug.

The Masque of the Red Death (1964): A Gothic Gem with Some Tarnish

17 Saturday Aug 2024

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Roger Corman’s The Masque of the Red Death (1964), featuring the incomparable Vincent Price, is an adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe’s chilling short story. This film, known for its rich Gothic atmosphere and striking visuals, is often celebrated for its ambition and stylistic flair. However, despite its strengths, it has its share of shortcomings that prevent it from reaching the heights of other Corman-Price collaborations.

The film’s plot revolves around the tyrannical Prince Prospero (Vincent Price), who retreats to his castle with a group of nobles to escape the deadly Red Death plague ravaging the countryside. Within the castle’s opulent walls, Prospero indulges in decadent and cruel festivities, believing himself immune to the horrors outside. As the plague encroaches and the masked figure of the Red Death makes its ominous appearance, Prospero’s delusions of grandeur and invincibility are challenged.

Vincent Price, in one of his most memorable roles, delivers a performance that is both sinister and charismatic. His portrayal of Prospero as a sadistic and morally bankrupt nobleman is captivating, adding depth and nuance to a character that could easily have been one-dimensional. Price’s commanding presence and distinctive voice elevate the film, making his scenes the most compelling.

The film’s visual style is one of its standout features. Cinematographer Nicolas Roeg, who would later become a renowned director, brings a lush and vivid palette to the screen. The use of color, particularly in the various rooms of Prospero’s castle, symbolizes different aspects of human experience and emotion, enhancing the film’s thematic depth. The art direction and set design also contribute to the film’s rich Gothic aesthetic, creating a world that is both beautiful and foreboding.

However, The Masque of the Red Death is not without its flaws. The pacing can be uneven, with certain sections feeling overly drawn out and lacking in momentum. Some of the supporting performances are less convincing, and the dialogue occasionally veers into melodrama. These issues detract from the overall impact of the film, making it less cohesive than it could have been.

Despite these drawbacks, the film’s conclusion is powerful and thought-provoking. The inevitable arrival of the Red Death within the castle walls serves as a stark reminder of the futility of attempting to escape one’s fate. This key message, underscored by Price’s chilling final scenes, resonates strongly with audiences and reinforces the film’s central themes of mortality and hubris.

The Masque of the Red Death is one of several adaptations of Poe’s works by Roger Corman, who helmed other notable films like The Fall of the House of Usher (1960) and The Pit and the Pendulum (1961). While it may not reach the heights of these earlier efforts, it remains a significant entry in the canon of Gothic horror films.

The Prognosis:

The Masque of the Red Death is a visually stunning and thematically rich film that showcases Vincent Price at his best. Its flaws, while notable, do not overshadow its merits entirely. For fans of Gothic horror and Poe adaptations, it is a film worth watching, if only to witness Price’s masterful performance and Roeg’s captivating cinematography.

  • Saul Muerte

The Last Man on Earth (1964): A Mixed Adaptation of a Sci-Fi Classic

16 Friday Aug 2024

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The Last Man on Earth (1964), directed by Ubaldo Ragona and Sidney Salkow, is the first film adaptation of Richard Matheson’s seminal 1954 novel, I Am Legend. Starring the legendary Vincent Price, the film presents a bleak vision of a world ravaged by a plague that turns humans into vampiric creatures. While the movie has its merits, it also falls short in several areas, leading to a mixed reception that persists to this day.

The plot follows Dr. Robert Morgan (Vincent Price), the apparent sole survivor of a global pandemic that has transformed the population into nightmarish, undead beings. By day, Morgan methodically hunts these creatures and works on a cure, while by night, he barricades himself in his home, fending off the relentless attacks of the infected.

Vincent Price, known for his distinctive voice and charismatic presence, delivers a solid performance as Morgan. However, his casting was a point of contention for Richard Matheson, the novel’s author. Matheson, who initially adapted his own work for the screen under the pseudonym Logan Swanson, was reportedly dissatisfied with Price’s portrayal, feeling that it did not capture the everyman quality he envisioned for the character. This misalignment between the author’s vision and the final product is one of the film’s notable shortcomings.

The film’s atmosphere is one of its strongest aspects. Shot in stark black-and-white, The Last Man on Earth effectively conveys a sense of desolation and hopelessness. The empty streets and decaying urban landscapes create a haunting backdrop for Morgan’s lonely existence. The minimalist approach to the horror elements, focusing more on psychological dread than overt scares, sets it apart from many other films of its time.

