Film Reviews by NP

This is another found footage film, where a convincing, likeable young couple stay in a remote house, hear noises at night, get up to investigate and find nothing. It is familiar territory and the frights are sparse, but it’s done so well, making such good use of what is a genuinely creepy Dartmoor location, it provides some good chills.

Tam Burke (Lachlan Nieboer) is a fledgling psychic investigator, and his cheerful, silly girlfriend Rose Ellis (Lisa Kerr) becomes increasingly unnerved by his insistence to stay in the remote country house – and understandably so: when Rose, with tears in her eyes, tells Tam that she wants to go home, we are all with her. To such an extent that we resent both Tam and Harvey Waller (Nick Julian) – a friend who shows up and is initially thought to have caused sinister damage in the kitchen (cutlery attaching itself to the ceiling and walls) – for ensuring that they all stay ‘just another night.’

As events threaten to overwhelm them, experts Professor Chessman (Robert Daws) and medium Muriel Roy (Kitty McGeever, in her last role) open up a dialogue with the spirit, or spirits. Once we have reached this plateau of tension, the film doesn’t quite know how to proceed, it seems to me. And so it stumbles slightly, falling back on shaky camera/screaming/blurring of events to cause familiar audience unease. Also familiar is Rose distancing herself from her friends as she seems to develop a ‘bond’ with whatever spirits are in the house.

I was not sure of the relevance of the seemingly imminent nuclear war, which is broadcast in radio snippets throughout, other than to give the owners of the house a reason to leave (to see their families). Ultimately, it is this background threat that envelopes them all, which somehow over-eggs the plot, and side-lines the carefully built-up supernatural element.

In a celebrated opening scene, two grave-robbers scamper over an impressive night-time cemetery scene, into the tomb of the Talbots. They plan to steal valuables from the corpse of Laurence Talbot (Lon Chaney Jr), four years dead – and see the plaque bearing the rhyme: ‘Even a man who’s pure of heart, and says his prayers at night, may become a wolf when the wolfs bane blooms, and the moon is full and bright.’

As the camera reveals, that night boasts a full moon. Not only that, but removing the wolfs bane appears to bring Talbot back to life.

It doesn’t matter that Talbot’s left hand reaches out of the tomb for one of the grave robbers, Freddy (Cyril Delevanti), and yet the hand that grabs him is revealed to be his right. It doesn’t matter that the Welsh village of Llanwelly is peopled with Scots, cockneys and Americans, but no Welsh. It doesn’t even matter that Talbot, in his white nightwear, changes into a black shirt and trousers-sporting Wolfman and then back again. Because, despite the first two Universal Frankenstein films being my favourite movies ever, this is the most ‘fun’ of all the entries. And yet, the finished picture could have been so much different.

As at the end of the previous ‘Ghost of Frankenstein (1942)’, The Monster has Ygor’s (Bela Lugosi) brain in his head, and speaks with his voice. After considering using Chaney to play both Wolfman and Monster (both roles he had played before), it was decided subsequently to use Lugosi. Scriptwriter Curt Siodmak wrote dialogue for the Monster (“Help me to get up ... Once I had the strength of a hundred men … it's gone ... I'm sick …”), but at a premier, studio executives found a talking Monster hilarious (displaying a lack of memory and imagination, it seems) and all dialogue, and scenes including it, was cut. There’s a POV that says the Monster’s dialogue was removed because it sounded too much like the rantings of Hitler. Siodmak says Lugosi’s accent made the words too ‘Hungarian funny’. A little ungenerous of him. Also cut were references to the Monster’s blindness, and the restoration of sight and strength at the film’s climax.

Lugosi, who was over 60, suffered from exhaustion during filming, and reportedly collapsed on set at one point. This is the main reason extensive use was made of stuntmen to double for him.

So, does Frankenstein actually meet the Wolf Man? Yes, she does. Ilona Massey, lovely as Baroness Elsa Frankenstein, is visited by Talbot, who is desperate to find her father’s books, believing they can help rid him of his lycanthropic curse. Talbot is a morose, moody figure, a far cry from the buoyant flirt from his first outing. Lugosi’s much criticised Monster, is a spitting, snarling thing. His uncertain stretch-armed stiffness seems over-the-top with all explanation for his blind groping removed – none of which is Lugosi’s fault. He is the wrong shape for the Monster, and Jack Pierce’s make-up (a make-up designed for more slender features) but is performance does not deserve the criticism it gets; he breathes life into the creature, more so than Chaney did in the previous instalment.

