Zombieland: The TV Series (Pilot)

Director: Eli Craig (2013)

Starring: Kirk Ward, Tyler Ross, Maiara Walsh

Find it: IMDB

The Walking Dead a little too depressing and gory for your crybaby sensibilities? Have no fear, for the Zombieland TV series is here to show the lighter side of the zombie apocalypse. A sequel to 2009's movie, this pilot picks up not far on down the road. We rejoin Columbus, Tallahassee, Wichita and Little Rock, attempting to survive in a world overrun by zombies. No eyeball gouging or limb removal (so far) for this merry band of misfits though - Zombieland: The TV Series is more akin to My Name is Earl than The Walking Dead.

Fans of the movie will be disappointed to learn that none of the actors or actresses have made the transition to the little screen. In the case of Jesse Eisenberg, that's no big loss, but when you consider that Woody Harrelson was the best thing about Zombieland, the series has a bit of an uphill struggle on its hands. And Emma Stone, of course, will always be missed, in everything (even in movies and series she had nothing to do with in the first place). While Tyler Ross is a good fit for Columbus (in a Michael Cera sort of way), Kirk Ward is no Woody Harrelson. It's as though they didn't even really try.

And that's perhaps for the best, since a bad impression of Woody Harrelson would have potentially been even worse. Ward is amusing in his own way, but doesn't really have time to give his own approximation of the character. At the moment, everyone is in the shadow of what came before, and half an hour isn't long enough to do anything about that. It does a great job of capturing the movie's atmosphere though, with many of the same tricks and ideas at play. Returning are the little on-screen 'rules for survival' and 'zombie kill of the week' bits. They're all very welcome. The plot, flimsy as it is (the guys look, unsuccesfully, for fellow survivors) serves as a nice re-introduction to our heroes. The funniest joke is a moment where Tallahassee calls Columbus "Zuckerberg." The Social Network, geddit.

I genuinely hope that Zombieland: The Series does well. This pilot is funny, comically gory and likeable. The Walking Dead may have the monopoly on TV zombies at the moment, but that shouldn't mean that we can't still have a laugh elsewhere at their expense. Frankly, moody Rick Grimes and his chums could do with lightening up a bit anyway.

8. Tales From The Crypt: And All Through the House

It's your Horror Review Advent Calendar.

25 Christmas themed movies.

Ho, ho, ho.

Director: Robert Zemeckis (1989)

Starring: Mary Ellen Trainor, John Kassir, Larry Drake

Find it: IMDB

A chilly segment of the horror chocolate orange that is Tales From The Crypt. But not the one starring Joan Collins. ...And All Through the House is an episode of the television series, directed by Robert Zemeckis. Despite telling the same story, this version does it in an altogether more colourful fashion (befitting the original garish EC Comics). There are even jokes; all of them funnier than anything in The Santa Clause. One of them is even a "Santa Clause" joke.

One merry Christmas Eve, Joanne (Trainor) murders her husband, smashing his head in with a poker. Those Tales From The Crypt people; always murdering their bloody relatives. As she's hiding the body, she hears a news bulletin announcing that there's a murderous bastard on the loose wearing a Santa outfit. Joanne runs into the killer outside, scoping her house with an axe. She fights him off and barricades herself indoors. But she can't call the police on account of her serious case of dead husband. Doom is brought about when her greedy little fuck child lets 'Santa' into the house. With a nasal cry of "where are my presents?" mummy's death sentence is signed. Children; little shits would start the apocalypse if they thought there was a present in it for 'em. They don't tell you that on the John Lewis adverts.

The wonderful Larry Drake plays psycho Santa, trashing the set with the same glee as he did in Darkman and Doctor Giggles. This version lacks the original's creepiness (and Joan Collins' disturbing 1970s' sultriness) but tries to make up for it by being louder, more melodramatic and funnier. But like any scene-for-scene remake, if you've seen the original, it all feels a little predictable and pointless. I hoped for some sort of twist on the ending, but it's pretty much the same. If anything, it's less graphic. But if you've not seen the original Tales From The Crypt movie (WHAT) ...And All Through the House will be a treat.

Inferior or not, it does have its uses. When I was but a wee brat, my grandmother used to have a phrase saved for whenever we misbehaved. "Father Christmas is up that chimney," she'd say, "he's watching you." Ever the atheist, I believed even less in Santa than I did god. But my stupid cousins, they were shitting themselves. Like clowns, Santa is every bit as terrifying as he is jolly and lovely. Just imagine if my dear old gran had let us watch Tales Of The Crypt. Parents take note: Used correctly, Larry Drake Santa Claus will keep your kids in line for years to come. Next time that little ponce refuses to eat his or her sprouts, show them this episode. Larry Drake's up that chimney. He's watching you.

