Director: Olivier Megaton

Starring: Liam Neeson, Maggie Grace, Famke Janssen, Rade Serbedzija

BRYAN – “If I kill you, your other sons will come and seek revenge?”
MURAD – “They will.”
BRYAN – “And I will kill them too.”

When the hero in an action movie ploughs his way through countless baddies, butchering and slaughtering them in the name of our entertainment (as well as whatever cockamamie reason the plot’s given him, of course), we never spare a thought for the families of the recently deceased.

After all, for every nameless terrorist, anonymous criminal and nondescript thug there’s a mother, a father and maybe even a wife and children somewhere mourning the death of a man who may have been a bit of a prick in real life but was always good to them at least. We’re usually never shown these devoted family members in films though, because it humanises the enemies and makes you feel sorry for them, when all you’re supposed to be thinking is “YES, chuck that fanny over the cliff”.

“There’s the prick who told me to change at Kennington”

This is the thinking behind Taken 2, which takes place a few months after the events of the first film. Naturally, in order for me to describe the plot you’re going to have to accept that there are a couple of very minor spoilers from the first film ahead (nothing that you couldn’t reasonably predict yourself though).

After Bryan Mills (Liam Neeson) killed a load of Albanians on the way to his kidnapped daughter in the first Taken, the families of the deceased receive the bodies and vow to get revenge on the man that, in their eyes, butchered a village’s worth of young men. Through the traditional Taken plot methods (i.e. absurdly unlikely coincidences) they find Bryan on holiday in Turkey with his ex-wife (Famke Janssen) and daughter Kim (Maggie Grace).

Kidnapping the daughter wouldn’t be very original – and after all, the last time someone tried that it resulted in a busload’s worth of bodies – so this time the families of the previous villains decide to go straight to the source and kidnap Bryan instead. Oh, and his ex-wife too, seeing as she’s in the area at the time.

“Don’t worry dad, I’m being sure to expose as much skin as is possible within the confines of a 15 rating”

It’s an interesting decision because it flips the tables around – instead of playing the helpless kidnapped daughter, this time Kim is the reluctant heroine, forced to find and rescue her parents in a country where she doesn’t speak the language and doesn’t understand the customs (all while wearing a conveniently skimpy bikini, jean shorts and open shirt combo, of course).

Mind you, she seems to adapt well, and before long she’s on the phone to her imprisoned dad, getting instructions on how to find him and wreck the bloody joint in the process. I lost count of how many grenades she throws and car crashes she causes while trying to find her old man, and before long my sympathies were split between Kim, her parents and the innocent people of Istanbul as their city is subject to countless explosions and road accidents.

Whereas the villains in the first film are undoubtedly pure evil and there’s no trace of conscience as you whoop at Liam Neeson while he stabs, shoots and electrocutes the nasty buggers, Taken 2‘s lead baddie (played well by Rade Serbedzija) does actually turn things around a little because you can at least understand his plight a little.

N Sync realised they were out of shape and needed more dance practice

His son was a bad bastard, of that there can be no doubt, but as he puts it he was always kind and loving to his family, and as such in his eyes, his innocent child was taken away from him and he wants Neeson to pay for it. He’s mistaken, of course, and his subsequent actions throughout the film are the perfect example of two wrongs not making a right, but you can at least understand his motivation for wanting to kill Neeson – he’s not simply being a prick for no apparent reason.

Taken 2 has a different feel to its predecessor and while it’s still a decent enough action film it’s not quite as compelling or exciting as the first film (though the final confrontation ends nicely). That said, I still look forward to the inevitable third Taken, where the people of Istanbul – infuriated at Kim throwing grenades around and smashing up their cars – get the US government to take her driver’s license and travel Visa away.

HOW CAN I SEE IT?
Brits can get Taken 2 on DVD, Blu-ray, a snazzy Blu-ray Steelbook or as part of a DVD box set or Blu-ray boxset along with the first film. Phew. It’s easier if you’re American because it’s DVD or Blu-ray only and that’s your lot. It’s also available to rent or download on Amazon Instant Video.

Director: Ben Affleck

Starring: Ben Affleck, Bryan Cranston, Alan Arkin, John Goodman

“Okay, you got six people hiding out in a town of what, four million people, all of whom chant “death to America” all the livelong day. You want to set up a movie in a week. You want to lie to Hollywood, a town where everybody lies for a living.

Then you’re gonna sneak 007 over here into a country that wants CIA blood on their breakfast cereal, and you’re gonna walk the Brady Bunch out of the most watched city in the world?” (Lester, Argo)

Regular readers of this site will have gathered by now that I don’t often go for the heavier stuff. Life’s serious enough as it is without having even more terorrism, war and courtroom drama thrust in your eyeholes, so that’s why I’m generally more Motel Hell than Hotel Rwanda when it comes to film taste. Still, I do appreciate a good film no matter what genre, so when Argo gathered a lot of attention at the Oscars I thought “Ar, go on then” (sorry).

“Well, it’s a bit too late to learn the script now because we’re actually shooting the film at this moment.”

It’s based on the real-life story of the ‘Canadian caper’, an extraordinary event in which a man was sent into Iran and tasked with getting six American diplomats back to the US while an anti-American revolution was ensuing in the background.

You see, years prior America had been backing Mohammad Reza, an Iranian shah (king) who had made life miserable for Iranians for many years. When the Iranians revolted the shah fled and America allowed him to travel there for medical treatment. Iran wanted him back so the entire country could kick the living pish out of him, but the US refused, so the Iranian people went apeshit, started massive street protests and stormed the US embassy, taking 52 of its workers hostage as they tried to destroy any incriminating files.

Six workers escaped unnoticed, though, and sought refuge in the Canadian embassy building (in real life they actually stayed at the British embassy too, but that was omitted from this film). While the Canadian ambassador kept them hidden in his house, he and the CIA (though mainly the CIA, according to this film – more on that later) came up with a plan to get them back to the States undetected.

The Bittersweet Symphony flashmob had attracted too many volunteers

The plan was Argo, a fake science fiction movie set up by the CIA to act as cover. After hosting a fake press event and posting fake ads for it in movie magazine Variety (to create a convincing alibi should anyone be questioned), CIA operative Tony Mendez (Affleck) was sent to Iran to find the Canadian embassy and tell the six what was going on. The story was that all seven would pose as Argo’s film crew, on a location scouting exercise to see if it was worth shooting in Iran (so to speak).

Mind you, as the film shows, there are just a few problems with this plan. The first is that in order to prove they were location scouting, the group actually need to go out into Iran’s busiest marketplace and walk around, taking photos, without being spotted or causing an incident. The second is that if they manage this and get to the airport, they’re likely to be heavily grilled so their story needs to be watertight.

The office screening of Jersey Girl didn’t go down too well

Finally, the Iranians have set up a sweatshop to put together the shredded papers found at the US embassy, and they’ve started working on the documents that contain the staff’s names and photos. Before long, the missing six’s faces are going to be known to the Iranian police, making a return to America impossible. And you thought flying with Easyjet was a nightmare.

It could be argued that at two hours in length, Argo is technically an hour and a half too long. I’ve essentially just told you the whole story, all that remains is to see whether they get through the marketplace and the airport without incident and that’s the film done and dusted, so in theory it could have been crammed into a short half-hour TV drama. In doing so though, it would have lost a lot of what makes it so outstanding, primarily its tension.

Ben Affleck’s name alone has been a running joke among ‘knowing’ filmgoers (partly fuelled by the Team America song explaining in no uncertain terms why he’s terrible) but I’ve always liked him, and Argo shows he knows what he’s doing behind the camera as well as in front of it. Every shot is meaningful, every nervous glance tells a thousand words, and every anxious moment of suspense builds the tension ever tighter until the whole bloody thing’s about ready to burst.

“Of course I packed my own case, if someone else had done it for me the bomb might have gone o-AH GOOD ONE MATE”

During the final twenty minutes I was dangerously close to breaking into a sweat, something that’s never happened to me while I’ve watched a film (although The Sexbendables came close*).

All the cast are flawless, to a man (or woman). Affleck is eminently likeable as Mendez (though my obvious man-crush on him may sway my opinion somewhat), John Goodman and Alan Alda are hilarious as the Hollywood producers who help with the fake movie, Bryan Cranston is brilliant as Mendez’s supervisor, and the six actors playing the would-be escapees are believable as a terrified group, uncertain if this ridiculous plan will work. They also look remarkably similar to the real-life  group of six, as evidenced during the end credits where the real-life and movie characters are shown side-by-side.

“I don’t care who picked Jersey Girl, all I’m saying is that next time I’m picking the fucking movie”

The only real niggle I have with Argo is something I didn’t even know until I read up more about the actual incident after watching the movie. While the film seems to make out that the plan is essentially the brainchild of the CIA, in reality – as then-president Jimmy Carter has since said in an interview – it was more the case that Ambassador Taylor at the Canadian embassy in Iran was responsible for 90% of the operation.

Changing history to make things seem a little more “America, fuck yeah” is a sneaky move (as does one that paints Iran in a very negative picture), even in a film that opens the country up to criticism at the start.

Its tinkering with the facts aside, Argo is a breathtaking film filled with enough tension that by the end of it you’ll be too scared to go to the shops in case you’re ID’ed for beer and end up cracking. Go see now.

*Disclaimer: The Sexbendables is not a real film, though with every day that passes I wish a little more that it was.

HOW CAN I SEE IT?
Argo was released a couple of months ago. UK peeps, here’s the DVD and the Blu-ray. If you’re American and don’t mind pretending the Canadians didn’t help, here’s the Blu-ray and the DVD. It’s too new to appear on LoveFilm or Netflix, but Americans can stream it from Amazon Instant Video here.

Director: Pierre Morel

Starring: Liam Neeson, Leland Orser, Famke Janssen, Maggie Grace

“I don’t know who you are. I don’t know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don’t have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills, skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you.

If you let my daughter go now, that’ll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don’t, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you.” (Bryan Mills, Taken)

Taken is one of those films that chooses to be completely ridiculous from start to finish, has absurd levels of action, packs plenty of unrealistic coincidences throughout its plot, leaves umpteen gaping plot holes in its wake, then flicks you a folded piece of paper and tells you that it contains information on the number of fucks it gives. Then, when it drives off on its flaming motorbike, you unfold the paper and look inside. It’s blank.

Liam Neeson plays Bryan Mills, a retired CIA agent who’s given up everything he had to move near his daughter Kim, who lives with his ex-partner (played by Famke Janssen). Since he cares for his daughter so much, he’s overly protective of her and as such is concerned when she asks him if she can go on holiday with her friend. Mind you, it’s understandable – she’s only 17 (even though she looks older… mainly because she’s played by a 25-year-old).

Get used to this picture, you’ll see it a hell of a lot

It turns out his suspicions were spot on when, during a phone call to him, Kim is abducted from her French rental apartment by a bunch of Albanians who have dodgy plans for her… I won’t ruin the specifics but needless to say they’re probably fortunate she’s actually 25.

It’s here where things start to get ever-so-slightly unrealistic, as Bryan sends the recording of the phone call to his CIA buddies and finds out the exact region the kidnappers come from. He then heads to Paris to find them, and despite the city having a population of over two million people he finds a lead almost instantly.

The rest of the film consists of Mr. Neeson working through the speediest investigation in film history, effortlessly kicking lumps of shite out of countless bad guys and ne’er-do-wells along the way, racking up a higher body count than a mannequin factory in the process.

“Dad, in case they take me away there’s something I need to tell you… I’m 25, not 17″

There’s also a rubbish sub-plot with a wet blanket of a French detective (played by Leland Orser) who looks like a third-rate Kevin Spacey and keeps trying to catch Bryan, even though he knew him back in the day and knows what he’s capable of. But that’s really just been added to extend the running time a little – all this film is clearly about is Liam Neeson tearing shit up.

Taken is a mindless action movie, but it doesn’t promise to be anything else. Sometimes all you want to do is switch your brain off and watch an Irishman plough his way through a bunch of Albanians in France, and Taken scratches that oddly specific itch perfectly. The baddies are so nasty that every broken neck, shot chest and electrocuted pair of thighs (yes, really) is justified, so it’s actually quite the feel-good romp. And naturally, it all ends well… at least, until Taken 2.

HOW CAN I SEE IT?
Taken is available on both DVD and Blu-ray in the US, and DVD and Blu-ray in the UK too, which is nice. The UK also has a DVD double pack with Taken and Taken 2. It’s not available for streaming at the moment.

Director: Carl Monson

Starring: Buck Kartalian, Lynn Lundgren, a load of other people shagging

HENRY – “Well, that’s murder or something!”
EVE – “Never heard of a plant getting arrested, have you?”

Henry Fudd (which is an even more appropriate name in Scotland) is a weird bastard. He spends his lunch break spying on couples having sex, then after work he goes back home, where he lives with his possessive mother, and locks himself in his room, the walls of which are covered with pages of porno magazines. Oh, and he has a plant called Eve that eats people.

Please Don’t Eat My Mother is essentially a low-budget rip-off of Little Shop Of Horrors, only (as it’s produced by “Sexploitation King” Harry Novak) with more porn and less quality. Eve starts off as a tiny sapling that Henry feeds normal plant food, but before too long she’s grown dramatically and adopted a sexy woman’s voice. The plant asks Henry to bring him increasingly larger food, starting with flies and upgrading to frogs, dogs and eventually people, including – you guessed it – Henry’s mother.

“C’mere baby and plant one on me. Get it?! PLANT! Because you’re a… let me just unzip these jeans”

It’s a story that might have been more interesting had it been handled better (of course, it already had), but Please Don’t Eat My Mother is a bucket of pish. Buck Kartalian is a bizarre actor to watch – it’s clear the film is supposed to be a cheesy comedy he makes some truly odd facial expressions, chewing the scenery… literally, at times.

The ‘special effects’ (and I mean special in a different way than usual) are the sort of thing you’d expect to see in a school play. The plant looks like a ridiculous papier-mâché creation and its movement is so limited (its mouth moves and that’s it) that it always eats its victims off-camera (complete with over-the-top slurping sound effects and unconvincing whimpers from the victim).

Distractingly, it also seems to think it’s a porno too. There are constantly people shagging in this film for seemingly no reason, and it goes surprisingly far too (you see a half-hearted hand-job at one point). It contributes nothing to the plot whatsoever, meaning we have to keep seeing shots of Henry watching them every ten seconds, gurning and grinning like a five-year old watching Iron Man.

“What am I doing back here? You told me that cloth had chlorophyll on it, not chloroform!” (little biology joke there)

Ultimately, this is the worst thing about Please Don’t Eat My Mother. It tries to be a number of different types of movie and essentially fails on all counts. When it’s trying to be a comedy it suffers by not actually being very funny. When it’s trying to be a horror film it suffers because it’s not scary in the slightest. And when it’s trying to be a porno it doesn’t actually show the stuff you’d expect to see in a porno, and it keeps cutting to an imbecile acting like a pervert so anyone looking for that sort of thing will be disappointed too (I’d imagine).

This is sadly another case of a low-budget film that doesn’t live up to its brilliant title. Whatever you do, don’t pay money to see it, because unlike its plant monster and some of the sans-clothes “actresses” who star in it, you’ll find it hard to swallow.

HOW CAN I SEE IT?
Please Don’t Eat My Mother is only available in the UK as part of The Harry Novak Collection Vol 3 along with The Pigkeeper’s Daughter and The Sinful Dwarf (that guy knew how to name a film). In the US it’s on DVD courtesy of Something Weird Video, who have packed the disc with trailers and other short films as they usually do.

No work and all decay makes this a dull choice

I recently spent a couple of nights at the Swallow Hotel in Gateshead as part of a stag weekend. From Friday to Sunday I was witness to degradation, filth and shame… and the stag weekend was pretty dodgy too.

Upon arrival at the hotel we were checked in by an elderly lady who, while kind, was clearly jaded after years of stag groups passing through her reception area and acting like raucous ne’er-do-wells. After she gingerly handed me my room key (room 602, if you’re asking), I embarked on my Swallow adventure, starting with the dodgiest elevators in England.

This definitely wasn’t a recent photo.

The Swallow has two lifts, with buttons that give you an electric shock when you press them. One has doors that open so slowly it feels like the scene where the aliens emerge from their ship in Close Encounters Of The Third Kind every time you get out. The other whips the doors open with gusto, but feels like a yacht in a storm as it moves between floors, leading to a constant fear that it’ll break down, trapping you in the Swallow’s aging shaft for eternity.

Once I got to my room the Swallow’s “quirks” continued to introduce themselves. The large CRT television was missing the remote control (assuming it had one). “No problem,” I decided, “I’ll just control it using the buttons on the TV itself. Unfortunately, the buttons had been removed, leaving just holes where they should have been.

For what it’s worth, my friends – who were staying in different rooms – later informed me that their TVs were working but they weren’t much cop. One produced a picture that was tinted green, another produced a picture that was tinted purple. Perhaps the Swallow’s vision is that stag parties could merge their televisions together like Captain Planet and form the greatest quality image known to man. With my missing remote and buttons, however, this was a vision that could never be realised.

The bathroom provided one towel for a twin room. Not being a fan of the “I’ll use one side, you use the other” technique I asked reception for a second towel which, to their credit, they promptly provided. They unfortunately couldn’t also provide me with a face mask and some Polyfilla so I could repair the massive crack on the bathroom ceiling, but beggars can’t be choosers. The toilet paper, meanwhile, was so hard and sharp that were Freddy Krueger to stay at the Swallow I have no doubt he’d opt to wipe with his bladed glove instead for a more comfortable experience.

On the Friday night, after returning from a night out, I decided to try out the Swallow’s internet facilities. There’s no Wi-Fi in the rooms, instead the website promised broadband internet in every room. The socket in the room instructed guests to ask for a broadband cable from reception, which I duly did. The chap at reception nervously handed me a cable, advising that “it can be a bit temperamental, though”. It seems “temperamental” is Gateshead slang for “as dead as King Oscar II of Sweden” (he’s dead), because when I plugged it into my computer it was like a Luis Suarez penalty claim – no connection at all.

There’s no fucking way it looks this nice

I struggled to sleep because the bed was incredibly uncomfortable. I felt a bit like the lass from The Princess And The Pea, if the princess had been replaced with a Scotsman and the pea had been replaced with a bunch of large, prominent springs.

Every morning when I woke up I look outside and saw that it had been snowing heavily. This was fitting, as the hotel was so rundown I was beginning to feel I was in a low-budget Channel 5 remake of The Shining. In fairness, there wasn’t a rotting, decaying old woman in the bath, but considering I was missing a TV remote and a towel the staff probably just forgot to put her there too. Thankfully I didn’t see a sea of blood pouring out the elevators either, though had that happened I would have stood in front of the one with the gammy doors because it would only have trickled out.

There were a couple of things I have to commend the Swallow for. Breakfast was adequate and not as bad as the other horror stories on TripAdvisor would suggest and while I always had the underlying suspicion the chef may have been a ghost I still enjoyed my eggs, sausage, beans and mushrooms (though the bacon was saltier than a pantomime dame).

I also have to commend them for only charging 70p for drinks in their vending machine, though as said vending machine only offered obscure drinks like Vimto and Cherry Tango I also have to revoke that commendation.

The Swallow Hotel is clearly rundown and in need of repair, and I understand it’s in administration so it’s difficult to see how that can be improved on. It is incredibly cheap, and it does at least put a roof over your head (for now, until the roof goes missing), but it really is nothing more than a tiny step up from a hostel. The one from the film, I mean.

I did manage to find out why it was called the Swallow, though, because every time I told the taxi driver to take me there I could hear an audible gulp.

If you enjoyed this and want to read about my other experiences in real-life mental places, here are my travel blogs on Popeye Village in Malta and Movieland Wax Museum in Niagara Falls.

Director: Sacha Gervasi

Starring: Anthony Hopkins, Helen Mirren, Scarlett Johansson, Danny Huston, Jessica Biel

“You may call me Hitch. Hold the Cock.” (Alfred Hitchcock, Hitchcock)

Films about Alfred Hithcock are just like buses – you wait ages for one and then two come at once (the other being The Girl, with Toby Jones and Sienna Miller). This particular bus is being driven by Anthony Hopkins with Helen Mirren as the conductor. Mind you, buses don’t have conductors any more. I don’t know what she does, then, but the fact is she’s on the bus anyway and she does a ruddy good job doing whatever it is she does. In hindsight, let’s just scrap this bus pish because I’m clearly in over my head.

Hitchcock recounts a particular point in the legendary director’s life. Having just finished North By Northwest and getting increasingly frustrated by the media’s portrayal of him, Hitchcock decides his next film is going to be a controversial film that pushes the boundaries of taste and decency – Psycho. Hitchcock, then, follows the events from Psycho‘s original conception right through to the film’s theatrical premiere.

“This is going to be the best episode of You’ve Been Framed ever”

Anthony Hopkins is impressive as Hitchcock. The make-up is interesting in that while he doesn’t look exactly like the man himself, the transformation is so radical you wouldn’t know it was Hopkins unless you were told. Of course, Hopkins can’t help how he looks, but he can help how he sounds and he manages a convincing Hitchcock impersonation throughout.

Despite the title however, this is really a film about Hitchcock’s wife Alma – played masterfully by Helen Mirren – as she struggles to cope with her husband’s obsession with his other love, his filmcareer. As Hitchcock gets more and more engrossed in the making of Psycho, Alma starts wondering if it’s really worth sticking by her husband’s side, and the newfound attention placed on her by screenwriter Whitfield Cook sees her faced with a difficult decision.

“Maybe I’m going crazy but I’d swear that large white wall is tailing me”

As well as the strength of the two leads, Hitchcock is also blessed with an impressive supporting cast. Scarlett Johansson is immensely likeable as Janet Leigh, while James D’Arcy plays a perfect Anthony Perkins.

The film recreates many of the famous stories surrounding the Psycho shoot – the way Hitchcock took over from Perkins during the shower scene, his odd proposal to an unconvinced Paramount to get the film green-lit  the fact that he didn’t like the famous Bernard Hermann music during the shower scene but his wife insisted – it’s all in here.

Only one aspect of Hitchcock had me scratching my head – the Ed Gein sub-plot. It’s well known that Psycho was based on the real-life story of mass murderer Ed Gein (as was The Texas Chain Saw Massacre), but Hitchcock takes it one step further by implying the ghost of Gein was haunting Hitchcock and appearing in hallucinations during the course of the filming. It’s all very silly and feels a bit jarring given that the rest of the film is supposed to be based on true events.

This lad’s very convincing as Anthony Perkins. Well played, son

That aside, Hitchcock is a must-see for anyone interested in the legendary director or the making of his most famous film. With fantastic performances throughout and a clever script that will cause more than a few wry chuckles, it’s well worth a watch. Just bear in mind as you watch it that, as far as I’m aware, Ed Gein’s ghost wasn’t actually involved in the production.

HOW CAN I SEE IT?
Hitchcock has been and gone in US cinemas, but it’s currently enjoying a theatrical run in the UK.

Director: Jaume Collet-Serra

Starring: Elisha Cuthbert, Chad Michael Murray, Brian Van Holt, Paris Hilton

“It is wax. Like, literally.” (Wade, House Of Wax)

I’ve had my own experiences with real-life atrocious wax museums in my life – the Movieland museum in Niagara Falls springs to mind – but at least I wasn’t turned into a wax model while I was there. Mind you, I’d have probably made for a more accurate Mr T than the one that featured there.

The original House Of Wax (1953) was a cracking, eerie film about an insane waxwork artist (played by Vincent Price) who turned real people into wax models. That concept – humans as wax models – is the only thing other than the title to remain in this remake. What’s been learned in the ways of suspense and film-making in the 52 years between each film? Not much, it seems.

I’m sure you can make up your own joke here about Paris Hilton getting a big rod shoved through her

The 2005 version of House Of Wax starts off, as so many generic teen horror films do these days, with a bunch of annoying students on a road trip. This time they’re heading to “the biggest football game of the year” (because presumably “The Superbowl” was trademarked) and decide it’s best to cut through the countryside roads to get there. As night draws near, they decide to camp out in the middle of nowhere.

Except it’s not quite the middle of nowhere because there’s an odd town nearby with a waxwork museum as its main highlight. When the group wake up the next morning and find the one of their two cars has been sabotaged they split up – some of them take the working car to the football game, the others stay behind to try and fix the car, ultimately finding the creepy town and House Of Wax in the process.

It slowly dawned on Sue that the audience size at the X Factor live tour may have been artificially enhanced

Cue the appearance of a pair of fucked-up twins (both played by Brian Van Holt) who have a habit of turning people into wax models. In fact, there’s something about the entire town that doesn’t quite feel right, but I’m wary of straying into spoiler territory so I’m not going to wax lyrical too much (WAX! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Look, shut up, I haven’t done this for a while).

House Of Wax provides an interesting mix of expected and surprising moments. It was expected that Paris Hilton would be about as good at acting as she is at finding a boyfriend who ensures what happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom, and she doesn’t disappoint with a performance about as thrilling as sitting a book in the window for six months and watching the sun fade the colours out of it. However, the level of gore is surprising given the MTV-gen audience Miss Hilton’s presence was clearly aimed at.

When Gilette said its new razor provided the closest shave yet, it wasn’t kidding

Fingers are cut off with pliers, someone’s decapitated, there’s a graphic neck-stabbing, a face is peeled off… you might be surprised by how graphic the film is at times, especially considering its BBFC 15 certificate. Fair play to the film-makers then for not being afraid to push the limits.

Hilton aside, the rest of the cast are adequate enough though it’s only really Cuthbert as the lead heroine and Van Holt as the twin villains who stand out as above average. Perhaps the most interesting character of all is the House Of Wax itself – it’s dripping (literally at times) with atmosphere.

House Of Wax is an adequate enough slasher and the final confrontation in the house is impressive, though with a runtime of nearly two hours it’s a tad too long. Only really a must-see if you desperately want to see Paris Hilton die a grisly and graphic death – which, to be fair, some people probably do.

HOW CAN I SEE IT?
House Of Wax isn’t available on any streaming service at the time of writing, so you’re going to have to go down the physical disc route. UK readers can get the DVD for a couple of quid here or, if it’s HD you’re after, you can get the Blu-ray here. Both include a few extras including an alternate intro with a nice face-smashing scene and some frothy behind-the-scenes shit about how they made the film with “very few optical effects” (supported – perhaps by a mischievous editor – with a before-and-after pic of a scene that’s almost entirely CGI). US readers can get the DVD here and the Blu-ray here.

Director: John Borman

Starring: Linda Blair, Richard Burton, Louise Fletcher, James Earl Jones

FATHER LAMONT – “I’ve flown this route before.”
HELICOPTER PILOT – “Oh yes?”
FATHER LAMONT – “Yes. It was on the wings of a demon.”

I’ve said plenty of times before that The Exorcist (and its subsequent Director’s Cut) is one of the greatest movies ever made. It’s terrifying, it’s spectacular, it’s faith-challenging and it’s supremely acted. In a way then Exorcist II: The Heretic is even more impressive, because it takes one of the finest films ever and follows it up with a sequel so brain-achingly bad it’s without doubt the biggest drop in quality in film sequel history.

Set four years after the events in Georgetown, 18-year-old Regan MacNeil (Linda Blair again) is now living in New York with her mum’s friend Sharon (Kitty Winn, also returning from the first film) while her mum is off making another movie. Regan claims she doesn’t remember any of the events of the first film, but she’s being monitored by a psychiatrist anyway. The psychiatrist, Dr Tuskin (Louise Fletcher) reckons Regan’s suppressing those memories and she wants to try hypnosis to free them.

This facial expression sums up Exorcist II better than any mere words can

Meanwhile, a priest called Father Lamont has been assigned by the Church to investigate the death of Father Merrin at the end of the first film, so he visits Regan to try to get answers. So far, so normal. But this is still only the first ten minutes or so. Then it gets bad.

It’s said that when Exorcist II had its premiere, the audience were fine with it until the “synchroniser” was introduced. At this point the audience burst into hysterical laughter and the film could never win back their respect. It’s little wonder why – it’s the exact moment all the accolades and reputation earned by The Exorcist are flushed down the toilet and the series turns into hokey sci-fi mumbo jumbo.

“Oh hello, I’m James Earl Jones. I’m a respected actor? This? Oh, this is just my locust costume”

You see, the “synchroniser” is a device Dr Tuskin owns for hypnosis. It’s a set of two headbands with diodes attached to them, each connected to a flashing light that emits a tone. When Regan and Father Lamont both wear these headbands and use their minds to make the tones sound the same, Father Lamont can read Regan’s mind and be a part of her dreams. Seriously.

Not weird enough yet? Then how about this – while using the synchroniser with Regan, Father Lamont’s mind is transported to 1930s Africa, where he learns of a boy called Kokumo who has the power to fight an evil demon called Pazuzu. Lamont realises that Regan was possessed by Pazuzu in the first film (not the Devil, then), and that he has to go to Africa to try to find the now adult Kokumo (James Earl Jones, dressed up in a giant locust costume – yes, really) to get advice on how to defeat it. Remember, this is the sequel to The Exorcist, one of the most revered and respected horror films ever.

“Hello Richard Burton. I thought you were supposed to be a respected actor too.” “Shut the fuck up, Linda”

The whole thing is just an insult to the original film. The first Exorcist was a chilling battle between the devil and a priest questioning his faith, with an innocent little girl used as the arena. It took place in a quiet unassuming street, adding a sense of realism that made the otherworldly goings-on that more powerful and disturbing. Then the sequel comes along with mind-reading headbands, African demons and James Earl Jones dressed up like a giant locust, and everything is pissed against a wall.

In the past ten years I’ve tried maybe ten or so times to watch Exorcist II, and have fallen asleep every time. This is no word of a lie. Only recently was I able to watch the whole film in one go, and now I have I can clearly say being unconscious was a far more entertaining experience. The first Exorcist was a challenging film that made its audience question their faith in religion. The sequel made them question their faith in Hollywood.

Oh, and check out the trailer below for the worst soundtrack in motion picture history.

WHERE CAN I SEE IT?
Looking for a laugh? Fair enough. You can get Exorcist II on DVD here but I’d recommend you get the Exorcist: The Complete Anthology DVD boxset instead because at least then you’ll get some brilliant films along with it. It isn’t available on Blu-ray, or on Netflix or LoveFilm streaming, but maybe that should tell you something.

Director: Rick Rosenthal

Starring: Jamie Lee Curtis, Donald Pleasance, Charles Cyphers, Dick Warlock

“He was my patient for fifteen years. He became an obsession with me until I realised there was neither reason nor conscience or anything about him that was even remotely human. An hour ago I stood up and fired six shots into him and he just got up and walked away. I am talking about the real possibility that he is still out there.” (Dr Loomis, Halloween II)

Everyone (including me) always goes on about how incredible the first Halloween was, and with good reason. It was a landmark in horror history and one of the first true pioneers of the slasher genre. It’s understandable then that its sequel doesn’t get quite as much recognition but it’s a shame because while it isn’t quite as innovative or genre-defining as its predecessor it’s still a strong slasher and a decent conclusion to what John Carpenter had only ever intended to be a two-film story.

“Sorry? In my beard? Oh, it’s a bit of bread. I was eating soup earlier”

Carpenter only wrote Halloween II, this time passing the directing duties to newcomer Rick Rosenthal. The film’s first five minutes are a recap of the last five minutes of its predecessor, reminding us of the final confrontation between Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis) and Michael Myers, and the eventual saving of the day courtesy of Dr Sam Loomis (Donald Pleasance). After the original film’s ending, with Loomis firing six shots into Myers (though some dodgy editing means this time he actually shoots him seven times) and “the Shape” legging it, the rest of the film then takes place from that immediate point on and shows what happens over the rest of the night.

As Laurie is taken to the nearby hospital to be treated for her injuries from her scrap with Myers, Dr Loomis and the Haddonfield rozzers continue their search for him. While in theory this shouldn’t be too hard – after all, they just have to look for the guy with six or seven gunshot wounds – it turns out they’re wasting their time, because Myers is actually at the hospital, trying to find Laurie and kill her.

“Hope you’re feeling better! Here, I brought you an invisible balloon”

Halloween II does lack a little of the atmosphere of the first film – while it still has a modest budget it’s significantly higher than that of Halloween ($2.5 million versus $320,000) and as such it lacks some of its predecessor’s gritty realism. While Halloween‘s unspectacular production values and normal-looking actors gave it an impressive authenticity at times, Halloween II feels more like a standard slasher movie with a more attractive supporting  cast (including the inevitable good-looking actress who gets her baps out for slightly longer than necessary).

This is also highlighted in the film’s various kills which are a little more over-the-top than in the first film. Simple stabbings and strangulations take a back seat to exploding cars, needles in the eye and an infamous scalding in a hospital therapy bath. Entertaining, but lacking in subtlety.

Susan hated the way Dustin Hoffman trimmed his fingernails

Had John Carpenter ultimately had his wish, and had Halloween II been the concluding chapter of the series, it would have been a decent ending. The Michael Myers backstory is expanded a little (it’s revealed Laurie is his sister) but not too much that it gets ridiculous as it does in later films, and the ending is satisfactory enough, providing an adequate end to the story for Laurie, Myers and Loomis (though these days, with the knowledge that six films followed it, it seems a little silly).

While it lacks the importance and atmosphere of the first film, Halloween II is still a competent slasher and a reminder that Halloween did have a couple of decent sequels until the fourth and fifth films turned it all to shit. If you’ve never seen either of the first two Halloween films, they work together as a brilliant double-bill.

WHERE CAN I SEE IT?
Halloween II is available as a standard DVD, which you can get for around a fiver. If you want to get all highly-defined you’ll need to import from the US, but be careful – only the 30th Anniversary Edition is region-free.

Director: Peter Mervis

Starring: AJ Castro, Julia Ruiz, Giovanni Bejarano, Al Galvez

JULIO – “I respect the old ways and the power of your spells but she needs to see a doctor. Someone who can take an x-ray or a blood test. It could save her life.”

BRUJO – “She has snakes. There is no doctor who will see this.”

This is another film from The Global Asylum, the shameless film “studio” who quickly writes, casts and shoots a cash-in film every time a “proper” popular film is released.

They then stick their shoddy alternative in video shops up and down the country, making their money off dopey sods who think it’s either the actual big-budget film it’s aping or some kind of official spin-off or sequel. And people like me, of course, who watch them because we know they’re rip-offs and are likely to be tremendously bad. Safe to say, Snakes On A Train didn’t disappoint.

“Sir, please put your snakes in the overhead storage compartment. Sir, you’re blocking the aisle. Don’t be an arse, sir.”

I’m going to attempt to relay the plot to you, but forgive me if a few things are lost along the way because it’s truly a bizarre story. Some guy and his girlfriend sneak their way onto a train and hide out in the cargo hold. His girlfriend is extremely ill, because a curse has been put on her, a curse that somehow led to a load of snakes hatching inside her stomach.

Once they get on the train her boyfriend starts the ritual to cure her but things go a bit tits-up and the snakes get loose on the train, meaning its cast of irritating passengers has to start working (mostly) together to sort the situation out.

For the most part Snakes On A Train is silly fun but the performances are generally weak. Some scenes also feel a little out of place, such as the disturbing scene in which a creepy older chap acting as a drug cop blackmails a young teenager into getting her baps out in return for not reporting her drug-smuggling.  Considering the silly tone of the film throughout this scene sticks out like a sore thumb and really shouldn’t have been in there.

Well, that’s what you get when you go with Virgin Trains

Other moments are just glorious silliness. The bright red gore is ridiculous and plentiful, with plenty of hilarious snake-related deaths. You’ve also got to applaud The Global Asylum for breaking a horror taboo and not necessarily ensuring the safety of the only young child on the train.

By far the most memorable moment of Snakes On A Train however is the film’s ending. To give anything away would be scandalous but the CGI here is fantastically bad and everything get so over the top that you’ll just sit there pissing yourself.

I wouldn’t necessarily recommend you run out there and buy Snakes On A Train as soon as you can but if you ever see it listed on TV you should at least give it a watch, safe in the knowledge that despite the name’s clear cash-in intentions this is actually an entertaining enough film.

WHERE CAN I SEE IT?
Steady on. Still, if you’re adamant, Snakes On A Train is only available on DVD in the UK – you can get it here. Alternatively, if you have access to the US Netflix library (find out here how to get it from the UK) you can find it there for streaming.