Three horrific short movies

The first short film of this horror triptych by British filmmaker Neville Pierce is the psychological terror Lock In (2016, pictured above). It boasts a clever little script concerning a gangster Jimmy (Nicholas Pinnock) visiting a pub just after closing time ostensibly to ask Richard the landlord (Tim McInnerny) for protection money. Richard, meanwhile, is soon to be a granddad: his pregnant daughter Lucy (Sing Street’s Lucy Boynton) is working behind the bar and hits Jimmy over the head with a bottle, knocking him out. Unbeknownst to Lucy, Richard and James have a history as former school teacher and difficult pupil.

Aside from some in car shots and a few exterior pub moments, the whole thing takes place inside the pub. The script packs in a lot in its 10 minutes and is a real gift for a director. Pierce responds with some fantastic casting: McInnerny, a prolific actor who deserves much wider recognition, plays a character who seems to change as revelations alter our perception of him. The catalytic Pinnock lends the whole thing an edge while Boynton is terrific as the daughter confronted with unpleasant home truths (or are they lies?) about her father. Pierce also has a striking feel for pace: the whole thing never lets up and moves along very nicely.

The second short Bricks (2015) adapts Edgar Allan Poe’s short story The Cask Of Amontillado in which one nobleman lures another to his wine cellar to exact a cruel revenge. The Russell/Pierce adaptation shifts the tale to the present day and the two characters to stockbroker William (Blake Ritson), the owner of the wine cellar, and builder Clive (Jason Flemyng), his unsuspecting victim. Which means that the script has the virtue of consisting of just two characters on one set, which makes it reasonably easy to produce as a film. But that virtue could so easily be the film’s downfall: hard to imagine anything potentially more boring than two people in a room.

Fortunately for us viewers, as the two characters from their very different worlds talk, Russell avoids that pitfall and delivers a taut sparring, a game of cat and mouse. Pierce again demonstrates astute casting skills and elicits from both actors performances among the most memorable of their considerable careers. Flemyng claims this film is one of the few times a director has actually given him direction – and you can feel it as you watch. The short has also been championed by no less a director than David Fincher (who directed Flemyng in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, 2008).

For this writer, however, the best of the three films here is the black and white photographed Ghosted (2016). Again, Russell’s script posits a deceptively simple idea. A widow in search of love and romance visits a restaurant on a series of five dates (the fifth is a man who happens to be at the next table when date number four goes wrong) accompanied by the ghost of her late husband whom she alone can see. It’s an excuse to explore male foibles – narcissism, personal baggage, obsession with tech, earnest intellectualism.

The five dates are beautifully cast, among them Jason Flemyng as a man unable to forget the woman who left him, a very different but arguably equally impressive performance to the one he gave in Bricks. Christien Anholt projects just the right amount of wry observation and world weariness as the dead husband, but the actor who really brings the tale to life is leading lady and comedienne Alice Lowe (Prevenge/2016, Sightseers/2012) who is as good here as she’s ever been (which is saying something). Pierce pulls his various elements together brilliantly: comedy is a notoriously difficult genre to do well, and this one is very funny indeed.

So, an intriguing horror story adaptation, a tense gangster genre outing underpinned by relationships and an hilarious romantic comedy with supernatural overtones. Quite an impressive range of material and all three well executed which makes me, for one, want to see more by this writer-director team. I have no idea what Russell and Pierce will do next (the latter has already made another short with a different writer, unseen at the time of writing) but if they can come up between them with a feature length piece as good as these shorts, we want to see them make it. Meanwhile, the three shorts just released are something of dirty treat.

The Three Neville Pierce Shorts are available to view on Vimeo from Monday, February 5th. Find them here.

The films will also screen on YouTube channel Tall Tales, the new online home for indie films. Lock In will play on Tall Tales from February 6th, Ghosted from February 13th and Bricks later in 2018.

Prevenge

The female experience of pregnancy in film is something not known for its jovial depictions. Simply viewing Rosemary’s Baby (Roman Polanski, 1968) one can see that child bearing is a painful endeavour, regardless of whether it’s the Devil’s child or not. Akin to Polanski’s film, Alice Lowe’s directorial and writing debut uses the horror genre as a vice to explore femininity and isolation. Unlike numerous egotistical star driven directorial debuts, Prevenge is a strange concoction of the slasher horror and comedy – making for a truly original recipe of British independent filmmaking.

Notably Lowe’s breakout performance came in Ben Wheatley’s Sightseers (2012) and her comic chops are again discovered in her debut. Yet, behind this comedic veneer, the film revels in its sadistic presentations of gore. Although not overt in its comedic tone, the film and Lowe’s performance are highly deadpan. Comparable to the films of Wheatley, Lowe’s debut is chilling and ruthless in its execution (no pun intended).

Opening in a reptile shop filled with spiders, lizards and centipedes, the diegetic sounds of animals reflect the twisted mind of the protagonist Ruth, alongside her womb’s cries for blood. Requested by her omnipotent womb, she mercilessly kills the pervy shop owner Mr. Zabek.