Lon Chaney is excellent as Talbot, in what is essentially his film (with the Monster’s role sadly reduced). He is intense and brought low by his predicament, and Chaney does a good job of some exposition-heavy lines.

The rest of the cast comprise of stalwarts Lionel Atwill, Dwight Frye and Patric Knowles as all-rounder Doctor Mannering. Beginning the picture as the doctor tending to Talbot, he then becomes an investigator who follows him to Vaseria and finally, for no particular reason, the mad scientist who cannot resist bringing the Monster to full strength before the tremendous and hugely entertaining final battle.

Beth Riesgraf is excellent as agoraphobic Anna, who has spent years looking after her dying brother Conrad. On the day of his funeral, three men forcibly enter her home, believing her to be away. They intend to rob Anna of the money she has stashed away in the house, a detail revealed to them by Dan (Rory Culkin – MaCauley’s brother), who delivered food to Anna.

Toying with her and her illness, Perry (Martin Starr) throws her outside the house, where she panics and almost has a seizure. Little gestures like Anna self-consciously pulling her skirt over her knees after she has involuntarily wet herself really endear her plight to us. The thugs are hateful, as is the duplicitous Dan, but it isn’t until Perry casually bludgeons Anna’s pet canary to death that we are really clamouring for his suffering.

We are given plenty of reasons to spur Anna on to kill these low-lives. Apart from Perry and the slimy Dan, the ‘leader’ is convincing hard-man JP (Jack Kesy) and right hand Vance (Joshua Mikel). Bad enough they strive to rob someone who is at the funeral (they think) of the long-suffering brother they have cared for, but the powerful acting gives them an extra edge of nastiness. Their inevitable demises are, if anything, not horrible enough.

The house, in which the whole thing is set, provides an effective maze-like prison for them all as they begin to realise that Anna’s intimate knowledge of the place has its advantages, and the building, it seems, has secrets of its own.

This is another ‘home invasion’ project, where the comforts of a familiar environment are turned on their head upon the arrival of uninvited ‘others’. Although the format itself may be limiting, it clearly works if used well and interspersed with interesting, well-defined and finely acted characters and sinister dilemmas. Happily, this is one such film.

Bela Lugosi, second billed, plays Doctor Vollin, a genius surgeon, accomplished musician and devotee of Edgar Allan Poe. He seems to be held in high esteem, is charming and talented. However, when he’s wearing his surgeon’s mask, the camera focusses on those sinister eyes, and we really don’t know quite what is going on inside the old scoundrel’s head.

He seems besotted with Jean Thatcher (Irene Ware), whose life he has just saved in a delicate operation. And yet she is promised to ultra-suave, moustachioed Jerry (Lester Matthews – fresh from playing a similarly disapproving, debonair gent in ‘Werewolf of London’ earlier that year). We then meet Bateman (Boris Karloff), bearded and shadier than a factory full of umbrellas. Every movement, stance and rolling of the eyes tells us Bateman is a villain through and through, and here he is on Vollin’s doorstep, asking the surgeon to ‘change his face’. Bateman has had a lifetime of rebuttal; “Maybe if a man is ugly, he does ugly things.” Karloff, billed first, is not well cast here. His lisping English lilt doesn’t convince when given lines like “I don’t want to do bad things no more.” There was always a studio-managed rivalry between him and Lugosi, but here, Lugosi’s theatricals are far more impressive.

Vollin does as he is asked and changes Bateman’s face, but the result is a grotesque deformity. Bateman is promised another new face if he accedes to Vollin’s villainous wishes – which begin with Bateman assuming the role of unsightly butler for a dinner party Vollin is hosting. Being such a fan of Poe, it’s not entirely surprising Vollin has a torture room filled with devices taken from Poe’s tales, chiefly ‘The Pit and the Pendulum’. Vollin doesn’t just torture people, he takes time to describe exactly the agonies his victims are facing, with Bateman as his henchman.

