Review: Dark Vale

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2018

Images from the Internet

  

Dark Vale

Written and directed by Jason M.J. Brown

Wild Eye Releasing / MVD Visual

90 minutes, 2017 / 2018

www.wildeyereleasing.com

www.mvdvisual.com

Let me start off with the obvious, in case there are any questions: this British film is not the video game, and has no relation to it. Honestly, I’ve never played the game, but now I have seen the film, so let’s move along.

In our household, we tend to watch a lot of British television mysteries. In England, they have a different sense of the temporal, such as with literature such as Dickens, which has a history of an author being paid by the word rather by action. It could take a whole paragraph for someone to open a door (for example, it could be “He reached for the door knob, his hand hesitating over the round globe of metal. The coldness on his hand felt like…” etc.; that kinda thing). Of course, this isn’t true of everything from the Isles, as with films such as 28 Days Later... (2002) that is at Mach 10, but generally things take a bit longer there, and I believe it is culturally expected to be that way.

For a non-Brit who is used to Americanized MTV speed editing and shorter attention spans, this can be an issue, something for which I am occasionally guilty as well. This film is closer to the Dickens than the music video in its pacing.

Darren Randall

It’s also a much smaller film in scope of cast. While there are other, peripheral characters that pop in and out occasionally, especially in the mandatory and in this case gratefully expository prologue, this is essentially a two-and-a-half person cast. The main protagonists are a couple, Leah (Cara Middleton – no relation to Kate, I assume, though she does bear a resemblance to Indian actress Priety Zinta) and Tom (Darren Randall); the “half” is the seen-in-spurts murderous ghost of Lady Lucy (Chloe Clarke).

The first third of the film is the audience getting to “know” the couple who have been together for a while, but only now just talking about moving in together. They go on a vacation, and on the way back, their car breaks down on a backwoods road in… The Vale (da da-da-DA) of the title. They walk to the house down the road and start going through stuff, and when they hear footsteps in the hall, they hide. Wait, what? If I was in someone’s house, especially if I didn’t know them, (a) I would call out asking if anyone was there, (b), I would not go through their possessions, and (c) if I heard footsteps I would check to see if it was the owner, not go slinking under furniture, especially if I didn’t know the Lady Lucy legend. This felt either disingenuous to me at least, fookin’ rude at most. But what do I know; I live in Canada, eh?

The ssssssllllllloooooowwwww pace (note that this is an observation, not a complaint) gives the viewer a chance to think about what is happening and to notice small things. For example, Ben walks into a cathedral and the candles blink on. It’s obvious to tell, however, that the film is just shown backwards due to the wafting candle smoke going downward. Still, a nice and easy way to get a decent effect.

I’m tempted to call the film arty, and on some level it is, but it is not so overpowering that it gets in the way to make the film obtuse. Don’t get me wrong, I have some issues with the it, which is far from perfect, and I’ll get into that a bit more in a mo, but the level of art actually aides in the texture and mood of the film, especially considering it appears to be all shot on a single camera. I do believe this is what one might call an old fashioned gothic ghost story, rather than an Insidious style of shock-a-thon.

The plot borrows liberally from the likes of Wuthering Heights and the first season of “American Horror Story.” And like Cathy and Heathcliff, Leah is annoyingly needy and whiny, and Tom is overly macho and overbearing. Perhaps there’s a bit of Lost, too, if The Vale is some kind of purgatory?

Thing is, by the end I had, in the words of a character from the TV show “Girls,” so many follow-up questions, even trivial ones that built up in their mere volume, such as (and I’m trying to pick some that won’t be spoilers) how does a light, tan backpack stay clean after years of use; who stocked the basement with that much food and tea candles; and how did they manage to get out when our protagonists are stuck there for years? And why would a ghost be scared of fire when it had nothing to do with her death? And why did Tom only run into that guy who gave him instructions once? And why would the footprints be seen walking towards the flour spread on the ground rather than from? And how could a walkie-talkie or mobile phone still be charged after an extended period? I could go on for a couple of more paragraphs.

Cara Middleton

Perhaps my post-graduate education has failed me, but I just don’t get so much of this. Maybe it’s artier that it appears and I’m getting lost in the zeitgeist of the whole enchilada? There are successes as I can see in that it is atmospheric and with rare exception, it’s pretty gray other than the occasionally sunny day, which stands out for that reason

As for the nitty gritty for those interested, there is almost no blood, a small body count, and no shots of naughty bits, which isn’t necessary to keep my attention, but for those who keep track, well, there ya go. Actually, considering the use of mood, having those elements may actually take away what they are going for in the long run, and I believe it was the right choice on all accounts.

