Thursday, February 19, 2015

people you fancy but shouldn't (part whatever).

In tribute to Eastenders 30th birthday we nominate the one true Lucy Beale, Melissa Suffield.

minaj au toy.

Been a wee bit bored here lately so here are some toys pretending to be Nicki Minaj.



got wood.

Bizarrely enough I found this in a shoebox whilst tidying up which seems kinda apt.

Exists (2014).
Dir: Eduardo Sánchez.
Cast: Chris Osborn, Dora Madison Burge, Roger Edwards, Denise Williamson as Elizabeth, Samuel Davis, Brian Steele and Jeff Schwan as Uncle Bob.

Big faced brothers Brian and Matt (Osborn and Davis from lots of stuff not worth mentioning), Matt's - non explorer - girlfriend Dora (the button nosed Burge from Dexter) alongside their friends Todd (Circus of The Dead's Edwards) and his skimpy shorted beau Elizabeth (Killer School Girls from Outer Space babe Williamson) are on their way to the 'uncle Bob's cabin' (which surprisingly isn't a euphemism) for a weekend of fun, frolicking and BMX banditry.

All to be documented on a variety of hand-held cameras and groovy head-mounted Go-Pros.

Which is lucky seeing as this is a found footage movie, I mean imagine a 90 minute retelling of this scary tale using the medium of chalk pastels.

Doesn't bear thinking about does it?

Stopping only to buy some fireworks, their journey is remarkably uneventful (save an amusing beard burning incident) until they accidentally run over someone or something and decide to stop and investigate.

Discovering that whatever they hit has smashed a light and covered the bumper in red paint the brothers decide to search for whatever could of caused the damage in order to exchange insurance details and whatnot.

This plan is soon abandoned however when a strange noise (rather like the one your mum makes at the point of climax) is heard emanating from the woods and the dippy duo quickly decide to get back in the car and drive  on.

Insert amusing caption here.

From this point on things seem to go from bad to worse. Not only is there a big tree blocking the road meaning that they have to continue on foot but upon reaching the cabin they're slightly disappointed to find that it's not only covered in dust and animal shit but that a wild pig has taken up residence in the bathroom.

To be honest tho' there are folk in Glasgow that'd sell their kids for a house that nice.

Heading back to the relative comfort of the car for the night, Matt is kept awake by the same vaguely sexy noises he heard earlier and, obviously not wanting to be the only grumpy fucker the next morning shakes Brian awake to discuss it.

Tugging at his beard enigmatically Brian is convinced that the noise is being made by Bigfoot who, according to Uncle Bob lives just over the next hill.

Matt, being the clean shaven sensible one accuses his brother of talking 'the bollocks' and quickly goes back to sleep.

Arse attacked by Bigfoot?...that'll be 250 quid from Harry Hill then!

Rising bright and early the next morning the group decides to ignore the tufts of bloodied hair embedded in the car radiator and head down to a lake for some aforementioned fun leaving Brian to waste precious screen time attempting to video Todd and Elizabeth having sex.

Luckily for them (but not for fans of outdoor interracial action obviously) Brian's perving is interrupted when a big hairy man runs passed, causing him to drop his camera and scream and Todd to accidentally ejaculate in Elizabeth's eye.

Much shouting and accusations of sneaky masturbation ensues culminating in Brian heading off into the woods alone to set up some cameras whilst the others go back to the cabin to get pissed and play ping-pong.

That night Brian, who in a fit of pique has decided to sleep in a hastily constructed hammock is suddenly awoken by even more of the mysterious sex noises and decides to investigate only to come across (not in that way) Matt and Todd, who've been lying in wait with a pair of paintball guns ready to cover our bearded bro' in sticky balls of goo.

Have they never seen the episode of Byker Grove where PJ (or is it Duncan?) is blinded during such a jape?

There's no time to discuss the safety aspects of paint balling tho' as our intrepid trio are soon running back to the cabin as the air is filled with scary noises, this time closer than ever.