If this were released today, it would surely fall under the category of ‘torture porn’. Seen that way, ‘The Raven’ was ahead of its time; possibly this proved to be its downfall. Following disappointing returns and heavy criticism, it hastened the premature ending of horror film production (the feint hearts of the UK critics fuelled this too), at least until 1939, when ‘Son of Frankenstein’ proved there was still an audience for the macabre.

To say that Lugosi fails to resist the temptation to go wonderfully over the top towards the film’s close is an understatement, whereas Karloff’s villain becomes a Monster-esque misunderstood, maligned good guy - and too quickly after the villains have received their just desserts, ‘The Raven’ comes to an end with a briskly light-hearted ending.

Outrageous, but glorying in its outrageousness, this is not Universal’s best horror, but possibly it is their best vehicle for Lugosi, who owns every scene he is in. Were it not for the gleeful ham on display, the subject matter could have been deeply unsettling. The censors and critics who were appalled by Vollin’s vow to be "the sanest man who ever lived" took it all far too seriously, with dire consequences for Lugosi and horror films in general.

Corey (Robin Dunne) and his new wife Sarah (Katharine Isabelle) move into a fairly isolated house, with Corey’s son Liam. Sadly, little Liam (Peter DaCunha) resents Sarah because he misses his mother, which is understandable. However, as is so very often the case, scenes with a minor acting in a brattish and petulant fashion immediately causes audience rankles to rise. Corey’s endeavours to ‘understand’ the child make me wish he’d just wallop the little sod and cause me to become irritated by his ineffectuality (“Promise me you’ll give her a chance, boss,” he implores more than once). From the very beginnings of ‘Torment’ I find this a big hurdle to overcome.

One night, after hearing some noises around the house, they find Liam is missing. Instead of celebrating, they call the police. Thus begins another in the sub-genre known as ‘home invasion’, where the calm and comfort of home is forcibly interrupted by some nightmarish killer or other. As a sub-genre, its immediate limitations mean any film to fall under this category is virtually guaranteed to be surprise-free.

This doesn’t mean such projects cannot succeed as horror films if they are well done. And thankfully when the often silent invaders strike, dressed in tatty animal head-pieces things liven up. For even though their features are masked, they are more interesting than the remaining two bastions of ‘family’.

As the opening quote indicates (“When one has not had a good father, one must create one” – Nietzsche), it is the concept of ‘family’ that tries to propel this story. Just as Sarah is given the thrilling prospect of adding further children to Corey’s litter, the barely-glimpsed mutants are looking for their own ‘new’ mothers and fathers to add to their clan. That such a perfunctory thriller results from this, should we then be heart-warmed when, (spoiler) after Corey has been killed and Sarah has been repeatedly beaten, munchkin Liam finally ‘forgives’ his new mother and decides she isn’t so bad after all? Personally, I would have been more satisfied if the little twerp had somehow been behind the horrific events.

Buoyed by his film ‘Vampyros Lesbos’, Director Jess Franco quickly employed a very similar cast and crew for this typically leery-titled horror/drama.

The mighty Soledad Miranda plays the wife of Doctor Johnson, whose experiments with embryos has caused him to be vilified by his peers and banned from continuing his work. Taking care to wear a series of tight shirts unbuttoned to reveal some handsome jewellery, he then goes through spiralling turmoil ending in suicide. His wife determines to get revenge on those who drove him to this.

As with just about all Franco films, scenes of tension are accompanied by exotic and jaunty jazz music that sometimes works because it is so inappropriate and sometimes doesn’t. The former Mrs Johnson’s subsequent seductions-prior-to-murder are scored with grimly fitting incidentals, and together with Franco’s obsession with close-ups and zoom-outs, concoct a heady, disorientating nightmare. Surprisingly, Franco regular Howard Vernon is the first person to cop it.

Apart from making her name in ‘exploitation’ films, there’s no denying Miranda’s power as an actress. She is tremendous throughout despite (on the DVD I am watching), she is buried beneath unbefitting dubbing and subtitles, and has a genuine sense of presence that makes the routine seduction/death plotline far more interesting than it would have otherwise been. Her early death on the eve of what looked like global stardom remains a great tragedy.