Along with a whole bunch of trailers (including for this film) that have the general theme of people going to a building where there are malevolent ghosts, there are two other extras. One is a 28:17 “Making Of” which is essentially the setting up of shots, with any real interview with cast members (Randall and Clarke) starting at 13:00 and lasting the most interesting 3 minutes of the piece. It is, however, the only chance to get a decent view of what Clarke looks like, even if under the white pancake make-up and a veil.

Last up is the full length director’s commentary, including Randall and executive producer Martin Farmilo. It’s okay, nothing very earthshaking, but some good stories about the personalities, the shooting, some explaining what you’re looking at, and a bit of self-backslapping; though personally, I would have liked to hear more about motivations of actions onscreen.

The film looks good, and there are some smart moments, such as Leah walking around in the dark with a lantern where you can only see her and the light, and rather than popping in the ghost where you expect it, they hold off. That’s a wise choice, of which there are quite a few. This has gotten some really nice reviews, but overall I was hoping for a bit more, I guess. Not a bad film, but there are a few gaps in thought.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0mppQaTp3P0

Review: Curse of the Crimson Altar

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2017

Images from the Internet

Curse of the Crimson Altar [aka The Crimson Cult]

Directed by Vernon Sewell

Cheezy Films / MVD Video

87 minutes, 1968 / 2017

www.mvdvisual.com

In my life, I have been a member of three cinema-related fan clubs: for Pamela Franklin, Peter Cushing, and William Henry Pratt. Who was that last one, you ask? Well, when he started acting in 1919, he changed his name to Boris Karloff.

Karloff had quite the illustrious career thanks in part to the ego of Bela Lugosi, but that’s not what this review is about. Despite that profession, as with many genre actors of b-films from the studio years, his golden age was not quite filled with gems. With the exception of Peter Bogdanovich’s stunning Targets (1968, the same year as this one), Karloff arguably hadn’t made a standout film in quite a while, and that would be true until his demise in 1969 (although his pictures were being released until 1971).

Boris Karloff, Mark Eden, Virginia Wetherell

This British flick, now rereleased by the wonderfully relentless Cheezy Films, was originally put out by Tigon British Film Productions; the US version of The Cult of the Crimson Altar [TCotCA] was release two years later as The Crimson Cult by American International Pictures (AIP); I saw it at the Thalia revival house in the mid-‘70s with Targets. Honestly, I don’t remember it at all. Tigon was no Hammer Studios; it did, however, produce some cult classics, such as 1968’s Witchfinder General and 1971’s The Blood on Satan’s Claw. And yet, TCotCA had four major horror stars, namely Karloff (born in England, then moved to Canada), Christopher Lee (d. 2015), Michael Gough (d. 2011), and the enchanting Barbara Steele.

The film is certainly a child of its time: Britain was post-Sgt. Pepper’s, and psychedelia was certainly on the mind of the public, if only in its infancy of hippie-dom. As with most youth cultures, since movies are written by adults catering to a young demographic, this is more how the writers probably imagined the scary times that were a-changin’ at its highest peak, trying to appeal to teens and young adults, yet scare the middle aged parents and up who were curious to find what all the noise in the papers and telly was all about. The motorcycle gang films of the period just before this used the same formula.

Christopher Lee

For example, early on in TCotCA, there is a wild party (though “the boys were wearing ties,” as the Shangri-Las sang in “Sophisticated Boom Boom”) with lots of drinking (drugs are assumed, considering the relatively strict film permission laws), half naked women in bikinis and underwear dousing themselves with alcohol while the guys drink the run-off, or having paint stripes across nearly bare boobs, and all the wild, chaotic laughter over formulaic and forgettable music. A standout moment is when two couples play “chicken” in the main room with the women on the dudes’ shoulders, attacking each other with paint brushes. It made me tense as I kept thinking, “Watch out for that chandelier!” (yeah, I’m gettin’ old…).

There is, however, a nice-yet-subtle self-referential humor, such as the following dialog:
Female lead: It’s like a house in an old horror film.

Male lead: I know what you mean; it’s like Boris Karloff is going to pop up at any moment.

As for the story, there is an introductory scene about a certain character who’s more felt than seen going forward in the story, while we meet an evil supernatural being in a low-cut blouse named Lavinia Morely (the Barbara Steele), the “Black Witch of Greymarshe” (but her skin is blue, not black nor grey…never mind). You can tell she’s beyond human because her voice is so highly reverberated, it’s hard to make out what she’s saying-aying-aying-aying.

