pete tong.

Ye gads.

First Vanity and now Andrzej Żuławski.....The Arena is quickly turning into a cinema deadpool.

This time next week the whole thing will be full of hastily rewritten 'tribute' reviews in a vain attempt to get new (any) readers.

As is the norm, remember that this was first published in 2007 so apologises if it comes across as a semi-serious post.

I've learned my lesson since then. 

Possession (1981).
Dir: Andrzej Zulawski.
Cast: Sam Neill, Isabelle Adjani, Michael Hogben, Heinz Bennent and Dave The Octopus.

Bowl headed secret agent stick man Mark (dino' boffin and former Anti-Christ Neill) and his tres, tres foxy (if oh so slightly hat-stand) wife Anna (Adjani) live with their young (and even more bowl headed if that were possible) son Bob (Hogben) in the bleak and decaying yet painfully hip music video styled city of Berlin (playing itself).

So far so eighties.

Minimalist.

Mark, returning home after a dangerous mission harbours suspicions that his wife is conducting an illicit affair after coming across (not in that way, it wasn't that explicit) a love letter from a mysterious fella named Jeff Heinrich. 

His fragile state of mind isn't helped by the fact that Anna has recently confessed to having finding her hubbie boring as fuck.

Which is a fairly usual occurrence in my house.

Toothsome.

Deciding to try and talk thru their differences, Mark reckons it would be a great idea to go out to a local restaurant for some scrummy food and a chat  and even tho' he's booked two separate tables hopes for the best.

Or at least a wee fumble in the taxi home.

Unfortunately Anna admits to the affair during the main course (a really yummy looking seafood dish, I'll have to contact the director for the recipe someday) which unsurprisingly causes Mark to go absolutely bonkers, trashing the eatery and annoying the other couples with his pathetic wailing sound. 

Scarily Mark is actually surprised when Anna walks out on him, this time for good.

Taking this turn of events fairly badly - he's unshaven, stinks of piss and can barely speak without dribbling - Mark decides the best course of action is to keep ringing Anna and whispering "I love you!" to her every fifteen minutes whilst rocking to and fro in his bed like a big, dirty baby.

Albeit a big, dirty baby that once played Damien Thorn.

With all this family break up stuff going on you'd be forgiven for forgetting about poor wee Bob (tho' with that haircut it'd be bloody difficult), much like his parents have appeared to so it comes as a relief when Mark manages to pull himself together long enough to change his clothes, shave and feed the poor sod.

Bizarrely around the same time Anna suddenly remembers she has a son too and decides to visit.

Being the trouper that he is (or just a really bad actor) Bob sits thru his mum's return completely nonplussed, unlike his by now even more pathetic looking dad who spends the evening trying to convince Anna to leave Heinrich and come home to him and the boy.

Scarily this actually works and  after a reconciliation of sorts, Anna reluctantly agrees to Mark's embarrassingly snot filled demands.

Mark waits....and waits but Anna fails to come home.



Could things get any worse for our soon to be blockbuster starring paleontologist?

Actually no as things start to look up for Mark when he finds himself being drawn to one of Bob's teachers, the bookish Helen  who happens to be the double of his wife - except for her bright-and I mean bright- emerald eyes).


As you've probably guessed this is Adjani again, only this time in a pound shop wig and comedy specs. 

Genius.
 
Nothing says I love you more than an unhealthy obsession tho and although fairly attracted to Helen, Mark is still bloody annoyed at his wife’s infidelity so decides - in a fit of girly pique - to track down Heinrich and sort things out man to man.

Being a Eurotrash cum arthouse movie nothing is that simple and even tho' Heinrich (Bennent) looks like a camper, tubbier, gone to seed Udo Kier, he is in fact a completely fruit-loops karate kicking, bisexual mentalist who, after confessing to the affair kicks the absolute shite out of Mark.

Ouch.

Nursing a broken toe and a bruised ego Mark hurriedly heads back home with the fantastic plan of hiding under his bedsheets whilst indulging in a tearful wank and a Pot Noodle so is slightly pissed off on his return to find Anna sitting with Bob discussing the finer points of his dads masturbation habits.

As is the case in these situations a huge fight erupts culminating with the pair beating the crap out of each and Anna (very sexily) legging it up the street.

"It's ok hen, ya cannae see the join".

His grasp on reality growing ever thinner (much like his hair) Mark hires a private investigator to follow Anna home after her frequent visits to see her son whilst constantly begging and pleading with her to explain what's happening in their 'relationship'.

I've absolutely no idea how he's not figured out that she doesn't love him and is shagging someone else by now but hey, I once didn't realise that a girl I was seeing hadn't gone to the toilet during The Blob remake but was in fact having sex with a guy in the carpark even tho' the next time I saw her she was pregnant and engaged to him so there you go.

Obviously annoyed by all these questions (from both Mark and the audience) Anna decides to cut her throat with an electric carving knife. 

Mark, not to be outdone then slashes his arm with it.

