it'll be all fright on the night (and the following two days obviously).

Yup it's that time of year when Team Frightfest make their way oop nerth to 'sunny' Glasgow for their annual weekend of blood, sweat and fears and I recycle the last god knows how many previews so I don't have to come up with any new patter.

It's not like anyone reads this so frankly I can't see the point.

Anyway on with the show.

And by show I mean looking forward to what films are on obviously.

This year’s line-up of 13 films spanning 10 countries, four continents and 12 different hairstyles kicks off on the now traditional Thursday evening slot in a scare-tastic style with the big screen adaptation of Andy Nyman and Jeremy Dyson's Ghost Stories.

Adapted from the stage show of the same name it stars Martin (the man in the romantic phone ads) Freeman alongside Paul ('Brilliant!') Whitehouse and tells the sinister story of Professor Philip Goodman (Nyman), a renowned sceptic of the supernatural who is given the opportunity to investigate three case histories of baffling paranormal activity, uncovering mysteries beyond his own imagination that lead to a shockingly personal nightmare style conclusion.

Or so the official blurb says.

Expect scares, chairs and quality facial hair from Mr Nyman.

"I am not a number!"

There's just enough time for a change of underwear before we meet The Lodgers (not literally tho' it's just the films title) in this gothic tale we're introduced to (again not literally, only on screen) orphaned twins Rachel (Charlotte - American Assassin - Vega) and Edward (Bill Milner - young Magneto in X-Men: First Class) who live alone in their crumbling family estate, except that is at night when the house becomes the domain of a sinister presence that enforces three rules upon them.

Bed by midnight, no outsiders past the threshold and any solo escape attempt will put the other twin in jeopardy.

Which bizarrely is near enough the same rules I had as a kid except we had a fourth one about not wanking in the butter but I digress.

But a troubled war veteran (is there any other kind?) who is mysteriously drawn to Rachel is about to test the rules to the limit.

And hopefully get a glimpse of ankle for his trouble.

Stairs.

Friday brings us (the audience) the UK premiere of Dragos Buliga’s The Wanderers: Quest of the Demon Hunter that features Judge Dredd's evil twin Armand Assante as Louis, the most famous ghost and demon hunter in the world who, as we meet him, is traveling to the infamous Zalesky Castle in Romania alongside an Israeli journalist, a Romanian guide and a Korean television reality show team in to untangle the evil secrets lurking at the dark heart of this frightened community.

Think Dudley but with better teeth.

Fire.

Next up is Kelly Greene’s pastiche of 50's monster movies and all things Corman Attack of the Bat Monsters, where we join schlock impresario Francis Gordon as his intrepid crew as they attempt to shoot an impromptu monster movie in the three days left over from the film they’ve just wrapped.

From the Saul Bass opening title homage to its highly authentic, comic evocation of 1950s’ grade-Z grindhouse, the movie ended up lost behind the directors sofa shortly after it was made in 1999.

But ace restorer and armchair collector Mark Rance (who brought Tobe Hooper’s Eggshells to FrightFest 2010 and once bought me a pickled egg in a train station) found it when shopping for a new footstool and has lovingly refurbished it under writer/director Kelly Greene’s supervision and steely gaze.

Hands/teeth.

It's time for a quick wee and maybe a smoke before Robin Aubert’s The Ravenous (or Les Affamés as the French speakers amongst us call it) is let loose on an unsuspecting audience.

Unless that is they've read a programme and know what films are coming up.

Tho' someone may change the order for a laugh.

Who knows?

As a pesky zombie apocalypse ravages Canada (the thought of anything at all happening in Canada is scary enough) the surviving residents of rural Quebec wait patiently for any assistance from the government but as it becomes more and more likely that no-one is coming (to help that is, I'm sure a couple of the townsfolk are actually quite aroused by an undead invasion) the survivors must figure things out for themselves, even if it means risking a hideous death.

Saying that I'd risk certain death if it meant I could even lightly touch the skirt hem of the librarian-like star of the film, the pixie-like Monia Chokri so this maybe my fave movie of the whole weekend.

Monia Chokri: Smooth, milky thigh.

And how do you follow a French speaking zombie shocker I hear you cry, well with  Xavier (Frontier(s) and The Divide) Gens  love letter to HP Lovecraft and amphibious fondling Cold Skin.

Phew, glad that's sorted.

At the dawn of the First World War a young man named Friend (David Oakes who'll always be there for you) arrives at a desolate Antarctic Circle lighthouse to take up the post of weather observer but soon discovers that a race of amphibious humanoids live nearby, rising from the sea every night to attack him and his grumpy lighthouse keeper companion, Gruner (the always watchable Ray Stevenson).

I'm expecting The Shape of Water but with added gore and fish fanny if I'm honest.
And that's not a bad thing.

"She-Fish in mah mooth!"

Friday closes with the European premiere of Primal Rage.

No not the one based on the video game starring The Rock and a big monkey but a scary Sasquatch shocker from special effects icon and former Hulk hunter Patrick (Jurassic Park III, Evolution, Spider-Man) McGee.

Lost deep in the forest of the Pacific Northwest, Ashley (Casey Cagliardi) and her ex-convict husband Max (Andrew Joseph Montgomery) find themselves being stalked by a terrifying creature the locals call Oh-Mah.

Tho' not by The O Men from BBC TV's Jigsaw which is probably for the best.

Soon they find themselves forced to face not only nature’s harshness but a band of unsavory hunters (who will most likely try to touch Ashley's bum whilst leering a lot) as they become embroiled in a life and death battle against a Native American legend made flesh.

And fur obviously.

Pure ragin'.

Time for bed now as we steal 40 winks (and the shoes of the person asleep two rows in front) to prepare us for a scary Saturday starting with Paul Urkijo’s Basque fantasy fairytale The Blacksmith and the Devil.

Ten years after Spanish Civil War (well one of them), orphan Usue (Uma Bracaglia) seeks to escape from her abusive guardians and the general shittiness of the local villagers.

When her beloved doll is stolen, it ends up at the property of Patxi (Kandido Uranga) a lonely and feared blacksmith who is the keeper of a terrifying secret.

A horrible truth that Usue innocently reveals.

Which sounds good.

Laugh now.

After all that darkly disturbing subtitle reading it's back to basics with the origin story of Gillian Holroyd's cat and familiar in the film Bell, Book and Candle = Pyewacket.

Or the title may just be a reference to one of the familiar spirits of a witch detected by the Witchfinder General Matthew Hopkins.

Either way Adam MacDonald's tale of angst-ridden teenage girl (is there any other type?) Leah (Nicole Muñoz, last seen taking a bath with some aliens in Defiance) upset after the death of her dad (or is it the dad of her death?) performs a blood incantation calling on the devil to kill her mother.

As you do.

Changing her mind almost immediately she soon realizes she can’t reverse the curse and an unholy presence now stalks them both.

Spooky.

Nicole Muñoz in a bath yesterday.

 After all the demon-based badness it's time for some good old fashioned human hatred with Gabriela Amaral Almeida’s Friendly Beast, which is surprisingly neither friendly or beast based.

It's nearly closing time at a struggling restaurant and all the staff want is to go home.

As they tidy up and grab their coats the restaurant owner sits alone in the back office struggling with money troubles and a desire for more control in his life.

Enter two robbers, the catalyst for a violent situation, which the boss is initially able to contain and even gain the upper hand, unfortunately tho' the already dangerous and explosive situation takes a turn for the worse and as sides are taken all those involved begin to engage in the most abhorrent behaviour imaginable.

Which probably means lots of mooth shite-in.

I hope.

Tie me up, tie me down.

If that puts you off dining out the Adam Marcus' Christmas kill-fest Secret Santa may put you off turkey and stuffing for life, telling as it does the sorry story of  
the Pope family’s Christmas Eve dinner where everything goes horribly (and hilariously) wrong when someone puts something in the party punch causing everyone to tell the unvarnished truth at the already dysfunctional holiday reunion.