‘I’m your Princi-pal!’ screams the poster on the school wall. Next to it, Santa flashes a winning cardboard smile. Such cheeriness is in otherwise woefully short supply in the ‘small American town’ where Dr. Jenniffer Stillman has started her job as school therapist. Stillman is played by Nastassja Kinski, who is utterly wonderful – and very patient, for most of her new co-workers appear, on first meetings, to be ignorant bullies.

The local town doctor’s son Benjamin James McCann (Bobby Edner) is the victim of frequent mistreatment from both pupils and teachers. He’s transfixed by sci-fi and horror and appears top exhibit increasing telepathic powers. An adopted child, the impression given is that Ben is waiting for his real ‘alien’ father to come and take him away.

When the more boisterous idiots that make up the town end up being killed by a dripping, tentacle creature, it seems likely that what Ben is saying just may be true. In true ‘Salems Lot’ style, we are treated to the indiscretions of otherwise ‘respectable’ townsfolk that are paled into insignificance when compared to the new threat. Inevitably, those same respectable townsfolk rise up, furious, and take their guns, comb the land, shouting, ‘find this thing … and kill it!’

It is hard not to side with the alien in the woods, dripping and tentacled though he is. Possibly the film-makers thought so too because the ending is a satisfying one. ‘The Day the World Ended’ is an ambitious title for what is a TV movie whose style could slot easily into the schedules at any time since the mid-1980’s. Whilst Kinski is rather better than the material given her, this is enjoyable, if mainly mild stuff, with the very occasional expletive or moment of gore thrown in.

The title of this says it all, and the fact it is directed by prolific Spanish Director Jess Franco lets the audience know exactly what it is in for. Soledad Miranda’s mesmerising Countess Nadine Carody is a powerfully erotic force of nature, and she has set her sights on American Linda (Ewa Strömberg). Catching Linda’s attention during an erotic dance display at a local club, she then haunts her through dreams. It is a convincing dream-like entrapment, made more so by the beautiful and well-directed Turkish locations. Of all the Jess Franco films I’ve seen, this is his most effectively directed – there is less reliance on endless zooms in and out of the action than usual, and the legendary psychedelic music score, especially with its occasional weirdly distorted vocals, adds to the delirious atmosphere.

Swirling red lined stairways, sun drenched castles and ornate buildings are all filmed beautifully, and yet as always with Franco, the storyline meanders into the inconsequential. Only when Dennis Price’s Doctor Seward has a stand-off with Carody is a real kind of tension invoked (Price, who was nearing the end of his life by this time, looks healthier than he does in other films he made during this period).

Whilst this never descends into an endless parade of soft-core ‘action’ like ‘Female Vampire (1973)’ and there is actually an element of supernatural horror here, things tend to drag, especially in the middle portion of the film. And yet ultimately, this is my favourite Franco film (so far). The wraith-like presence of the sensuous Miranda combined with the more tangible acting chops of people like Dennis Price lends a definite nobility to the trance-like, vaguely erotic horror.

There’s something faintly disorientating about seeing the ‘end’ of a horror film at the beginning: already traumatised teens are dying/have died in a series of gorily extravagant ways by what appears to be a killer in a mask before he too is despatched in a moment that might have been more effective if we’d had substantial running time leading up to that point. Although incongruous, such scenes are necessary for this exploration of what happens after the horror is over for the last girl standing – in this case, Camryn (Akasha Villalobos).

The notion of someone trying to rebuild their life after a horrific sequence is usually featured in the first sequel to any slasher film, but here the adjustment provides the thrust of the story. Having awkwardness and insecurities heaped upon her could make for tedious, patience-stretching viewing, but Camryn’s subsequent trials prove to be full of sufficient incident to remain interesting. Writing, acting and direction are all very much to be praised for this.

The group’s murder, which made the newspaper headlines (according to the clippings Camryn keeps) would, you’d think, have led to the sole survivor being under some sort of ongoing after-care. Therapy or medical monitoring don’t seem to be part of Camryn’s life. When she meets friendly co-worker Nick (Brian Villalobos), she is very much isolated and on her own. But when Nick’s friends become her friends, she is saved from self-pity by the revelation that one of the group, Danielle (Danielle Evon Ploeger) has also suffered her own personal traumas – and it is she who convinces Camryn to revisit the site of her friends’ killings, as a form of closure.