Once safely inside Brian decides to tell every that he thinks it's Bigfoot.

Cue much laughter and piss-taking until a large shadowy figure, accompanied by the smell of old shoes is spotted outside attempting to pull the walls down.

"You were meant to shite in mah MOOTH!"

After surveying the damage the next morning, our merry band decide it'd probably be for the best if they leave but, unfortunately upon reaching the car, they find that the night-time visitor has other ideas, particularly one pretty unique idea of planting a tree in the middle of the car.

Which is nice if a wee bit unexpected.

Returning to the cabin Dora, being the sensible shoed one, suggests that they should just wait until Uncle Bob turns up and leave with him, which would be a great idea if the brothers hadn't actually stolen the key and borrowed the cabin without asking.

The reason?

Because Uncle Bob doesn't let anyone borrow it in case they upset the local Bigfoot.

This, understandably angers the others.

Tho' not half as angry as it makes a certain Mr Foot.

Matt, being the heroic...well sporty type reckons that if he peddles his BMX really quickly he can probably zoom passed Bigfoot and find a spot where he can get reception on his phone and call for help.

With much oohing and ahhing the others, having neither a plan as goofy or ridiculous are forced to agree, quickly waving a camera-hatted Matt off into the trees before settling down to an afternoon of looking glum.

Whizzing thru' the trees and looking to all intents and purposes like a really cheap fan remake of the speeder bike scene from Return of The Jedi, Matt does in fact manage to find a spot where his phone works only to have his call interrupted by Mr Foot who, after giving chase swats him from his bike causing some nasty chafing, a serious fracture and a large brown stain down the back of Matt's shorts.

How's he gonna explain that to his gran?

Back at the cabin, the pumped up pals have busied themselves by moving all the furniture to block the windows and doors, inadvertently discovering a basement - and a gun - as they do.

Their congratulatory backslapping is short lived tho' as no sooner have they figured out where to put the shells when Bigfoot arrives outside huffing and puffing like John Leslie on an oilrig, destroying the cabins generator before bursting in thru' a cupboard and banging poor Elizabeth's head off a shelf.

The swine.

Eye son!

Todd - overcome by the similarities between their situation and Night of The Living Dead - decides to go all Duane Jones on Bigfoots ass and shoots it thru' a gap in the door before leading a retreat into the cellar in the vain hope that the hairy horror attacking them is scared of stairs.

Cowering under a table the friends try their best to stay quiet, unfortunately Brian's nerves get the better of him and he lets rip a massive - possibly eggy - fart that alerts the beast to their presence and only Todd's action stance and shooting skills save them from a fatal shelfing.
As morning breaks the by now terrified trio, realising that the movie is way passed the halfway point and reckoning that after a night of smashing stuff that Bigfoot will be sleeping, decide to leave the by now destroyed cabin and walk home.

With Brian volunteering to lead them to safety it's not long before they get lost and end up sheltering under a bridge for the night. As darkness falls the ominous noise of the beast can be heard from the forest which (understandably) annoys  the recently single Todd a wee bit, causing him to go all 'street', firing the shotgun into the air and whilst threatening to 'pop a cap' in Bigfoots ass.

Bigfoot replies by hurling large polystyrene rocks at the friends until they run away.

Which in the whole scheme of things ends up being a great idea, otherwise they'd have never heard Matt screaming for help from underneath an old tree that doubles as the beasts lair.

Now it's time for Brian to play the hero as he bravely crawls thru' the bracken, bigfoot pooh and dead leaves to rescue his wounded brother, surprisingly not making an arse of it and managing to shoot the beast on the way back, giving the group ample time to rest up in an abandoned caravan they spotted earlier.

"Spice Girls number one for Christmas....MONSTA!"