31. Futurama: Jurassic Bark

Director: Swinton O. Scott III, Rich Moore (2002)

Starring: Billy West, Katey Sagal, John DiMaggio

Find it: IMDB

Mankind's single greatest achievement. The pinnacle of all animation, television and scripted entertainment anywhere. Jurassic Bark is the single greatest individual episode of any television series ever. No matter how many times I watch this episode (and I've seen it a lot) it never fails to reduce me to a blubbering wreck come the final montage. It is perfectly structured, written, acted and constructed. Jurassic Bark is the crowning episode for a TV series already overflowing with wit, intelligence and heart. Heartbreaking heart.

Delivery boy Fry visits a museum dedicated to the 20th Century. He is shocked to find the fossilized remains of his pet dog, Seymour, exhibited there. For three days he protests outside the museum, until they relent and give him the fossil. Professor Farnsworth discovers that a clone of Seymour can be made from the remains. Jealous Bender grabs the fossil and throws it in a pit of lava. Fry is devastated. Seeing his master's love for the dog ("I thought you were only pretending to love him to toy with my emotions") Bender leaps in the pit and retrieves Seymour. Just as Farnsworth is about to begin the cloning process, Fry has a sudden change of heart. "Seymour went on to live a full and happy life without me", he thinks. Concluding that Seymour would have forgotten all about him by the time he died, Fry violently aborts the operation. But did Seymour forget all about his beloved master after all? NO, NOT IN THE SLIGHTEST.

If you didn't find that video the most beautifully miserable thing ever, then you're an emotional husk. That final minute of the episode has affected me far more than any Requiem For A Dream, Bambi, Dancer In The Dark or death of Buffy. It is the perfect riposte to anyone who might claim that animation is shallow or childish. There are funnier and cleverer episodes of Futurama, but none reach the same notes. Some (The Luck Of The Fryish) come close, and others are heartbreaking for different reasons (Time Keeps On Slippin, The Devil's Hands Are Idle Playthings) but none have quite the sting (also a good episode) of Jurassic Bark.

The below score, by the way, is the highest 5/5 on the site. The below 5/5 is the standard by which everything else shall forever be judged.

Harper's Island

Director: TV Series (2009)

Starring: Elaine Cassidy, Christopher Gorham, Matt Barr

Find it: IMDB, Amazon

Harper's Island should be, judging by the description, crack for horrorhounds. It's like a slasher movie, right? Only there are thirteen episodes and the cast is enormous. Each episode is titled something onomatopoeic, like 'snap', 'crackle' or 'pop'. Okay, maybe not that last one, but episode titles such as 'thrack, splat, sizzle' suggest promising violence worthy of a Friday the 13th. Harper's Island should by all rights be the best television series ever. Well think again, silly horror idiot. Harper's Island is like Prom Night or Sorority Row on a much larger scale.

Imagine Prom Night if it had lasted thirteen hours. That's what Harper's Island is like.

Well, not quite. I'm being cruel. Thirteen hours of Harper's Island is still preferable to even ten minutes of that bullshit Prom Night remake. The series takes place on the titular Harper's Island, where a large party have gathered for the wedding of Henry Dunn to Trish Wellington. The Wellington girl being most recognizeable from the Nightmare On Elm Street remake, where she thoroughly sucked. But everybody sucked in that movie, so we won't hold it against her.

Back in the day on Harper's Island, serial killer John Wakefield went on a murder spree and totally killed the protagonist's mother. Well that protagonist - a girl called Abby (Elaine Cassidy) is back for the wedding. But so, it appears, is John Wakefield (or possibly an imitator). As the ceremonies get underway, people begin to die. It's a good ten episodes or so before anyone actually realizes that there might be a killer on the loose. And it was a good five episodes before that when I lost interest. Specifically, the second episode.

The series' big hook is that anyone, supposedly, could die at any time. But aside from a couple of minor surprises, not really, no. Spoilers. It's perfectly obvious that Abby and the happy couple are staying for the duration, and you can more or less predict who'll be sticking around for some time too. The others, you couldn't give two shits about. Well, maybe three or four shits. I kinda liked the nerdy English guy and his girlfriend. Likewise, the identity of the killer becomes more and more obvious towards the end, despite the show's best efforts to throw you off the trail.

Nice try. Maybe I'd care if there were more than two likeable characters, but most of Harper's Island's inhabitants are either dull or unbearable. Maybe they should have called it Arseholes' Island. It's nice to see them die, but not worth the amount of time it takes to see that. Although when the action does amp up towards the end, it is done with an admirable amount of pizazz. Not enough gore, but a high kill count and lots of explosions make up for that.