There’s a tragic inevitability about the final twist. In horror, there is no closure, and while the climactic events are not a massive surprise, they are all the more effective because of the truly persuasive warmth and closeness of the characters. ‘The Last Girl Standing’ becomes more of a slasher film in its own right rather than an exploration of what happens after one, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Part financed by the ‘Kickstarter’ scheme, this is a very impressive debut for Director/Writer Benjamin R Moody.

Watching a clean shaven, unblemished young man behaving like a new-born baby can be a disconcerting thing; watching the early scenes of this, I was very much put in mind of Nicholas Roeg’s ‘The Man Who Fell to Earth (1973)’. Whereas David Bowie’s John Newton was an alien, Xavier Samuel’s ‘Adam’ is very much a construct from Earth technology, namely that of Viktor Frankenstein. ‘This is not what I intended,’ he admits when his attractive creation quickly begins to sprout lesions and decomposing skin, and is driven to end his progeny’s short life.

Adam’s strength, however, prevents him from an early death and soon he is roaming the outside world, uncertain and physically powerful, meeting resentment and misunderstandings along the way. The police officer who interrogates him speaks as ignorant people speak to foreigners; the thought being ‘if I shout loud enough he will understand’.

The problem with adaptions of Mary Shelly’s story is that it has been done so many times, it must be a huge challenge to still make the tale relevant and involving without criticisms of re-treading the same ground’. The other option is to add new layers and tweak the narrative so that it is laid open to criticisms that it strays so far from the original and that it is ‘Frankenstein’ in name only. By moving events into the present, and creating a version of the monster so entrenched in modern times, this version manages to be both faithful to the original, as well as adding a new dimension to it.

A tremendous central performance from Samuel ensures the audience is on ‘Monster’s side at all times, even when he kills his only true friend, blind Eddie (Tony Todd), with whom there are scenes that even inject an affectionate humour into the proceedings.

Directed by Bernard Rose, who, amongst other things is responsible for 1988’s dream/horror ‘Paperhouse’, this is a thoroughly enjoyable, intelligent and refreshing adaptation of the well-known story, its release coinciding with that of ‘Victor Frankenstein’, starring bankable names Daniel Radcliffe and McAvoy.

Directed by the acclaimed Hideo Nakata, this Japanese horror was part of a number of films featuring ghostly black-haired children that courted a wave of popularity (and American remakes) alongside The Ring, the Eye and The Grudge.

Recently divorced Yoshimi Matsubara (Hitomi Kuroki) and her young daughter Ikuko (Rio Kanno) move into a rundown apartment block where there is an alarming – and growing – patch of damp dripping from the ceiling. Ikuko attends the local school and adapts quickly, but sees ghostly images of a dark haired youngster. This little spirit is often accompanied by puddles of water that seem to be reaching out towards Ikuko, like fingers. Could this be the local child that has recently gone missing, leaving only her red school satchel behind – a satchel that crops up in the most unlikely places?

SPOILER: it emerges that the missing Mitsuko Kawai (Mirei Oguchi) drowned in a large water tank on the apartments’ roofing whilst trying to retrieve her satchel. Now a ghost, she now sees Yoshimi as a kind of mother figure, and haunts her and her daughter, leading Yoshimi to make the ultimate sacrifice and appears to travel over to the ‘the other side’ to appease the spirit and save her daughter. This scene is illustrated as Yoshimi elects to stay in the elevator frequented by Mitsuko’s spirit. When at last the sliding doors open before her, a vast outpouring of water envelops Ikuko. Of her mother, there is no sign – until ten years later when she revisits the apartments, dilapidated outside, but tidied and fresh inside. She sees her dead mother who assures her that as long as she is well, she is happy. Mitsuko is also there, but when Ikuko turns, she is gone.