Setting Matt down on the bed and searching the cupboards for biscuits Brian is surprised to receive a call from his uncle who, shocked at turning up at his holiday home to find a dead ginger in the basement is intrigued to find out what's been going on.

Oh and where his pigs gone obviously.

Remembering that they purchased a huge bag of fireworks (at a massive expense to the budget) Todd reckons that they should let them off so as to alert Uncle Bob to their position so heads out to do that very thing.

Would you believe it tho' that the fireworks also have the effect of alerting Bigfoot to their location?

Well they do so there meaning that Todd has to leg it up a muddy path with the beast in hot (tho' with all that hair he must be boiling) pursuit.

Before too long (well there is only 15 minutes left) Todd - in true Doctor Who companion style -  trips over an imaginary twig and is caught by the beast, thrown at a tree and finally held up against the caravan window like a sock puppet.

And who says Bigfoot doesn't have a sense of humour?

With Bigfoot determined to push the caravan down a conveniently placed hill it's a race against time for Brian, Matt and Dora.

Will Uncle Bob turn up in time to save them?

Will Bigfoot get bored and wander off?

Is Uncle Bob really Bigfoot or is Bigfoot really Uncle Bob in disguise?

And most importantly is Brian Steele that portrays the beast the same Brian Steele that played Harry in all 22 episodes of TV version of Harry And The Hendersons?

The answer to at least one of these is yes.

Michael Foot....related?

As formulaic and cliched as Exists is, it's a quantum leap in quality from the last Bigfoot movie I had to sit thru', the arse numbing Willow Creek, a film so misguided that its director (ex Police Academy actor Bobcat Goldthwait) managed to convince himself that the one thing that's been missing from modern horror movies is a 30 minute night vision sequence of two people cowering in a tent whilst the crew whistle and throw bricks at them.

Exists may also feature scenes of rock throwing but it at least shows us the monster responsible if nothing else.

And for that I remain grateful.

It's plot may be threadbare and it's lead a dead ringer for Alan Ormsby circa Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things (which is a little off-putting to say the least) but Blair Witch co-creator Sánchez makes things just interesting enough to keep your watching, you know exactly what's going to happen and when but the whole thing is inoffensive enough for you to not mind going along for the ride.

The films scant 86 minute running time doesn't hurt either. 

Like a pair of comfy slippers waiting by your favourite armchair after a long day brutalizing pensioners, the film appears to exist solely because it can do, almost as if everyone involved had a spare weekend and an old ladies fur coat lying about and decided it'd be a laugh to make a movie with it.

And at least in this case they let us in on the fun too.

Inoffensive, short and to the point.

Just like your mum.


Sunday, February 15, 2015

beetle's about.

To celebrate the upcoming release of Jurassic World here are some beetles dressed as the cast of the original film.

I'd say enjoy but no doubt the insects families will be in touch complaining about me taking the piss or being cruel to bugs or some such bollocks.

'ave a butchers!

Greetings dear reader(s)!

Been a busy month here at Arena Towers what with dodging angry cosplayers, actually doing some work and helping operation Yewtree with their enquiries (you're marked Ball) so I've been a wee bit worried that there wouldn't be any updates till at least 2023.

How great is it then that a loyal follower has come forward and offered to pen a review himself?

And it's written in English and everything.

Not like the normal shite I get sent.

Anyway, here's what he wrote:

Dear Dr. Lamont,

I like your writings on the films, you funny guy. I like writing on films too. You publish my writings on films and we both get along fine. You not and you be deader than Heath Ledger. When he died I said to my friend "Heath Ledger is died. Let us drink to him and his nights tail".

I say the same to you.



So ladies and gentlemen please welcome this months guest reviewer Master Jonathan Butcher, aged 16 from sunny Korea.

Not too sure if it's the good bit or bad bit he's from but hey, beggars can't be choosers.

Fearless Tiger (1991).
Dir: Ron Hulme.
Cast:  Jalal Merhi, Bolo Yeung, Monika Schnarre, Jamie Farr and Lazar Rockwood.

Fearless Tiger is Z-grade movie alchemy - it should be steaming great dollop of celluloid turd, but it’s actually a block of screen gold. It's a kung-fu action flick that is astoundingly, perhaps cosmically flawed in every way, but somehow it always manages to keep me coming back, like a scab that won't heal.

The “star” (ahem) of the show is high-kicking short-arse Jalal Merhi, "Beirut's answer to Steven Segal" according to his self-scrawled imdb biography. Mr Merhi owns "Film One Films", and had until 2008 been writing, directing, producing and starring in ultra low-budget stinkers in a quest to keep the world’s bargain buckets filled to the brim. 

 Fearless Tiger was one of his first movies, and its extreme amateurishness combined with the enthusiasm of its cast, including Jamie Farr of Mash fame doing his best “indefinable Middle Eastern” accent, are what make it such a cracking watch.
Lyle, daddy and wife-to-be. Platform shoes, perspective and a big hat help to make Lyle appear marginally less tiny.
The story follows protagonist Lyle as he struggles with both ruthless drug lords and the English language. 

To explain the entire pothole-ridden plot would take too long, but suffice to say it involves tacky-looking opium-filled Buddha statues being sold as cheap souvenirs (?), police corruption, brutal underground martial arts contests attended by kids and their cardigan-clad mothers, monks, kidnapping, backstabbing prostitutes and sensei masters with ballet dancing sidekicks. 
Lyle's opium-peddling nemesis is Salamar, who resembles a crack-smoking Asian hair-metaller and states repeatedly that his kung-fu monk drug gang “The Black Pearls” don’t use guns. 

He demonstrates this by showing how mercilessly he deals with employees who steal from him, when he and his chunky monk assistant Boh do the only thing that ruthless drug lords do to traitors: they push a thief into some shallow water. 
The many hideous faces of Salamar, the rumoured offspring of Axl Rose and a bulimic cockroach.
When Salamar and Boh fly to Canada for a martial arts contest, the lives of Lyle and his even tinier Ronnie Corbett-sized chum Detective Peng are changed forever. 

After getting mashed by Boh, Lyle buys a crappy Buddha statuette from Salamar which inexplicably turns out to be filled with Opium, thus setting him on the path towards chop-socky glory. 

However, because at this point Lyle is completely devoid of kung fu mastery, Peng invites him to Hong Kong to sharpen his piss-weak fighting skills.
It's not long before an absolute legend pops into the picture: Mr Stan Channing. 

The Chan-man plays Bailey, a straight-talking, no nonsense, badass police chief who is giving Peng a hard time about the opium-smuggling case he's been working on. 

The only trouble is, Mr Channing looks less like a psycho and more like a frail, 60-year-old maths teacher whose pupils pelt him with spitballs and lock him in cupboards. 

According to Jalal Merhi, this endearingly dithering codger is actually a black belt in real life, but sadly we never get to see him whooping anyone.

The mighty Stan Channing, masterfully chewing out Peng. Cower, mortals!

  Lyle's yuppy brother OD's on the same opium he found in his Poundland Buddha statue, a new street drug known as "fish food", which is apparently "more lethal than guns". This makes me question its long-term selling power, but regardless, it's up to Lyle to abandon his affluent job and towering, long-faced supermodel fiancé to wreak revenge on the purveyors of fish food, by learning the deadly Tiger Claws fighting style in Hong Kong.

  Lyle's first teacher is Do Man, who seems to read his script phonetically and without any grasp of its meaning. After a stretch of thoroughly dull training montages, during which Lyle throws a massive blob-strop and tosses a load of paint over the floor, Lyle decides to compete in the "Beh Moh". 

This totally irrelevant plot distraction is a dangerous underground fighting contest with competitors that include a growling fat fucker with a permed mullet, a scrawny giant with a wobble-head and a balding, unhealthy looking American who looks like he’s accidentally wandered on set while looking for an AA meeting. 

Lyle once again gets his Beirut butt pummelled by Boh, who is coincidentally fighting here too.

 After the patience-testing and totally inconsequential Beh Moh segment, Lyle, Peng, the shortass alcoholic and a cartoonishly tall black fellow team up to take Salamar’s drug-peddling monks down to cripple-town. 

Lyle finally manages to achieve the Tiger Claws technique after having a boogie on top of a mountain with mulleted legend Bolo Yeung and a leotard-clad ballet dancer. 

This sequence is a whole other level of ill-advised drivel, descending into interpretive dance before rising like a shit, inbred phoenix to a sweepingly clichéd shot of Lyle trying to grab a ball out of Bolo’s hand. This, apparently, concludes his training.

When Lyle returns to Canada, his poor bemused fiancé is kidnapped by Salamar’s giggling cronies, a crime seemingly cued by Salamar unnecessarily leaping through a thick glass patio window. 

They’re desperate for a computer disk that Lyle found in his discount Buddha which contains the recipe for Fish Food. 

In one of the most baffling film sequences I’ve ever seen, Lyle meets the drug dealers in an art gallery to exchange his vast wife-to-be for the disk. 

However, the criminals and our would-be-hero are interrupted by an elderly woman who just wants to look at the pretty pictures, and the employees of the gallery who inform them that their dodgy deal is taking place right at closing time.

Somewhere amongst the mishmash of poor editing, pointless flashbacks, over-acting, under-acting and not-at-all-acting there is the greatest "fake limb" sequence in low-budget film history (closely followed by the suicidal dummy in Zombie Holocaust/Dr Butcher MD, whose arm pops off when it hits the ground, only to be miraculously re-attached when we see the corpse in gory close-up). 
Our guest reviewer Jonathan in all his Kung Fu glory!

Not to spoil the tension-free story (oh alright, I will), but Salamar and his cronies are in a car chasing Lyle and his lady, who are balanced on the back of a slowly-moving rubbish truck. 

 Salamar foolishly clambers out of the sun roof to get a clear shot at them (using firepower for the second time in the film, despite endlessly wittering on about his gang not needing guns). 

 When the car swerves, Salamar stumbles backwards, somehow managing to land head-first into the car with his legs flailing out the top. 

 The car skids and flips spectacularly with a preposterous-looking pair of dummy-double legs poking out of the sun roof for what must be ten full seconds’ screen time.

After the explosion, Salamar’s henchman Jerome and Lyle have the clumsiest fight of a film consisting solely of clumsy fights, and somehow Jerome ends up vanishing into a pile of garbage. Boh jumps over, clobbers Lyle , grabs the disk and wobbles slowly away, ready for the movie’s mind-blowingly anticlimactic climax during which Lyle lobs a TV at Boh, fails to use any of his training and then wanders gracelessly off into the sunset.

For trash aficionados, Fearless Tiger simply has to be seen. It’s a melting pot of directorial ineptitude, horrendous acting, tension-free storytelling, ludicrous-looking cast-members, and a script with more plotholes than plot. I would encourage any and all to track it down, watch it and then never speak of it again.

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

dirty den.

Been getting a lot of online hate and threats recently so a friend suggested this little gem to cheer me up.

The Den (2013.)
Dir: Zachary Donohue.
Cast: Melanie Papalia, David Schlachtenhaufen, Adam Shapiro, Anna Margaret Hollyman, Matt Riedy, Katija Pevec, Saidah Arrika Ekulona, Anthony Jennings, Victoria Hanlin and Anushka Rani.

Small-faced social media studies gal Liz (Papalia from Smiley - but we wont hold that aginst her) has decide that, rather than indulge in some hard graft to base her graduate thesis around the online activities of random users of a Chatroulette/Omegle style website called "The Den".