Harper's Island is passable television. It's melodramatic and annoying and stupid, but horror fans should find something to enjoy amongst all of the nonsense. As it is though, there's only one good TV series about unlikeable people dying on an island. And Harper's Island is not that TV series.

But at least it doesn't end in purgatory. Because that, y'know, would be stupid.

Scary Trek: Star Trek: The Rape Episode

Warning: this article contains Star Trek.

Director: Robert Wiemer (1992)
Starring: Patrick Stewart, Jonathan Frakes, Marina Sirtis,
Find it online: IMDB, Wikipedia

Two things that don't go very well together: Star Trek and real world issues. I know Captain Kirk came close once or twice (generally in evil twin mode), but it was in the 1992 Next Generation episode tellingly entitled Violations that Star Trek took a startling and uncharacteristically dark turn.

I plop you not, Violations gave me nightmares as a child. So did Kenneth Branagh's Frankenstein and The Beano, but we'll overlook that for now. It combines Freddy Krueger-esque dream antics with unpalatable brain rape to create what might be the most disturbing Star Trek episode you'll ever see. You'd think that might be a good thing, but I don't want to be disturbed by Star Trek. I watch Star Trek to oggle Marina Sirtis' boobs and Jonathan Frakes' epic beard. And I was a child at the time. Thanks for the mental trauma, Star Trek.

In a standard space envoy mission, the starship Enterprise conveys a delegation of Ullians to Calder IV. Forgive me, non Trekkers won't have understood a word of that last sentence. The Ullians are a telepathic lot who amble along helping others retrieve lost memories. One of the Ullians is a little more aggressive in his brain-reading, and sets about invading people's memories, inserting random horrible bits as he goes. His first crime sees him violate the uninteresting mind of uninteresting character Deanna Troi (Sirtis), having an otherwise nice memory turn horrible when on/0ff lover Will Riker (Frakes) gets all gropey on her. This horrible and quite literal mindfuck puts Troi in a coma. Quick to follow are Riker, the ship Doctor and Captain Picard himself (Stewart). Even scarier than the story is Patrick Stewart's fake hair in this nightmare sequence:

As the episode title suggests, far more is going on here than simple Dream Demon shenannigans. The episode writers and director are quite obviously trying to create a rapey subtext. Subtelty and sensitivity, Star Trek is not thy name. Rewatching it now as an adult, the episode isn't very scary. In fact, those once-traumatic nightmare sequences now seem a bit overserious, melodramatic and silly. But it goes to show how much of an affect it had that even now, watching Violations gives me chills. But mostly, it goes to show how stupid children are. Or, more specifically, how stupid I child I was. Am.

The theme was revisited again in Star Trek: Nemesis. Mind you, that's what happen when you let Tom Hardy near a Star Trek movie. We don't expect it from the cuddly Next Generation crew. Thankfully it's all forgotten by the next episode. By the by, you might want to clear your Internet History after this. Not because of its adult nature - but you don't want anyone to find out you've been reading up on Star Trek, do you?

3 crap serial killers of British TV

An episode of the Review Hole that even your granny can read! The rest of the world might think itself clever with The Wire, Dexter and its Wallander and other such incredible TV, but never let it be said that us Brits can't do compelling telly drama. Whilst our soap operas are mostly content to settle for boring affairs between ugly people, every so often a telly executive will introduce a serial killer to up the ratings and kill off a few less popular characters. Here, dear reader is a list of the three most prolific. No wait, the other thing... really, really shit.

Richard Hillman (Coronation Street)

Eeeh, it's grim up north. Coronation Street details the uninteresting lives of uninteresting people in the fictional district of Weatherfield, Manchester. Aside from Red Dwarf's Dave Lister, nobody has a Mancunian accent, although it does have the Doctor from off've Empire of the Sun and Snoop Dogg lists himself as a fan. The first of our serial killers is perhaps the most famous on the list; the now-infamous Richard Hillman (well, infamous if you're 65 and read The Radio Times). Looking to cash in on a life insurance deal or something, he bludgeoned an old woman and an annoying bimbo woman to death with a crowbar and let some fella die after falling down a flight of stairs. Dastardly.

As his heinous crimes were unearthed by hamster-faced wife Gail, Richard (AKA "Norman Bates with a briefcase") went crazy and tried to kill his family, driving their car into a canal. Sadly for our inept killer, nobody died except for himself. And so ended Coronation Street's tenure of being mildly interesting. Regional dullness would follow, punctuated by the occasional affair and 'comedy' 'interlude'. Until our next offender came along, that is...

Tony Gordon (Coronation Street)

Hoping we'd all forgotten about the virtually identical Richard Hillman killings, Coronation Street brought in its next serial killer character. A one-eyed bumbling Scottish villain named Gordon? No, not that one: I'm talking about Tony Gordon, knicker-salesman cum Resevoir Dogs reject. His initial crimes started off as crappy as they always do. Bits of blackmail, mild threatenings and the menacing of an old man. Then Tony killed some bats and we knew he'd reached the next level of mundane evil. Overcome with a fit of jealousy, Tony a love rival murdered, then went and made himself some advances on the dead man's wife. His plottings were eventually uncovered by a trainspotter, and Tony was duly sent to prison for murder:

Well, for about five minutes. Following his confession, Tony had a change of heart and broke out of prison, looking for bloody vengeance. So he kidnapped his ex-wife, his one true love, and a local transsexual (not all the same person, honest) and set fire to the knicker factory with them all in it. Once more, nobody died except for Tony himself. Go ineptitude.

Lucas Johnson (Eastenders)

A serial killer so recent he's still at large. If I was black/a Christian, I'd be offended by its depiction of preacher Lucas Johnson. There are still relatively few black characters in our soaps, and even less openly Christian characters. And so Eastenders makes one of its most prominent black characters an ex-gangbanger, and then has his Christianity turn him into an actual serial killer. With black leather gloves and everything. Victim no.1 is ex-wife, sometime fuckbuddy and crackhead Trina. Technically not murder, since she steps on a rake (yes, just like in that episode of The Simpsons) and bleeds out. Although his leaving her to die is morally and legally dubious. Second victim is his current-wife's ex-husband and abuser Owen. Poor Owen gets strangled in the back of a car then buried under a tree. His next victim escaped the hangman's noose thanks to a real-life and quite prolific murder case which saw the BBC refilm scenes where Lucas murders a prostitute. Disaster averted.

Well, for about five minutes. Mere weeks later, Lucas lost it again and strangled wife Denise in the back of a car. All this whilst proclaiming himself the second coming of Christ ("I thought you were my Mary Magdeline. You're the whore of babylon")You're probably not supposed to laugh at the sight of her feet flailing against the windows, but I did and you will. He then framed her for his other crimes and went on to act all ("OMG WTF") at the "news" of his "murderous" wife's "suicide". The story hasn't yet come to a close, but expect it to finish in an explosive climax in which no-one dies but Lucas himself.

CLIFFHANGER MOMENT.

THIS HAS BEEN A SLOW NEWS DAY.

TUNE IN SOON FOR ACTUAL ITEMS OF ACTUAL RELEVANCE

Action Movie Monday Presents: Steven Seagal: Lawman

Because Steven Seagal: Sex Traffiker wasn't quite as catchy

Imagine Dog the Bounty Hunter crossed with one of Steven Seagal's modern STD era 'action' 'movies' and K-Ville, and you essentially get the gist of Steven Seagal: Lawman. If the aforementioned canine Bounty Hunter were to lose all of his hair, eat a few more pies and cruise around in a cop car arresting perps even less deserving, then it'd very much resemble Lawman as it is. Steven Seagal in Lawman is like Eric Cartman in that episode of South Park. RESPECT MY AUTHORITAAAHHH.

As the adverts are so fond of reminding you, Lawman is completely real and not at all manufactured. There's no acting here; as if they need to tell us. Steven Seagal doesn't know the meaning of the word acting. In Jefferson County, Louisiana, we find Steve playing cop. Over the bits of episodes I half-saw, Seagal arrested a druggy, chased a scrawny gangbanger, got rid of an annoying pisshead and sorted out a case where it looked like a kid had been run over but he actually he hadn't. The one common thread that held all these investigations together was the fact that Seagal had nothing to do with any of the policework. From what I saw, Seagal spends a lot of time poking his torch down dingy alleyways, signing autographs and lecturing uninterested poor people about Aikido and the importance of good parenting. All of this is interspersed with lots of footage of Seagal being condescending to black people and calling them "brother" a lot. I like Steven Seagal and his movies, but Lawman isn't a very interesting programme. Like its star, it takes itself far too seriously and is nowhere near as dynamic as it thinks it is. RESPECT MY AUTHORITAAAAHHHH, BROTHER.

Unimportant crimes sort-of foiled, Seagal goes on to visit a hospital for sick kids. Unfortunately, he doesn't punch any of them in the face. He can't even be bothered to get a body double to do it. In fact, nobody gets punched or even nearly punched at all over the course of Lawman. Seagal could obviously use a case of his own Lightning Bolt. Obviously trafficking sex is tiring business, since Seagal looks quite tired as he undertakes his lawman duties. Although since his dodgy doings have been discovered, the series has been cancelled, hopefully giving mister Seagul time to concentrate on one thing at a time. What with the crappy criminal activities, crappy energy drinks, crappy movies, crappy singing and crappy TV series all on the go at once, it looks like it might be time for the big man to chill out a bit. (Maybe the forthcoming and excellent-looking Machete will buck things up a bit). That said, no-one does crappy as reliably as our Steven Seagal. It's quite reassuring in a crappy sort of way. RESPECT MY CRAPPY AUTHORITAHHH, BROTHER.