Obviously unable to compete with this Anna grabs her jacket and flounces off but this time with the wedge-haircutted, Martin Fry-like PI in hot pursuit.

He sneakily follows her back to a dark, spooky apartment and, pretending to be some kind of expert on windows manages to gain entry to the flat. 

Once inside he starts to look for clues regarding Anna's secret life but is shocked (to say the least) to find not another man (or woman) but a gloopy, slimy, tentacled beast hiding in one of the darkened rooms, turning to leave he's confronted by Anna who then bludgeons him to death with a broken HP Sauce bottle.


Admit it, you never saw that coming.

Whilst all this is going on Helen visits to check on young Bob at home, giving Mark an excuse to go all weak kneed and puppy dog like. 

Which if I'm honest is way more stomach-churning than the bottling we just witnessed.

This visit seems to be a catalyst of sorts (either that or we've hit the halfway mark and there are no other characters to introduce) because suddenly he's getting more visitors than Blackpool Illuminations or your mum when your dad's away.

OK maybe not that many. 

Firstly Heinrich visits Mark, trying to find Anna, dancing about like your dad at a disco as he rants and raves about God and love (and possibly wittering on about the back catalogue of Man 2 Man and Man Parish) then Helen returns and strips naked in front of Mark for absolutely no reason.

And to make matters worse nothing happens.

David Lo Pan's dream date.

Amazingly up until this point Bob has been coping better than both his parents but what with his mum and dad slashing bits off each other, gay Germans prancing around the house in florid shirts and his teacher wandering around in the nude it was only a matter of time before he started feeling the strain too and suddenly starts crying in the corner whilst scoffing boxes of Mueller Lite till he's sick.
 
Mark, assuming this is a bad things lays off the obsessiveness for a while to spend some quality time comforting poor boy.

It's during one of these yoghurt-based bonding sessions the private investigator's business partner cum lover (literally) turns up looking for his man (which doesn't show his investigating skills, private or otherwise, in a good light really) and Mark, ever helpful,  gives him the address of Anna's apartment.

Anna was surprised at how
tall the new milkman was.

For a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown that shares a run down apartment with a tentacled cock monster Anna is quite friendly and polite to the 'tec, inviting him in and agreeing to take him to see his man friend, who she says, is in the same room as the slime covered beast.

Recoiling in fear (or maybe he's just jealous that such a skinny French bird could get all that cock) he tries to shoot Anna but his gun misfires and, screaming like only a mad woman can Anna wrestles the gun from him and 'pops a cap in his ass' as the youngsters say.

Meanwhile Mark is filing his days watching Heinrich's home video's of Anna at work at a ballet school, allegedly she's a top teacher but appears to spend most of her day abusing the students till they burst into tears, which causes Mark to think (now that's a first) that his wife may be suffering from some kind of mental illness (he's a perceptive one and no mistaking) and confronts her about this when she returns to his apartment looking for clothes.

Tho' surely he would have taken his keys back by now?

Never mind this is art we're watching, it's not meant to make sense.

A mad, mental (and very damp)
French woman yesterday.

Anna takes this very badly (no surprises there) and starts scratching herself violently, talking bollocks and indulging in freaky flashbacks that not only include her angrily grunting at a statue of Jesus in a church but also shouting and swearing in a deserted underpass whilst giving birth to a big red and black blob whilst oozing salad cream from every orifice.


Which, if I'm honest is quite possibly one of the sexiest things I have ever seen.

All this romantic chit-chat comes to an end when Heinrich phones Mark, it seems he wants Anna back too, so Mark obviously wanting to share the love gives him Anna's address whilst sneakily Mark forgetting to mention the breakdown, grunting, mutant baby birthing etc.

Yup, there's hope for him yet.

Later that day and armed only with a bunch of petrol station flowers Heinrich arrives at the apartment to get their relationship back on track.

I don't know what's more disturbing, the shitty flowers,
the white disco suit or the piss yellow flock wallpaper.

Anna appears happy to see Heinrich and invites him in for coffee, unfortunately she's forgotten that she's storing bits of bodies in her fridge and is living with a beast which means that Heinrich gets a wee bit scared when he goes to get the milk.

Being a woman and as always never one to overreact, Anna jumps on him and administers a good kicking before Heinrich manages to escape and call his new best mate Mark for help.

Come to think of it  the pair of them should hook up really, they've a lot in common.

Mark (having a window in his crying/whining/not having sex with his sons teacher diary) listens intently before formulating a frankly fantastic plan which involves turning up at Anna's apartment whilst she's at work and rigging the place up it with a shed load of dynamite before going to meet Heinrich in a seedy toilet to celebrate.


Heinrich by this point is a bit nervous, pissing uncontrollably over his shoes and demanding hush money from Mark.

Unfortunately he (and us if you're honest) have forgotten that Mark is a secret agent so his reply is fairly Bondian.

No he doesn't shag him to a lush John Barry score but beats him into unconsciousness before drowning him in a cubicle.



Then he blows up Anna's flat.

Chuckling happily to himself Mark returns home with a plan to relax with some more fast food fist fun but instead finds the babysitter dead on the hall carpet.

