THE COST

Stars: Jordan Fraser-Trumble, Damon Hunter, Kevin Dee, Clayton Watson and Nicole Pastor.
Writers: Matthew Holmes and Gregory Moss.
Director: Matthew Holmes.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ½

Reviewed at Monster Fest Sydney on Saturday December 10 at Event Cinemas George Street.

Two men grieving the loss of their beloved wife/sister at the hands of murdering rapist decide to unleash their own brand of vengeance in director Matthew Holmes’ morally problematic dramatic thriller, The Cost. This superbly acted, compellingly staged study in vigilante psychology will be too grey-shaded for some, who may interpret the narrative trajectory as a pro-argument for personal justice; others, with an ‘eye for an eye’ perspective on criminal punishment, will lap up scenes of brutal payback.

Widower David (Jordan Fraser-Trumble; top, right) and sibling Aaron (Damon Hunter; top, centre) have planned with premeditated cunning the abduction of sad loner Troy (Kevin Dee). Seizing him late one night, the steely-eyed kidnappers head deep into the Australian bush, where they make their motivations and intentions clear - the 10 years that Troy served for the sexual assault and killing of Stephanie (Nicole Pastor, in flashback; below) is nowhere near sufficient retribution for his coldhearted homicidal impulses.

Early indications that Holmes’ follow-up to his bushranger hagiography The Legend of Ben Hall will be little more than Oz torture-porn dissipate as skilfully layered back story is revealed. Developments that will have the more thoughtful genre audience pondering address the role that sentencing and non-parole periods play in meeting survivor expectations; the ages-old ‘let the punishment fit the crime’ argument; and what, if anything, stops the vigilante becoming the same horribly myopic killer that he deems unworthy for life.

It is the ‘He’ in that last sentence that most resonates. David and Aaron are two middle-class white males, a social status that comes with an ingrained sense of entitlement (search ‘vigilante films’, and you mostly see actors like Clint Eastwood, Kevin Sorbo, Tom Berenger, Jim Belushi, Steven Seagal, Bruce Willis, Nicholas Cage and Mel Gibson). Holmes and co-writer Gregory Moss construct protagonists that willingly accept the righteousness in acting above the judicial structure (Troy has been caught, prosecuted and sentenced fully in the eyes of our legal system). This imbues their ‘justice for Stephanie’ renegade with a false logic and own dangerous mental instability. 

The ‘vigilante anti-hero’ sub-genre that allows for unlawful punishment to seem justified works best in a lawless setting, be that literally (Mad Max, 1979; The Star Chamber, 1983) or figuratively (Taxi Driver, 1976; Munich, 2005). There’s a great deal of integrity and complexity in The Cost, but also a healthy dose of genre DNA that aligns it with the ugliness of Charles Bronson’s blackhearted Death Wish films. It will be in the post-screening discussions and what it exposes in those who seek it out that the real value of the film will emerge.

THE TUNNEL: THE OTHER SIDE OF DARKNESS

Featuring: Enzo Tedeschi, Julian Harvey, Carlo Ledesma, Andy Rodoreda, Bel Deliá, Luke Arnold, Steve Davis, Eduardo Sanchez, Ahmed Salama and Andrew Mackie.
Director: Adrian Nugent

Reviewed Sunday December 5 at Monster Fest 2021, Cinema Nova, Melbourne.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

The key players at the centre of a unique moment in Australian cinema history reflect upon their achievements in The Tunnel: The Other Side of Darkness. Recounting the emerging technology, gathering of personalities, indie-film landscape and distribution infrastructure that smashed together and created the headline-grabber that was 2011’s The Tunnel, director Adrian Nugent’s deep-dive into the blind ambition and unshakeable faith behind the found-footage shocker is a must-see for genre fans and, more importantly, wannabe filmmakers everywhere (pictured, above: actress Bel Deliá and director Carlo Ledesma). 

When the production triumvirate of producer Enzo Tedeschi, writer Julian Harvey and director Carlo Ledesma decided to film a horror/thriller in the abandoned subway tunnels under Sydney’s CBD, elements such as budget constraints, daunting location logistics and the sector’s indifference to genre projects should have been key indicators that The Tunnel was not the best idea for a first feature. 

