DEATHSTALKER WEEK: Barbarian - The Last Great Warrior King (2003)

A strange one this, although you'd expect nothing less coming from the stable of Roger Corman.

The 2003 movie Barbarian (with its totally meaningless subtitle of The Last Great Warrior King) attempts to be both a remake of, and a sequel to, the original Deathstalker (although without mentioning the name Deathstalker at all).

The protagonist of this 90-minute oddity is not only trying to retrieve the same three magic items as Deathstalker did (the Sword of Justice, the Amulet of Life and the Chalice of Magic), but is also facing a villainous wizard of the same name, Munkar, who has - once again - organised a tournament to find the best warrior in the land.

The faux Deathstalker here is the most-well groomed barbarian in cinematic history Kane (former Mr Universe and American Gladiator Michael O'Hearn), a love 'em-and-leave 'em wandering rogue who - for some inexplicable reason - gets drawn into saving the princess (Irina Grigoryeva) and restoring her father King Kandor (Yuri Petrov) to the throne after he was usurped by Munkar (Martin Kove of Cobra Kai, Karate Kid and Cagney & Lacey fame).

However what makes Barbarian its own, bizarre, entity is the introduction of Kane's sidekick, Wooby (Yuri Danilchenko), a cross between an ewok and a child in a rubbish Cowardly Lion Halloween costume, who squeaks and wobbles his way through the plot until the movie's climax, where he disappears and is never heard from again.

A bevvy of Ukrainian lovelies add the eye-candy and random topless moments, although as well as recycling the plot of Deathstalker, Barbarian also digs up vast tracts of old footage from the original film - mostly around the all-important banquet/orgy scene where not only does the Pig-Man appear once again but we also get the strange sight of the true Deathstalker (Rick Hill) watching the events unfold from the side-lines as well as a return appearance by Codille (Barbi Benton)!

However, this is even more surreal as an opening exposition flashback suggests that the events of Barbarian take place generations after Deathstalker - the "timeline" is even broken up with images of Roman soldiers - although there is never any suggestion that Barbarian is supposed to take place on our world!

For all this random weirdness, lacklustre dialogue and variable fight choreography, Barbarian still stands head-and-shoulders above Deathstalker II - Duel Of The Titans and that's even factoring in Wooby, who I'd heard was on a par with Jar-Jar Binks.

I'd take Wooby any time over Jar-Jar, at least he has some uses (he knows healing magic and is probably quite warm for those long, cold nights out in the wilderness).

AND THE WINNER ISSSSSSS...

For my money, the strongest comic book of the year was the Judge Death 2025 Mega Special, from Rebellion.

I've always loved the fact that the futuristic, post-apocalyptic, sci-fi world of Judge Dredd also freely embraces the supernatural.

Thus, it should come as no surprise that my favourite villainous characters in the decades-long, ongoing saga are The Dark Judges: Judge Fear, Judge Mortis, Judge Fire and their iconic poster boy, Judge Death.

This year's Mega Special, published to celebrate 45 years of Dredd's demonic nemeses, showcased all four of the Dark Judges in their own nightmare-fuelled short stories, beautifully written and illustrated by a variety of creators from 2000AD's stable of talent.

Antony Johnston's ultracreepy Fade To Grey (with art from Lee Carter and letters by Rob Steen), for instance, gave me a whole new appreciation of Judge Mortis

This 48-page magazine, released in time for Halloween, has been the only comic book in 2025 that, once I'd reached the end, I had a powerful urge to simply start again at page one.

Imagine my delight this Christmas when I discovered that Rachel had not only got me a print of that incredibly striking Brian Bolland cover but also had it framed, so that it was ready to hang once the seasonal festivities were in the rear view mirror.

The framed picture has now found a permanent residence on the wall adjacent to my new Dredd-laden bookshelves.

HALLOWEEN HORROR: Bloody Muscle Body Builder In Hell (1995)

Trapped inside a haunted house, a body builder must survive a blood soaked night of insanity to save himself and his friends from a demonic ghost that is hell-bent on revenge.

Bloody Muscle Body Builder In Hell aka The Japanese Evil Dead wears its love of Sam Raimi's original movies proudly on its sleeve and makes no bones about "homaging" styles, shots, and even classic lines from Evil Dead and Evil Dead II.

Writer/director/star Shinichi Fukazawa's 1995 subtitled horror barely lasts over an hour and while it starts slowly, the extended final act is simply a gonzo sequence of man-versus-indestructible demon that fans of Raimi's early work will really appreciate.

The basic plot wallows joyfully in its grainy, direct-to-video, amateur constraints following the titular bodybuilder opening up a creepy, rundown, old house in the city - which his father owned decades ago - to try and woo back his ex-girlfriend, a photojournalist looking for a "ghost story".

They've brought with them a psychic, who promptly gets possessed by the angry spirit of a murdered woman and can only be stopped by the complete dismemberment and destruction of their corpse.

The ghost uses the psychic's abilities to boost her own and trap the bodybuilder and journalist in the house, like a supernatural escape room where their only chance at freedom depends on the total eradication of the paranormal presence. 

There are moments - particularly when animated body parts combine - that reminded me of that other old school, darkly funny, Grand Guignol splatter classic, Re-Animator.

Stop-motion special effects bring a touch of Jan Švankmajer to the proceedings, while also feeling very Japanese, and the body builder's climactic discovery of his 'inner power' was reminiscent of both the TV iteration of The Incredible Hulk and Grant Morrison and Richard Case's Flex Mentallo in Morrison's seminal run on the Doom Patrol comics.

A shockingly fun, cheap and cheerful, short film, what Bloody Muscle Body Builder In Hell lacks in originality it makes up for in its passion for the material, accepting its budgetary and technical limitations and embracing them with great aplomb.