On the plus side tho' Anna is sitting seductively on the sofa and in need of the sex. 

Mark is happy to oblige but just at the moment of climax gets annoyed by Bob wandering in and screaming at the sight of Sam Neill's skinny pink arse thrusting atop his mum.

This turn of events causes Anna to run off.

Again.

As he's about to give chase Heinrich's mum rings looking for her son and Mark (forgetting to mention that he's killed Heinrich, look he's busy) quickly hangs up deciding that it's time to confront Anna once and for all and after getting Helen to babysit Bob (which is becoming a dangerous thing to do) arranges to meet Anna at Heinrich's pad.

yup....it's an eggy one.

Finding the door ajar and hearing a strange moaning noise coming from inside Mark sneaks into the apartment only to find Anna having sweaty, sticky (and very oozy) naked tentacled sex with the cock creature moaning "Almost....almost.....almost" repeatedly as it undulates and thrust upon her.....

"Put it in me!" "Which one?"

And if that wasn't enough to justify the rental fee, it now appears that Mark's spy bosses have decided that they want him dead (how's your luck?), cue an exciting chase scene that would make Jason Bourne green with envy which culminates with Mark, bloodied and broken calling on Anna for help.

She appears, her 'lover' in tow, only now it looks exactly like Mark.

And to make matters worse the shadowy assassins have also arrived, intent on killing the real Mark.....

Much has been written regarding director Andrzej Zulawski's genre defying Possession, mostly by people much cleverer and way better at spelling than me but heyho, I'll give it a shot. 

At once a perfect example of film as therapy (Zulawski is on record as saying the film was made to exorcise the demons of his recent divorce), a rallying cry against state sanctioned film production and a dry look at life in a fractured city, It's a film that challenges the viewer on every level.

Shit, did I really just type that?

This is beginning to look like an issue of Sight And Sound.

A pale French beauty...in ankle socks.

Sam Neill and Isabelle Adjani give absolutely magnificent performances, as does the great Heinz Bennent who is almost precursor to Frank Booth in David Lynch's masterpiece Blue Velvet whilst Carlo Rambaldi's humanoid/squid/cock hybrid makes you almost forgive him for unleashing ET on the world.

But not quite.

Anyway before any of you start to think that this is a serious cinema blog you have to imagine the effect the movie had on an impressionable 12 year old boy who sneakily got his hands on it after reading the rave review Starburst magazine gave it.

Sod the guff about art, cinema and challenging performances it had an exotic raven haired, pale skinned foreign actress having sex with a monster in it!!!

And for that I salute you Mr. Zulawski.

God bless and thank you.

spunky monkey.

Just heard this morning the sad news that former Prince plaything, lead singer with sexy supergroup Vanity 6 and latter day (as in later in life not as in Mormon) born again Christian Denise Matthews has died so I thought I'd dig up this review of possibly her greatest movie role in a way of tribute.

To be honest tho' it's the only film of hers that I’ve ever reviewed and I'm too busy today to go watch Action Jackson. 

As an aside it's from way back in 2009 before I realised that no-one actually reads my blog so excuse the fact that it's fairly well written and features absolutely no 'mooth shite' comments.

Ah youth.



Tanya's Island (1980).
Dir: Alfred Sole.
Cast: Denise Matthews (as D.D. Winters), Richard Sargent, Don McCleod, Mariette Lévesque, Donny Burns and a monkey.

Olive of skin and dusky of eye Tanya (the reason we are here) is looking to make it big in the film business. She has the attitude and the looks but alas, not the time keeping skills needed seeing as she's continually late on set due to her unhealthy obsession with power walking whilst listening to lush, sub Jerry Goldsmith style music.

For her big haired producer Kelly (French ex popstrel and star of the fantastic Sex in the Snow, Lévesque) this is the final straw, warning Tanya that her personal life (and her constant jogging) has to take a back seat if she wants to make it big in the business they call show.

If that wasn't enough to ruin her whole week then the fact that her bushily bearded beau Lobo (unfortunately not the Tor Johnson character from Bride of the Atom but bit part legend Sargent) has decided that this will be the best day to dump her might just clinch it.

Not too surprisingly a bloody big argument ensues, ending with poor Tanya storming (well jogging) back home to gorge herself on chocolate and watch a true life drama on Movies 24.

Well she is female.

Curled up on the sofa with congealed snot and melted Hagen Das all over her face Tanya begins to hear a strange grunting cum groaning sound from her bedroom (tho' it may be the sound quality of my ancient VHS) and in best Nancy Drew manner, tiptoes upstairs to investigate.

Upon opening her bedroom door she's shocked to find not an asthmatic intruder but hundreds of flickering candles leading to a soft core title sequence featuring Vanity rubbing her breasts whilst mouthing "Come to me...."

Which is nice.

...and her breasts, her frightening
bush and shiny flat tummy.