Despite these strengths, the film struggles with pacing and execution. The narrative can feel sluggish, particularly in the middle sections, where Morgan’s daily routine is depicted in a repetitive manner. Additionally, some of the special effects and make-up work, though innovative for their time, have not aged well, detracting from the film’s overall impact.

The Last Man on Earth is only one of several adaptations of Matheson’s novel. It was followed by The Omega Man (1971), starring Charlton Heston, which took a more action-oriented approach to the story, and I Am Legend (2007), featuring Will Smith, which leaned heavily on CGI and modern horror tropes. Each version brings its own interpretation to the source material, but none have managed to fully capture the essence of Matheson’s original vision.

The film’s key message revolves around isolation and the human struggle for survival in the face of overwhelming despair. Morgan’s battle against both the external threat of the infected and his own internal demons reflects a universal theme of resilience and the quest for meaning in a seemingly meaningless world.

The Prognosis:

The Last Man on Earth is a film of contrasts. It boasts a memorable performance by Vincent Price and a hauntingly effective atmosphere, but it is also hampered by pacing issues and miscasting concerns. While it may not be the definitive adaptation of Matheson’s I Am Legend, it remains an intriguing and significant entry in the history of science fiction and horror cinema.

  • Saul Muerte

Kwaidan (1964): A Haunting Masterpiece of Japanese Horror

15 Thursday Aug 2024

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Kwaidan (1964), directed by Masaki Kobayashi, stands as a monumental achievement in the annals of horror cinema. This anthology film, based on Lafcadio Hearn’s collections of Japanese ghost stories, is a hauntingly beautiful exploration of the supernatural, presented through four meticulously crafted tales. Nearly six decades after its release, Kwaidan remains a testament to the power of atmospheric horror and visual storytelling.

The film comprises four segments: “The Black Hair,” “The Woman of the Snow,” “Hoichi the Earless,” and “In a Cup of Tea.” Each story delves into the eerie and the ethereal, weaving tales of love, betrayal, and spectral encounters. Kobayashi’s direction is masterful, imbuing each segment with a distinct mood and style while maintaining a cohesive thematic thread throughout the film.

One of the most striking aspects of Kwaidan is its visual style. Cinematographer Yoshio Miyajima, in collaboration with art director Shigemasa Toda, creates a series of stunning tableaux that blend traditional Japanese aesthetics with surreal, otherworldly elements. The use of color, particularly the bold and expressive hues, enhances the dreamlike quality of the narratives. Each frame is composed with the precision of a painting, making Kwaidan a feast for the eyes.

The performances are equally compelling, with standout roles from Tatsuya Nakadai, Rentarō Mikuni, and Takashi Shimura, among others. Their portrayals bring depth and nuance to the characters, drawing the audience into the world of the supernatural with a sense of authenticity and emotional resonance.

The film’s sound design and score, composed by Toru Takemitsu, are integral to its chilling atmosphere. Takemitsu’s avant-garde approach to music and sound creates an auditory landscape that is as unsettling as it is beautiful. The haunting melodies and eerie sound effects heighten the sense of dread and unease, making the ghostly encounters all the more impactful.

Kwaidan is not without its flaws. The pacing, particularly in the longer segments, can be slow, and modern audiences might find the deliberate, measured approach to storytelling challenging. However, these are minor quibbles in the grand scheme of the film’s achievements.

The key message of Kwaidan lies in its exploration of the human psyche and the thin veil between the living and the dead. Each story serves as a cautionary tale, reflecting on themes of memory, guilt, and the inescapable nature of fate. Kobayashi masterfully uses the supernatural to delve into the depths of human emotion, creating a film that is as thought-provoking as it is terrifying.

The Prognosis:

Kwaidan is a haunting masterpiece that continues to resonate with audiences nearly six decades after its release. Its blend of stunning visuals, compelling performances, and evocative sound design make it a standout in the genre of horror. For fans of atmospheric and psychological horror, Kwaidan is an essential viewing experience, deserving of its place among the classics of world cinema.