Gothic Horror Continues Even When Halloween Is Over

HALLOWEEN HORROR: Late Night With The Devil (2023)

On Halloween night 1977, in a bid to win the ratings war, late night talk show host Jack Delroy (David Dastmalchian) hosted a live demonic possession on his show, Night Owls.

The (faux) documentary, Late Night With The Devil, screens the whole show, intercut with black and white, candid, behind-the-scenes footage when the talk show cuts to commercials.

It opens though with an account of Jack's rise to fame (narrated by Michael Ironside), his involvement with The (the very real) Grove, the tragic death of his wife Madeleine (Georgina Haig), and his constant struggles - and failures - to score better ratings than The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson.

The documentary segues smoothly into Jack's Halloween special episode of Night Owls, which opens with an obviously fake psychic, Christou (Fayssal Bazzi), who clashes with magician-turned-professional sceptic Carmichael Haig (Ian Bliss).

Eventually, Christou (who might actually be sensing something) ends up projectile vomiting blood over Haig before he is taken off to get medical attention, making way for the evening's main attraction.

Then  the show (and film) introduces us to young Lilly (Ingrid Torelli), who was rescued from a brutal Satanic cult (who all, otherwise, died by fire rather than allow the FBI to take them in). Her saviour was parapsychologist author June Ross-Mitchell (Laura Gordon), who became the girl's guardian and then started working with her, trying to understand if she really was possessed by a supernatural entity.

From the get-go, Lilly is a demonic Jan Brady with a dead-eyed thousand yard stare, but once June reluctantly calls forth whatever is inside the young girl - she refers to it as Mr Wiggles - her transformation is terrifying and impressive.

Even amongst an impressive line-up of older actors, Torelli gives a bravura performance as the centre of attention, who manages to be nightmarishly creepy even when seemingly trying to be nice and not channelling dark forces from the great beyond. 

Dark secrets are laid bare, convictions are challenged, people die graphic deaths, and general shenanigans ensue.

The build-up, and pacing, directed by Cameron and Colin Cairnes from their own script, is methodical and steady, giving the gradual of collapse of the Night Owls talk show into chaos and carnage a genuine sense of believability.

Perhaps this really is recently unearthed footage from a legendary episode of American '70s late night talk show folklore...

This is the stuff creepypasta and urban legends are born out of.

Kind of aiming for similar territory as our Ghostwatch (with a liberal dash of The Exorcist), Late Night With The Devil does a spectacular job of maintaining verisimilitude while seeding clues through its simple and straightforward storyline, right up until the end.

It just fails to stick the landing by seemingly breaking its format to peel back the curtain for anyone who hadn't already twigged why everything was happening.

Maybe a documentary bookend, akin to the opening of the film, digging more into Jack's background might been better, but then again the repeated image of Jack shouting into the camera "turn off your television" is still very striking (and very Invasion of The Body Snatchers).

I guess it could be classed as found footage, but don't be put off by that, this isn't hours of shaky cam as teenagers run through woods in the middle of the night, this has higher aspirations than that.

In truth, while "found footage" can be more miss than hit with me, I do have a particular soft spot for this story format sub-genre, the mockumentary presenting something supernatural as if it were real, especially when they are done well - which Late Night With The Devil is (barring that one niggle of mine).

HALLOWEEN HORROR: Aquarium of The Dead (2021)

Aquarium of The Dead (which I only just discovered was a sequel to Zoombies) sees a batch of infected animal vaccinations turning a random selection of creatures at a sea-life centre (from star fish to a giant octopi, giant crabs to a single dolphin) into man-eating monsters. 

While the film looks half-decent, it is undermined by awful acting, a lame script, continuity errors, a surfeit of two-dimensional characters who add nothing to the mix, and just a shit-ton of stupid.

To give it its due, the film tries to add depth - particularly in the sub-plot of how the contaminated vaccines got into the creatures in the first place - but there's no rhyme nor reason to how this virus spreads and what affect it has on the creatures.

Even by Asylum standards, Aquarium of The Dead leaves a lot to be desired and this can be put down almost entirely to the script and editing.

Bad acting can be humorous, but an illogical, inconsistent narrative - that doesn't so much as come to a climax as it just stops - is pretty inexcusable when it could have been pared down to something far simpler.

HALLOWEEN HORROR: The Wicker Man (1973)

To balance up the sins of that awful Nic Cage rehash, I thought this was as good a time as any to revisit the peerless 1973 original of The Wicker Man.

Dour, puritanical, West Highland Police sergeant Howie (Edward Woodward) receives an anonymous letter, telling him about the case of a missing girl - Rowan Morrison.

She was supposed to have disappeared on the secluded Summerisle, a remote Hebridean island famed for its popular and unusually abundant fruit produce.

However, when he arrives there, the islanders claim never to have heard of the girl. Even the woman Howie believes is her mother, post mistress May Morrison (Irene Sunter), denies that she's her daughter.

Realising that this investigation isn't going to be an open-and-shut case, Howie takes a room at the island's Green Man Inn, where he meets the landlord's lovely daughter, Willow (Britt Ekland, dubbed by Annie Ross).

Struggling to come to terms with the girl's disappearance evolving into a question of semantics, humourless Howie of the 'fun police' grows increasingly frustrated with the islanders' pagan ways of public nudity, dogging, fertility rituals, singing (there's so many songs in The Wicker Man it could be classed as a musical), dancing etc.

Finding a grave for the missing girl, Howie gains permission from the island's head honcho, the charismatic Lord Summerisle (Christopher Lee), to exhume her body... only to find that Rowan's coffin doesn't contain her body.

As May Day draws near, Howie begins to suspect that Rowan isn't really dead, but being held hostage to be used in a pagan sacrifice to ensure that the island's crops don't fail as they did the year before.

Of course, we all know that the machinations of the islanders are far more sinister than that, leading to the classic - and well-known - climax (that doesn't involve bees).

It was my late father who introduced me to The Wicker Man and therefore it has always held a special significance for me.

I watched the director's cut, which had been shown on Film 4, so it had all the bits that had been cut out of the original release (just in lower quality, which is a shame because it makes those scenes draw attention to themselves for the wrong reasons).

Surely, there must be technology now that could restore these low-quality scenes to the standard of the rest of the film? That would be worth sacrificing a few virgins for, right?

It's been too long since I've seen The Wicker Man, despite it being one of my favourite movies (not just in this genre, but of all-time), and I was reminded just how many moments were lifted from it for the more recent remake... and yet that still managed to get so much wrong.

Not a scary horror per se, The Wicker Man is disorientating and unnerving, and its very lack of overt supernatural elements gives it a terrifying verisimilitude that makes you wonder if perhaps such events could still occur in modern times.

And it's always worth being reminded of this:

HALLOWEEN HORROR: Zoombies (2016)

When a strange virus quickly spreads through a safari park and turns all the zoo animals undead, those left in the park must stop the creatures before they escape and zombify the whole city.

While it's doubtful this will spawn a franchise like Sharknado (that's a special kind of lightning you can't catch in a bottle twice), The Asylum's Zoombies had the potential, on paper, to be another cult classic.

The Eden Wildlife Park is about reopen after a major upgrade, to turn it into a family-friendly visitor attraction, when several capuchin monkeys are brought to the veterinary unit, exhibiting signs of an unknown virus.

Attempts to find out what's wrong with one of them results in its death and then immediate return to life as a zombie-monkey, which promptly kills the vets and infects its kin.

The monkeys escape, and soon all the animals in the zoo are turning into vicious undead monsters, as the few staff on duty - and a coachload of new interns - struggle to prevent the infection from spreading outside the park.

I appreciated the fact that there's no hanging around with Zoombies. It opens with a television advert for the park, and then the infected monkey shows up and all hell breaks loose. And all that's even before the opening credits.

The film is part Zoo (the TV series where the animals of world turn on mankind), with a dash of Jurassic Park, all mixed in with horror movie-standard zombies (even though, for a change, these can't spread their zombie infection to humans).

Unfortunately as the virus spreads and more, and larger, animals become infected, the story becomes increasing preposterous and ill thought out, the acting takes a hit, and the special effects deteriorate (particularly memorable examples being the fuzzy-edged CGI elephants and the least convincing zip line experience in cinema history).

Elements that would be seen as foreshadowing in a regular film - such as the bond zoo owner Dr. Ellen Rogers' (Kim Nielsen) young daughter, Thea (La La Nestor) has with the gorilla Kifo (played by Ivan Djurovic in a great ape suit), or lead character Lizzy's (Ione Butler) backstory about why she got into working as a security guard - turned out to have no bearing on the plot of Zoombies.

For the first half-hour or so, I had high hopes. This movie was never going to win any awards, but the core idea was intriguing, the set-up was good, and even the majority of zombie creatures were pretty decent (and I didn't even mind that Kifo was obviously a bloke in a furry suit).

Sadly, as the film progressed, I kind of got the impression that all the effort had gone into front-loading the story and no one had really thought out a convincing ending.

There are moments when Zoombies hits that "so bad it's good" sweet spot, but disappointingly not as many as I was hoping for from the previews (see above).

HALLOWEEN HORROR: The Wicker Man (2006)

To quote the late, great Edward Woodward from the original Wicker Man:

What have I just watched?

I'm not sure what made Neil LaBute think he could - and should - remake The Wicker Man, one of the finest rural horror movies ever captured on film, or why he thought Nic Cage would make the perfect stand in for Edward Woodward.

Now, I'm a big fan of Cage, particularly when he's allowed to go completely off the hook (cf. Mandy), but in this unnecessary reboot he's kept too restrained and uptight, almost constipated, as the bee-allergic Edward Malus.

A former motorcycle cop, coping with PTSD after he failed to save a young woman and her daughter from a car fire, Edward receives a mysterious letter (hand written with a wax seal and no stamp - so, not strange at all in this day and age) from his ex-fiancée, Willow Woodward (Kate Beahan), telling him that her daughter has gone missing.

Willow's back living on the secluded, private island where she was raised, which, when he gets there, Edward discovers is a farming commune, a matriarchal cult led by the enigmatic Sister SummersIsle (Ellen Burstyn).

Except for Willow, the islanders aren't pleased to see Edward or help him in his investigations, claiming either that Willow's daughter, Rowan (Erika-Shaye Gair), never existed or died in a tragic accident.

Learning that the island is also home to many, many bee hives, Edward gets the general runaround, being led a merry - and totally random - dance by the natives, until the inevitable Wicker Man climax of the piece.

This will come as absolutely no surprise to anyone with even a passing acquaintance with the original (which, like the chestburster in Alien, has become a pop culture meme that reaches way beyond geeks and horror movie buffs).

The use of papyrus font in the opening credits didn't bode well, but I was determined to grin and bear it, to see if this version of The Wicker Man was truly as awful as everyone said.

Honestly, there could have been a half-decent horror film in the bones of LaBute's Wicker Man, if he had had the courage to make it its own thing and shed the allusions to the peerless original.

As it stands, it brings nothing new to the party and elements like the "Easter Egg" of Edward's first name and Willow's surname just come across as a bit crass and heavy-handed (like a big sign saying "oooh, aren't we clever?").