Waking as if from a (wet) dream, Tanya finds herself on an idyllic island paradise alongside hunky Lobo and a big white horse (did someone say symbolism?), where they apparently live a simple and carefree existence; Lobo spending his days painting and catching fish whilst Tanya idles away the hours riding around topless on the horse.

So far so erotically charged.

Probably.

After what seems like days of soft focus shots of Tanya jiggling on a pony in slow motion whilst Lobo looks on lustfully in his big white, homemade nappy our titular heroine, whilst exploring the jungle finds herself being pelted with fruit from the bushes.

Thinking that there may be a local shop just over the horizon (and needing some hairspray) Tanya decides to go take a look.

Stumbling sexily thru' the undergrowth she soon comes across a dark, foreboding cave which she cautiously enters.

Could this be a metaphor?

Well we've no time to think it thru' because no sooner has she popped her head around the corner that she meets the caves owner.

Which bizarrely enough appears to be Donald Trump.

No, my mistake it's actually a huge, man breasted Gorilla with an 80's soft rock mullet.

Easy mistake to make.

Tanya, frightened by the hairstyle on show runs away in terror but realizing that it's the first interesting thing to happen so far in the movie returns to the cave to let the big ape put flowers in her hair whilst stroking her fingers in a saucy (for a monkey) manner.

Tanya names the ape Blue on account of his bright blue eyes (luckily she hadn't seen his bright pink arse yet) and decides he's a far better conversationalist and not to mention a much less messy eater than poor Lobo whom she soon abandons to his fish.

The poor guy is distraught at the thought that his girlfriend may be secretly seeing someone else (you can tell he's in emotional turmoil because their frequent and unnecessary love making scenes have gone from loving slo-mo beach frolics to cum face close ups of him taking her from behind in a tent) so decides to follow her on one of her daily jaunts and discover the truth.

Vanity, up the casino, 1980....Yesch!

Lobo, doing what any sane man would do when faced with such a dilemma, builds a huge bamboo cage and traps Blue by constructing a scale model of Tanya out of bananas to lure him inside before banging the walls and slapping him with a stick whilst singing Daydream Believer.

Tanya is, not too surprisingly, upset by these turn of events and also a wee bit scared of Lobo's almost animalistic rage.

Tho' this may be a sign of discomfort and sore knees due to the constant shagging she's having to endure as he exerts his manliness.

Bored with spanking the monkey, Lobo insists that Tanya accompanies him to the other side of the island, as far away from Blue as possible so that they can carry on their simple life as before, but with the rougher sex obviously but Tanya refuses (her knees are red raw) and late one night frees Blue.

Lobo is furious, popping a saucepan on his head as a makeshift helmet before locking Tanya in the cage and dancing around like your dad at a wedding.

You can tell it's only a matter of time before someone's going to end up dead can't you?

Lobo is big leggy.

Blue who, up until this point has been the very model of decorum, has had enough of all this man-based mentalism thinking fuck you all before violently throwing loads of coconuts and mango's at the pair, forcing Lobo to hide in the cage too.

Who is the real animal?

Clue: that'll be the monkey then.

Will Lobo and Blue learn to share?

Will it all be a dream?

Or will Blue kill Lobo before chasing Tayna into the jungle howling, only stopping to jump on the poor girl before taking her up the arse whilst she screams in blue tinted slow motion?

And then it all be a dream?

Go on, guess.

No need.

Tanya's Island is a film that really needs to be experienced first hand as no amount of musings or reviews can ever hope to encapsulate the sheer ludicrousness and clumsy sixth form artistic pretensions on display.

Producer Pierre Brousseau's minimalist script comes across like a youth theatre version of Walerian Borowczyk's The Beast but without any of that arthouse cum sleaze epics genuinely erotic qualities, nightmarish visions of female sexuality and, more importantly minus it's fantastic 13 inch ejaculating rubber cock.

The film clumsily lurches from one scene to the next like some crippled drunk staggering home after a night on the tiles, director Sole (who made the fantastic Alice Sweet Alice) mistaking blurry shagging and lip biting for artistic erotica and deciding that a man in a monkey suit (scarily designed by Rick Baker and Rob Bottin on what must have been a slow day) wrestling a bearded bloke in a pair of dirty Pampers would be the subtlest way to show an audience that civilised man is but a savage beast at heart.

Sir, I salute you.

Which is more than I'd do to the cast, seeing as it's much like viewing three large pieces of plywood stomping around a garden centre with the subtlest performance being from a piglet that unfortunately gets killed less than halfway thru.

Sargent is all big kneed, pube permed and shouty whilst Vanity only seems to have been cast due to the fact that her breasts look not bad when sprayed with fake sweat and that she has no shame when it comes to feigning horror whilst being forcibly shagged by a gorilla.

Somehow she never mentions this movie in interviews and appears to be less embarrassed by the fact that she let Prince put it in her.

No wonder she was born again.

It's a strange old world.

profondo mondo.

For your listening enjoyment The Arena presents Profondo Mondo.

A cornucopia of cult cuts and black gloved beats celebrating the best of Eurotrash cinema and beyond.

Download here.

