Hypnotic Malefactors

A series of random murders in Tokyo trouble a worn down detective in the brilliantly opaque thriller The Cure. Already distracted by his wife's mental illness our protagonist is baffled by the grisly, mysterious crimes but once he encounters the peculiar catalyst of these horrors, a seemingly amnesiac young man with a gift for hypnosis, his grip on reality slips and the subsequent battle of wits changes everything. Impeccably shot with two excellent, understated performances at it's core the initial fugue like atmosphere is slowly suffused with a menace and dread that's deeply unsettling and which culminates in a profoundly disturbing final scene. Possibly one of the best psychological thrillers I've seen.

The hypnotic gifts of another miscreant, Count Cagliostro, propel events in 1949's melodrama Black Magic starring Orson Welles. I've never read Dumas' novel but am familiar with the story of the mystic/charlatan extraordinaire Balsamo and it makes for good entertainment in this sumptuous period piece stuffed as it is with intrigue, indiscretions and mesmerisations. Orson has a field day as the ambitious main character who achieved great fame for his healing powers but over reaches once invited into the presence of Marie Atoinette. Almost a direct opposite to The Cure, this is a light, mildly amusing historical romp with little to say but plenty of charm.

Adapted Selves

It's been a long time since I read H G Wells' The Invisible Man but the 1984 BBC adaptation seems faithful to a fault. Obsessed with optics the antihero almost ruins himself in his pursuit of a technique to induce invisibility but his irascible nature drifts into murderous megalomania after he succeeds in his experiments. Though the characters and setting seem amusingly quaint by today's standards the menace and tremulous rage of Pip Donaghy's performance as Griffin provide the dark heart to this production. Originally shown as 6 25 min episodes I was happy to gulp the whole lot down in one go but be warned if you're unfamiliar with the original novel you'll probably be surprised by the decidedly modest, almost low key adventuring.

Herman Hesse's beautiful, lyrical novel Siddhartha got the big screen treatment back in 1972 and like Invisible Man it's a remarkably faithful version but inevitably fails to muster the same spiritual potency of the original. A young brahmin leaves his luxurious home to wander the forest with some rishis and during his spiritual journey encounters the traditional obstacles to the path of enlightenment. It's well acted and has a musing Indian score but somehow it feels a little rushed and the cinematography is surprisingly humdrum. A good film but with a little more care this could have been something special.

Sloppy Seconds

Sequels are always tricky and seldom successful but given my fondness for the original anime I was quite looking forward to the second Gantz film, Perfect Answer. If you haven't seen the first film there's a mysterious black ball that's resurrecting citizens of Toyko to battle aliens in gory, tech assisted, head popping combat, some die and some survive but no-one's really sure what's actually going on. The sequel rejoins the squad as they endeavour to cash in their accumulated points to bring their chums back to life and although it still looks great and the acting is reasonable enough the insane fight scenes have been toned down and most of the (overlong) film is frittered away on exposition and explanation. Maybe if they'd decided on a trilogy of live action films they could've done the source material justice rather than cram the remaining plot into this uneven, fumbled finale.

More glossy action festoons Wrath of the Titans the follow up to the mediocre Clash. The wooden Worthington returns as Perseus who has to rescue Neeson's Zeus from the clutches of his demented brother Hades and his own snotty son Aries. Like before the shiny sfx and monster bashing action are supposed to distract from the papery plot and the by-the-numbers script but it's so crushingly formulaic and just plain dull I had to try hard to get the end. Given the richness of Greek myths it's quite depressing that instead of continuing Perseus' story post Kraken or even adapting the story of another hero like Bellerophon or Cadmus they thought they'd should cobble something together.

Growth & Decay

Murakami's Norwegian Wood is a delicate reminiscence of the life and loves of a young man, Toro, in late Sixties Tokyo and, despite not being autobiographical, is devoid of the author's trademark peculiarity. While at University after Toro's friend commits suicide a tentative romance blossoms with his girlfriend Naoko but events and their fledgling adulthood causes much confusion. As you'd expect from Murakami it's beautifully written but the two main characters are so fragile and melancholic I struggled to relate to them and without the usual fantastical elements the whole thing seemed a little insubstantial. It seems harsh to criticise such a wonderfully written novel and it is an achingly poignant vista of the pressures of maturation but I think I prefer Murakami's wilder side.

No Blade of Grass is a quirky slice of British post apocalyptic cinema and I was lucky enough to be lent a copy of the original novel The Death of Grass by a friend. Written in 1956 there's a grass chomping virus spreading across the globe and gaggle of suburbanites take the initiative and head for the hills, just not quick enough to avoid the expected social disintegration; roaming rapey gangs, looters and lunatics. It's a nicely drawn examination of middle class sensibility and it's weak points as the journey takes it's psychological as well as physical toll and although the plot seems hackneyed it's worth keeping in mind it's over 50 years old. John Christopher went on to write scifi mainly for adolescents, most memorably The Tripods, but I might dig around and see if I can find something as bleak and kitchen sink as this.

Re-Art

Brilliant gallery of traditional style woodcuts with a video game slant. Reddit.

Equally awesome gallery of film flavoured Ottoman style miniatures. Neatorama.

Hairless Homicides and a Hoary Haunt

Zalman King stars in the cult horror/thriller Blue Sunshine. Turning bald and then foamingly homicidal appears to be the fate of people who took the eponymous acid back in the day and our protagonist rumbles around the city trying to trace the other trippers while evading the police who suspect him of the murders. This is mostly ridiculous nonsense but there's some enjoyment to be had what with the comically overwrought acting, 70's era cheese and acid fuelled rampages. It's certainly not worth searching for but if you stumble across it, don't dismiss it out of hand.


Oliver Reed heads a cast including Burgess Meredith, Karen Black and Bette Davis in a fairly standard 70's haunted house flick called Burnt Offerings. Renting a house for the summer Reed drags his family into a bit of a pickle when the mansion slowly exerts an unnatural influence over his wife and they find it harder and harder to leave. Despite it's 70's cheese, maybe because of the quality of the actors, it builds quite the creepy atmosphere and at it's crescendo the secret behind the mysterious house is finally revealed. An odd little film that's been unfairly neglected.

A Futurological Congress

Nacho Vilagondo's first film, Timecrimes, was an excellent, darkly comic, time-travel thriller and with his sophomore feature, Extraterrestrial, he provides another entertaining, low fi spin on a classic scifi trope, this time with an alien invasion. Waking up after a wild night, a couple who can't remember each other's names, awkwardly shuffle about before it dawns on them that the city has been emptied, all communications are down and there's a ginormous UFO parked in the sky above. As the pair try and survive amidst the confusion, suspicion and idiocy of their fellow survivors a gentle, tentative romance blossoms and things get a little complicated. The sharp, witty script fosters some brilliant, dead pan performances from the small cast and there's plenty of laughs throughout, more of a scifi-flavoured bedroom farce than anything else but still one of the most enjoyable films I've seen in a while.

Luc Besson's latest foray into scifi sees Guy Pearce channel Snake Pliskin in a rescue the presidents daughter from orbital prison romp called Lockout. Pearce does an reasonable job as the one liner spewing action hero who, after being framed for killing his boss, is given the choice of 20 years in stasis or infiltrating a space station stuffed with criminals under the command of some Scottish bampots. There's a tonne of action and some natty sfx that kinda offset the plethora of plot holes and the hackneyed set up but it never manages to distinguish itself as anything other than a fairly average B-movie. With modest expectations it'll still keep you entertained for it's 90 mins.

Somethings Sonic