But the project was coalescing at a time when crowdfunding was peaking and Tedeschi, an understated but driven creative executive, brought old-school showmanship to the new filmmaking paradigm; he sold frames of his yet-to-shoot film for a dollar, counting on a secure production budget materialising ahead of lensing. He and Harvey then made the call that grabbed the industry’s attention - the film would go out free as a BitTorrent stream. The recognised tool of the video piracy criminal underworld would be used as a legitimate distribution platform.

The Tunnel: The Other Side of Darkness melds archival digital footage (as crisp now as when it was shot 11 years ago) with the recollections of many associated with the film. Cast members including Luke Arnold, Bel Deliá, Andy Rodoreda and Steve Davis, all front to recount the sense of community, unshakeable commitment and inevitable corner-cutting synonymous with independent film sets. The best ‘I-still-can’t-believe-it’ moment is when, posing as their news crew characters, the actors blend in with real-life journos at a press conference held by then-prime minister, Julia Gillard.

Although it veers very close to ‘insider only’ territory, the historical context in which Nugent and, on-camera, Tedeschi and Harvey recall life as BitTorrent denizens is no less compelling. The global trade-paper coverage of the film’s ultimate acquisition by local Paramount Studios' subsidiary Transmission Films and how damaging to all involved the ‘Studio Giant in Bed with Piracy Partner’ headlines became is behind-the-scenes gold (pictured, above: l-r, producer Enzo Tedeschi and writer Julian Harvey).        

One revelation left unexplored is in answer to the indelicate question - did The Tunnel make any money? It wrapped largely on budget and, at last count, the film had an estimated viral audience of 25 million views. But in the decade since The Tunnel crowd-surfed into existence, no major productions immediately come to mind that adopted the same distribution methodology. The documentary cites as creative inspiration that found-footage benchmark, The Blair Witch Project (co-director Eduardo Sanchez is a guest interviewee), but that film was a black ink-soaked blockbuster. Was the aim to get the film seen and/or turn a profit?

Irrespective of such crass considerations, the cult of The Tunnel is undeniable; Tedeschi recalls with pride a bucket-list moment when a chance meeting with Quentin Tarantino revealed the celebrated auteur as a Tunnel fan. And the influence of Harvey’s narrative and Ledesma’s visual stylings has resonated - check out the first episode of streaming service Shudder’s latest horror hit V/H/S 94 to see a terrific riff on life under a big city. 

The Tunnel: The Other Side of Darkness is a complete and compelling end-to-end account of independent production ingenuity and the passion it requires and inspires.

TALES OF THE UNCANNY

Featuring: Kier-La Janisse, David Gregory, Eli Roth, Joe Dante, Mark Hartley, Mick Garris, Ernest Dickerson, Joko Anwar, Ramsey Campbell, David DeCoteau, Kim Newman, Jovanka Vuckovic, Luigi Cozzi, Tom Savini, Jenn Wexler, Larry Fessenden, Richard Stanley, Brian Trenchard-Smith, Brian Yuzna, Gary Sherman, Rebekah McKendry and Peter Strickland.

Director: David Gregory.

AUSTRALIAN PREMIERE: Screening with NIGHT TRAIN TO TERROR 35th Anniversary presentation at Monster Fest from 1:30pm on Sunday, 6th December, Cinema Nova, Carlton, Melbourne.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

Anthology films, those critically under-valued providers of thrills and chills for generations of genre fans, are afforded an appropriately passionate, often giddily infectious reappraisal in Tales of the Uncanny. Severin Films’ boss David Gregory, working with renowned horror academic Kier-La Janisse, have corralled over 60 exponents of cinema’s darkest artistry to recount and respect the greatest short-form film narratives in movie history. Refreshingly, the doco compiles two Best of... lists - for whole films and individual segments -in a gesture that will help new fans seek out the finest of the genre.  

While even the best of anthology films suffer from the inevitable saggy segment (a common trait acknowledged by the filmmakers and their interviewees), no such dip in tone or quality infects Gregory’s buoyant love letter. Tales of the Uncanny tracks the portmanteau format from its origins in Germanic puppet theatre and the collected works of Poe and Lovecraft in publications such as Grahams and Weird Tales magazines through the very earliest days of filmmaking. 