  • Saul Muerte

SUFF 2024 – Movie Review: Mother Father Sister Brother Frank

15 Thursday Aug 2024

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With the program release dropping this week for the much-anticipated 18th Annual Sydney Underground Film Festival, it was a great pleasure to sit down and watch one of the feature lineups, Mother, Father, Sister, Brother, Frank (MFSBF). The joy is not only in realizing that one of my favorite festivals, dedicated to the twisted and macabre, is back, but in how MFSBF epitomizes the style and substance that makes the festival so great. The film delivers a unique blend of the darker side of cinema, whether it’s full-throttle gore or outlandishly dark humor. MFSBF firmly falls into the latter category, offering a humorous tale of a family caught in a night of murder and mishap.

Set in what appears to be a typical suburban household, the Jennings family prepares to sit down for a Sunday dinner. But beneath the surface of Dad’s drinking, Jim’s phone habits, and Jolene’s dietary concerns, lies a web of secrets that no amount of sugar-coating from Mum can keep buried—especially when Uncle Frank arrives and threatens to expose everything. It doesn’t take long for thoughts to turn to murder, but the question remains: just how capable are the Jennings in carrying out their dark deeds and keeping their secrets hidden for good?

Tonally, director Caden Douglas masterfully places the humor just right, slowly dialing up the angst while delivering a series of painfully hilarious sequences that highlight how inept the family is. Each bungled attempt at solving their problems leads them further into potential ruin, as they metaphorically and literally dig their own graves. The film deftly explores whether the Jennings can bond together and claw their way out of the chaos they’ve created.

Special mention must be made of standout performances by Enrico Colantoni (Galaxy Quest) and Mindy Cohn (The Facts of Life), who delicately portray the father and mother roles with painful poise and bumbling brilliance. Their chemistry anchors the film, providing both comedic and emotional depth.

  • Saul Muerte

Catch the screening of Mother, Father, Sister, Brother, Frank at the Sydney Underground Film Festival at Dendy, Newtown.

Screening times and tickets available below:

FRIDAY 13TH SEPTEMBER – 9.30PM

SUNDAY 15TH SEPTEMBER – 3.30PM

The Gorgon (1964): Hammer’s Ambitious but Imperfect Gothic Tale

10 Saturday Aug 2024

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Hammer Films’ The Gorgon (1964) stands as a notable entry in the studio’s prolific output, featuring the legendary trio of Peter Cushing, Christopher Lee, and Barbara Shelley. Directed by Terence Fisher, this film had all the makings of a classic Hammer horror, yet it fell short of its full potential. Despite its flaws, The Gorgon remains an enjoyable feature and a must-watch for fans of the iconic British horror production company.

The story revolves around a small European village plagued by a series of mysterious deaths, all seemingly linked to the mythical gorgon Megaera. Screenwriter John Gilling crafted a compelling script that promised a rich blend of Gothic horror and mythological intrigue. However, Gilling’s satisfaction with his script was tempered by disappointment when significant portions were cut from the final version, diluting the narrative’s depth and impact.

Barbara Shelley, cast in the dual role of Carla and Megaera, was particularly disheartened by the decision to reduce her involvement. Originally intended to portray both the innocent Carla and her monstrous alter ego, Shelley believed that this dual role could have elevated The Gorgon to one of the best Gothic films ever made. Unfortunately, the role of Megaera was reassigned to Prudence Hyman to prevent prematurely revealing the story’s outcome, a choice that Shelley felt undermined the film’s potential.

Under Terence Fisher’s direction, the film benefited from his seasoned expertise in crafting atmospheric horror. Fisher’s collaboration with Cushing, Lee, and Shelley promised a cinematic experience that embodied the essence of Hammer Films. Cushing and Lee, as always, delivered magnificent performances, with Cushing playing the determined Dr. Namaroff and Lee as the insightful Professor Meister. Shelley’s portrayal of Carla added a layer of vulnerability and complexity to the narrative.

Despite these strong elements, The Gorgon struggled to connect with audiences. The film’s pacing issues, coupled with the aforementioned script cuts, resulted in a disjointed story that failed to fully capitalize on its intriguing premise. Additionally, the special effects, particularly the portrayal of Megaera, did not meet the high standards set by other Hammer productions, further impacting the film’s reception.

The Prognosis:

The Gorgon is a mixed bag—a film that showcases Hammer’s strengths while also highlighting some of its weaknesses. It’s an enjoyable feature that offers glimpses of what could have been a masterpiece. For fans of Hammer Films and classic Gothic horror, it remains a worthwhile watch, if only to appreciate the performances of Cushing, Lee, and Shelley, and to ponder the film that might have been.

Rating: ★★★☆☆