It Came From Poundland: ALONE WITH HER

Director: Eric Nicholas (2006)
Starring: Colin Hanks, Ana Claudia Talancon, Jordana Spiro
Find it: IMDB

Thanks to the British economy going down the shitter, the high street is ruled by three great powers: Poundland, Primark and 99p Stores. In these giants, anything is possible. For 99p, one can buy two cans of an energy drink called POWER HORSE. And let me tell you, POWER HORSE gives you exactly the energy boost that one would expect from a drink called POWER HORSE. In Primark, you can get your very own Batsuit (don't call it a onesie) for £15. In Poundland, however, they have taken to selling something  very much within this website's remit: horror movies.

Is it possible to buy decent horror for £1? Joel Harley investigates. I have bought an awful lot of this Poundland horror, since they first began stocking it. I've never watched a single one, until now. Who knows, this might become a regular feature.

Alone With Her has the very interesting distinction of starring Tom Hanks's creepy-looking son. I first noticed Colin Hanks in Untraceable, during which I thought "that guy looks like a young Tom Hanks". He has since popped up in the latest series of Dexter and the odd romcom and television episode. In Alone With Her, he takes centre stage as a very, very creepy man.

Doug (Hanks) meets Amy (Talancon) and promptly sets up secret surveillance cameras around her home so as he can watch her every move. Not in a gross way: he merely wants to learn everything about her so's he can woo her most effectively. It's quite romantic, when you stop to think about it. Like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. The problem with wooing a girl via hidden surveillance is that you get to hear her slagging you off to her mates. It's why Mel Gibson turned into a crazy misogynist; hearing what women really thought of him in What Women Want (not to be called 'sugartits' is a good start). Surprisingly, neither her or her friends ever say "you know, that Colin looks a bit like Forrest Gump." I overheard someone say "that's Joel. He always tucks his t-shirt into his trousers" once. I was fucking heartbroken. Cthulu knows how I would have reacted if I'd heard them say I have sweaty hands. In that respect, Doug shows an awful lot of restraint.

The intrusive but dispassionate gaze of the camera is contrasted wonderfully with creepy Colin's slimy behaviour. Amy is a sympathetic protagonist, even if her choice in male company does leave something to be desired. The idea behind it is an insidious one, effortlessly scary and creating a great atmosphere and boiling tension. The story is seen through the lens' of Doug's cameras, but its presentation feels more natural and less gimmicky than most found footage horror films. The climax delivers an insufficient payoff to an otherwise impressive structure, but then, there are only so many ways a story like this can go. Alone With Her reminded me of The Collector (not that one) crossed with the more recent The Resident.

Alone With Her is a chilling, tense psycho thriller centered around a great set of performances from its leading duo. Not bad for £1.

Memory Lane

Director: Shawn Holmes (2011)

Starring: Michael Guy Allen, Meg Barrick, Julian Curi

Find it: IMDB, Horrortalk.com

It's a low budget version of The Butterfly Effect crossed with Flatliners crossed with that bit of Constantine where Keanu Reeves drownes Rachel Weisz in a bathtub. Ex-soldier Nick (Allen) vows to avenge the death of girlfriend Kayla (Barrick) when he finds her dead. Also in a bathtub. Bathtubs are very important to Memory Lane. Costing a mere $300 to make, Memory Lane is as independent as cinema gets - but is far better than that low budget might suggest.

Returning home from the wars, soldier Nick meets and falls for Kayla, who handcuffs herself to him and steals his car the next day. Faced with such a catch, Nick is instantly smitten, and asks her to marry him, despite not even knowing her surname. Heartbreak and even more confusion is in store when Nick finds her dead in the bath, wrists slashed. When he attempts to take his own life as a result (again, in the bath) Nick visits a magical memory afterlife where he can relive past encounters with dear dead Kayla. There he learns that her death might not have been as self-inflicted as one would think. Upon his friends finding and resuscitating his lifeless body, Nick vows to piece together the clues and solve the mystery of Kayla's death. The problem being that he needs to repeatedly die in order to do so.

With a little help from his friends, Nick builds a bathtub TARDIS which he uses to kill himself. Again. And again. And again. And again, revisiting past events to look for signs he might not have noticed before. Can he piece together the clues to find Kayla's killer before he kills himself one time too many? Surely the after-effects of repeatedly stopping one's own heart can't be too pleasant. That recurring nosebleed would suggest as much. If we learned nothing else from The Butterfly Effect, it's that screwing around in one's own memories causes a nasty hangover. In Ashton Kutcher's case; that bit where all his arms and legs got blown up and he married Demi Moore.

For a movie that cost $300 to make, Memory Lane is nothing short of astonishing. It surpasses the limitations of its (ultra) low budget with good old fashioned writing and storytelling. It's a bit on the melodramatic side and the acting won't win any Oscars, but the story is gripping and the pace taut. Unlike most low budget thrillers, Memory Lane has ambition and heart - and times, more than the very moves which inspired it. It's refreshing to see an independent movie that's not about zombies or serial killers.

Memory Lane puts paid to the argument that a movie needs a large budget and expensive special effects in order to succeed. This is one Lane well worth visiting.