 

.

tubby time.

This has been sitting in a cupboard ignored for about a year now.

A wee bit like your mum.

And like her I thought I'd give it a whirl seeing as I had nowt better to do as I was expecting it to be a bit pants.

Blooming flip was I mistaken.

By the way, if you fancy it go to it cold and read this review after viewing.

You'll thank me for it later.

Unless of course you hate it then no doubt more death threats will follow.

But frankly if you do hate it then you're no pal of mine.

Enjoy.

Creep (2014).
Dir:  Patrick Brice.
Cast:  Patrick Brice and Mark Duplass.

"When you were here before,
Couldn't look you in the eye,
You're just like an angel,
Your skin makes me cry,
You float like a feather,
In a beautiful world,
I wish I was special,
Now shut the fuck up 
or I'll bum you whilst 
wearing this 
Chucklehounds mask"

Furry chinned cine-guy Aaron (Co-writer and director Brice) has recently replied to an ad on Craiglist (Which is, for those that don't know a classified ads website with sections devoted to jobs, housing, 'personals', stuff for sale, items wanted, 'services', community, gigs, résumés, and discussion forums....think Gumtree but with more chances of having sex with someone’s gran) from the bowl-haired - and terminally ill - Josef (Duplass channelling a post breakdown Crackerjack star Stu Francis).

The job is simple, all Aaron has to do is record a series of video of Josef waxing lyrical to his unborn son.

How sweet.

Things get off to a slightly uncomfortable start tho' when the first thing that Aaron is asked to film is Josef, stark bollock naked in a bath tub pretending to give his invisible baby a bath before pretending to drown himself in a fit of depression.

But not to worry as Josef tells a visibly shaken Aaron, he only did it for a laugh.

Which you must admit is the same reason that your parents decided to keep you.

To clear the air (well Aaron did almost shit himself)  Josef suggests that the pair take a quick hike up to a heart-shaped pool that it is said - in local legends - to cure all ills.

Anyway, whilst getting a winter jacket out of the cupboard, Aaron is startled to find a (frankly shoddy as fuck if I'm honest) wolf mask sitting on the top shelf.

Grrrrrr.

Luckily and before Aaron legs it home thinking his employer is a mentalist,  Josef explains that his father used to wear the mask around the house and pretend to be a friendly wolf named Peachfuzz who would sing and dance to entertain him as a child.

Nope, nowt sinister there.

"Ooooh I could rape a turkey!"

Having a fun time in the woods and splashing about in the pond, Aaron's day seem to be going well with only Josef's habit of intermittently jumping out from behind rocks and shouting "Arse!" putting a damper on the proceedings but  Josef, aware of Aaron's nervous nature, apologies for having what he calls  "a weird sense of humour".

Which is a polite way of saying he's an annoying cunt if I'm honest.

Enjoying some fairly disappointing pancakes (what is it about this film and your mum?) at a handy roadside restaurant after their day hiking, Josef admits to hiding in the bushes and taking photos of Aaron before they met.

His reason?

Well according to it he wanted to get to know him before speaking to him in person.

Sounds legit.

It's OK tho' because Josef apologizes profusely before adding that he reckons that Aaron has a wee bit of an animal inside him that's just itching to escape.

Heading back to Josef's house after a hard days filming, Josef asks Aaron to stay for a farewell drink before leaving and Aaron being a bit of a pussy if I'm honest agrees.

I mean it's not like the day can get any stranger is it?

"Hello French Polishers? You might just be able to save my life!"

Supping away at a glass of cheap whiskey Josef asks Aaron to turn off the camera as he has a confession to make.

Aaron agrees but sneakily leaves the sound recording, capturing the almost You've Been Framed quality moment when Josef admitted that he lied about his dad owning Peachfuzz.

But that's not all.

It seems that years back Josef was concerned that his wife was addicted to animal porn (whose isn’t?) so after taking her to the summer house for a weekend away pretended to be called into work leaving her home alone.

And this is where the similarities to that movie end.

Unless of course you believe the rumours regarding Daniel Stern.

Anyway in reality he'd actually just sneaked out to the local hardware store where he purchased the aforementioned mask.

But why? I hear you cry.

So that he could break into the house, tie her to the bed and violently bugger her whilst wearing it of course.

By now Aaron is beginning to question whether this is really worth the twenty quid he's charging for the day and hastily gets up to leave only to find out that, uh oh, his car keys have gone missing.

Josef says he can stay the night.

In a frankly fab case of quick thinking, Aaaron agrees and offers to pour them another drink - but not before lacing it with cough medicine  which causes Josef to fall asleep and begin fiddling with his penis.

At last, one of your dads habits gets a nod.

Whilst frantically searching for his keys Josef's phone suddenly starts ringing and Aaron quickly answers it before hiding in a cupboard.

Aaron assumes that the call is Mavis, Josef's 'wife' but she quickly explains that she's really his sister and that Aaron needs to get out of the house as soon as he can on the grounds that Josef is in fact a fucking fruitloop.