 

Barbara Steele

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the UK, Robert Manning (then-television actor Mark Eden, who gets equal billing) is wondering whatever became of his brother Peter, so he goes in search for him, winding up at a strange and isolated manor, where he runs into said party. In the wings are the owner (Christopher Lee), and his slow-but-faithful man-servant, Elder (Michael Gough). The party is run by his deep voiced and skin-tight clothed niece, Eve (Virginia Wetherell, who has an Angelique Pettyjohn-type appeal).

 Karloff the Great makes his entrance in a wheelchair (he suffered from severe arthritis in his later years) as Professor John Marsh, in order to catch Manning – and the audience – up with the history of Lavinia, or as we critics like to call it, the exposition. He explains the party is to celebrate Lavinia, as the participants march through the woods in a scene that is reminiscent in hindsight (as this came first) to The Wicker Man (1973). Lee was also in that one, and actually both roles are similar. It’s also interesting to see both Karloff and Lee together, considering they played some of the same icon horror creatures, Frankenstein’s monster and the Mummy (although Karloff was Im-Ho-Tep, and Lee was Kharis…yes, I knew that from memory, and yes, I’m showing off).

I could go into a whole rant about the subtle yet rampant sexism that goes on, though it was common enough in that time period. Beyond the party scene where many of the women are nearly naked (to be fair, there are a few skimpily clad men, as well) and the sacrifices are all female, there’s a moment when Marsh is dishing out a rare brandy and states, “Completely wasted on women” (even though it’s Manning who it proves to be unappreciative of the high-end hooch). But it’s important to note that it’s not just then: when marching through the woods in the ceremony with torches, the party revelers chant “Burn the witch! Burn the witch!” which has the exact tone of the more modern “Lock her up! Lock her up!”

Michael Gough

The thing about the main male protagonist, Manning (aka “Bob”), is that he is an absolute boor and brute. I found him totally unlikeable. When he isn’t insulting his hosts and the local traditions (which the audience accepts, I’m positing, because of the assumption they are evil, and that makes it okay) or trying to get Eve in the sack by grabbing and kissing her in unsolicited fashion, he just clamors around like a buffoon. For example, he’s warned to leave by someone, and then doesn’t, but that’s to be expected. However, he tells everyone which person told him that without anyone even asking. What an ass. Bull in a china closet, he is. I kept wishing him harm, but that would make the film way too short.

Considering the age of the film, it’s a decent copy, though it’s hard to tell if it’s from a negative or a video. Cheezy Films has once again managed to find a version that is watchable of a somewhat fun film, relatively speaking for its time period and b-level. What should be a considered a big bonus is that they found the original British version, which is somewhat different than the American release (for example, the British government detested violence like the US government was scared about nudity, so there was more of the latter there than the former).

There are few surprises and an amazingly small body count. While it doesn’t live up to what Hammer produced, this is certainly worthwhile a watch if merely for the historical document of who was involved onscreen. Thankfully, even with an obnoxious protagonist, the story is still decent enough (and is certainly, in rear-view mirror viewing, dated). It’s a hoot, anyway, and is an enjoyable night’s screening.

The only extras are chapters and a few similar-period British horror trailers.

Two Short Films by Mike Tack: One Careful Owner; The Domestic

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2013
Images from the Internet

One Careful Owner

12 minutes, 2013
The Domestic
8 minutes, 2013                                    
Both written and directed by Mike Tack
Apocalyptic Conservatory Studios
www.youtube.com/user/miketackisgod

Mike Tack is a new director on the scene, and as in the case of many others going for the solid reputation (i.e., serious films, rather than comedies or “quickies”), he is starting off small, with some shorts to use to gain backing for a full feature. Something tells me that it could well happen based on what I see here.

Considering the length of these two excursions, Tack manages to get the most of his stories and actors. His pace is consistently strong, his editing even, and the films look better than most. They are both dark tales involving some form of social justice to the extreme.

The reasoning for the comeuppance is plausible, but the extreme measures taken is what will get your attention. The intense and excessive level of violence and gore, shown in detail, is what will get these films noticed as much as the reason, the story, or the director’s skill. It’s amazing what can be done with a rubber band, a Q-Tip, or even a chisel. The carnage is realistic, the intent is to inflict harm, and the thrill given to the viewer is, well, that depends on your “winch” level. Mine is high, but I still squirmed at certain instances. That is credit towards this Kent, UK, director’s aptitude behind the camera.