Ask your wee sister or alternatively go online and check it out yourself, remember tho' most users are very shy so best to pretend to be a 15 year old boy when talking to young girls as to appear less threatening.

Also if they offer to get undressed it's bad manners to refuse to watch.

Hoping to prove that the internet isn't just full of middle-aged perverts, angry Doctor Who cosplayers - and their mums - and sad lonely film reviewers, Liz is understandably disappointed when her online research reveals just that.

I must mention tho' that her exploration of the net also turns up an amusing puppet penis that does impressions of the monolith from 2001: A Space Odyssey that I feel doesn't get enough recognition in any of the movies other write-ups so it's not all bad.

If I'm honest the makers should cast the penis is the sequel and have done with it, I mean imagine a movie where a massive ejaculating foam cock takes on the evils of online crime and perversion.

Well I'd watch it.

But I digress.

Anyways, luckily (for her and for us) she soon comes across (but not in a sexual way, she saves that for her boyfriends face later) a video that purporting to be the gruesome murder (by death) of a young Indian girl (Rani from the hit teevee show Modern Family).

Now Liz is intrigued.

"...And her come the Belgians!"

 Believing that she may have witnessed a real-life cockamamie snuff movie our little lipped lovely contacts the police who, after a few moments of hands on hips posturing, decide that there's nothing they can do save contact the 'cyber-crime' division.

Unfortunately there are no reports of giant silver men attempting to invade Earth from the sewers so the investigation is left to Liz.

"A quick trim madam?"

After convincing one her techie pal Max (CSI: Cyber and Ctrl Alt Delete star Shapiro - typecasting much?) that the video is real, he attempts, unsuccessfully to trace the account but it appears that it's being 'bounced' across too many 'servers' or something meaning that it's too complicated even for the Which? magazine guide to computing to help find.

Which to all intents and purposes is very complicated indeed.

Unbeknown to poor Liz tho' is that whilst all this online cyber-trickery is going on the killing culprits have 'hacked' (as opposed to slashed) her account.

And the first thing they do?

Why use Liz's webcam to film her having 'the sex' and email it to her college of course.

It's lucky then that the video is pretty badly lit so all you really see is Liz biting her lip whilst a big black blob makes short work of her lady garden which is frankly embarrassing but for all the wrong reasons.

Due to an excess of pubic hair Liz could never get trousers to fit.

With her lecturers disappointed by the lack of bush/boobs/bum on show they have no alternative but to suspend her studies prior to an investigation ordering Liz to stay offline and maybe get a hobby, or at least some sexy (but not tarty - she's a classy lady after all) underwear.

But Liz is convinced that there's something sinister afoot, much to the chagrin of he bizarrely angular of face boyfriend Damien (Schlachtenhaufen - bless you - Cousin of Steffen and Andy Schlachtenhaufen fact fans) who, obviously fazed by his girlfriends entire faculty seeing his arse has taken to hanging around the local zoo making lewd comments regarding the Giraffes.

Until he's kidnapped and his apartment emptied by peoples unknown that is.

You can probably guess that by this point Liz is feeling a wee bit paranoid.

The patented Ronco Handywank even proved a hit with the ladies.

And it's about to get worse as the mysterious murderer(s) are now using her computer ID to lure her friends to their deaths culminating in an attack on Liz's heavily pregnant (yet immaculately eyebrowed) sister Lynn (Hollyman from the classic Gayby).

Luckily the police arrive in time to spare the effects crew the nightmare of building a bloody baby foetus so Lynn is left unscathed save for the dark brown stain on the sofa.

With police officers guarding his sister and one taking Liz home to pack (I'm assuming she's going to a safe house not on holiday) you reckon you'd be safe to assume (as Liz does) that everything is going to be fine.

Which it is until one of her sisters attackers returns to collect a hidden camera.

And berate Lynn for being a single mum.

Which is nice if a wee bit unnecessary seeing as he really doesn't have much of a moral high ground.