"Spice Girls number one for Christmas.....MONSTA!"

Running thru' the kitchen to grab his coat Aaron finds Josef gone, desperately searching for him in a girlie panic before finding his hairy host blocking the front door whilst gyrating and growling in the Peachfuzz mask lookin all the world like Barry Chuckle on crack.

Which, if I'm honest is probably one of the most disturbing things ever committed to celluloid.

Frankly bored - and a little perturbed by Josef's shenanigans, Aaron charges at him and suddenly the camera goes black.

As in the picture obviously, I mean the camera housing is already a nice matt black plastic finish anyway....it's not a kiddies V-Tech one.

V-Tech - For kids (massive overbite not included).

Don't panic tho' as Aaron is OK.

And more importantly you've not been fleeced by a paying full price for a really short movie.

You see the video resumes with Aaron informing us that he escaped Josef's house and made it home safely - albeit with slightly soiled underwear, but he's a wee bit concerned as he's recently received a DVD in the mail featuring our mental mate Josef burying some suspicious-looking bin bags in the woods.

Aaron, understandably thinks it is meant as a threat.

That's not all tho' as the 'gifts' continue to come; first  Josef sends him a huge carton containing a knife and a stuffed wolf alongside yet another DVD - this one featuring Josef apologizing for the last one and a request that he use the knife to cut open the cuddly wolf.

Which sounds quite reasonable if you ask me.

Which you didn't so I'll shut up.

Intrigued as to why, Aaron carefully cuts open the wolf to find a heart-shaped  locket inside with Josef's and Aaron's pictures in it.

But Aaron, being a fairly ungrateful bastard chucks in the bin.

Which as you can probably guess doesn't go down too well With Josef.

As the messages continue and the police seem unable (or unwilling) to help Aaron begins to become more paranoid with every sleepless night until the fateful day that he receives one last message from Josef, asking him to come to the park near his house to allow him to explain everything and finally "give them closure".....

Hmmm.....

"Five fingers...never touched the sides."

Patrick Brice's Creep is a genuinely unnerving, cut back - and bad - to the bone chiller that packs more uncomfortable situations and stuttering strangeness into it's scarily short 78 minutes than most films with twice the number of cast members and five times the budget could even attempt to.

Almost theatre-like in it's (twitchy) two-hander approach to the subject matter, both leads give everything they've got to make the situation more and more unbearable (yet frighteningly plausible) as the film unfolds, Duplass especially is a joy to watch bringing a genuine pathos to Josef - we want to spend time with him even tho' we know it's going to end badly just to see what hideously inappropriate confession he's gonna make next.

If anything it's the kind of movie you can't say much about except for watch it now and see what a true auteur can achieve within the found footage framework.

Recommended.

And I don't often say that.

And hardly ever about your mum.

game on.

These games.

Why?

that thing you do.

In tribute to John Carpenter's birthday enjoy these mixes of music from the mouth of madness.

Click here to download volume one

and here for volume two.

Enjoy.

the power of voodoo

Very weird to be penning something (semi) serious on here but heyho, nice to keep you on your toes.

I felt that David Bowie's passing deserved at least a mention but what can I say about ‪Bowie‬ that hasn't already been said by people so much more eloquent than myself....except maybe THANK YOU for making growing up for those of us who've ever felt a wee bit different or alone much more bearable.

Here as a wee tribute is my overview of Labyrinth which is quite possibly one of THE greatest movies of all time.
Fact.
Oh and it's one of the very few films I've taken a girl to see where I haven't been dumped immediately afterwards.
Which has happened far more often than I care to remember. 
Originally published in the first issue of Multitude of Movies magazine (go now and buy back issues, I'll still be here when you get back), last year sit back and enjoy probably the only thing I'll ever write that isn't full of childish innuendo and an abundance of 'mooth shite-in' references.
Change is as good as a rest I guess.
Oh and as an added bonus there's a prize for anyone who can list all the Bowie references scattered throughout.


Labyrinth (1986).
Dir: Jim Henson.
Cast: David Bowie, Jennifer Connelly, some Goblins, a wee baby and Ludo as himself.

1986 was a fantastic year to be a young film fan, sixteen years old and preparing for life in the big bad world (well art school at least) and a myriad of classic releases taking in everything from sci-fi sequels (Aliens) to horror redux (The Fly) via Hannibal Lecter's first big screen appearance to help ease any concerns or worries.
Yup, definitely a year with something for everyone.

There was one movie that year though that seemed somewhat out of place and time, an odd mix of children’s musical fantasy and (PG friendly, thankfully) coming of age sexual symbolism usually found in the works of Angela Carter (whose Company of Wolves had made it to the screen two years earlier).

A movie that scarily dared to mix not only one of the worlds most celebrated musicians, arguably at the height of his success and armed with the most terrifying codpiece in the history of cinema with a shed load of friendly-faced Jim Henson creations but have the audacity to cement the whole thing together with a story by TV funster Terry Jones who at this point appeared to be more interested in channelling Maurice Sendak than Monty Python.

To call it a risky venture would seem a fair appraisal but in the days when creativity ruled over accountancy and imagination was king it comes as no surprise that not only did the movie get made but that, with hindsight, it's widely regarded as a classic of it's kind.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you...

Labyrinth.

And for those sad, lonely few not familiar with plot...

The totally self absorbed but utterly gorgeous Sarah (Jennifer Connelly, fresh from befriending bugs in Dario Argento's Phenomena) is spending a lazy afternoon, as she does day in and day out, reciting lines from her favourite book – also named 'Labyrinth', spooky eh? – to her pet pooch in the park blissfully unaware that it's nearly seven o' clock and time for her to return to humdrum normality and babysit her scarily big headed brother Toby whilst her cuddly dad and harsh faced stepmum (isn't it always the way?) head out for a night on the town.

Arriving home wet, dishevelled and late alongside a mud covered mutt it's not too surprising that Sarah and her stepmum get into a blazing row regarding responsibilities, acceptable waistcoat fa..fa..fashions and babysitting resulting in our heroine, who being immune to her elders consultations, storming off to her room as the adults flounce off to the bingo or whatever it is that eighties parents did on night outs with a thinly veiled threat of some ch...ch...changes being made on their return.

Sprawled across her bed with a face of fizz and a head full of teen angst Sarah dares to imagine how her life could get any worse before realising that it already has.

Brace yourselves dear reader because her favourite teddy bear, Lancelot, has gone missing from her room.

Stomping around the house in a manner usually reserved for club footed drunks and soon-to-be superstars, Sarah soon finds her furry friend in Toby's room and cries out in anger at her tiny step-sibling which, in turn causes Toby to start crying loudly whilst evacuating all the snot from his tiny body.

Luckily Sarah is an old hand at babysitting and decides to use the oldest trick in the book to calm the troubled tot.

You know the one I mean, it's when you stiffly (and loudly) make up a story where a besotted Goblin King falls in love with a beautiful china (skinned) girl whose annoying brat of a brother mysteriously vanishes leaving the girl to enjoy her bear obsession in peace.

It may come as a surprise then to discover that this is exactly what happens because bizarrely enough the owl silhouetted in the serious moonlight on Sarah's window ledge is, in fact, Jareth, the flamboyant King of the Goblins who in an attempt to win Sarah's hand (and probably the rest of her too) has actually granted her wish.

Realising that this possibly wont go down to well with her folks Sarah begs for him to return Toby but Jareth, being a tricky Goblin kind of guy and literal lad insane instead transports them both to the ominous Labyrinth (see what they did there?) where he promises Sarah that in order to see Toby again she must not only solve his diabolically complex conundrums but also do battle with various scary monsters (and sundry super creeps) whilst making it to his castle within thirteen hours.

And if she doesn't?

Then tiny Toby will be transformed into a goblin.

Forever.

Sarah, ignoring the fact that she's under pressure, tries to reason with Jareth but soon comes to realise that it's as useful as putting out fire with gasoline so decides to take the challenge.

But will our heroine succeed in her quest?

Go on, take a guess.

After building a successful working relationship during the production of the fantasy adventure The Dark Crystal, Muppet guru Jim Henson and acclaimed fantasy illustrator Brian Froud began work on concepts and ideas for a second film together after a discussion in the back of a limousine on the way back from a screening of the aforementioned movie, bringing in children's author Dennis Lee to pen a storyline that could be used not only as the basis for the script but also as a tie-in novella.

With this treatment completed in late '83 Henson (on his daughters recommendation) hired ex-Monty Python prankster Terry Jones to pen the first draft of the film's script.

Reportedly Jones “didn't get along” with Lees poetic – and unfinished – piece and returned to Froud for inspiration, not only to his artwork but also to the artists almost frightening knowledge of goblin law and legend, particularly their penchant for stealing babies.

Drawing heavily on these illustrations as well as the recently published Maurice Sendak book Outside Over There for inspiration (the film actually acknowledges Sendak in the closing titles) Jones' much darker script passed through various other writers hands, including those of executive producer George Lucas and Henson stalwart Elaine May, with at least twenty five versions being written before production began in 1985 although Jones receives solo screenplay credit.

Apart from the tonal shift from Jones' original story the biggest change came with the casting of David Bowie. Mysterious and unseen in the original drafts and planned to be realised in puppet form, Jareth The Goblin King now took centre stage.

In Henson's mind Bowie was the perfect representation of “the sexuality, danger and the disturbing aspects of the adult world” whilst in return the singer saw Labyrinth as the perfect chance to return to the music-writing aspect of films and after his work on The Hunger, Cat People and Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence was delighted to be involved in a project aimed at children “of all ages.”

With a team comprising of puppeteers ranging from veteran performers Frank Oz, Dave Goelz and members of the Fraggle Rock and Sesame Street team to newcomers poached from TV's Spitting Image alongside a myriad of circus performers, acrobats alongside soon to be stars such as Danny John Jules and Warwick Davis, Labyrinth began shooting at Elstree Studios in April 1985 and took five months to complete which, when you realise that the majority of effects were achieved 'in camera' seems a remarkably short amount of time given the films scope and scale.