In One Careful Owner, it’s easy to tell who the intended target is, and from the first scene, you know he has it coming. The why and how is what will grab your attention. Who doesn’t want a scuzzy used car dealer to see the error of his ways, especially if you’ve dealt with an unctuous one (I’ve been pretty lucky, but I digress…). However, we don’t learn why the focus of The Domestic is getting the treatment until much later on, but I guarantee it’ll stick with you and make you think twice. Because we don’t know the circumstances of the actions until the conclusion, it separates the reason from the harsh physical actions, making the encounter all the more “squishy.”

It would be easy to call this the now generic coinage “torture porn,” but because of the competence of the filmmaking, especially for a relative beginner, this elevates the releases to a higher level. Okay, The Domestic has very little other than the abuse until the O Henryism, so this may fall more into this category, but the emotions raised and the level of character development in the short period of One Careful User is what takes this to a higher level.

I have two hopes for Tack, given these two shorts. First, I wish him well in getting the funding needed for present us a full length film. I’m interested in what he does with the time between the red stuff. Second, I’m hoping he keeps making shorts because I know I would enjoy seeing his progression from film to film, considering his growth between these two, which made within a year of each other.

 

The complete The Domestic

One Careful Owner Trailer
http://youtu.be/byCviB13p_E

Short Film Review: 15-05-08

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2013
Images from the Internet

15-05-08

Directed by Nikki Chatwin
16:51 minutes, 2013
Sick Bunny Pictures

Using a found-footage framework, this spankin’ new British short is shot entirely in night-vision mode, as we watch a couple of couples hanging out and looking out the window at a house across the street that is supposed to be empty, but apparently lights occasionally turn on and off. They’re half-jokingly hoping it’s something mysterious, perhaps a serial killer.

As with most found footage films, the first section is expository, as we follow the four around an upstairs room, and they muse while filming each other and the shadowy house of question. They muse on the happenings, giving more of an impression that we’re watching a Paranormal homage.

This part is necessary, but the action start to really pick up a bit after a while, as one of them goes down the stairs to investigate a noise. The night vision is particularly effective here, because you can only see part of what is in front of the camera. With the creaking floors and the technical shorting in and out of the image, it is effectively tense and unnerving. I definitely jumped a couple of times.

Where the story is going to end up after 10 minutes in is not any major surprise, but getting there is what keeps your attention.  My only real complaint is that the film is dark, making it hard to see on the computer screen. Sure, found footage has been done, and then done, and then done again, but because this is such a short film, it keeps it from getting tiresome, and works well. I’m not sure why they don’t just turn the lights on in their own house, but pfffft, whatever, since this is a nice rollercoaster ride.

Plus, the film is free on YouTube, and linked below:  

 

Review: The Scar Crow

Text © Richard Gary / Indie Horror Films, 2012

Images from the Internet

                            

The Scar Crow

Written and directed by Andy Thompson and Pete Benson                

Gaia Media / Dead on Arrival Digital / Jingai                 

83 minutes, 2009 / 2012    

Gaiamedia.co.uk

MVDvisual.com

Well this is a just-miss Hammer-esk film that is a bit of a mixture of early-1970s and mid-‘80s clichés. The story of three fetching witches (Prim, Proper, and Vanessa Tanner) enacting a bloody plan to escape a curse by their lecherous (and non-warlock?) dad and move on after 300 years could have been right out of the mind of those who wrote the Karnstein Trilogy (look it up HERE) rather than written by co-directors Andy Thompson and Pete Benson).

Let me start with the good stuff, coz that’s the kinda guy/fan I am. The film looks beautiful, is shot well, and edited strongly (if sometimes confusing of the action, especially in dim-lit scenes). People fading in and out are certainly nice touches and the sense of atmosphere works incredibly well; also soundly done is a scene where the audience can see the post-carnage effects in a room, but some of the characters who are enchanted cannot. The British countryside and the farm have just the right feeling of isolation, creepiness and loneliness to show the emotions of the sisters, without needing dialog to explain, though the words and actions are there.

The shimming light of fire rather than electricity, for example, is used without much loss to the image (i.e., too dark to see), and the color saturation is nicely tuned (fire tends to make things too yellow or red).

As the viewer is taken back and forth between the origin story centuries ago that weaves through modern times, it is never confusing, and they tie together in a solid knot that is the center of the story.

Ah, yes, the story. Actually, it is a really decent tale that is poorly told (as you can see, I’m starting on the problem parts now). While the acting is mostly either over- or underdone, which I will get to shortly, it is the co-screenwriting by the directors where is the most troubling.