Continuing her spree at a 1970s disco, Ruth, like a black widow, seduces the misogynist DJ – ultimately leading to his glorious and hilarious emasculating death. As the kill list mounts and Ruth seeks further targets, its becomes clear that her unborn child’s calls for blood are related to an incident involving her partner. Spliced between these murders, Ruth regularly visits her midwife who instructs her that nature has taken over her body and she is powerless to the powers of the baby. Unbeknownst to this figure of governance, the faetus has polluted the mind of its mother.

Alongside the stunningly grotesque murders, the electronic score elevates the visceral and mesmeric quality of the film’s atmosphere. Pablo Clements, James Griffith and Toydrum’s synth based score adds a nuanced layer to the psychopathic tendencies of Ruth and her malevolent womb. Clearly referencing the music of the Goblins and their association with giallo auteur Dario Argento, the dark and melodic sounds, as any well-constructed horror genre piece should, are a vital competent to the film’s success. Audiences who share an interest with electronic music as myself will see similarities between this score and the melancholic sounds of techno Berlin based DJs as Ame, Steffi and DVS1.

Lowe’s straight-faced performance is all the more impressive when considering the actor was seven months pregnant when filming the role. Her ability to create awkwardness in a scene lends itself well to her script-writing. Though some critics could see the film as a series of killings, without any emotion or character, this would ignore the nuanced portrayal of a women isolated from society and clearly suffering from severe grief and depression.

Drawing out the best from her fellow actors also benefits Lowe’s material. Blending comedic and dramatic actors together creates clear divisions in their characters. In the example of the misogynist 1970s DJ, portrayed by Tom Davis, his comic background in television lends itself well to his and Lowe’s on screen interaction.

On the reverse side of the coin, casting Kate Dickie, known for Andrea Arnold’s Red Road (2006) and Robert Eggers’ The Witch (2015) as a lonely company executive emphasises Ruth’s sinister vengeance. In this sequence, cinematographer Ryan Eddleston uses a longshot to frame their conversation, depicting the isolating that pregnant women are given from big commercial business.

Surprisingly filmed over a tight 11-day schedule, Prevenge does not fail on its innovative title and narrative. Its focus on femininity and pregnancy’s isolation are relatively untested waters when it comes British cinema. Like her colleague Ben Wheatley constantly produces, Alice Lowe has orchestrated an original and inventive piece of film behind and in front of the camera. With recent releases as The Falling (Carol Morley, 2014) and The Levelling (Hope Dickson Leach, 2017) written and directed by female British directors, Alice Lowe’s directorial debut is a welcomed edition to this new wave of British independent cinema.

Prevenge was out in cinemas in March, and it has now been made available on DVD and Blu-ray.

Chubby Funny

The street where I live in North London is quite ordinary and nondescript and except for the odd Japanese tourist taking pictures outside the building where Karl Marx lived and died in the 19th century. So it caught me by surprise to see it on Chubby Funny. In fact, the lead character lives just a few yards down from my doorstep. I could see the surrounding buildings, the children’s playground, a nice view from the top of a neighbouring block and – tah dah! – for a short moment I could even see my own flat! I was almost hoping I would see myself walking down the street.

This fact is not irrelevant, particularly because Chubby Funny is a very local and personal movie. Cinema is where the personal and the universal crossover, where reality and imagination meet, where past and future concur. Seeing your own street and dwelling on the silver screen adds an entire new dimension to a film; it literally transports you home. So you must excuse me for starting this review by sharing these thoughts and feelings.

Chubby Funny is a highly autobiographical movie about a vaguely chubby gay (or maybe bisexual?) actor seeking his next role, and trying to reconcile his career ambitions with his personal life. Oscar (played by the film helmer Harry Michell) looks a little bit like a grown-up cherub, with English rose cheeks and curly hair. He has landed a gig playing a squirrel for a commercial, but he’s far from achieving his professional ambitions, and his financial woes often prevail. He’s got a (boy)friend who’s in the same industry, facing similar challenges, and this quickly takes a toll on their relationship (it’s not entirely clear how sexual their relation is). The movie feels so personal that you’d guess the lead and the director were the same person even if you didn’t know it (I certainly did).

There are plenty of jokes about body fascism in the film industry as well as in the gay scene. There’s also commentary on immigrants and our prejudices towards them. This is a film with its heart at the right place. And the performances are satisfactory enough.

This British independent movie is very lighthearted and unpretentious, but also non-audacious. The film starts out with a romcom feel, not dissimilar to Bridget Jones (minus the giant underpants, plus a shriveled up penis), but it then gradually veers into a career drama territory. It attempts to achieve emotional complexity and profundity, but it sometimes slips into the banal and trivial. The ending of the film is also a little abrupt, and it feels like some of the plots could be explored in a little more depth. The inevitable realisation of personal fallibility is a mostly predictable outcome. Overall, not bad for a first-time director, but we do hope Harry will get dirtier in his next films!

The movie also features Alice Lowe, best known for her recent performance and direction of Prevenge (2016).

Chubby Funny premiered at the LOCO London Comedy Film Festival (click here for more information about the event) in May. It’s out in selected cinemas across the UK on June 30th.