Edmond

Director: Stuart Gordon (2009)

Starring: William H Macy, Mena Suvari, Julia Stiles, Jeffrey Combs

Find it: IMDB

I recently lost my job. It wasn't my fault; Birmingham City council closed down the shopping centre where I work and hoofed the lot of us out unceremoniously. But it's fine - I hated that job and everything about it except for one or two of my colleagues (the ones I really hated being a fat racist Viking and a closeted paedophile who talked about rape all the time). Actually, I'll exit the parenthesis for now, because I'd like to share a couple of stories about those two particular characters. The Racist Viking didn't believe in black Welshmen and had some very interesting ideas concerning hospital cleanliness.

"Ban all of the Asians."

"Pardon?"

"Their beards are unhygienic. Shouldn't be allowed in hospitals."

Indeed. But he was an imbecile. His racism was just another aspect of that. He thought that Night Of The Living Dead was directed by a man called Johnny Ramirez and finds Family Guy funny. I rest my case. The rapist slash paedophile once had this conversation with me:

"If you had a time machine..." he started.

"Oho," I looked up, sensing a nice game of hypothetics.

"And could go back to any period in time..."

"Go on..."

"...who would you rape?"

"Pardon??"

"You'd never get caught. Ever. Who, me? Officer, I wasn't even born at the time. I think my choice would be Marilyn Monroe." Then he made a high pitched noise that sounded a little like 'eee-eeee' and went back to picking his armpits. The rapist slash paedophile also finds Family Guy funny. Just sayin'.

And that's why I was glad to leave that particular workplace. Also, they paid me a ridiculously large amount of money to go. I was effectively being paid to leave a job I loathed anyway. During my redundancy, I watched Stuart Gordon's Edmond for the first time. Watching Edmond, I was even more glad to be going, since I could really see where that cat is coming from. Except for the murders. William H Macy is Edmond, a middle-aged professional facing the mother of all midlife crises. Rather than buy a flashy car or leather jacket, he leaves his wife (Rebecca Pidgeon) and sets about unravelling all over the streets of New York, really annoying everyone he meets along the way.

Edmond is Falling Down remade for a new generation. Where Michael Douglas was aggressive and angry all over the place, William H Macy is confused, scared and doesn't understand the world in which he lives. Wandering through New York, he encounters a series of equally lost and confused characters, all played by very interesting actors and actresses. I'd never been a fan of Mena Suvari until I saw Gordon's Stuck, but she's good in this too - playing a prostitute with whom Edmond hilariously attempts to barter. Julia Stiles pops up as a waitress enchanted by Edmond's odd brand of soul-searching, and there's even a lovely cameo from Gordon regular Jeffrey Combs.

Edmond isn't a horror movie or even a thriller in the traditional sense, but Gordon has constructed a grotesque, seedy underworld in New York city and a confused, Lovecraftian protagonist from Macy's Edmond. Neither hero nor villain, Edmond does some truly terrible things in his movie, but by virtue of being played by William H Macy, he's impossible to hate.

Edmond is a fine movie, balancing existential angst with the pace of a thriller and the tone of a horror movie, all wrapped around a great lead performance from Mr. Macy. It ends surprisingly sweetly, offering hope in the same breath as sodomy. Edmond is dark, terrifying, hilarious and makes me super glad that I was kicked out of left my job when I did.

The Caller

Director: Matthew Parkhill (2011)

Starring: Rachelle Lefevre, Stephen Moyer, Luis Guzman, Lorna Raver

Find it: IMDB, Amazon

A psycho-stalker thriller with a twist this, in that The Caller has its persecuted protagonist stalked via the telephone, courtesy of a woman living in the past. It's like that Dennis Quaid movie if Dennis Quaid had gone around threatening to make people not exist. But like every hottie worth her salt, Mary (Lefevre) has a number of people staking out her flat. There's an abusive ex-husband and a burgeoning romance with hunky Stephen Moyer from off'a True Blood. I suppose he beats the usual class of vampire she's been known to hang about with, although I didn't realise how short Stephen Moyer was until now. Also, Luis Guzman does his nice-but-dim routine as a genial gardener.

Moving into her new apartment building after a messy breakup, Mary is perturbed when her landline refuses to stop ringing. She's even more confused when the person at the other end of the line claims to be Rose, literally living in the past. Initially, Mary plays along. But when she tries to break off contact with clingy Rose, things get a bit sinister. See, this is why I never answer my landline. It only ever seems to be cold-callers or a whingeing grandparent. Rose is the ultimate nuisance call. Even her voice is a pain in the ass.

The concept is very well done here, especially the scenes in which Mary is physically attacked by Rose, despite not even living in the same century as her antagonist. There's a real sense of threat to the later scenes, and a disturbing moment or two buried beneath all the melodrama. It's a fun movie, well-acted by all involved and directed in a cracking manner by Matthew Parkhill. It's quick paced with a good line in tension, thrills and spills. This Caller is one I'm very glad I picked up.

5150 Elm's Way

Director: Eric Tessier (2009)

Starring: Marc-Andre Grondin, Normand D'Armour, Sonia Vachon

Find it: IMDB, Amazon

A bit of French kitchen sink horror, this, with an emphasis on chess and mindgames. 5150 Elm's Way plays like Mum & Dad meets Dexter with a bit of The Hamiltons thrown in to boot. Cycling around looking like Justin Long, film student Yannick (Grondin) falls face first off his bike and limps over to a neighboring house in search of help. He meets taxi driver Jacques (D'Amour) who appears initially friendly but then kidnaps the poor kid and locks him away in a dingy room. After several kerfuffles and the usual false escape then recapture malarky, Jacques presents Yannick with a proposition: beat him at chess, go free. Game on.

Elements of 5150 Elm's Way feel way too familiar and predictable. Yannick makes a number of breaks for freedom over the course of the film, and every time I knew he would fail. Every times he takes up arms to fight Jacques and his family, there's a feeling that you know he's doomed to fall. Spoiler by the way. But then there are elements of originality that make this interesting and well worth one's time. I never thought that a series of chess matches could be taut and thrilling and tense but director Eric Tessier pulls it off. Writer Patrick Senecal's script makes the chess matches account for something - like there's really something at stake - well assisted by the director and the film's two leads.

Those stakes keep rising, the tension building. As Jacques unveils his custom-made chess set, his mind begins to unravel. Yannick too, looks to be losing his mind. There are trippy hallucinations to go with all the chess and some genuine shocks in the final act. Not being your typical bit of Hollywood dross, it even has subtexts and things. Jacques becomes something of a surrogate father to Yannick, albeit in the worst way. Partnered with Jacques's wonderful moustache, this makes it well worth one's time. 5150 Elm's Way is a clever, tight bit of Gallic horror that might skimp on the gore but certainly doesn't do so with its thrills. Check and mate.

The Resident

Director: Antti Jokinen (2011)

Starring: Hilary Swank, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Christopher Lee, Iphone

Find it: IMDB, Amazon

A slick, sleazy but slow psycho-thriller from Hammer this, with Jeffrey Dean Morgan in fine form as Hilary Swank's suave but psycho landlord. On the rebound, Juliet (Swank) moves into a seemingly idyllic apartment (Swanky, even. GEDDIT) owned by Max (Morgan). Not following that rule about never pooping where you eat, she wastes no time in hooking up with the hunky homeowner. But realising that her heart lies with ex-fella Jack (Lee Pace), she stops short of intercourse. Already a little bit stalker, this drives Max over the edge. Truly unsettling sleaziness ensues.

The Resident is an alarmingly pervy movie, the kind of thing you'd normally expect from RapeLay. The whole thing is essentially just Jeffery Dean Morgan terrorising Hilary Swank, mostly without her knowledge. So he hides behind her walls and under her bed, watching her as she bathes and licking her fingers whilst she sleeps. He injects drugs into her feet and uses her toothbrush. Then he goes and has a Hilary Swank in her bathtub.

Because hot people can be stalkers too.

All I know is, after watching The Resident, I really wanted to buy an Iphone. Hilary Swank's Iphone is in this movie more than Christopher Lee. And when her Iphone isn't around, then the movie makes a plot point of her Apple computer. The Resident is for Apple products what I Robot was for Audi. Christopher Lee, by the way, injects little class but plays the same decrepid old man character he's been playing for the past few years now. But in this movie he has a trendy haircut. It's a nice touch, but not really enough to save the film from mediocrity.

Although if Twilight is to be believed, girls like being molested as they sleep.

It's very well directed, wringing tension from the stalking scenes and thrills from the showdown, bringing to mind the very underrated Pacific Heights. Hilary Swank and Jeffrey Dean Morgan are both very good as victim and villain, respectively. It's always refreshing when a movie's Scream Queen can actually act. But there's the overriding feeling that The Resident is coasting on its director's skills and its actors' charms. For all of its creepiness, it doesn't feel worthy of the Hammer brand. It's a direct to TV movie writ large, starring Christopher Lee and an Academy Award winner. Furthermore, it's fitfully boring and there's a completely unnecessary and extensive flashback sequence that serves only to spell out things we knew already.

The Resident is passable enough, but will probably make one think twice about seducing your landlord, moving into a house with Jeffery Dean Morgan or not buying an Iphone.

Blooded

Director: Edward Boase (2011)

Starring: Nick Ashton, Neil McDermott, Oliver Boot

Find it: IMDB, Amazon

So meta I had to have a lie down afterwards. Blooded is a documentary about the kidnapping and torment of five friends in the Scottish highlands. It employs the talking heads of the victims themselves as well as dramatised re-enactments of the events at hand. Except they're all actors and none of it ever happened. Since the film doesn't tell you this, you can pass Blooded off as a real documentary and use it to confuse stupid people. Mind you, the guy from Eastenders (McDermott) is in it, so be prepared to bullshit some more. "Oh yeah, didn't you know? This actually happened to him before he joined Eastenders."

Blooded tells the story of five friends holidaying in Scotland. They're there to shoot some deer, drink some booze and propose to their ladyfriends. Some pissed off anti-hunting activists have other ideas though. The friends are kidnapped from their beds and transported deep into the Scottish wilderness, barefoot and nearly naked. And then the hunt begins. Blooded is not a true story, but Morrissey (Morrissey Smith, not Maynard) wishes that it was.