But first, let us catch up a bit on the story. You got the three enticing witch sisters who cannot leave the farm until the curse is lifted (they are both bodily solid and spatially fluid, depending on the circumstance, which is actually a nice touch), and then there are the four macho insurance salesmen (is that an oxymoron, or are they just trying to mock a cliché?) copping out on a mean-spirited office team-building weekend (I would quit the job before going through this ridiculous and physically rigorous nonsense; most office workers could not do what is expected in the film, and beside, many insurance sellers these days are women, and there is nary a true representation in the group. But, as usual, I digress…). Running out on the exercises (rightfully), they come across the rural farm with the witches, to become fodder, as expected.

Man, I hated these four guys. They are every macho jock moron bar bully you ever met. We are also never given a chance to really feel pity for them, because, with one exception, there is no background story given about them, and absolutely no character development. All they do is drink (excessively), talk about how they’re going to score with the three women (disproportionately), and goad and fight with each other, calling their supposed good buddies “twats” over and over. The dislike I felt for them, including the supposedly sympathetic one who is more than willing to cheat on his girlfriend, was palpable. There were a couple of times there where I just said to the screen, “Oh, c’mon, kill the asshole already.”

There is also no shock value in here. When one of the four twats (as I now will call them) stops for a potty break in a field, there’s no doubt as to what is going to happen. Even the ending is no surprise, if you’ve seen any horror film in the last 30 years.

 But the biggest annoyance for me was the questions that went through my mind about the plot holes. For example (and I’ll only give two here), if the witches are planning to use these twats for their great escape, why would they let them go to the town pub and mix with the locals, including the cliché wise-but-not-taken-seriously-by-anyone older guy (bar owner, here) who warns them to leave? And why, when they are seducing one of the twats, who is tied to the bedposts, would two of the sisters undress over him and start kissing each other?  I mean, gratuitous lesbian incest, really?

As for the cast, well, most of the acting, as I said, was either too subdued or too scenery chewing. For example, the witches are supposed to be 300 years old and isolated (are you trying to tell me that no one else has been on that farm in all that time for them to do what they need to escape?; obviously, there are more than two questions…), but they sure do seem to know a lot about Twenty-first Century mores for women from the Eighteenth Century, including stripping at the drop of a corset. When they speak, they sound stilted in their language, like a high schooler trying to do Shakespeare, rather than have it flow naturally. This is especially true, sadly, for the most film-credited actor in the cast, redheaded Marysia Kay (as the eldest, Vanessa). Her line reading is atrocious here (I haven’t seen her in anything else, so I don’t know if it’s endemic for her, or she just didn’t care about this mess). The other two sisters, busty and beautiful Gabrielle Douglas (middle child Proper) and the cute and more reticent Anna Tolputt (youngest Prim, short for Primrose), fare a bit better, but are caught in a maelstrom of clunky writing.

As for the twats, well, mostly they seem interchangeable. Their characters were so vacant and transparent, and their portrayers so bland, that half the time I couldn’t remember who was whom. In fact, I’m not even going to bother with them, other than the supposedly sympathetic anti-hero (?) Dez, played by Kevyn (really?) Connett (who looks remarkably like Canadian comedian Shaun Majumder). While his acting probably comes the closest to being best among the troupe (possibly why he is the lead male role), he is also hampered by a ham-fisted script.

Now the all important gore-factor: I read a review that claimed it was not up to par, but actually, I thought the blood-to-kill quotient was quite good, and with one exception of a very obvious prosthetic in a corn field, was pleased with the various body parts strewn about in various scenes. It is amusing to me that a similar gag employed here – a hand reaching through a body to lift out a heart – was also used almost identically in a more recent film, Zombie A-Hole, reviewed recently on this blog by moi. Oh, sidebar here: I actually was annoyed that the character who had his heart removed above, along with other internal organs, was still alive to view all this happening way beyond the point of even suspension of disbelief. Again, poor writing/direction.

                                          

I realize this is a first film by Benson and Thompson, so I’m going to cut them some slack. After all, as much as I loved them, the similar could be said about some of the early works of masters like Chronenberg, Waters, Hooper, and yes, even Romero. I’ll keep my fingers crossed, even though they’ve only worked on one film since this was filmed in 2009. Perhaps we can get them to direct something they have not written, or have edited by someone else, where their strengths will all come together, because if they can match their content with their visuals, they may become a force worth noting.

                                                                      

Bonus clip: