Cliched claptrap from the Blumhouse blender factory. A group of unbelievable researchers use ridiculous science to conjure up a melting pot of cliches we've seen done better elsewhere. Far too many well-worn ideas are crammed into the 83 minute running time resulting in an ultimately empty viewing experience. Can you tell I didn't really like this one?
Alterate title: Event Horizon on Elm Street Part 2: Oh Forget It
Howl
Not just werewolves on a train, but British Werewolves On A Train! Paul Hyett delivers a movie that's well thought out, tense and exciting, with some great performances and decent special effects. He still manages to lend the same gloomy sense of misery to landscape that he did with THE SEASONING HOUSE, and Hyatt is getting better with every film & I can't wait to see what he does next.
Alternate title: Werewolf Express
Bite
Girl with marriage and pregnancy anxieties gets bitten by Something on her hen weekend in some South American country. When she gets home the bite leaks gallons of pus & she starts spewing fish eggs everywhere. An extremely gloopy horror with questionable acting and writing that could all have been justified & explained if the right ending had been there. It wasn't.
Alternate title: Slime Girl From Beyond the Jungle
Emelie
Sexy psycho babysitter puts three children through cruelty for a not entirely satisfactory reason but who cares? This is unnerving stuff that's bound to strike a real chord with parents, if they can even bear to make it to the end. Not exactly original but it will make you squirm.
Alternate title: Strait Jackets Won't Hold Her
Tales of Halloween
A mega anthology picture that came as a bit of a shock to many (including me) because of its playful nature. Expect very little of serious intent in these eleven (yes eleven!) Halloween-themed stories & you'll have a good time. Best stories were probably Mike Mendez's Friday the 31st and Neil Marshall's mad killer pumpkin episode. Steer clear, though, if you are expecting something darker.
Alternate Title: October the Thirty-Worst
And that's it! It's 2.50am as I write these words, having just got back from the Frightfest after party at the Phoenix Artists Club. This weekend I have shaken Bernard Rose by the hand, hugged Barbara Crampton, told Pollyanna McIntosh she's sexy and generally had the most marvellous time. The above has all been written with the assistance of a large quantity of red wine so I apologise if it's not entirely coherent, but then neither were some of the TWENTY FIVE films I have watched over the last five days. I would do it all over again starting tomorrow if I could, but I'm just going to have to wait until next year. Frightfest 2016 just can't come soon enough.
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