When the head of the household turns psycho, the scene is set for murderous mayhem and raw revenge as the family reveal their long-buried hatreds and festering loathings.

Just like my Christmases as a child.

Blood on mah face.

Mexican writer/director Issa Lopez brings us her magical (and disturbing) story of five young urchins making the best of their daily struggle to survive on the streets as they are caught in the unceasing cartel crossfire of the ongoing violent drug war in Mexico in her third feature Tigers Are Not Afraid next, which if I'm honest seems way too serious for me to take the piss out of with childish captions so I'll move straight on to Neil Mackay’s home-based Turkey Shoot/Running Man homage bloody Sixty Minutes to Midnight.

Tigers may not be afraid but she looks like she's about to shit herself.

It’s New Years Eve 1999 and former soldier Jack Darcy (Robert Nolan minus his singing sisters) wakes to find himself mysteriously entered into a murderous new TV game show.

He has sixty minutes to kill or be killed by a group of strange armed men who’ve surrounded his house but what his would-be assassins haven’t realised is that Jack has learnt a few tricks from his military days.

He has a hidden bunker full of weapons and he isn’t going down without a vicious fight.

Or at the very least a violent bumming.

Peow!

See you all on Thursday 1st March in Nice N Sleazy for pre-movie drinks then?

But until then here are some more pics of Nicole Muñoz in the bath.

Enjoy.

oi! donald!

I think I've found your hackers......*

*With thanks to ‏@PulpLibrarian

criminalising kinkiness (part 2).

Not often I get to have a good old rant on here (well not about anything of importance) but I couldn't let the governments new digital economy bill pass without at least a few words.

Which is a shame but hey ho.

Readers with long memories (and glass dolls) will no doubt remember my previous moans aboutthe likes of Christopher Tookey and barmy Julian Brazier (there's more but frankly I really can't be arsed trawling thru' the links to find them) as well as the infamous ambulance chaser and buggerer of beefcake Keith Vaz regarding their thoughts that 'Explicit and extreme video games and films are fueling a tide of violence in Britain' from a few years ago and their ongoing attempts to ban anything and everything that they don't like.

Vernon: Your dad's cum face.

Obviously - thanks no doubt to my fantastic journalistic skills) - their puritanical pursuits came to naught  and we all got to live happily ever after, that is until professional witch-woman and part-time internet voyeur Theresa May came to power and decided that it was up to the government to decide what kind of sexy stuff we can enjoy.

Being more of a mindless violence than a kinky sex fan (look I have Aspergers I'm going to side with the less sticky pursuit - I hate mess) I gave the matter no thought, knowing that is that Zombie(s) Lake could in no way be construed as a sexual fetish, until that is a friend (yes I have one) pointed out that under the new legislation those occasional YouTube videos I post of me dancing provocatively whilst wearing a Howard Vernon mask could be seen as too kinky and therefore illegal.

It was at this point that my pervy pal delivered the killer blow.

Ooooer.

It seems that part of the bill is aimed at regulating things like menstrual blood, urination and 'mooth shite-ing'.

I'll let that sink in for a minute.

Yup, this blog will be well and truly screwed.

Hopefully then they'll remember to stick to the bizarre “four-finger rule” when they do it.

And what is this rule? I hear my overseas readers cry.

It's a part of the bill which limits the number of digits that can be inserted into an orifice for sexual stimulation.

No really.

We have food banks, a rise in racist attacks on the street and a country in post-Brexit turmoil and this is the most important thing our government can think about?

We are indeed drifting into an arena of the unwell.

Theresa May: Haunted beachfront cave.

For more information follow the link here, it's for The Guardian which may be a wee bit left-leaning but as a plus point the type is quite large and they don't use too many big words.

Which for readers here is a Godsend.