Dead Set

Creator: Charlie Brooker (2008)

Starring: Jaime Winstone, Andy Nyman, Kevin Eldon, Davina McCall

Find it online: IMDB, Amazon UK, Amazon US

Ah, summer. Lovely summer, at least until something that comes along and ruins it all. Picture the scene. I'm at home, overheated and bored. I text a friend, wanting to visit a beer garden or the like. Okay, I don't have any friends, but if I did they'd repy with this: "sorry chum. Watching the football/Big Brother." This year I get not only the World Cup, but the grand finale of Big Brother too.

Football, you suck. But that's hardly an appropriate topic for a horror blog. Nor would Big Brother be normally, but more on that later. Big Brother. Never have two words made me so unfairly hate a piece of popular literature so much. George Orwell's 1984 is arguably one of the greatest books ever written. What Channel 4 did in its name... not so much.

For me, Big Brother the literary villain has become regreattably overshadowed by Big Brother the shitty TV monster. Every summer, around 15 zany fuckheads and imbeciles are piled into a luxury mansion and tortured live on television for around three months. Over the seven or eight years it's been broadcasting, Big Brother has brought us race rows, the proliferation of Stupid Celebrity, bullying, bottle wanking, Jade fucking Goody and a truly bizarre moment with a Scottish MP in a catsuit. Nothing is garanteed to make me turn my telly set off faster than the words "Day ten-hundred-and-fifty-seventy in the Big Brutha Hooo-ooose. Becky is smoo-oking a cigarette" (re-read that sentence out loud in a Geordie accent). Just typing those words made my brain seep a little bit inside.

To my count, precisely three good things have come out of Big Brother. (1) Kerrang Radio DJ Kate Lawler (2) Russell Brand on Big Brother's Little Brother and (3) Dead Set. Dead Set, created and written by telly critic and journalist Charlie Brooker is to my mind, the greatest piece of genre television in recent memory. Over the course of five episodes, Brooker sculpts the finest piece of zombie cinema (and it deserves watching more like a movie than TV series) since 28 Days Later. It's everything a good zombie movie should be; terrifying, grotesque, funny and socially relevant.

Dead Set takes place in the Big Brother household, during a fictional series of the programme. On the outside, there's only a bloody zombie apocalypse on. Britain is very quickly overrun. Only a few survivors remain. At the TV studio, a disparate group of ex-housemates, friends and producers pile into the house and join the perplexed, oblivious housemates.

As anyone familiar with Charlie Brooker's work might expect, the writing is sharp, scathing and funny. His Big Brother housemates are at once recognizeable, grossly caricatured and sympathetic. It also has the perfect villain in Andy Nyman's Patrick - possibly the most unpleasant character ever committed to TV. It's to the series' credit that they actually managed to create an individual more unlikeable than the programme's real-life contestants. But there are so many great characters in Dead Set that it's unfair to pick Patrick as 'best' by any means. I also enjoyed the sympathetic chav, Jaime Winstone's sympathetic Kelly, hippy Joplin and especially Zombie Davina McCall. Its character work is perhaps the series strongest point.

This is the definition of a gushing review, but there's so much to love about Dead Set - especially when approached from the perspective of a horror fan. The amount of gore and violence on display is a shocker when you consider this was broadcasted on national TV - and the action easily rivals that of 28 Days Later or the Dawn of the Dead remake. And in a grotesque sort of way, the ending is just beautiful; the perfect ending to such a story and the perfect peice of commentary on our Idiot TV Nation.

This year, as I've done every one since 2008, I won't be tucking into the final series of BB. I daresay it'll be back in some form sooner or later, like the proverbial bad penny it is. No, I'll be showing the zombie apocalypse some love with Charlie Brooker's Dead Set. I always hoped there would be a jungle-set riff on I'm a Celebrity/Zombie Holocaust sequel. Until that happens, I'm Dead Set on re-watching this outstanding little piece of genre TV.*

* Shi-iit. That makes this the third post in the row ending on a title based pun. This place really does suck.

The End

Warning. Here be a great many spoilers. Now, I knows that LOST isn't horror at all, but I couldn't let the big finale of my favourite TV show of the noughties pass by without a few words. And by a few, I mean 'lots'. If you haven't been watching, then chances are you won't understand this review at all. I'm still not etirely sure what happened myself.