This is a good, creepy film that also carries a real emotional sting. Although Mitsuko has a history of instability, there is little doubt that the watery hauntings are real, and these are achieved very convincingly – none more so than when Mitsuko enters her flat once again after the damp patch on the roof has grown once more, to find filthy water pouring from the ceiling in every room. The effect is very much as if it is raining on the inside and is highly unsettling.

The melancholy of the lonely little girl, now without a mother, is also palpable but at least we get (and she gets) some assurance that Mitsuko will always be watching over her.

On beginning her new job, shy Marie (Sonia Suhl) is greeted with ominous words, ‘Since you’re new, you’ll have to get rid of the fish waste.’ Marie is shy, occasionally sullen, and seems to be suffering from an un-diagnosable disease which leaves marks over her body. Getting rid of the fish waste is only the start of her challenges, in this film set in a Denmark fishing village …

At first, the abuse she receives at work seems like vicious, testosterone-fuelled cruelty disguised as high jinks, and it isn’t until later we discover there is reason for the resentment the locals have against her family. Marie’s mother (Sonja Richter) is catatonic, and late one night, Marie spies her father Thor (Lars Mikkelsen) shaving her shoulders and back. This is doubly cause for concern for Marie, as blemishes she is beginning to exhibit also feature the sprouting of down-like hair.

Thor’s history is revealed slowly. His wife is heavily medicated because her disease has a history of turning her into a killer. When it appears Marie is similarly afflicted, the local doctor, under Thor’s instruction, takes steps to anaesthetise her, when her mother springs into life and kills him. Shortly after, he is secretly buried in the garden, and she drowns herself in the bath.

Online reviews compare this to ‘Let the Right One In (2008)’, in that it can be seen as a kind of coming-of-age drama as well as a horror film. There are similarities.

When her work-mates continue to torment her, their wariness of her family giving them an excuse to act in their vindictive manner, it is hugely satisfying when Marie’s lycanthropic rage leads her to kill main protagonist Esben (Gustav Giese) – in fact, it’s a pity his suffering isn’t greater! Eventually, Marie is taken aboard a trawler where the locals intend to kill her, most likely dump her in the waters. Her subsequent slaughter of the entire crew puts me in mind of Dracula’s exploits aboard the Demeter – it is last seen as a ghost shop, drifting aimlessly. On board, only Marie remains, sleeping and child-like again, alongside Daniel (Jakob Oftebro), the only person to show her consistent kindness.

The sedate pacing may not appeal to everyone, but this unspectacular direction allows the story to tell itself, and for the characters to breathe, and is the way a truly atmospheric horror story should be told. Highly recommended.

It is difficult to convey what a massive film this was on its release. It transformed second-billed Anthony Hopkins from a highly respected and well-known actor into an international superstar, caused a degree of controversy and cemented Jodie Foster’s reputation as a major talent. Both won awards for this, and the film won several others.

It isn’t difficult to see why. Starling’s (Foster) initial meeting with Lector (Hopkins) has a tremendous build up – tales of Lector’s legendary brutality, warnings and a corridor full of inmates leering (and worse) at Starling as she makes her way to his cell. The following scene alternately fills the screen with first Hopkins’ face and then Foster’, and – considering they are really explaining the plot to the audience - is electrifying.

Starling’s isolation in her male-dominated job is nicely conveyed visually (without over-labouring the point) often simply by featuring her in scenes with men a lot taller than her. Her wilful lack of vulnerability ensures we are instantly on her side. When we meet Lector, such is his beguiling magnificence, we find ourselves on his side too. A dilemma for the audience, but a fascinating one.

Among this terrific cast, it would be an error to overlook the contribution of Ted Levine as Buffalo Bill. His perversion is told to us at first, and revealed slowly thereafter, culminating in a scene in which he hides his penis between his legs and displays himself as a vision of what he believes to be divine beauty. Much of the original novel’s detail regarding Bill has not been included in the film (how much more shocking – perhaps too shocking – it would have been to see him wearing one of his skinned female victim’s breasts, as in Thomas Harris’s story). And yet he still emerges as a deranged and frightening figure.

The double twist towards the end of SPOILER (a) Lector’s ingenious escape, and (b) the realisation that Starling’s back-up team have gone to the wrong house leaving her to face Bill alone, are perfectly handled. And yet for such a controversial film, there is little gore actually in it – it is the implied violence and Lector’s relish in it that shreds the nerves. ‘Silence of the Lambs’ is thoroughly deserving of its acclaim.