Anthologies played a key role in early European cinema, such as the German masterpieces Eerie Tales (Dir: Richard Oswald, 1919) and Waxwork (Dirs: Leo Birinsky and Paul Leni, 1924) and the great British work Dead of Night (1945), featuring director Alberto Cavalcanti’s classic segment ‘The Ventriliquist’s Dummy’ (with Michael Redgrave; pictured, below). Anthologies soon found favour within Hollywood’s star-driven studio system; director Julien Duvivier’s 1943 pic Flesh and Fantasy boasted the dream cast of Barbara Stanwyck, Edward G Robinson and Charles Boyer.

The obsessively-minded cavalcade of contributors - amongst them, filmmakers (Eli Roth, Joko Anwar, Brian Yuzna, Larry Fessenden, Jenn Wexler, Mattie Do); authors and academics (Kim Newman, Amanda Reyes, Maitland McDonagh); genre giants (Tom Savini, Roger Corman, Luigi Cozzi, Joe Dante, Greg Nicotero, David Del Valle); and, Antipodean talent (Mark Hartley, Brian Trenchard-Smith, Mark Savage) - recount seminal moments in the anthology classics of their formative film years. The coverage is exhaustive, but extra attention is paid to such landmark movies as Mario Bava’s Black Sabbath (1963); Masaki Kobayashi’s Kwaidan (1964); and, Histoires extraordinaires (1968; aka Spirits of the Dead), featuring segments by Louis Malle, Roger Vadim and Frederico Fellini.

Even at a relatively lean 103 minutes, Gregory and Janisse are able to fully profile U.K. outfit Amicus Productions, kings of Britain’s golden age of anthology films (Dr Terror’s House of Horrors, 1965; Torture Garden, 1967; The House That Dripped Blood, 1970; Tales from the Crypt, 1972 (pictured, top; with Joan Collins); From Beyond the Grave, 1974); highlight small-screen anthology horror, from the groundbreaking work of Dan Curtis (Trilogy of Terror, 1975; Dead of Night, 1977) to the resurgent anthology TV-series boom of the ‘80s (Amazing Stories, Tales from the Crypt, Freddy’s Nightmares); and, the classics of the modern era, both adored (Creepshow, 1982; Twilight Zone The Movie, 1984; V/H/S, 2012) and ignored (Cat’s Eye, 1985; From a Whisper to a Scream, 1987; Southbound, 2015).

Tales of the Uncanny has done its job if the viewer comes away with a list of films to re/watch, and it certainly achieves that. It also succeeds in painting the portmanteau genre as a form of film storytelling that needs to be more seriously addressed by both mainstream audiences and film historians. At their very best, anthology films offer the most unique of movie-going experiences and, with credit to David Gregory and Kier-La Janisse, ought now be examined more respectfully.    

BLOOD VESSEL

Stars: Nathan Phillips, Alyssa Sutherland, Alex Cooke, Robert Taylor, Christopher Kirby, John Lloyd Fillingham, Mark Diaco, Vivienne Perry, Troy Larkin and Steve Young.
Writers: Justin Dix and Jordan Prosser.
Director: Justin Dix

Screening at FANGORIA x MONSTER FEST 2019 from October 31-November 4. Check the official website for session details.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

Blood Vessel plays like the movie equivalent of the best cover band you’ve ever seen. Grab-bagging iconic moments from classic genre films and pumping them full of fresh energy, director Justin Dix and his ensemble of committed players offer a ripping high-seas yarn that plays as both a joyous homage to beloved horror tropes and a bloody nightmarish adventure in its own right.

The sophomore feature for effects guru Dix (his 2012 calling-card debut, Crawlspace, earned praise and profit on the genre circuit) is set during the final months of the Second World War. The Axis forces are settling scores by defying wartime convention and have torpedoed a hospital ship; the survivors, a potpourri of international characters representing the combined Allied effort, have been set adrift in a life raft.

Manliest and most level-headed amongst them are the Aussie, Sinclair (Nathan Philips) and Russian, Teplov (Alex Cooke); U.S. military might coms in the form of square-jawed Malone (Robert Taylor), upright African-American hero Jackson (a terrific Christopher Kirby) and whiny New Yorker Bigelow (Mark Diaco); flying the English flag are a nurse, Jane Prescott (Alyssa Sutherland) and cowardly code-breaker, Faraday (John Lloyd Fillingham). There is a twinkle in the eye of every performer, each recognizing that the quality dialogue and opportunity for impactful drama does not often exist in these types of old-school horror romps.

Suffering from starvation and exposure, the group are happier than they should be when a lumbering German minesweeper emerges eerily from the fog. Weighing their fatalistic odds – die slowly at sea or quickly at the hands of a crew bearing the Nazi flag – they decide to board, affording Dix the opportunity to stage an exciting action set piece to kick off proceedings. The already frayed racial tension amongst the group must soon cope with such developments as a ship devoid of crew, bar the occasional gruesome discovery, and a secured section deep below-deck that carries ancient Romanian types best left undisturbed.

Dix and co-writer Jordan Prosser clearly know and love their B-movie inspirations, and they treat that knowledge with respect in crafting the character dynamics and narrative beats of Blood Vessel. The ‘haunted/mysterious ship’ sub-genre is a rich one; Alvin Rakoff’s Death Ship (1980) and Steve Beck’s Ghost Ship (1980), most notably, but also Bruce Kessler’s 1978 TV movie Cruise into Terror and Amando de Ossorio’s 1974 Spanish shlockbuster, The Ghost Galleon, both of which exhibit elements used to great effect in this new Australian entrant.

They provide a framework, but ‘haunted boat’ movies are just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the films to which Dix tips his hat. The German crew’s method of ensuring the horror doesn’t spread (and the lighting and camera angles adopted by DOP Sky Davies to depict the result) visually echoes the discovery of the Norwegian base in John Carpenter’s The Thing; Nurse Prescott’s relationship with a little girl they find on board (played by Ruby Hall, her appearance mirroring that of Lina Leandersson in Let The Right One In) recalls the bond between Ripley and Newt in Aliens; the whole ‘Nazis and the Occult’ angle was the spine of Spielberg’s Raiders of The Lost Ark (remember, “Hitler's a nut on the subject”).

Dix returns that which he has borrowed with interest; while horror buffs will spot the references, attention is never drawn away from the on-screen action. Bathing his supernatural thriller in rich blues, deep blacks and primal reds, Dix crafts a closed-quarters, claustrophobic nail-biter that belies its mid-range budget through the use of skillful set design, expertly rendered miniatures and icky gore effects. Genre festival berths and a long life servicing genre fans hunting for legitimate frights are assured.

TWO HEADS CREEK

Stars: Jordan Waller, Kathryn Wilder, Helen Dallimore, Gary Sweet, Kevin Harrington, Stephen Hunter, Don Bridges, Madelaine Nunn, Kent Lee, David Adlam and Kerry Armstrong.
Writer: Jordan Waller
Director: Jesse O’Brien

AUSTRALIAN PREMIERE: Saturday October 12 at Cinema Nova as part of Fangoria x Monster Fest 2019 | Melbourne.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

Under the guise of a raucous, bloody horror-comedy, writer/star Jordan Waller and director Jesse O’Brien nail some timely social commentary in their wildly entertaining collaboration, Two Heads Creek. A risky rumble with the Ocker archetype, the likes of which have fallen hard in the past (remember Welcome to Woop Woop?), this U.K./Australian co-production instead rips into racial stereotypes as incisively as it does muscle and bone.  

Bolstered by high-profile Oz acting talent not usually associated with this type of splattery romp, Waller and O’Brien expose the pink underbelly of systemic bigotry through broad satire, taking to it with all manner of barbed tools, literally and figuratively. At a time when the thinly disguised politics of hatred has infiltrated the mainstream, films that take the perpetrators down a peg or two are more important than ever.

In a remarkably assured left turn from his plummy work in the TV series Victoria, Waller stars as Norman, the sole remaining proprietor of a family-owned British butcher shop facing its final days. Despite his toffee Brit blonde-ness, Norman cops constant verbal and occasionally faecal abuse from his pro-Brexit working-class community (he’s Polish, it seems). When the opportunity presents itself to head Down Under and reconnect with his birth mother, he follows the spirited guidance of his fiery sister Annabelle (the terrific Kathryn Wilder, sharing convincing sibling chemistry with her co-star) and is soon in transit to the titular township.

Arriving in the rotting remnants of a once thriving rural life along with the ubiquitous Asian tour group, Annabelle and Norman soon become acquainted with the residents - boisterous blonde Apple (Helen Dallimore); her under-the-thumb hubby Noah (Kevin Harrington); displaced German aristocrat Hans (Gary Sweet); cranky old racist Uncle Morris (Don Bridges); and, effeminate publican Eric (David Adlam). The townsfolk represent the ugly elements of old Australia, an Anglo-European enclave of entitlement and inflated self-worth, ignorant of their life collapsing around them.

With only the highbrow sci-fi Arrowhead (2016) on his feature resume, O’Brien proves a naturally gifted director of anarchic yet pointed storytelling and the perfect conduit for Waller’s fish-out-of-water protagonist. By the time the third act kicks in, and thematic subtext of ugly racism meets the gory narrative trajectory of small-town cannibalism, O’Brien and Waller’s pacing and delivery is skilfully syncopated.

A smart, yet deliriously insane take on our dangerously ridiculous modern society, Two Heads Creek plays like a Monty Python-meets-Peter ‘Braindead’ Jackson reworking of Wake in Fright; a journey into the dark heart of ugly Australian culture by way of Sideshow Alley. The redemptive ray of light at the end of the horror tunnel is the notion that prejudice and intolerance can’t win and that, ultimately, ugly racism will eat itself.

NIGHTMARE CINEMA

Stars: Mickey Rourke, Sarah Elizabeth Withers, Faly Rakotohavana, Maurice Benard, Elizabeth Reaser, Zarah Mahler, Mark Grossman, Eric Nelsen, Richard Chamberlain, Adam Godley and Annabeth Gish.
Writers: Mick Garris, Alejandro Brugues, Richard Christian Matheson, Sandra Becerril, David Slade and Lawrence C. Connolly.
Directors: Mick Garris, Alejandro Brugués, Joe Dante, Ryûhei Kitamura and David Slade.

Screening at Monster Fest VII on Friday November 23 at Cinema Nova, Carlton.

Rating: ★★★★

The five-part anthology Nightmare Cinema continues co-producer Mick Garris’ dark obsession with short-form film narrative, the kind that he ushered to cult status as the driving force behind the TV series Masters of Horror. Rife with a degree of references, homages and nods that only a super-fan will fully appreciate, Garris has corralled a rogue’s gallery of international horror director heavyweights, resulting in a stylistically diverse creep show but one that sustains the shared goal of chills, thrills and giggles.

The deceptively simple premise features five would-be protagonists who stumble/are drawn into an empty picture palace, where visions of their own demise unfold before them based upon horror sub-genres. Argentinian filmmaker Alejandro Brugués (Juan of The Dead, 2011; ABCs of Death 2, 2014) starts the party with ‘The Thing in The Woods’, hurling young actress Sarah Elizabeth Withers into her own Friday the 13^th–inspired battle for survival. Costumed to recall franchise favourite Kirsten Baker and facing off against a high-concept villain called ‘The Welder’ (Eric Nelsen), Withers (pictured, below) proves a good sport when the going gets gruesome, her director changing tact at the midway point from slasher tropes to something else entirely.

Brugues’ segment is a loving nod to 80s VHS nasties and could just as satisfyingly been conjured from the mind of longtime Garris cohort, Joe Dante. The beloved director of The Howling (1981), Gremlins (1984) and Innerspace (1987) instead opts for a horror hospital riff called ‘Mirari’, in which a scarred woman (Zarah Mahler) reluctantly appeases the wishes of her handsome fiancé (Mark Grossman) and undergoes reconstructive work by the hands of Richard Chamberlain’s too-charming plastic surgeon. Dante indulges in some of the film’s most icky practical effects work while displaying his skill with the short-story format; Mirari recalls the classic Twilight Zone episode ‘Eye of he Beholder’, reigniting the debate as to whether Dante or Dr George Miller delivered the very best bits of Twilight Zone The Movie (1983).

It is following Dante’s segment that we are introduced to name player Mickey Rourke as The Projectionist, a Mephistophelian figure who oversees the unspooling of each film from his darkened booth and wanders the aisles of the cinema dispensing enigmatic menace. Rourke doesn’t have a lot to work with, unfortunately; he is no Cryptkeeper, guiding the audience on their fearful journey, or voice of subtext wisdom like Rod Serling. He largely lurks, albeit with Rourke’s still potent onscreen presence.

Nightmare Cinema settles into its truly horrifying groove with segments three and four, the most fearlessly ambitious of the compendium. In ‘Mashit’, Japanese director Ryûhei Kitamura (Versus, 2000; Azumi, 2003; The Midnight Meat Train, 2008) unleashes the titular demon (pictured, top) on a morally corrupt Catholic school. The insidious Father Benedict (Maurice Bernard) and the nun-led-astray Sister Patricia (Mariela Garriga) are no match for a dorm of possessed children led by a horned, malformed deity from Hell or a director who can deftly deliver a jump-cut scare.

Hollywood’s most under-valued horror director, David Slade (Hard Candy, 2005; 30 Days of Night, 2007) provides the psychologically troubling vision, ‘This Way to Egress’. Shot in richly textured black-&-white, it stars Elizabeth Reaser (pictured, above; currently seen in the hit Netflix show, The Haunting of Hill House) as a mother of two brattish boys slowly losing her mind in the waiting room of her ‘specialist’, Dr Salvador (Adam Goodley). As time passes, the pristine office surrounds become overwhelmed by a dark filth; the faces of those that she passes in the halls grow increasingly deformed. Slades’ film is a masterful take on mental health, depression, social disconnection; while it foregoes the visceral horror of the film to this point, it is a warped walk in a convincingly disturbing, Cronenberg-esque realm.

Finally, Garris himself steps into the director’s chair for ‘Death’, in which musical prodigy Riley (Faly Rakotohavana) starts to see dead people as he recovers in (another) creepy hospital ICU after a carjacking that claimed his parents. Hunted by the murderer (Orson Chaplin) and haunted by his mother (Annabeth Gish), Riley’s plight in the hands of Rakotohavana proves not only thoroughly creepy but also surprisingly moving; Garris nods to The Sixth Sense perhaps once too often, but does so with heart and conviction.

The all-encompassing title implies a genre of its own, so it is fitting that so much of Nightmare Cinema draws from then reinterprets the horror visions of filmmakers that have gone before, delivered by Garris and his peers with a true understanding of a horror fan’s fixation.

LANDFALL

Stars: Kristen Condon, Rob Stanfield, Daryl Heath, Andy Bramble, Bailey Stevenson, Shawn Brack, Tony Bonner, Anthony Ring and Vernon Wells.
Writer/Director: Travis Bain

WORLD PREMIERE: Monster Fest, Sunday November 26 at 12.30pm at Melbourne’s Lido Cinema.

Rating: 3.5/5

Pitching all the elements at just the right serious/comic tone to pull off a tongue-in-cheek thriller like Landfall is a tough ask; too much either way, neither works satisfactorily. So all credit to multi-hyphenate Travis Bain, who gives it a damn good shake in his slyly funny, convincingly twisty exercise in narrative acrobatics and Tarantino-esque pop culture riffing.

Set against the same F.N.Q./tropical cyclone backdrop as his debut Scratched (2005), the director introduces young couple Maisie (Kristen Condon) and Dylan (Rob Stanfield) in a beachfront home with time running out. Just as they decide to head for higher ground, an ambulance, its lights darkened, pulls into the driveway. Imposing themselves on the young couple are three unsavoury types, decked in paramedic garb – the badly injured Ringo (Bailey Stevenson), a gravelly-voiced George (Andy Bramble) and the weapons-wielding leader, Paul (the imposing Daryl Heath).

The group dynamic is skilfully constructed, with barely a breath taken before all the elements are in place – the details of the crime committed, the McGuffin in the corner of the room, the backstory that binds the diverse group together. Bain does not allow the premise’s occasionally creaky credibility to sneak into his story until well into the second act, when burly cop Wexler (Vernon Wells) becomes entangled in the increasingly convoluted intrigue. The extent to which Bain's script explores all possible avenues for his characters and their motivations becomes a tad exhausting, though ultimately answers all the questions he poses.

But the young director has more on his mind than uncoiling genre machinations. A film-buff’s pedigree begins to reveal itself, notably in a terrifically funny piece of dialogue between Paul and Wexler, in which the criminal riffs on his favourite movies. Heath’s thuggish brute offers up (in this critics opinion) a long overdue takedown of The Shawshank Redemption (1994), which Bain then recalls in the film’s final moments; the biggest laugh comes when Paul drops one particular fave, allowing Wells a priceless few frames of film to respond.