Talking of random film-based sex acts regular readers may have noticed that The Arena has been a wee bit obsessed with sexy seventies superstar Robin Askwith of late, culminating in me finally getting round to obtaining his classic 'Confessions' series on shiny StevieDee allowing my to confine my bulky VHS collection to the bin.

Imagine my surprise then when on going to watch them I realized I'd actually acquired the slightly inferior Barry (Mind Your Language) Evans 'Adventures' set by mistake.

Never mind I thought, It'd be a pity not to share....

Adventures of a Taxi Driver (1976)
Dir: Stanley Long.
Star: Barry Evans, Judy Geeson, Adrienne Posta, Robert Lindsay, Liz Fraser, Diana Dors, Anna Bergman, Stephen Lewis, Ian Lavender, Henry McGee, Stephen Riddle, Brian Wilde, David Auker, Angela Scoular and Beatrice Shaw.

The place: London, the time: the really unfashionable bit of the seventies where greasy haired, bowl cutted Joe North (Evans) - a busty burd obsessed (not a busty burd himself, obviously) taxi driver - spends his time using his cab as an impromptu shag palace to get away from his mundane everyday existence, from ditzy dollies to frustrated, saggy boobed bored housewives, every woman he meets seem to fall for his lost little boy charms.

And pleasant smelling cock obviously.

We first experience his uncanny (some would say ungodly) luck first hand when one of his passengers asks to be dropped off on a bridge so she can jump off.

She's heartbroken, the poor lamb.

Being a nice guy Joe convinces her not to toss herself off but to allow him to drive her home.

Probably after leaving the meter running and charging her extra tho' - you know what cabbies are like.

Upon arrival she surprisingly takes off all her clothes and jumps on our crap Casanova.

Suffice to say that just as they're about to get down and get with it (luckily for the viewer not before we've seen Evan's pale, shriveled penis), her boyfriend turns up unexpectedly leaving Joe no choice but to climb out of the window and leg it to his cab stark bollock naked.

Blimey.

He needn't have bother tho', turns out that this blokes missis is a raving nymphomaniac and uses the old suicide trick to pick up fellas all time.

Hi-fucking-larious I'm sure you'll agree.

"Oh no! It's John Leslie!"

The good thing is that all this sex is that it helps take Joe's mind of his hellish home life, dominated as he is by his moaning (but not in that way) peroxide headed mother (Dors....who wouldn't want to be dominated by her?...well not now obviously) and arguing constantly with his spotty teenage brother whilst trying to find an excuse to escape his clingy, marriage obsessed girlfriend Carol (the ball-faced, bewigged Posta, who also performs the films theme song 'Cruising Casanova').

It's not too much of a surprise then to find poor Joe finds at breaking point so he decides to move in with his best mate Tom (Lindsay).

Cue even more oh so amusing sexual shenanigans.

"Excuse me, you've shut my cock in the door".

Over the next forty five minutes we're treated (in much the same way as you treat syphilis) to a veritable comedic tsunami of sexual hi-jinks featuring faceless seventies totty and a hilarious escapade with Joe's pet python named....wait for it.....Monty.

Oh.

My.

Aching.

Sides.

"Is that a snake in your pocket or is it just
that your cock is particularly scaly and flexible?"

If this wasn't enough to get your pulse racing, down on her luck former Bond girl (and pube haired temptress) Angela Scoular gets her kit of in possibly the film’s most amusing moment (and that's not saying much) when her geeky accountant husband, who has unexpectedly come home early, surprisingly fails to notice that Joe is lying underneath his wife in a soapy bath.

Scoular: pube haired but still lustable.

Add to this the wonderful Judy (Inseminoid) Geeson playing a stripper (who scarily keeps her clothes on throughout), the comedy gem of Joe mistakenly picking up a transvestite and the bizarre last third of the film which forgoes any shagging to concentrate on Joe getting involved in a jewelery heist gone wrong and you have a movie to challenge Nativity 3: Dude Where's My Donkey? in the charm stakes.

Yes, it really is that good.

Watch out! it's Leslie Grantham.

So what else is there to say about this movie?

Well, Stanley Long's direction is, um, well it's in focus and he makes sure the camera doesn't wander off at the boring bits, whilst the 'script' co-written by Suzanne (Groupie Girl) Mercer from an idea by Long is simplistic at best, clichéd and predictable at worst.

Cast wise, the late (almost great) Barry Evans is fresh faced and agreeably cocky enough to worm his way into the audiences affections whilst Robert (Citizen Smith) Lindsay and Judy Geeson give sterling support as his best pal and best pals missis respectively.

The film also boasts a plethora of cameo's from some British comedy legends including Diana Dors, Liz (the one that wasn't in The Cocteau Twins) Fraser, Ian (Dads Army) Lavender, Stephen (On The Buses) Lewis and Brian (Last of The Summer Wine) Wilde.

Liz Fraser: The one that doesn't get
her tits out in British smut movies.
Pity.

Being kind tho' the films tiny (£130,000) budget is put to good use shooting in and around London (that's in England, Europe for any Americans reading) mostly without official permits which gives it a grittier edge than it's more famous Confessions cousins.

It's just a pity the film as a whole doesn't live up to it's guerrilla origins.

Worth a look if you like smut of a not too rude kind.

Or have a thing for huge seventies pants.

Which as I said earlier, the way it's going may soon be illegal.

tree-mendous.

Just got sent this in reply to my review of the frankly fantastic Freddie Francis classic Tales That Witness Madness.

If you haven't seen it/read it do so now otherwise you'll just get scared.

No, really.

According to an interview in Closer magazine (other incest and death filled lifestyle magazines are available), man-handed, Evil Dead fan (possibly) Emma McCabe admitted that - just like Michael Jayston in the aforementioned movie - she's in love with a tree.


It seems that after a series of failed relationships with dozens of unsuitable guys who just wouldn't leaf her alone, she decided to branch out and fell in love with a tree in her local park called Tim.

I shit you not.

Or should that be knot?

Tim the tree yesterday just before he gave Emma a fucking good rooting.

“My feelings are genuine. I’ve had boyfriends, but never connected with anyone like Tim,” The 31 year old mentalist mumbled as she attempted fellatio on a pine cone before continuing “I’m in love and would like to get married. I look at other trees, but don’t touch — I wouldn’t cheat on Tim...unless it was with a particularly sexy cactus, I mean just imagine all the pricks.”

“He fulfills my emotional and sexual needs. I orgasm by rubbing against the bark naked,” Emma admitted as she playfully fondled a nearby pile of dog shit encrusted leaves “I love the feeling of skin-on-bark contact, which gives me a more pleasurable pain sensation, and the feel of his leaves against my skin makes me tingle. I have sex with him every week — it’s the best I’ve ever had!” 

 

"Leaf me alone!"

Apparently not realizing that the entire country is currently taking the piss out of her Emma went on to say that she sees Tim four times a week where they "just talk" and that she plans to marry him.

Surprisingly her family think that she's fruitloops and refuse to talk about it.

I phoned a scientist-type mate of mine (yes I do have friends) who said that he reckons that Emma may suffer from dendrophilia, a condition in which a person is sexually attracted to or aroused by trees.

Well either that or she's strapped for cash and decided to make up a story in order to get paid 250 quid that she can then blow on cheap drink and kebabs.

Either way you have to admire her style.

If not her massively ball-like face.

Normal service will be resumed as soon as.

virtual insanity.

Always exciting to find a new movie to rave about - as opposed to slag off - on the Arena, especially if the director/cast members are complimentary about me (Absentia director Mike Flanagan please take note) and it's even better if it's still in production because there's a chance you might get a quote on the poster.

Or a ticket to the première.

Or even a wee kiss off the lead actor/actress.

I'm not fussy.

So I got very excited indeed when I came across (not literally) director Harry Lindley's low budget British indie shocker entitled CTRL.

Throwing caution - and budgetary constraints - to the wind CTRL is a heady mix of haunted house chills, zombie thrills, bloody body horror and mad mentalist mayhem via the frankly bonkers concept of an airbourne digital virus in a plot that goes something like this:

The contents of Cheggers fridge.

Deciding to visit her geek-centric brother Leo in his high rise Bava-esque bachelor pad in the heart of London, Lex and her boyfriend Dru are surprised to discover that he's been busy creating a digital virus that's intent on gaining absolute knowledge.

Of everything.
Unfortunately (for them - obviously) the virus appears to be evolving at a pant wettingly alarming rate - which is lucky otherwise it'd be stuck downloading dodgier and dodgier porn as it attempted to absorb the internet before growing a virtual neckbeard - deciding (as all good computer viruses with delusions of grandeur do) that to become truly all knowledgable it must evolve beyond the need to be confined to a computer system.

Obviously coming across the works of Dr. Alan Harris online (between reading this blog and looking up Youtube clips of dogs in cardigans obviously) the virus sneakily traps the trio, watching their every move via its spookily self-made drones.

Will our terrified trio overcome Leo's godlike creation and outwit the maniacal mainframe?

Well the movie's still in production and Harry (alongside producers Julian Mack and Harriet Wade) isn't telling.

Want to know more?

Well check out the films website - and its impressive trailer - here and if you can pop a few quid into the Kickstarter appeal.

thought of the day.

For those of you that missed it.

Excellent.

Can we carry on now?

fright!

Yep!

It's that time of year again when hundreds of horror geeks plus half dozen sweaty, high waisted folk who live at home with their disabled mums (who will never die!) descend on my fair city ready to soak the streets (and seats) with the unmistakable smell of sweat, shame, semen and tears.

Which can only mean that our lovely pals at Frightfest have announced the line-up for sunny Glasgow.

And it looks a good un!

So without further ado, here's the list:

THE ATTICUS INSTITUTE

Director: Chris Sparling. Screenwriter: Chris Sparling. Cast: William Mapother, Rya Kihlstedt, Rob Kerkovich. 92 mins, USA 2015.

"Shite in mah mooth!" - Sorry couldn't resist.

Back in the early 70's brainy clever clogs Dr. Henry (no relation to Herbert or Fred) West set up The Atticus Institute in order to study telekinesis, clairvoyance, E.S.P., the books of Colin Martin and other unexplained psi-related phenomena.

But not the film Phenomena obviously because that wasn't released till 1985.

Literally thousands of folk were tested using a variety of seriously scientific with some of them actually showing spooky abilities that defied any rational explanations. 

Except probably that wolves did it.

Unfortunately just after West published the promising results of his research work, the small facility was mysteriously shut down in November 1976 by a concerned US Government. 

The reason? 

A woman named Judith Winstead whose supernatural abilities tested far beyond anything ever before witnessed. 

We're promised that won’t believe your eyes whilst watching the shockumentary of the year from director Chris Sparling, writer of BURIED.

The film script that is, not the word.

THE HOARDER

Director: Matt Winn. Screenwriters: James Handel, Matt Winn, Chris Denne. Cast: Mischa Barton, Robert Knepper, Charlotte Salt. 84 mins. UK 2015.

 

"Mischa Barton? I'm sure she's around here somewhere!"

When Ella (Mischa Barton) discovers that her Wall Street banker (in more ways than one) boyfriend is renting a secret storage unit, she suspects he’s using it to hide an affair.

But seeing as this is Frightfest she's probably wrong.

Anyway enlisting the help of her best friend Molly (High headed star of The Inbetweeners Emily-Mars-Atack....yes I've just realised that it lack an S to work) she breaks into the facility only to discover something more terrifying instead. 

Wolves?

Director Matt Winn isn't telling.

Now trapped in a darkened building with a group of neurotic strangers who start disappearing one by one, Ella soon uncovers even worse horror in the dank depths. 

A dozen wolves?

Who knows? But her life or death battle to escape eternal enslavement (possibly by animals like wolves) is about to begin…

WYRMWOOD

Director: Kiah Roache-Turner. Screenwriters: Kiah Roache-Turner, Tristan Roache-Turner. Cast: Jay Gallagher, Bianca Bradey, Leon Burchill, 98 mins, Australia 2014.

"Laugh now!"

In the midst of a post-apocalyptic zombie invasion - caused this time by a wayward comet - an Oz (as in Australian, he's not a Munchkin or anything) mechanic must attempt to rescue his dusky eyed sister from a group of sinister gas-masked soldiers who are scouring the land for fresh victims to participate in the bizarre flesh-eating experiments being conducted by a fairly mad scientist. 

Mixing Mad Max style designs, an absurd sense of humour, new and outrageous zombie lore and KC and the Sunshine Band, this new spin on an old favourite promises black comedy galore, catastrophic carnage, over-the-top splatter and probably a few mullets.

88

Director: April Mullen. Screenwriters: Tom Doiron, April Mullen. Cast: Katharine Isabelle, Christopher Lloyd, Michael Ironside, 88 mins, Canada 2015.

88: Two fat ladies not shown.

From the team behind DEAD BEFORE DAWN 3D, and starring friend of The Arena Katharine Isabelle, comes a glorious, gory and fast-paced homage to cult exploitation revenge thrillers. 

Gwen arrives dishevelled at a mysterious roadside diner with no idea where she is or how she got there in such an anguished state. 

Split between two time lines, Gwen gets taken on a violence-fuelled journey into death and destruction and becomes the most wanted woman in Tennessee seeking out the person responsible for her lover's murder.

Raucous redhead action with American Mary herself. 

Honestly what more could you ask for?

Except wolves maybe?

THE ASYLUM - (BACKMASK)

Director: Marcus Nispel. Screenwriters, Marcus Nispel, Kirsten Elms. Cast: Stephen Lang, Brett Dier, Brittany Curran, 90 mins, USA 2015.

Holly Valance, up the casino, Wigan, 1998.....YESCH.

From Marcus Nispel, 'director' of THE TEXAS CHAINSAW and FRIDAY THE 13TH re-imaginings (but let's not hold that against him) comes a curious case of sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll possession. 

Which is nice.

Six teens throw a party in a rundown building and find an old record (ask your mum) and decide to play it backwards for a giggle.

As you do.

But the vintage vinyl holds a subliminal message and soon a seemingly malevolent entity has infiltrated the group, wreaking havoc and eggy farts. 

However the spirit is actually trying to convey a message and the real source of horror is something - or someone - much closer to home.

Your dad perhaps?

Come on, you've seen the way he looks at me.

CLOWN

Director: John Watts. Screenwriters: Christopher D. Ford, John Watts. Cast: Peter Stormare, Eli Roth, Laura Allen, 102 mins, USA/Canada 2014.

 

"Those badges on your jacket smell....they must be onion bhajis!" - Seriuosly a clown I was working with once made this joke.

FrightFest Glasgow’s special 2013 guest Eli Roth sends in the clowns but forgets the money he owes me with this terrifying tale of an unreliable childrens entertainer.

 When the balloon twisting funny fella hired for his son’s sixth birthday party is a no-show, doting father Kent dons a clown outfit himself but after the festivities, he finds he can’t take it off – the bulbous nose is stuck to his face, the frizzy wig glued to his hair and the make-up permanently etched on his features. 

Too late he learns the costume is the skin of an ancient demon and his family must race to break the curse before the transformation into a homicidal killer with outsize shoes and the mysterious stench of warm milk is complete. 

 

 

 

BLOOD AND BLACK LACE
Director: Mario Bava. Screenwriters: Mario Bava, Giuseppe Barilla, Marcello Fondato. Cast: Cameron Mitchell, Eva Bartok, Lea Lander, 88 mins, Italy 1964.

A Bava classic....blood or black lace not soon.

Mario Bava’s visually stunning, elegantly mounted and erotically charged proto- giallo presented in all its restored glory.

Nuff said.

THE WOOD MOVIE

Director: Russell Gomm. Screenwriter: Russell Gomm. Cast: Edward Sanchez, Daniel Myrick, Gregg Hale. 84 mins. UK 2015.

In October 1997, a group of filmmakers ventured into the Maryhill woods to produce a low budget independent horror movie. 

 

That disappeared without a trace but across the pond a different lo-fi shocker,  

THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT would become a global phenomenon and began the ‘found footage’ genre that remains a potent, if sometimes stinky  force today. 

 

Now for the first time you can see how that record-breaking groundbreaker came into being. 

 

From never-before-seen recordings of pre-production meetings, audition tapes and test footage to the actual shooting, first preview screenings and marketing at the Sundance Film Festival, all the key personnel guide you through the discussions and decisions that minted a shock sensation classic.  

 

 

THE TREATMENT

Director: Hans Herbots. Screenwriters: Mo Hayder, Carl Joos. Cast: Geert Van Rampelberg, Ina Geerts, Johan van Assche. 125 mins, Belgium, 2014.

"I can see you house from here Peter".

Nordic Noir turns frighteningly Flemish (yesch!) in Belgium’s top-grossing film of 2014.

Based on the chiller by acclaimed British author Mo Hayder and gut-wrenchingly harrowing to an unprecedented degree, nerves of steel are required to watch this truly shocking, emotionally jarring, viciously gritty, serial killer thriller. 

Inspector Nick Cafmeyer is haunted by the unsolved disappearance of his younger brother. 

A known sex offender (based, I'm told partly on your Uncle John) was questioned but quickly released and now takes fiendish pleasure in tormenting Nick by sending him unmarked postcards featuring wolves dressed as famous sportsmen. 

Now another spookily similar case comes to light involving a missing juvenile and Nick’s real nightmare begins.

[REC]: APOCALYPSE

Director: Jaume Balagueró. Screenwriters: Jaume Balagueró and Manu Diez. Cast: Manuela Velasco, Paco Manzenado, Héctor Colomé, 96 mins,.

Manuela Velasco: I love her AND she follows me on Twitter....my life is complete.

After unleashing the original [REC] onto unsuspecting audiences, Frightfest Glasgow is hosting the UK premiere of the shattering visceral conclusion to the global horror phenomenon.

 

Picking up the intense action immediately after [REC] 2 - expanding on the mythos from all three predecessors, plus referencing cult genre classics - TV reporter Ángela Vidal is extracted from the cursed apartment building and taken to a high-security quarantine facility aboard an oil tanker. 

 

There, in the bowels of the dark and desolate ship, Dr. Ricarte is experimenting with the infectious virus to find a cure before another living dead outbreak occurs.  

 

And finally we have....

 

THERE ARE MONSTERS

Director: Jay Dahl. Screenwriter: Jay Dahl. Cast: Matthew Amyotte, Jason Daley, Michael Ray Fox, 96 mins, Canada 2014.

"Aye hen!"

Monsters are taking over the world, slowly, quietly and efficiently, but you won’t see them coming until it’s far too late! 

 

Four film students embark on a road trip to obtain promotional interviews for their college, however en route they witness a series of odd events, strange behaviour, shocking actions and what seems to be surplus of twins (not mine). 

 

Their well-ordered universe literally changes before their camera lenses uncovering a terrifying secret lurking just under the seemingly calm urban landscape.  

 

With a promise to scare us out of our wits right from the start, there'll be slashed seats if this isn't the case.

And if that wasn't enough to get you moist don't forget there's still time to place a bet on which movie will make the wheelchair bound man walk out in disgust this year.

 

See you then!

sweet dreams.

I don't know what's more disturbing, the subject matter or the artwork.

I'd say enjoy but....