The weirdness of the islanders is so arch and on-the-nose that it's as if Edward has landed  somewhere between The League Of Gentlemen's Royston Vasey and Garth Marenghi's Darkplace, an over-the-top parody rather than a serious attempt to replicate the unnerving and atmospheric horror of the original Summerisle.

The pacing is plodding and pedestrian to begin with, interlaced with some hilariously awful dialogue, as evidenced in the truly bizarre "oh god, not the bees" scene.

And the fact that the film requires an epic infodump in the final sequence to explain to Edward what's happening was the icing on a particularly drab cake.

HALLOWEEN HORROR: The Call of Cthulhu (2005)

 

"... some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the light into the peace and safety of a new dark age."

- HP Lovecraft 

Filmed as an authentic, 1920's black and white, silent movie, The Call of Cthulhu is an amazing 47-minute piece of work, perfectly encapsulating the psychological horror of H.P. Lovecraft's iconic story.

Styling it as a movie that Lovecraft himself might have seen in the 1920s is a stroke of genius by the filmmakers of the HP Lovecraft Historical Society, as it allows for considerable leeway when it comes to the necessary effects required to bring the Great Cthulhu - and his island home of R'lyeh - to life.

The story itself is a puzzle box, an onion of layers upon layers, beginning with a man (Matt Foyer) in an asylum recounting to his doctor (John Bolen), how he was charged with sorting out the affairs of his great-uncle, Professor Angell (Ralph Lucas), upon the old man's death.

Going through the professor's papers, the man comes across a particular box of papers and files, and as he reads these we are taken back to a series of seemingly disconnected events, from the lucid dreams of artist Henry Wilcox (Chad Fifer), via a raid by New Orleans police on a savage swamp cult, and the discovery of a drifting ship with only a single survivor onboard.

We learn about the cult's worship of alien beings, Elder Gods, who are sleeping under the sea, waiting for the "stars to align", so they can awaken again, but little else to tie things together.

Later the man - having put his concerns about his uncle's affairs to one side - stumbles across further details of the mysterious ship, which sends him on a global hunt for the elusive final pieces of the puzzle.

Eventually, he arrives in Oslo and is handed the personal account of the ship's lone survivor.

This details the discovery of a strange island, where the crew disturb the resting place of the monstrous alien god Cthulhu. 

Structured as stories-within-stories-within-stories, as characters recount events in which further characters recount other events, helps accentuate the disorientating, dream-like nature of the whole affair.

Which may well just be the ramblings of a mad man.

However, clues are slowly pieced together from different events to formulate a possibly complete picture of what links all these disparate tales... and what it means for the future of humanity.

I've been reading Lovecraft since I was about 12, so am probably biased, but I love this film and treasure my old DVD of it, for all its authentic, creaky, mannered staging.

By sticking close to the original text, the combination of Sean Branney's script and Andrew Leman's direction, within the self-imposed constraints of vintage filmmaking, make Call of Cthulhu one of the best, pure, Lovecraftian adaptations.

It isn't about gore and jump scares, the horror comes from the larger scale suggestion of what the narrative implies.

HALLOWEEN HORROR: Willy's Wonderland (2021)

A nameless, eccentric, taciturn drifter (Nicolas Cage) finds himself stranded in an isolated town, and the only way he can get the cash to pay for his car repairs is by spending the night cleaning the town's derelict roadside attraction, Willy's Wonderland.

Of course, it turns out that there's a catch... of the supernatural kind.

The animatronic creatures of Willy's Wonderland not only come to life after dark, but are hungry.

There are two major factors immediately in Willy's Wonderland's favour: firstly, is there, really, such a thing as a bad Nic Cage movie (The Wicker Man aside, but that's a whole 'nother conversation)?

And, secondly, any film that plays out with Free Bird scores well with me.

However, ultimately, Willy's Wonderland feels like a movie where the idea was better on paper than in its execution.

Cage playing a character that doesn't say a word is an inspired choice, but his performance is surprisingly restrained. 

Even though there's plenty of violent fight scenes, as well as possibly too many of him playing pinball, he lacks the expected memorable physicality of, say, Sailor Ripley from Wild at Heart.

And the plot, itself, isn't really anything that new.

Both the "town that has made a deal with the Devil" and the "murderous animatronics" are well-known horror movie tropes, but Willy's Wonderland plays them both at face value and doesn't do anything that unique or inventive with them.

The backstory to the events that unfold is gruesomely fascinating and there's a definite consistent verisimilitude about the townsfolk and the bargain they have entered into to protect their own, but I kept hoping for more.

Just off the top of my head, on the animatronic side alone, Willy's Wonderland is Child's Play writ large, mashed up with Five Nights At Freddy's, and The Banana Splits Movie.

The 'serial killer cult' (shades of The Following) was a nice touch, but then the lack of distinctly different personalities within that felt like a missed opportunity.

Cage's silence allowed locals to drop exposition on him - and us - quite convincingly. 

However, several of his character's quirks, such as his regular break schedule (whatever else was going on) are left unexplained, almost to the extent of suggesting his character is a blank slate that simply acts as the story demands... kind of like an animatronic amusement park mascot!

Enjoyable nonsense while it's on, Willy's Wonderland isn't a film that's going to be bothering anyone's Top Ten Favourite Horror Movie lists, but is silly enough for a fun, brain-in-neutral, beer-and-pizza film night viewing experience.

HALLOWEEN HORROR: The Amusement Park (1973)

George A Romero's "lost" movie, 1973's The Amusement Park is a bit of an odd fish.

It was the only work-for-hire movie the father of modern zombie cinema made, commissioned by the Lutheran Service Society of Western Pennsylvania "as an educational film about elder abuse", but shelved soon after completion.

A print was discovered of this believed-to-be-lost film in 2017, restored, and was made available to view on Shudder.

Directed and edited by George A Romero, from a script by Wally Cook, The Amusement Park primarily features volunteer actors, or people who were actually involved in elderly care at the time.

In an interview, Romero's wife Suzanne Desrocher-Romero is quoted as saying:

"They [did] use it initially, but I suspect that they thought it was a little edgier than they would have liked."

Clocking in at just under an hour, the main story is bookended by stage actor Lincoln Maazel (who portrays the main character in the film) addressing the audience on how poorly the elderly generation are treated and how we should all change our attitudes to be more accommodating.

The story commences with a jovial Maazel entering an anonymous white room with a single door out.

There's another old man in there, looking the worse for wear, and groaning.

Maazel tries to engage him in conversation, but the battered man simply tells him there's nothing out there and not to go through the door.

Opening the door, Maazel - who also plays the key role of Tateh Cuda in Romero's 1978 vampire film Martin - sees a busy fun fair and steps through.

What follows is a metaphorical bombardment of this old man, with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer, as he stumbles - increasingly deliriously - through a cavalcade of on-the-nose - but often still rather clever - allegories about old age. 

For instance, pensioners are seen queueing up to hawk their valuables in exchange for tickets to the fun fair rides; there's an eye test before you're allowed to drive one of the dodgems (bumper cars) and if you hit someone police and insurance company reps show up; when Maazel tries to be kind to some children he gets heckled as a "degenerate"; a young couple visit a fortune teller and see a terrifying vision of their future in a rundown flat, penniless, and unable to get the medicine they require etc

When Maazel tries to help fellow elderly punters at the fair, the younger - more numerous - visitors don't pay him any attention.

At one point he is hustled into an attraction ominously called Boot Hill, which turns out to be a grim physiotherapy centre.

A "freak show" just features old people, and when Maazel goes to leave, the crowd proclaim that "one is escaping" and chase after him.

There's a moment when Maazel is set upon by a trio of bikers.

Another scene has him being pickpocketed by a sleazy con-artist.

Even when it seems like he might have found some solace reading The Three Little Pigs to a picnicking girl her mother soon packs up and takes the girl away, leaving Maazel almost in tears.

Finally, the ground down and broken Maazel stumbles back into the white room, now the battered version of himself as his earlier self enters the room again, fresh and full of optimism.

Stylistically, I feel The Amusement Park owes a lot to 1962's Carnival of Souls, with elements of Stanley Kubrick's 1971 A Clockwork Orange,.

You can also see echoes of The Amusement Park in LQ Jones's 1975 adaptation of Harlan Ellison's A Boy and His Dog.

It's obvious from the get-go why the film's commissioners decided not to go with this peculiar oddity as their Public Service Announcement of choice.

It falls into the same broad category as the notoriously disquieting British public information films of the same era, but is considerably longer - and more surreal - than those tended to be. 

While The Amusement Park does get across its point about the systemic mistreatment and general abandonment of the elderly, it does it in a way that is more likely to turn off a general audience rather than inspire them to take positive action. 

Not because of its more shocking and dark content, but because of its art house approach of disjointed sounds and imagery.

As an amateur cinéaste, I found The Amusement Park an interesting watch (primarily because of who directed it), but I can't say it educated or inspired me about elderly care in any manner.

Additional research c/o Wikipedia.

HALLOWEEN HORROR: Mandy (2018)

Revenge thrillers are not renowned for their complex plots and they don't come more linear than Nicolas Cage's wonderously visceral Mandy (out on DVD this week).

It's 1983 and grizzled lumberjack - and man of few words - Red Miller (Cage) and his artistic, hippy, girlfriend Mandy Bloom (Andrea Riseborough) live an idyllic life in the wilderness.

Unfortunately, by chance, one day Mandy catches the eye of failed musician and deranged cult leader Jeremiah Sand (Linus Roache).

Sand employs demented biker gang The Black Skulls to kidnap Mandy for his pleasure, but things don't go exactly according to plan, sending Red on an epic, furious, quest for vengeance.

At times feeling like a journey into Hell curated by David Lynch, Mandy is part Apocalypse Now, part Texas Chain Saw Massacre, and part Unforgiven, taking queues from multiple genres as writer/director Panos Cosmatos aims his laser-focus on Red's mythic mission of revenge.

I loves me some weird cult shit and Mandy delivers on that front with The Black Skulls and Sand's Children of the New Dawn, and enough peculiar characters and mannered dialogue to populate a suburb of Twin Peaks.

Startling visuals merge with subtle camera tricks to disorientate the viewer, enhancing our insights into the minds of both protagonist and antagonist, creating an artistic cocktail of psychedelic grindhouse.

Reminiscent of Baskin in its brutal relentlessness, Mandy, however, is more concerned with the human - and occasionally superhuman - monster than the cosmic.

The role of Red is one that only Cage could truly have embodied, segueing from effortless charm to ruthless killer as his descent into madness progresses.

With a running time just shy of two hours, Mandy feels a fraction of that duration thanks to its spectacular pacing and addictive imagery.

The plot may be a short railroad, but the scenery is breathtakingly hypnotic as you are catapulted along this stunning and unforgettable ride.

HALLOWEEN HORROR: The Seed (2021)

Three old friends - vapid online influencer Deidre (Lucy Martin from Vikings), pet shop worker Charlotte (I Hate Suzie's Chelsea Edge), and Heather (Sophie Vavasseur, Resident Evil: Apocalypse) - head for chilled weekend at an isolated luxury villa in the Mojave desert.

The idea being they will spend the time catching-up, drinking, taking drugs and watching a "once-in-a-lifetime" meteor shower.

However, an unexpected side effect of the meteor shower is the arrival of a strange creature, dropping out the sky into the villa's swimming pool.

Thinking it's possibly an armadillo or a bear cub, Charlotte wants to care for it, but the others are less keen and just want rid of the bizarre, stinking object.

However, as the weekend unfolds, the new arrival begins to have a strange effect on first Deidre and then Heather, before Charlotte (the obvious Final Girl from the moment she appears on screen) realises what is going on.

The first feature-length work from writer-director Sam Walker, The Seed is an engrossing - if not totally original - spin on an anti-E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial meets Color Out Of Space story.

On a superficial level, this is a 1950s shlock horror movie of the "aliens-want-our-women" sub-genre, updated for the contemporary social media generation. 

I was really expecting to find the leads annoying, but even the over-the-top Deidre is hypnotically watchable because of Lucy Martin's stellar performance.

Throw in some surreal Society-style shunting; psychedelic mental communications; and gallons of black, alien, blood and you have a great recipe for an enjoyable 90-minute Lovecraftian body horror romp.

The alien creature itself is fascinating as it is largely passive, but, as long as you can suspend your disbelief, this puppet-from-another-planet is a compelling antagonist since it relies primarily on mental powers - rather than physical - to get what it wants.

The script isn't perfect though. While Charlotte and Deidre are well-developed characters, Heather seems oddly lacking any sort of backstory beyond the fact that her father owns the villa and she's constantly worried about messing it up.

And when Charlotte and Heather are exploring the seemingly-abandoned cabin of their nearest neighbour, there's a definite suggestion that something apocalyptic has happened to the rest of the world already, and yet later we learn this is not the case.

Conversely, through the clever use of clairvoyant montages, The Seed does an excellent job of foreshadowing the alien invader's plans for the Earth without anyone spoon-feeding them to the audience.

Sam Walker also clearly loves his fake-out endings, which I always approve of if done well and these are.

HALLOWEEN HORROR: Color Out Of Space (2019)

Nathan Gardner (Nic Cage) and his wife, Theresa (Joely Richardson), have moved, with their three children, out of the big city to a secluded farm in the woods outside Arkham, Massachusetts, for a bit of peace and quiet.

Stockbroker Theresa is recovering from cancer and Nathan is trying his hand at becoming a self-sufficient farmer.

However their lives are disrupted when a strange meteorite crashes on their land, polluting the area with a paranormal alien radiation.

HP Lovecraft's original story of The Colour Out Of Space has been adapted many times, but, beyond a shadow of a doubt the latest iteration, from writer/director Richard Stanely, is the most Lovecraftian.

A gorgeous, mind-bending, blend of the cosmic with the body horror of The Thing and Society,  Color Out Of Space focuses on a trapped - and doomed - family, slowly worn down by an unknowable, extraterrestrial invader.

Certainly not for everyone, Color Out Of Space isn't a trashy teen slasher flick with obvious heroes and villains, but a terrifying encapsulation of the central theme of Lovecraft's oeuvre that "common human laws and interests and emotions have no validity or significance in the vast cosmos-at-large".

There is never really any serious suggestion that the alien entity is even aware of the humans it is transforming by its simple presence.

My Copy - Not Used In Any Rituals!

The film bears obvious similarities with 2018's Annihilation, but Color Out Of Space is the stronger work of art by a country mile.

Across the board, the central performances are superb. Nic Cage channels Nic Cage as only he can, exhibiting the convincing levels of madness and sudden rage that he does so well, while The Magicians' Madeleine Arthur is impressive as teen daughter, Lavinia, whose rebellious nature expresses itself through dabbling in witchcraft.

Beyond the gooey body horror, there's some cringe-inducing - but thankfully brief - self-mutilation that might require some eye-covering by those of us with a particular aversion to such things.

As well as rooting the story squarely in Lovecraft country, Richard Stanley has sown his tale with Lovecraftian Easter Eggs, such as the Miskatonic University sweat shirt worn by visiting surveyor Ward (Elliot Knight, sadly no relation) and the tatty, cheap paperback copy - "by Simon" - of the Necronomicon (which we all own) that Lavina consults.

Quite possibly my favourite film of 2020, Color Out Of Space is breathtaking in the audacity of its vision, a modern rendition of a Lovecraft story that truly captures the horror of its set-up and the terror of those trapped within its incidental and inescapable prison.

HALLOWEEN HORROR: Antrum - The Deadliest Film Ever Made (2018)

As I've said many times I have a particular weakness for stories about cursed media, such as Cigarette Burns, Archive 81, Deadwax, The Hills Run Red, etc but the conceit of these movies tends to be that we, at most, see and hear only glimpses of the cursed object while our protagonists track it down and, invariably, suffer the fate of all those who have pursued it in the past.

The unique gimmick of 2018's Antrum: The Deadliest Film Ever Made is that we, the audience, are seeing the entire movie for ourselves, bookended by a pair of mockumentary segments, establishing the terrifying backstory and provenance of this "unique" print of a legendary 1970s Bulgarian (?) movie called Antrum that has left a trail of death in its wake.

In a sense, we are now the protagonists in the story of this artefact, "daring" to watch it despite its existential reputation.

The central movie-within-the-movie, while occasionally horrific and tense (because we keep expecting something to happen due to the manufactured reputation attached to what we are now watching), is essentially a grim, but possibly grittily mundane, nightmarish tale about a couple of children, Oralee (Nicole Tompkins) and Nathan (Rowan Smyth), on a camping trip.

The film opens with their beloved family dog, Maxine, being put down by a vet.

Nathan is traumatised by this, especially when his mother (Kristel Elling) suggests that Maxine has gone to Hell (for reasons we discover later in the film).

So Oralee hits upon the idea of taking her younger brother out into some spooky woods (clearly inspired by Japan's infamous Aokigahara forest) to dig a tunnel down to Hell to rescue the soul of Maxine.

Oralee has it all planned out as a therapeutic exercise, but her scheme goes awry as strange things start to happen and they stumble across a farm belonging to a pair of degenerate, white trash individuals (Dan Istrate and Circus-Szalewski) who like to capture people and cook them inside a giant brass effigy of Baphomet.

Although the role of the cannibals isn't particularly protracted, I still felt this was the weakest element of the film, a peculiar random encounter with shades of Texas Chain Saw Massacre meets the grisly realism of Man Bites Dog, jumbled in with the demonic terrors (imagined or otherwise) that the siblings were also contending with.

While this story on its own is a powerful thriller, with strong horror elements, the overriding unease of the film comes from what has supposedly been done to the print of Antrum that we are watching.

The documentary portions of the larger film acknowledge that there are subliminal images and symbols cut into the movie print, but there are plenty of other details (from Midsommar-style "faces" in the background of scenes to words scratched onto the negative) left for us to discover on our own, along with occasional odd jump cuts and auditory strangeness that really gets under your skin if you let it.

A puzzle box of a picture, where you find yourself searching for clues to the bigger picture while still being invested in the story of the two siblings in the woods, Antrum: The Deadliest Film Ever Made has definite shades of The Blair Witch Project and a soupçon of additional David Lynch weirdness about it.

Actually a Canadian horror film written and directed by David Amito and Michael Laicini, Antrum deserves praise for its hardcore attempt to establish a verisimilitude around the supernatural print of this supposedly cursed movie.

If you allow yourself to buy into this, even if just for the 95 minute running time of the movie, this has the potential to stay with you for the longest time... and don't be surprised if find yourself tempted to watch it again to see if you missed anything.

HALLOWEEN HORROR: Hatchet 2 (2010)

Nothing cheers me up quicker - when I'm in the doldrums - than a good splatter flick and Hatchet 2 ;certainly delivers on that score.

Which is not to say it's a great movie; writer/director Adam Green's one-man campaign to the reclaim the old school slasher genre for the 21st Century has stuck so closely to the original formula that the sequel is, sadly, a pale imitation of the first.

Picking up where Hatchet left off, lone survivor Marybeth (the original's far more pleasing Tamara Feldman swapped out for Danielle Harris) heads back to New Orleans where she meets up with souvenir salesman and phony voodoo priest Reverend Zombie (Tony Todd) and gets him to organise a hunting party to return to the swamps and track down the murderous 'ghost' of Victor Crowley (Kane Hodder).

It takes a long while - a good half-hour - for the hunters to all get together, including Marybeth's uncle Bob (Tom Holland), who is possibly the single-most monotone and emotionally-stunted actor I have ever seen, before they all head back into the swamps the good stuff can begin.

It also doesn't help that Marybeth - as portrayed by Harris - isn't a particularly sympathetic or likeable character.

Everything feels more light-weight than last time, with almost no effort being made to sketch in backstories for the hunters before they get picked off by Crowley - although Green takes obvious delight in the drawn-out, buckets-of-blood-and-gore death scenes (several of which are quite inventive, while others are just plain nasty).

We do learn some more of Victor Crowley's tragic - and paranormal - origins and find out about Marybeth's family connections to Crowley, but after the long build-up, the slaughter of the not-so-innocent seems over too quickly.

Hatchet 2 is a decent extension of the Hatchet storyline, but after the tongue-in-bloody-cheek Grand Guignol of the original, I kind of expected more (and not just more gore) from the sequel.

At least Tony Todd is always good value for money and Kane Hodder turns in a surprisingly touching performance as Victor Crowley's father, Thomas, during an extended flashback.

I'm still keen to see Hatchet III at some stage, but not as excited as I was to see this movie after I saw the first.

HALLOWEEN HORROR: Archive 81 (2022)

A shy video-restoration expert, Dan Turner (Underwater's Mamoudou Athie) is offered a once-in-a-lifetime financial deal to work on a sensitive project for shady businessman Virgil Davenport (Martin Donovan).

The job involves relocating to an isolated compound, where Dan will be restoring and digitising a fragile collection of fire-damaged video tapes.

He soon learns that these tapes, dating from the mid-90s, were part of a doctoral thesis by student Melody Pendras (Altered Carbon's Dina Shihabi) who was compiling an oral history of the eccentric residents of a New York apartment building.

However, as he watches the tapes, not only does Dan discover a personal connection to the unfolding story but he also sees that Melody seemingly stumbled upon a cult operating in the building.

Told over eight, hour-long episodes, Archive 81 is the latest horror offering from Netflix and I have to say upfront it's as creepy as anything.

Based on a podcast (that I was previously unaware of), for my tastes, this is as close to perfection as anything I've seen in a very long time.

I was also quite surprised - going in spoiler-free - how many coincidences there were between elements of Archive 81 and The Last Ritual, an Arkham Horror story by S.A. Sidor, which I read at the end of 2021.

Both involve cults operating in artistic communities, and, as we go deeper down the rabbit hole the backstory of Archive 81 pays a visit to a very Lovecraftian 1920s. 

The whole cult throughline has incredible Lovecraftian overtones, which made me immensely happy as the series felt like a clever modernisation of the writings of this hugely important and influential horror story scribe.