Although he may not be too happy about how sympathetically the victims are painted here. Sure, they're a very pro-hunting lot (the movie is in reference to the aftermath of the UK fox hunting ban in 2002) but you're meant to root for their survival. The activists, meanwhile, are too faceless and angry for their voice to be heard. As Lucas (Ashton/McDermott) refuses to bow to vegetarian sanctimoniousness, you certainly won't be cheering on his captors. I'm no fan of fox hunting, but I'm even less of a fan of bollocks extremism. By turning Lucas and co into the victims, the activists' message becomes lost.

The film is presented very cleverly, but saps the story of its tension or thrills -a big problem when you're selling yourself as a thriller. Four of the five characters are talking in retrospect as interviewees - so we as an audience know that at least four out of five characters are going to survive their ordeal. There's an initial hoot to seeing them wake up almost naked in the freezing cold Scottish wilderness, but this dissipates rather quickly. Blooded very effectively mimics the feel of watching a documentary in that I was bored after half an hour.

Now if you'll excuse me, all that talk of hunting and Morrissey Smith has left me starving for some Kentucky Fried Shit.

Lakeview Terrace

What could be safer than living next to a cop?

Not living next to Samuel L Jackson, for one.

Director: Neil LaBute (2008)

Starring: Samuel L Jackson, Patrick Wilson, Kerry Washington

Find it: IMDB, Amazon

True story: I find Lakeview Terrace a difficult movie to watch. Not because it's shit or anything, but rather because it actually happened. To me. In the same way that Maniac Cop elicits shivers from me every time, so does Neil LaBute's Lakeview Terrace. In this heated thriller, an angry cop (Jackson) terrorises and victimises his new neighbours (Wilson and Washington) right up to a predictably explosive showdown at the end. Such things which actually happened include the cop having Wilson arrested and wrecking their hedge for the sake of it. They left out that bit where he blocked my Patrick Wilson's driveway with his car for two weeks, and I don't remember there being guns involved, but otherwise Lakeview Terrace is pretty true to what actually happened. Thanks a lot, Neil LaBute. What next, a movie adaptation of that one time I got dumped in Starbucks?

Because Neil LaBute likes his big themes, Lakeview Terrace isn't just about a cop being a prick to his neighbours. It's made clear that Jackson's character is a racist, just like he was in Die Hard With A Vengeance. Not only does he disapprove of his neighbours' interracial relationship, but he's none too keen on their penchant for walking around half-naked or doing fucks either. He begins to unravel, both at home and work. There's an effort to make his Officer Abel Turner seem rounded and conflicted, but he's pretty much just a cartoon menace.

For what it's worth, I could see where he's coming from. Not with the racism, but Patrick Wilson is a bit of a penis. I'd probably wreck Patrick Wilson's hedges too, should he ever end up living next door to me. Lakeview Terrace is reminiscent of The Fireman and that Simpsons episode with George Bush. It offers very few surprises and little in the way of originality. Disappointingly, there's not even Nicolas Cage dropkicking women in the face. Officer Abel's racism is an interesting subtext, but nowhere near enough to hold a whole movie. Eventually the smouldering tension and building aggression climaxes, but only in a wholly predictable way.

Lakeview Terrace is a diverting psychothriller, improved only by its lead performances and amusing melodrama. Like I said, I'd probably have enjoyed it more had I not been living next door to my own mini Officer Abel at the time. Fucker ruined my hedge.

The Disappearance Of Alice Creed

Director: J Blakeson (2009)

Starring: Gemma Arterton, Martin Compston, Eddie Marsan

Find it: IMDB, Amazon

Not horror, but thrilling, gripping and with enough ball gag action to make the Horror Review Hole cut. Proof that Gemma Arterton is more than just a pretty face. (Further) proof that Eddie Marsan is one of the most underrated actors in British film. Furthering the career of the ball gag as the gag du jour for Indie cinema. The Disappearance Of Alice Creed is a low-budget Brit thriller which sees Gemma Arterton playing a very different kind of bond girl, kidnapped and locked away in a smelly flat.

Both no things and lots of things happen over the course of the movie. The action is largely restrained (no pun intended) to one room and occasionally a toilet. Only three characters are seen throughout. In all honestly, Alice Creed doesn't need anything else. It's an incredibly tense, gripping and thrilling movie, packed full of twists and neat character moments. The main trio are all excellent, with Marsan and Compston managing to make horrible characters seem sympathetic if not likeable. Arterton, despite being tied to a bed with a gag in her mouth for most of the time, is great and manages to do a lot with very little. It can't have been an easy role, but she's brilliant in it - more than making up for dodgy turns in the likes of Prince Of Persia.

Gratuitous screencap , pandering to the Damsel In Distress fans who make up at least 20% of this site's readership*

It's difficult to talk about Alice Creed, since a lot of its power relies on its various twists and turns. It has its moments of predictability and runs out of steam occasionally, but these are very minor faults. Its UK cinema release was less than glorious, Predictable joke ->but one should try their very hardest to ensure Alice Creed makes her appearance in a DVD player near you ASAP <- Predictable joke.

* That probably includes myself**
** Yes, I'm arrogant enough to admit I'm a fan of my own site***
*** But only for the pictures of gratuitous bondage and Zooey Deschanel****
**** And you too can become a fan here

Triangle

Wherein the poster gives away the gist of the twist

Director: Christopher Smith (2009)

Starring: Melissa George, Michael Dorman, Henry Nixon

Find it online: IMDB, Amazon

Best described as like series 5 of LOST, only set on a boat. Triangle sees Melissa George and a handful of friends trapped on a deserted ship after their own little raft goes all Perfect Storm. Throw in a masked shotgun-wielding loon and some not-really-confusing timetravel shennanigans and you have Triangle in a nutshell. It's an engaging, twisty little thriller that only manages to be about half as clever as it thinks it is. It's also, apparently, directed by Christopher Smith of Severance and Creep fame, which came as a bit of a surprise. It's his most ambitious project to date and his most mature too. It's certainly better than Black Death, which in retrospect feels like a bit of a step backwards. Plus this movie stars Melissa George and I heart Melissa George.

Melissa George: good even in Home & Away (probably) and that John Milton adaptation

You're supposed to be asking questions about paradoxes and making with your best WTF face, but I was more distracted by Melissa George and her silly shoes. She runs around the boat as if she's just drunk a whole crate of Red Bull. Her hyperactive performance here puts the 'thrill' in thriller, and yet she does so whilst wearing an implausibly high pair of wedges. Her stupid shoes are even made a plot point later in the film.

But enough about Melissa George and her daft shoes. There are other people and footwear in this film. Everyone puts on a fine show, and Smith's direction is incredibly slick. It's no gorefest, but there are some good kill sequences and very inventive nightmarish style imagery at work. One particular scene - in which a dying character crawls onto a deck filled with dead copies of herself - is guaranteed to give you chills every time. There are plot holes and bits that don't make sense, and Melissa George learns how to use a gun far too fast, but Triangle is a snappy, effective little mindbender. It's best described as like series 5 of LOST, only set on a boat.

Triangle sees Melissa George and a handful of friends trapped on a deserted ship after their own little raft goes all Perfect Storm. Throw in a masked shotgun-wielding loon and some not-really-confusing timetravel shennanigans and you have Triangle in a nutshell. It's an engaging, twisty little thriller that only manages to be about half as clever as it thinks it is. It's also, apparently, directed by Christopher Smith of Severance and Creep fame, which came as a bit of a surprise. It's his most ambitious project to date and his most mature too. It's certainly better than Black Death, which in retrospect feels like a bit of a step backwards. Plus this movie stars Melissa George and I heart Melissa George.

Melissa George: good even in Home & Away (probably) and that John Milton adaptation

You're supposed to be asking questions about paradoxes and making with your best WTF face, but I was more distracted by Melissa George and her silly shoes. She runs around the boat as if she's just drunk a whole crate of Red Bull. Her hyperactive performance here puts the 'thrill' in thriller, and yet she does so whilst wearing an implausibly high pair of wedges. Her stupid shoes are even made a plot point later in the film.

But enough about Melissa George and her daft shoes. There are other people and footwear in this film. Everyone puts on a fine show, and Smith's direction is incredibly slick. It's no gorefest, but there are some good kill sequences and very inventive nightmarish style imagery at work. One particular scene - in which a dying character crawls onto a deck filled with dead copies of herself - is guaranteed to give you chills every time. There are plot holes and bits that don't make sense, and Melissa George learns how to use a gun far too fast, but Triangle is a snappy, effective little mindbender.

It's best described as like series 5 of LOST, only set on a boat. Sorry, that was fucking terrible. And will probably only ever make sense to those who have actually seen the movie already.

Cherry Tree Lane

Director: Paul Andrew Williams (2010)

Starring: Rachael Blake, Tom Butcher, Jumayn Hunter, Ashley Chin

Find it online: IMDB, Amazon

Like Waiting For Godot crossed with Eden Lake or Funny Games, Paul Andrew Williams' latest movie pits hoodies against suburbanites and thankfully perpetuates the director's spot-on batting average. His London To Brighton was a heartfelt, gripping drama that marked him as talent to watch. The Cottage, whilst annoying critics who felt it beneath his powers, was a superb mean little comedy-horror that (for scare fans at least) outshone his debut and delivered a jolly good backwoods horror to boot. Cherry Tree Lane is neither a heartfelt drama nor a comedy-horror. A sparse, sharp home invasion thriller, Cherry Tree Lane is as tense and thrilling as you could ask for. And not a jot of bullshitty reality rewinding remote controls or killers too smart for their own good.

Christine (Rachael Blake) and Mike (Tom Butcher) are a bickering, slightly annoying married couple found unsuspecting when vengeance-seeking hoodies barge into their home in search of son Sebastian. Sebastian being out at football practice, the yobs make short work of taping the couple up and acting all kinds of antisocial. No digestive biscuit is left unturned as the Kidulthood rejects eat their food, steal their duct tape, trash their rooms and mercilessly critique their DVD collection. It's a fairly thankless pair of roles for Blake and Butcher, who spend literally every scene after the ten minute mark very bound and gagged. Cherry Tree Lane is the Sun/Daily Mail reader's worst nightmare. And not just because it stars black actors and young people. With its feral yobs on a rampage, Cherry Tree Lane depicts a menace most modern; and one that most people can relate to. Who Can Kill A Child? You'll certainly want to after seeing Rian (Hunter) at his worst. True story fact fans: he was in Eden Lake too.

It's not a particularly likeable movie. Like Martyrs and the aforementioned Eden Lake, it's something to be endured rather than enjoyed. It's a hard watch, but one that fascinates as much as it revolts. Mind, it's not for everyone. Despite being better handled than it could've been, a rapey subplot feels like a step too far (so much so that one character comments on it as such) and the climax is both frustrating and a little predictable. The introduction of several other characters also feels a little excessive, although it does amp the action up a notch. But if you've the stomach to handle such things, Cherry Tree Lane is well worth a cheeky little viewing. Although be warned; it's plausible and horrible enough to give you palpatations next time your own doorbell rings.

Open House

Director: Andrew Paquin (2010)

Starring: Rachel Blanchard, Anna Paquin, Stephen Moyer, Tricia Helfer

Find it online: IMDB, Amazon UK, Amazon US

Featuring, for some reason, cameos frpom Rogue and her Vampire BF off've True Blood, Open House is a movie in which a pair of serial killers strike on a nice suburban love-nest, taking the lovely Alice (Blanchard) hostage as they do. Tricia Helfer looks anorexic in a bikini and Stephen Moyer doesn't drink any blood. Well, it sounds odd hearing him speak in anything but a Southern drawl now. Open House is like Funny Games except there's not as much tension and no-one is quite as annoying. So much so, that one half of its villainous duo wears a white polo shirt and speaks in an effete, very middle-class manner. Ugh, middle-class killers. Thanks, but I'll stick with my very working class Freddies, Jasons and Michaels (original Michael, ta - I said working class, not white trash Rob Zombie).

Like its killers, Open House is an effective if predictable and slightly dull psychothriller. There's very little at play other than a pair of serial killers and that girl off've Flight of the Conchords being menaced. Being quite the fan of Flight of the Conchords, I found this quite distracting. In fact, I had to pause the movie two or three times just to go youtube the videos in which she appears. Anyway. Tricia Helfer has some sort of job which involves her leaving the house and Camp Serial Killer Man is a writer. This allows him to spend his days - his Business Time*, if you will - torturing poor Rachel Blanchard and murdering her window cleaners. Open House is the sort of movie in which a lot of innocent bystanders get murdered for no other reason than to amp up the bodycount. It's neither noticably bad nor remarkably good. The acting is fine, especially from Blanchard (the most beautiful woman in any room*) but not enough around the board to make this rise above STD dross. Although it does give me an excuse to post this, which is always nice:

* If you get that reference, you are awesome and I love you.

Acolytes

Director: Jon Hewitt (2008)

Starring: Joshua Payne, Sebastian Gregory, Hanna Mangan-Lawrence

Find it online: IMDB, Amazon UK, Amazon US

Bullied schoolkids undergoing puberty discover a serial killer burying his dirty deeds in the woods. For reasons best known to themselves, the silly kiddiwinks decide to blackmail the killer into doing dastardly things for them. Namely, offing bully Gary Parker. Silly children. Their serial killer is less than thrilled with being blackmailed, and sets about hunting the brats down.

Like Deadgirl, this is a movie that deals with the difficult adolescent struggles of emotionally conflicted youths. Unlike Deadgirl, it's done with subtelty, maturity, intelligence and understanding. Whereas that previous film was high on gruesomeness but low on motivational believability (say what you like, but rape is NOT a standard response to zombification), Acolytes backs up its youths' nasty deeds by giving them plenty of motive for their actions.

Indeed, that buildup is slow at times but completely necessary. And once the game does get going properly, it doesn't let up until the end. The final 45 minutes or so have multiple plates spinning at once, efficiently working plenty of twists, action and neat character moments working like a tightly oiled machine. I've mixed my metaphors there, but Acolytes is worth it. It's an example of how a low budget need not detract from your movie. It even has not one but two great villains (perhaps more, depending on how you count them) going for it. As serial killer Ian Wright, Joel Edgerton is wonderfully cast, bringing a masterfully sinister moustache and sunglasses to the table. Bully Gary Parker is nicely slimy, more than making up for the spots of dodgy acting from the movie's leading trio.

(Predictable Ian Wright Joke)

Lesson learned, kids - don't fuck with serial killers. Especially not when they have moustaches and sunglasses as awesome as Ian Wright. And serial killers - dig your holes deeper. There's always a gaggle of idiot semi-psychopathic children on hand to dig that shit up.

Perfect Getaway

Director: David Twohy (2009)

Starring: Milla Jovovich, Steve Zahn, Timothy Olyphant, Kiele Sanchez

Find it online: IMDB, Amazon UK, Amazon US

Like Turistas, but with a twist, a better script and good characters. Perfect Getaway sees Steve Zahn on honeymoon with Milla Jovovich. If you can get over that daft idea, then you shouldn't have too much trouble with the movie's considerable second-half twists.

So Zahn and Jovovich wind up hiking to a remote beach (a bit like Lost, but no monsters and no Jackface) in Hawaii. Along the way, they meet up with Nick (Olyphant) and Gina (Sanchez). Travelling along, they also discover that there's a psychopath on the loose, murdering vacationing couples. Is the killer amongst their party? Or could it be the Natural Born Killers-esque hitch-hikers that follow our couples around acting all mean and surly, like??