One thing's for sure though - The End delivers ultimate Jackface and a Star Trek-esque flying punch. Also, fan favourite Frank Lapidus returns in all his hearty hair-chested glory. Lapidus' return from the dead was all a bit convenient though, as it provides the surviving Losties with a rather neat way off've the island. But first, that pesky business of defeating Smoke-Locke/Smocke/UnLocke. He and Jack drop Desmond into the heart of the island, whereupon the plucky Scotsman pulls out the plug (!) causing the place to begin collapsing. Smokey is now able to leave the island. But also, he's mortal again. Jack chases him down, but is mortally wounded. Kate shoots Smokey, killing him dead. But the island's still breaking down. Jack bids farewell to Sawyer and Kate, before heading off to recork the island. He's accompanied by Ben and Hurley, neither of whom want to leave. Kate and Sawyer, picking up Claire en route, board Lapidus' convenient airplane and leave the island along with Miles and Richard Alpert.

Phew. Jack realises that he'll have to die in saving the island. He makes Hurley his successor as God of the Island (poor Ben - passed over again) and drops down the hole into the island's heart. He rescues a semi-conscious Desmond and replaces the plug. As the island returns to 'normality', Jack wanders alone into the jungle. Ready to die, he collapses. Making a welcome return, Vincent snuggles up at his side and watches him go. As Jack's eye closes (GET IT, THE INVERSE OF HOW THE SERIES BEGAN) an airplane passes overhead. And so it ends.

Sort of. But before that, something a little bit more slushpot. Remember the alternate universe? The flashsideways? Actually, they're not. It turns out that the other universe is actually the Losties' own purgatory; a place they could all gather after death and reminisce on the good ol' days. They're all there, re-united. Charlie and Claire, Shannon and Sayid, Sawyer and Juliet, Sun and Jin, Kate and Jack - everyone gets a happy ending. Even the real John Locke. The whole purgatory thing is explained to Jack by father Christian Shepherd (yes, that gets a LOL from Kate too) who leads his son to a Church where everyone's waiting. Well, nearly everyone. Michael, Walt, Rose, Bernard and none of the tailies were invited. As an old-school LOST musical montage plays, Christian opens a set of doors and the Church is filled with blinding white light. And they all lived happily ever after. Or died happily ever after. Either way, everyone's happy. And they're all together. Not quite "Live together, die alone" is it?

On an emotional level, it's as perfect an ending as one could ever wish for. It had me getting all misty eyed at at least three points (Aaron's birth, Sun & Jin's re-awakening, Sawyer/Juliet's reunion) and I might as well have been bawling at Jack's death. But plotwise, well, it kinda sucks. I still have no idea why Smokey leaving the island was a bad thing - nor why everyone cared so much as to whether the place sunk or not. Purgatory is all fine and well, but I saw that last week on Ashes to Ashes. Talking of which, why are there no black people in purgatory? And shit, surely Nadia is Sayid's one true love, not bloody Shannon?

Those niggles aside, I really enjoyed the last of LOST. It's an action packed, emotional 2.5 hours of TV, and one of the best finales I've ever seen. Sure, they didn't answer many of the questions we've been asking for years, but did you really expect them to? As a fan, I got what I needed: copius Jackface (dying Jackface FTW), Vincent, Rose & Bernard and the return of Frank fucking Lapidus. It's been a fantastic six years following LOST. As we all knew it would, the series bows out with one last big mindfuck of a question on its lips: well couch potato, what you gonna do with your life now?

Memoirs of a Geisha: Takashi Miike style

Director: Takashi Miike (2006)

Starring: Billy Drago, Youki Kudoh, Michie

Find it online: IMDB, Amazon UK, Amazon US

However anyone ever thought Takashi Miike’s Imprint would ever get anywhere near TV broadcast is truly beyond me. I like how people were surprised when it was revealed that Miike had made something too horrible for TV. Yep, Imprint is hands down one of the most traumatic pieces of torture horror I’ve ever seen. Now, most of this is down to the torture itself, but also it's because Imprint is incredibly, indellibly, inedibly fucked up.

We’re in nineteenth century Japan. American journalist Christopher (Drago) is touring the country’s brothels in search of his love, Komomo; who he hopes to buy back from her dwarfo syphilitic pimp. But alas, the course of true love never did run smooth – she’s dead.