In fact it still holds the world record for the largest panoramic back-cloth ever constructed for a film as well as being the first motion picture to feature a fully realised CGI animal in the owl from the films title sequence.

Which is slightly bizarre yet strangely in keeping with the feel of the movie.

Editing duties were shared between John Grover (credited), Henson and Lucas with the director hoping the collaboration would achieve the right balance between his own 'softly softly' approach and Lucas' 'faster, more intense' school of film-making.

No doubt poor Grover was sent out to fetch the coffee.

With a score by South African born synth wizard Trevor Jones, whose career in film began with the John Boorman take on the Arthurian Legend Excalibur and with whom Henson had previously worked on The Dark Crystal complemented by five new songs from Bowie hopes were high for the films success with the production being featured everywhere from The New York Times to the late lamented Starlog via Billboard Magazine with emphasis being given not only to the films massive scale and non-human cast but also to David Bowie's return to the screen.

Add to that a budget of $25 million and the pulling power of Henson, Lucas and Dame David things were looking rosy for Labyrinth and the film opened in North America on 27th June 1986 followed by a staggered worldwide release (remember them?) culminating with a prestigious royal première on 1st December 1986 with the Prince and Princess of Wales in attendance.

Unfortunately critical reaction was mixed, with praise being heaped on Henson's imagination and the films bold visual style whilst bemoaning its lack of originality in its plotting.

Bizarrest of all though must be Gene Siskel's review in the Chicago Tribune which accused the film of being visually ugly and overtly violent with the baby in peril plot being an “unforgivably sleazy gimmick.”

Which is nice.

Only managing to claw back half of its budget during its U.S theatrical run, Labyrinth's commercial failure of the film demoralized Henson to the extent that he never directed another movie, which must rank alongside Ken Russell's inability to secure funding and Michael Powell's ostracising after Peeping Tom as one of cinemas great crimes.

Well that and the success of The Babadook obviously.

The golden years of Henson's imagination fuelled fantasies were over.

And the world would be a darker place because of that.

But just as Sarah managed to find her way through the films Labyrinth so the viewing public finally discovered this hidden gem, thanks in part to it's availability on home video (big oblong plastic things that used to house movies in the dark old days – ask your mum or dad) and, in the early 90's through it's screenings on the newly created Disney Channel. Even the critical response to the film had softened somewhat since its initial release with even the formerly frumpy Chicago Tribune calling it “...a real masterpiece of puppetry and special effects, an absolutely gorgeous children's fantasy movie."

And thanks to child friendly cinema shows and its original audience becoming parents themselves Labyrinth is now more accessible than The Dark Crystal, with each new generation it's audience grows as more and more children fall under Jareth's spell. Only recently I had the pleasure of experiencing the film on the big screen with my own children who, alongside both parents and podlings in attendance were spellbound for the entire running time, almost hypnotised by the events on screen.

Except during 'Magic Dance' obviously when they all went batshit, dancing in the aisles and chucking their younger siblings around like sacks of spuds.

The biggest measure of it's new found success though must be The Labyrinth of Jareth Masquerade Ball, held every year in Los Angeles since 1997. An event which has grown from merely celebrating the movie to an art event in it's own right, featuring as it does circus performers, a myriad of entertainers and art over a two day period.

Jareth himself would be proud.

But what of the future for The Goblin King, dear Sarah and Toby?

What of their lives after Labyrinth?

Unfortunately for those wanting more a mooted Neil Gaiman/Dave McKean sequel was dropped at the discussion stage, mutating as it did into MirrorMask (taking with it ideas for a Dark Crystal prequel on the way) partly due to Lucasfilm co-owning the rights to the movie and George not needing the cash but probably more likely to do with the fact that he was annoyed that no-one had asked for a Willow sequel.

Probably.

As luck would have it a sequel did appear in 2006 when Tokyopop, the American distributor and publisher of all things anime and manga (amongst other things) released a four-volume comic series Return to Labyrinth to much fan praise but mostly critical apathy.

The more things change eh?

Written by journalist Jake T. Forbes and illustrated by Chris Lie, Return takes place around thirteen years after the events of the movie and this time centres around a teenage Toby and his bond with The Goblin King.

Unfortunately whilst its premise may be sound it suffers somewhat from an overuse of pop culture references (everything from The Wizard of Oz to Star Wars via Star Trek: Voyager) which only works to date the piece and alienate the non geek readership in a way the source material didn't, which is a shame as the plot, as cliched as it may seem improves with each volume and brings the story arc full circle adding closure to Sarah and Toby's relationship.

And beyond that?

Who knows though with modern cinemas almost undead attraction to devouring it's past don't be too surprised if a remake is announced over the next few years with a post rehab Justin Bieber as Jareth alongside a hideously expensive fully CGI realised cast of creatures.

God what a depressing thought.

I should really cheer myself up....now where's that baby I'm meant to be watching?