Perfect Getaway is a delightfully odd movie. It's not a comedy/horror per-se, but there's a cutely humorous streak to the proceedings. All of the actors and actresses involved do a good job; Olyphant's character is a rather annoying dick (full of "bullshitty" stories, as Zahn's character puts it) and Zahn overplays things a tad, but it's all good fun. And hey, this is a movie that the ladies and non-hetero horror fans can enjoy too; it's filled with shots of Olyphant's ass and six-pack. Heck, I'd probably even tap that. By the look of it, Zahn's been hitting the gym pretty hard too. Did I mention Olyphant's ass??...

Shit, where was I????

Uh, Milla Jovovich and Kiele Sanchez bare enough naked flesh too. That'll keep the guys interested too. Yes, there's something here for everyone. Except for maybe people who don't like stupid twists and self-aware scripts.

Ayup, the funny script and intentional oddness can't quite carry off the movie's mid-point twist (to say there's a twist isn't really a spoiler; the script constantly leads you to expect one, which is kinda annoying). It tries, but Perfect Getaway never really recovers. The final half hour or so is as stupid as you can get. (want it spoiled? Then roll over, dear readers: Zahn and Jovovich turn out to be the killers). But if you can forgive this bit of silliness, then Perfect Getaway is a very worthwhile, entertaining little thriller. Outstanding.

Homecoming (or, Misery for the idiot generation)

Director: Morgan Freeman (not that one) 2009
Starring: Mischa Barton, Jessica Stroup, Matt Long

Find it online: IMDB

Inexplicable golden-boy quarterback Mike (Long) returns to his hometown for a Christmas break away from University, his new girlfriend Elizabeth (Stroup) in tow. Only his ex-girlfriend, Shelby (Barton) isn't too pleased, and makes said displeasure known by kidnapping Elizabeth. Cue silly ankle torture, non-menacing psychopathy and lots and lots of bland predictability.

The whole thing plays out like Misery by way of The OC. And I'm not just saying that because it stars Mischa Barton; it's because The Homecoming is a whiny, vapid little movie filled with whiny, vapid characters and terrible American rock. This movie is to Misery as Swimfan was to Fatal Attraction.

That's a lie, for a start.

As some whiny American rock plays over the credit sequence, you know what sort of movie you're in for straight away. There's not a single ugly person in Homecoming, and you'll expect Tom Welling to show up at any moment to save the day. The whole thing looks and feels like an overlong episode of Smallville/The OC/One Tree Hill/90210 (from where most of the cast has apparently been culled).

It's completely unconvincing in every respect. Mischa Barton is incapable of conveying the requisite menace for her 'character', let alone anything remotely resembling emotion. She's no Kathy Bates, that's for sure. Her voice is so fucking irritating that you'll wish you were deaf everytime she opens her stupid mouth. Jessica Stroup does fine, although she's not required to do anything other than look all doe-eyed and helpless. Matt Long is so bland I've forgotten him already. There's nothing to justify Shelby's stalkerish behaviour. Most of the characters are supposed to be university students; yet they're so unremittingly thick, you'll have a hard time believing that they've ever been even near a school in their entire lives.

Anybody who's ever watched, read or heard of Misery will find Homecoming dull and predictable. This is a scary movie for people who don't like to be scared; a thriller for those who don't like to be thrilled. And, because the target audience are unlikely to have ever watched Misery, Morgan Freeman (no... don't be silly) and his script'writers' are free to rip it off and water it down as much as they see fit. There's foot torture, but nothing even nearly as iconically wince-inducing as suffered by James Caan. Homecoming is so pussified that I was surprised to hear Shelby actually say "fuck".

On the flipside of the turd, the cast are nice to look at. There's no nudity, but Jessica Stroup does look nice in a tank-top. Oh, and there's a funny moment where she hits Shelby in the face with a bit of toilet. Also, the first thing you'd do when fleeing a psycho is take the time to pull on a goddamn jacket and slip into a pair of Ugg boots.

Homecoming, then, is a pointless, humourless, witless little movie that feels like it should be a remake of something else. Had this starred, say, Lindsay Lohan and had the good grace to embrace the tired concept, maybe there'd be a few kitsch laughs to be had. But there aren't. Watching Homecoming will teach you the true meaning of the word Misery.

The Stepfather (1987)

Director: Joseph Ruben (1987)

Starring: Terry O' Quinn, Stephanie Maine, Stephanie Maine Blake

Find it online: IMDB

Well, for all intents and purposes, I thought they did already remake The Stepfather. That one had Vince Vaughan and John Travolta in it. But this isn’t a review of that film. This isn’t even a review of the other one, starring Amber Heard and Nip Tuck from off’ve Nip Tuck. This is the original flick, which stars Terry O’ Quinn as the eponymous Stepfather.

Well this Stepfather automatically earns itself some cool points by having O’ Quinn in full-on badass mode. When we first meet him, he’s barely recognizable as John Locke of Lost fame. Fair enough, the film’s over twenty years old, but Locke has an impressive amount of face-fuzz going on here. If you watch the remake’s trailer, you’ll see that Nip Tuck sports a similar beard, only shit. Fool shoulda’ known he couldn’t hope to compare with the awesomeness of John Locke. But more importantly, he’s washing blood off his hands (not a metaphor) and looking evil into a mirror. He has a shave, changes into a dapper suit and wanders downstairs to where his dead family are lazing about. Whistling himself a merry little tune, Locke leaves the house and wanders on up the street.

Locke soon ingratiates himself with another family, becoming husband to a cute little MILF and stepfather to her equally cute daughter. He’s calling himself Jerry now, and tries to win his stepdaughter over with a puppy. Drugs or booze would probably be a better gift, since Stephanie is a bit of a rebel (cue classroom catfight) and gets herself expelled from school. This all clashes with Jerry’s 50s’ “happy family” sensibilities, and he sets about stabbing some sense into the girl…

Being evil and all, The Stepfather is an estate agent and keeps a basement full of power tools. He wears lots of tweed and is played by Terry O’ Quinn. It’s a good thing this is his movie, because he’s by far the best thing in it. He elevates it above TV-movie level, and it makes you glad he got to further his awesomeness in Lost (and you can often see shades of psycho in that series’ John Locke). It’s a multi-faceted performance, alternating between loving father/husband and stabby killer/psychopath. He's a bit overreactive, but then I suppose that's a psychopath's perrogative.

The building tension is nicely done. Watching Jerry unravel is a lot of fun. There’s not a lot of gore, but the few squirts and spurts of violence work pretty well, even if it is all a bit predictable. Likewise, the ending is by-the-numbers, but has a certain verve and charm to it.

And if it weren’t for its wonderful villain, one suspects that The Stepfather wouldn’t be a very good movie. Too much has been seen before in straight-to-DVD and made-for-TV movies. The Stepfather wants to be a Hitchcockian style psychological thriller, but the movie doesn’t provide us enough insight into Jerry’s mind or his motives – nor anyone else’s – for it to really work. And it's not really scary enough to work as a proper horror movie. Jerry’s unravelling has shades of The Shining – and O’ Quinn certainly does a great Jack Nicholson impression - but the scares are too familiar and too scarce. Watching this, you’ll realise that the remake will really need to amp things up (be it the gore, humour or scares) to validate itself. As it stands, one Stepfather is enough. It’s certainly not the most pointless movie ever to have been remade, but it still seems incredibly unnecessary.

Fans of 80s' psycho movies should definitely check The Stepfather out. There's lots of naff synth music, plenty of melodrama, and - undoubtedly best of all - Terry O' Quinn overacting like his life depends on it. The Stepfather is dirt cheap and easily available on DVD now, so you have no excuse if you haven't seen it before. And especially if the alternative is spending £6 on tickets to see the remake.

Donkey Punch

Director: Oliver Blackburn (2008)

Starring: Jaime Winstone, Nichola Burley, Tom Burke

Find it online: IMDB, Amazon UK, Amazon US

Donkey Punch: Donkey punching involves the male punching the sexual partner in the back of the head during anal or vaginal sex prior to orgasm, to provoke a shock causing the vaginal or anal muscles to contract around the male's penis. (Urban Dictionary)

Setting a precedent for a movie adaptation of a sexual practice (porno not withstanding), Donkey Punch AKA Open Water 3: Dopes on a Boat is proof that stupid chavs will always find a way to get themselves killed, wherever they may be.

A grotty little Brit thriller set on a luxury yacht, Donkey Punch has the sort of title that one might expect to see cockney hardman Ray Winstone headlining. As it stands, we get his daughter Jaime instead. Which is probably a good thing, since no-one wants to see Ray Winstone in a bikini. As anyone who saw last year’s Dead Set will know, Jaime is a different sort of Sexy Beast entirely (SEE WHAT I DID THERE).

Rewind a bit. Three chav-tastic young girls ship out to Mallorca, Spain for their holidays. Once there, they meet four lads who invite them to a private party on their slightly stolen luxury yacht. The yacht heads out to sea, drugs and alcohol are imbibed, and it all gets a bit porno. Accidents happen, and someone ends up dead. The group splits up into a battle of the sexes and mucho grisly violence and high-pitched screaming reigns supreme for the next hour or so.

Donkey Punch is a film of two halves. Like Hostel, the first half follows the kids as they get wasted, couple off and get laid. Like Hostel, it’s also a little bit boring and the protagonists come across as stupid, spoilt and annoying. There’s a sexy interlude (read: lots of nudity and shagging) and then the genre switches from Hollyoaks: after Dark to something more akin to The Hole, except more good.

And thankfully, that nasty stuff is worth the wait. Once the action kicks off, Donkey Punch is gruesome, inventive and even a little bit original. Kudos to the filmmakers, who manage to make the second half less predictable than it ought to be, and drawing a decent bit of tension from the kids’ predicament.

Whilst most of the characters are irritating as fuck, the young actors and actresses make it work. Jaime Winstone is duly excellent, as is lead girl Nichola Burley. Tom Burke is sleazy and horrible (think a younger, low-rent Tom Hardy) but there’s a nice bit of schadenfreude to his comeuppance, and he has the intensity to make the character engaging and funny. The rest of the kids do a fine job too, making Donkey Punch less horrible than your average spoilt-brats-in-peril flick.

4/5 screaming Scream Queens!!!