He’s told this by a disabled-faced unnamed hooker (Kudoh), who plies him with Sake and begins telling him her life story. This being a Miike film – think of it as his version of Memoirs of a Geisha - things inevitably get a lot more disturbing. By the time we get to the Japanese rope bondage and the forcing of bamboo down fingernails, things are already horrible enough. But Miike’s nowhere near done. Oh look, rape. Oooh, lovely, dead foetuses. Some of the imagery Miike delivers is as beautifully haunting as it is horrible. Well, mostly horrible. Whoever made that episode about the stupid fucking ice cream clown should be ashamed – Miike proves himself a master of horror in the truest sense. Some of the scenes in Imprint easily equal his own Audition and Ichi the Killer in terms of cringe-inducing nastiness, whilst there's a bit of Gozu style surrealism to his island of "demons and whores" too. Most of the other Masters of Horror episodes could have been directed by anyone; even Dario Argento's sublime Jenifer wasn't particularly recognizeable as an Argento flick in of itself (and the less said about Tobe Hooper's Dance of the Dead the better). Imprint, however, is a Takashi Miike film through and through. Those familiar with Miike's work will be somewhat unsurprised by the extremes to which the film travels. Everyone else will be shocked, traumatised, sickened and [insert other such outraged emotions].

Sadly, there are a few things that let Imprint down. Most notably, the decision to have all the dialogue spoken in English. It’s understandable for the scenes with Drago, but for the most part, it seems like a silly and commercial idea. And, even worse, the Japanese actresses suck at English. It sounds quite comical where it shouldn't, and really takes you out of the story. Billy Drago's performance is by turns wooden and overly melodramatic (if such a combination is possible) but not completely terrible. Still, it's an impressive achievment that Imprint got made at all, especially when you consider that the director doesn't speak English. Other niggles: the final reveal is perhaps a bit stupid; some of the CGI and practical effects suck - the syphilitic dwarf's nose looks distractingly rubbish.

Like much of the director's work, Imprint is divisive. Some will see it as just another torture turd, and will see the myriad of gruesomeness presented as deliberately attention-seeking and controversy for controversy's sake. It's a minor work, to be sure, but no means to be dismissed. After all, one suspects that very few would have given a shit about Masters of Horror were it not for this episode. It's ironic - Miike refuses to be labelled as just a 'horror director' - and then he goes and makes the most horrifying Masters episode of them all.

Torchwood: Children of Earth

The immortal Captain Jack Harkness and his Torchwood team (well, the few that haven’t died yet) are back for a five-episode special, originally screened every night on BBC1. Doctor Who’s adult spin-off is a decidedly more intelligent affair this time around, as the writers seem to have finally realised that “adult” doesn’t necessarily mean “smutty”.

It’s taken until its third season, but Torchwood has finally hit its prime. The story: Earth (specifically, England) is contacted by an alien race known only as the 456. Said aliens communicate through the Earth’s children: cue several creepy scenes in which playgrounds full of children speak in union (“we are coming,” “we are coming tomorrow” and “we are here”). That the aliens don’t arrive until late into episode three speaks a lot for Torchwood’s new found restraint. Most of the series consists of Torchwood-on-the-run, as their underground base is blown up by the government, and Captain Jack (repeatedly) killed (not a spoiler). As the aliens reveal their sinister motives and Torchwood begins to fight back, it’s up to Jack, Gwen Cooper and Ianto Jones to save the day. Interspersed with much misery and suffering, Doctor Who this ain’t.

The action kicks off with the aliens making their first announcement via the world’s children. Understandably, this sets alarm bells ringing at Torchwood HQ (think the MIB base, set in a drippy basement) and Jack and the team investigate. As Captain Harkness (John Barrowman, making a rare TV appearance) uncovers something he shouldn’t have, he brings down a government cover-up on his and his team’s head. Jack is blown to smithereens, and Gwen (Eve Myles) and Ianto (Gareth David-Lloyd) are forced to go into hiding. So ends the first episode.

Jack being invincible, however, he stays dead for about five minutes. The second episode is the weakest and the stupidest, consisting of a number of plot-holes and too much of John Barrowman’s flabby arse. But don't give up yet, because:

Episode three is relatively action-light. We follow eminently stressed MP John Frobisher (Peter Capaldi – the best thing about the series) as he conducts the first of Earth’s face-to-face meetings with the 546. Old scabs are picked, leading to Jack coming out of things smelling less than rosy.

In episode four, things get really depressing. Ianto is murderified by the 456, who have demanded 10% of the Earth’s children (which, it is revealed, they use as drugs.

If episode four was depressing, then the finale is an all-out masterclass in sustained misery. Told that he must give up his children to save government face, Frobisher instead chooses to murder them. And his wife. And then commits suicide. And, just to rub salt in the wound, we get to see Jack (more or less) murder his own grandson. Torchwood has an impressively high child death rate for a BBC drama. This episode is complete with a nifty little Cloverfield-style prelude, in which Gwen hazards a guess as to why The Doctor chooses sometimes to ignore the Earth at times of peril (answer: totally disgusted, apparently).

On the flipside of the Tardis, however, a lot of the acting still stinks. The supporting staff are universally brilliant – especially, as mentioned earlier, Capaldi – but the lead duo of John Barrowman and Eve Myles frequently threaten to derail things (Barrowman’s gasp whenever he is revived from death is shockingly awful) and it’s probably amongst the show’s biggest weaknesses. Mind, Barrowman is improving, and does quite well in the darker moments.