This is a relentlessly grim and humourless film – understandably, given the subject matter. Another modern day take on Frankenstein (loosely speaking, most horror stories are), this deals with engineered babies and cloning, and the reaction of modern day media and ‘normal’ people.

Elisabeth is the ‘first’ of these experiments, and public reaction is exacerbated when one of Doctor Victor’s (Jeremy Childs) staff leaks a picture of her to the press: a normal looking child, she nevertheless has an electronic implement injected into her forehead. What follows are various viewpoints presented both for and against Victor’s experimentation – for some, it presents hope that certain diseases will be combatted as a result; for others, it represents a violation of their perception of the will of God (‘Humans not clones/There’s evil among us’ they chanted like a mantra).

But Elizabeth is not the first experiment. The rampant and deformed Ethan has that dubious honour. Locked in his room, barely shown to the audience, he has behavioural disorders and continues to grow less manageable. One day, Ethan brutally kills the nanny Mary (Shelean Newman).

Exhausted, Ethan approaches Victor, having killed Elisabeth in another rage, who embraces him fatherly before giving him a fatal injection. The crowd of protestors outside his home falls silent as Victor shows them Elisabeth’s corpse, asking ‘Is this who you were afraid of?’ Incensed, one protestor shoots the doctor, killing him.

The subject matter of cloning isn’t quite interesting enough to justify its screen time. The characters’ reactions to the various developments, Victor’s moral dilemma and his belief he is doing positive, progressive work against a whirlwind of protestation and alienation is very well conveyed. But it isn’t until Ethan’s escape and subsequent blurred violence that things become truly creepy. In the end, when the experiments have presumably come to a shuddering end, will the protestors be happy, or will they simply move on to the next Big Issue and be equally compelled to bring that to an end too?

What is it that separates a good film from a bad one? Certainly not budget (or lack of), not even acting talent. Not necessarily a cohesive story. Generally speaking, it is down to individual taste. With horror, gore and special effects can be added to the list of things that don’t really matter – it is, I suppose, a translation of convincing mood, of atmosphere, of fear. I say all this because ‘The Witch’ has received widespread acclaim, yet is almost the polar opposite of successful horror films of modern times.

This concentrates on the ascension (or descension?) of young Thomasin (Anya Taylor-Joy) into a witch. Beginning with the exile of a family of six (Shortly – if briefly to become seven) to a farm beside a secluded forest. The head of the family William (Ralph Ineson) does his best to provide for them, but lacks skill as a hunter and is surrounded by mysteriously failing crops. Whilst in the care of Thomasin, the new baby vanishes – her older brother Caleb (Harvey Scrimshaw) also disappears only to return in a state of possession, and the two remaining youngest, Jonas and Mercy, display increasingly frightening behaviour. It seems an unexplained and tragic series of coincidences mars Thomasin, but as things transpire, events seem pre-ordained by the legendry Black Philip.

As a glut of unexplained circumstances occur that disposes of her family, Thomasin wanders in a trance, into the forest where she comes across a haven of naked witches who, after completing a ritual of dance movement around a blazing fire, physically rise and ascend into the trees. Laughing, Thomasin joins them.

The acting in this is extraordinary throughout, even from the youngest members of William’s family. Occasionally, the olde-world dialogue spoken with thick, regional accents, is hard to make out. And we only see a witch once in close-up. A seductive, long-haired woman emerges from a cottage deep in the forest and appears to seduce young Caleb (there is also an incident where her coven break into the barn when Thomasin has been imprisoned by her father, and drink the blood of the animals, but this is shrouded in darkness).

It has been suggested by a handful of reviewers that this could be a kind of loose prequel to ‘The Blair Witch Project (1999)’, which, if you forget the change in location, is an interesting possibility – if you want it to be. Any connection is, I think, entirely unintentional.

This is a leisurely-paced, stunningly shot psychological horror in which a family’s worst fears actually become a distinct possibility. It won’t please everyone, although it did well commercially and received well deserved critical acclaim.