But what of Liz? I hear you ask, how's her packing going?

Well it's going OK till her laptop suddenly switches on, giving the poor girl a front row seat (so to speak) of the murder of the fairly useless (if I'm honest) of Sgt. Tisbert who's currently investigating Max's apartment.

Let's see him say it's all fake now.

Well he wont be saying anything will he?

Because he's dead.

"Chase me now!"

Liz stands (well stoops but she has had a stressful day so we'll let that go) in silence as the screen cuts to another feed, this time showing her standing inside the apartment.


Attempting to remove the camera from the air-vent she's rudely interrupted by a sack-clothed masked man bursting in and trying to kill her, unfortunately for him Liz is a little pissed of and takes it out on the poor fella.

With a knife.

In his chest.

Finding her police escort dead Liz makes a run for the relative safety of the deserted night-time streets (um, yeah, right) but is not too surprisingly attacked again and this time knocked unconscious which can only mean that we're approaching the films climax.

And hopefully it'll be more satisfying than the one she had earlier.

"I'm not a real miner!"

Waking to find herself chained to a wall in a filth covered room (with a camera welded to head head to boot) with only a laptop for company.

A laptop that soon springs to life with a video of her badly beaten boyfriend.

Bleedy and bruised he has only enough time to inform Liz that there are others there like them before he too is brutally murdered.

Liz sits shaking with fear as echoing footsteps draw ever nearer....

Will she survive?

Who is behind this nefarious scene?

And more importantly will she get the 250 quid for any of the videos from You've Been Framed?

After waiting 4 hours for it to download, Adam is slightly disappointed by Liz's leaked sex video.

Shot almost entirely through the use of webcam and a direct-capture card, first time feature director Zachary Donohue's The Den utilising not only the technology but the buffering and glitch ridden annoyances that go along with it to great effect in what is in reality a good old fashioned warning to the curious about the dark side of the internet via the trappings of the found footage ethic if not the genre itself.

The eponymous setting of The Den website itself is instantly recognizable to anyone who's ever spent a bored few hours surfing the web, featuring as it does an abundance of vaguely embarrassing nudity, horny loners and the socially unwell, lulling the character of Liz - as well as the audience into a false state of security before plunging her headfirst into a mish-mash of urban legends regarding snuff movies, the real-life crime of online stalking and privacy alongside conspiracy theories as well as a liberal dash of good old fashioned fears of the unknown.

She might look a wee bit pensive now but just wait till the My Little Pony toy fuckfest starts....

And whilst it might not be the most original movie ever made it has a grittily unique lo-fi style that adds immeasurably to the films real-world look and even manages to deliver quite a few jumps along the way.

Which is no mean feat in itself.

Plus it's a lot less tedious - and considerably shorter than The Babadook which is a blessing.

Add to that the fact that Melanie Papalia's arse is so much peachier than Noah Wiseman's and you know you're onto a winner.

The films main failing comes not from it's actors (cute arsed or not) or direction but it's running time, or lack thereof, clocking in as it does at a teeny 72 minutes, meaning that the whole police involvement subplot alongside that of Max's investigations feel a little rushed and underdeveloped. In fact the whole plot of Liz's life being manipulated would really benefit from a much longer runtime and slower pace.

Did  Donohue and co. get worried that they'd run out of cash before the shoot was finished?

Or were they worried that the audience wouldn't have the patience to see a movie that unfolded slowly rather than your average horror popcorn thrower?

Who knows?

Tho' if it's the latter then it's a crime worse than those committed by the movies villains.


Wise man....crap arse.

If anything The Den would make a fantastic mini-series, with the extra time given over to the unfolding conspiracy, maybe even implicating the authorities (or some of Liz's friends and family) in what, we are led to believe is a global murder network. 

The paranoia would be palpable.

Under-rated and under-viewed, The Den is worth searching for.

Just make sure you unplug your computer after viewing.