Having said that, there’s a bunch of great character moments. Whilst Jack still doesn’t quite gel with the way he’s portrayed in Doctor Who (less flirty, if that’s possible), the writers have managed to give a sense of the inherent loneliness that might come with living forever. It’s also great to see Ianto being given more to actually do here (not bad, considering he spent the first season making tea) and his relationship with Jack is given a neat bit of poignancy and actual depth. And then – in perhaps the writers’ bravest move - they go and kill him off.

Frequently daft yet entertaining second episode aside (shit henchmen incapable of firing in a straight line, John Barrowman’s flabby arse/cock, lots of plotholes, stupid happenstance) Children of Earth is an impressively mature piece of British sci-fi. Each episode contains a surprising amount of scenes set in government boardrooms and meetings – so much so that it occasionally feels like a Spooks crossover (in a good way). True, the final episode can’t possibly match up to what has gone before, but it isn’t as much a dud as so many other Doctor Who/Torchwood series finales – and the emotional impact at the end of episode five completely makes up all of Children of Earth’s faults.

Following this excellent sort-of-third-series, a third season is sure to ensue. What with this, Psychoville and the recent Dead Set, it looks as if British genre TV is finally starting to grow up.

Freddy's Nightmares - No More Mr. Nice Guy

The first in the series of Freddy’s Nightmare on Elm Street spin-off, No More Mr. Nice Guy is a prequel to the movies, showing the events which led up to one Fred Krueger becoming an infamous dream demon and punchbag to Jason Voorhees.

The episode opens with a faux ‘news report’, complete with graphics that look like they were made on Microsoft Paint. The news reporter gives a nice little ‘WTF’ expression, before being teleported away from behind the desk. The screen then cuts to some more MS Paint graphics; this time a bunch of green and red stripes that are probably supposed to represent Freddy’s jumper.

Talking of whom, we cut to Freddy, who is clouded in the shadows of a boiler room. “No no no! Don’t be afraid. This time it isn’t one of your nightmares… this one… was mine!”

News reporter dude is back, looking confused outside of a courtroom. He informs us that we’re at the trial of Fred Krueger. Inside, a pre-burning Freddy stands at the, um stand, looking smug. Although the evidence points to Freddy being entirely guilty, he is acquitted of the charges – apparently because the arresting officers never bothered to read him his rights.

Y’know, most people tend to wear a suit to court. Freddy goes the unconventional route, wearing his usual Christmas jumper and silly hat.

But anyway, as he leaves the court, the angered jury and outraged parents vow to take the law into their own hands. Freddy, meanwhile, clears off back to his boiler room and makes lots of growling noises whilst walking around in the darkness. I wonder if the upcoming remake will include Freddy’s ice cream van? I suppose if I were a child murderer, I’d drive around in an ice cream van too.

As this is happening, melodramatic 80s’ American rock plays in the background. You’d think Freddy’d want to lay low for a while, all things considered, but he’s far more content to sit in his lair and talk to his gloves, promising them some “feed” later. It’s interesting to note that, in this episode, we get the mostly-scary Freddy that we recognise from the first few Nightmare flicks. I guess it would’ve been difficult to have Funny Freddy come out to play while he was still in child-killer mode.

Anywizz, just as Freddy shows up to kill some girls (on the same night as he’s been acquitted of child-murder? You gotta admire the man’s dedication) a lynch mob appears and torches him - “tonight… the law is on vacation”. But it’s okay, because the child murderer seems to realise he can’t be killed. He just stands there and allows the parents to douse him in petrol – even encouraging them to do so (“that’s it… pour it all over me pig… gonna have a cook out, huh?") and just as he makes like a dog and goes woof (GET IT) there’s the inevitable “I’ll be baa-aaack!” By-the-by, I don't see anyone even remotely resembling John Saxon amongst the mob, so it's hard to say where this episode lies in relation to Nightmare continuity.

The rest of the episode follows the cop who burned Freddy, setting up Kreuger’s new MO as a dream killer. Freddy taunts the cop for a bit, ramming him with his ice cream van, and then finally finishing him off in a dentists’ chair. And so ends the first episode of Freddy’s Nightmares.

It’s a shame, because this series could have been good had a little more been lavished upon it in the budget, script and acting stakes. This pilot episode, inparticular had potential. And – while it’s far from classic Freddy – it does make for interesting viewing.

No More Mr. Nice Guy is mostly shit, but gets an extra Scream Queen simply because of that potential. Expect further episodes to be reviewed sporadically, when I can be arsed to look them up on youtube.



3/5 screaming Scream Queens!!!