Spinning his violent home invasion thriller off into QT territory is a bold move; some viewers and critics may be less forgiving of the dogleg tonal turn. However, what Bain does achieve with an especially assured touch is a knowingness that lifts it out of its ‘competent B-thriller’ confines and ups its value as genre homage.

On those terms, Landfall unexpectedly plays like a mash-up of two undervalued Nicholas Cage pics – the goofy three-crims-on-the-run comedy Trapped in Paradise (1994), and the actors’ own twisty kidnapping thriller, Trespass (2011), opposite Nicole Kidman. The film is also under the spell of Cape Fear (1991), Reservoir Dogs (1992) and The Ref (1994), to name just a few.

The other benefit brought from accepting Bain’s pitch-black comedy stylings is that several performances sharpen from broad caricature into cutting satire; best amongst them are the terrific Heath, Condon’s counter-intuitive damsel-in-distress and young Stevenson, as the firebrand Ringo. Further confirmation of the pic’s cheekiness are the cameo turns from Shawn Brack and Australian acting legend Tony Bonner as mates, ‘Trev’ and ‘Kev’.

TARNATION

Stars: Daisy Masterman, Emma-Louise Wilson, Danae Swinburne, Blake Waldron, Jasy Holt, Joshua Diaz, Sean McIntyre, Sarah Howett and Mitchell Brotz.
Writer/Director: Daniel Armstrong.

WORLD PREMIERE: Monster Fest, Friday November 24 at 9.30pm at Melbourne's Lido Cinema. 

Rating: 3.5/5

It is easy to imagine Sam Raimi giggling with gleeful pride should he ever stumble across Daniel Armstrong’s Tarnation. Stretching a meagre budget and pushing a game cast are two of Armstrong’s great strengths as a director; another is clearly a love for the works of Michigan’s favourite filmmaking son, whose Evil Dead epics are paid the type of knowing homage only a true fan could conjure.

The unselfconsciously preposterous plot centres on wannabe singer-songwriter Oscar, played by the endearing Daisy Masterman with the same spirited abandon that Bruce Campbell displayed 36 years ago. We meet Oscar as she gets marched from her singing gig by her band’s manager (Sean McIntyre), a creepy golf-enthusiast who recommends she get some R&R at his log cabin just outside of the township of Tarnation. With BFF Rain (Danae Swinburne) and two ill-fated beau-hunks along for the ride, they are barely through the door when the spirits that possesses the property start playing up.

With its veranda awning and Tardis-like interiors, the cabin is a masterfully recreated version of Raimi’s Evil Dead cottage, and Armstrong uses every corner of the set to offer shout-outs to his favourite genre works. Like-minded fans will have a blast spotting references to such cult pics as Friday the 13^th, Night of The Creeps and Basket Case. The prolific young filmmaker is not above trumpeting his own contributions to DIY-horror, with posters for his past films From Parts Unknown (2015), Murder Drome (2013) and Sheborg Massacre (2016) pinned to the wall.

While it is clear that Armstrong has little regard (or budget) for elements such as logic or continuity, the on-screen energy that he skilfully crafts puts him in the same league as contemporaries Kiah Roache-Turner (Wyrmwood: Road of The Dead, 2014) and Christopher Sun (Charlie’s Farm, 2014; Boar, 2017) and Ozploitation greats like Brian Trenchard-Smith (Turkey Shoot, 1982; Dead End Drive-In, 1986). His nighttime sequences achieve more with one source light and a fog machine than most would with twice the resources, while his old-school practical effects (including a possessed and rotting kangaroo whose design recalls the goat-monster from…that’s right, Sam Raimi’s Drag Me To Hell) are top tier.

As with any independent filmmaker worth their weight, Armstrong calls in favours to realise his project. Oscar’s band is played by soundtrack contributors The Mercy Kills, who have utilised Armstrong’s vision in the past for their film clips; Tarnation reunites the director with the star of Sheborg Massacre and From Parts Unknown, actress/stuntwoman Emma-Louise Wilson, who brings some well-timed and tasteless laughs as the wheelchair-bound ‘Wheels’.