With its inclusion of another of my favourite tropes - the hunt for mysterious or cursed films - I was also reminded of the comic book mini-series, The Lot (from defunct publisher Bad Idea) and, of course, John Carpenter's Cigarette Burns, and Deadwax.

Initially I'd only planned to watch the first episode (I'd offered to check the show for 'gore content' on behalf of an old friend) of Archive 81, but I was hooked from the get-go.

I binged the whole eight-hour show in a day - with some breaks for 'real life', naturally.

Focusing primarily on Dan's investigation, and then Melody's as a story-within-the-story, some might dismiss Archive 81 as a slow-burner, but it's simply being methodical, with the viewer's close attention being rewarded with subtle clues and foreshadowing.

Some clues are there up front, like the references to Dante's Inferno, with the inclusion of an old film serial called The Circle, and our protagonist, Dan T, being led on this descent into Hell by a gentleman called Virgil.

And I'm sure there were plenty of other references and allusions that I failed to pick up on. 

By the end you will come to realise that everything was important. Other properties may boast that "it's all connected" in their rambling franchises, but in Archive 81 it really is.

If I had a small nit to pick it would be the special effects of a certain creature manifestation, but this is a very small quibble and certainly doesn't detract from the incredible, unnerving nature of the show.

HALLOWEEN HORROR: Digging Up The Marrow (2014)

Known for horror movie series like Hatchet and Frozen, director Adam Green (playing himself) receives a wad of information in the mail from a fan who claims to have discovered real monsters.

Green decides this would be a brilliant subject for a documentary and heads out to meet the mysterious William Dekker (Twin Peaks' Ray Wise) and hopefully get a chance to see these so-called monsters.

Dekker spins him yarns about a subterranean world - accessed through holes in the ground usually found near cemeteries - called 'the Marrow', populated by an assemblage of deformed creatures.

Shot in a mock-documentary style (with swatches of 'shaky hand-held camera footage'), the film follows the childishly-excited Green and his sceptical cinematographer, and long-time collaborator, Will Barratt (also playing himself) as they interview Dekker and are then taken on a series of night-time reconnaissance missions, staking out an alleged Marrow entrance.  

Along the way, there are several cameos from known-genre figures (such as Kane Hodder, Mick Garris and Green's ex-wife Rileah Vanderbilt) who don't get what he is trying to achieve with this documentary and generally dismiss Dekker as a potentially-dangerous nutter or a con man.

This is more than a simple "what if monsters really existed?" movie, as a key element in the tale is that that question is being tackled by a horror movie director whose career is based on creating terrifying creatures.

The mockumentary is joyously incomplete, dangling plot threads that are never truly explained (such as the chronology of whatever is in Dekker's locked storeroom), but that's life. And the movie's brilliant ending justifies wholeheartedly why Green left his magnum opus unfinished.

I get why some people don't grok this. They're wrong. But I get it. Digging Up The Marrow is a slow burner, building up to its kick-in-the-teeth third act. Sure, there's a pretty terrifying jump scare about half-an-hour in, but the bulk of the film is about building atmosphere and creating a world.

I can only imagine that a lot of people - coming off the back of the Hatchet franchise - were caught off-guard by how subtle and intelligent Digging Up The Marrow is.

Thematically it owes a lot to the more-grounded tales of HP Lovecraft's oeuvre (particularly his "ghouls") and, of course, Clive Barker's Nightbreed, but the documentary style gives it a verisimilitude that is only undermined by the presence of such a recognisable actor as Ray Wise in a lead role.

Wise is superb, wholly convincing as the shady and driven Dekker, and I understand why Green cast him - to stress that this is 'make-believe' and not an attempt at a Blair Witch-style hoax. Yet I can't help but wonder how the film would have been received if Green had gone down that route with an unknown actor as Dekker.

In reality, Digging Up The Marrow came about because of a fortuitous confluence of events in Green's life. First, he received a highly detailed package of notes from a fan claiming to be the real story of Green's creation, Victor Crowley (from the Hatchet series).

Later the film director met artist Alex Pardee who gave him a booklet of illustrations for his exhibition Digging Up The Marrow that told the story of detective William Dekker commissioning him to draw creatures he'd encountered in his investigations of the Marrow.

HALLOWEEN HORROR: Countess Dracula (1971)

In 17th Century Hungary, the elderly and recently widowed Countess Elisabeth Nádasdy (Ingrid Pitt) discovers she can temporarily restore her youth and libido by bathing in the blood of young virginal women.

Initially, her secret is only known to her castellan Captain Dobi (Nigel Green, a familiar face from such classics as Zulu and Jason & The Argonauts), who has loved the countess from afar for two decades and sees the death of her husband as making way for him, and her brainwashed nurse, Julie (Patience Collier).

At the reading of her husband's will, the Countess finds herself attracted to a new arrival, Lt. Imre Toth (Sandor Elès, who has an air of Jonathan Rhys Meyers about him), the son of her husband's wartime colleague and heir to the Count's stables and collection of valuable horses.

Unfortunately, the will divides the late Count's estate between the Countess and their daughter, Ilona (Lesley-Anne Down, of North and South, and Dallas), who has yet to arrive back from a stay of many years in Vienna.

Thus, the Countess instructs Dobi to kidnap Ilona on her return to the area, and she is bundled off as a prisoner of mute woodsman Janco (Peter May), who's not the sharpest tool in the box but still manages to thwart her multiple escape attempts.

In the absence of the real Ilona, the de-aged Countess assumes the role of her daughter and seduces cavalry officer Toth.

However, because her dark magic never lasts longer than about 48 hours, the Countess finds herself switching between the 'characters' she plays in the castle, while also charging Dobi with finding her fresh victims.

The wise old librarian Grand Master Fabio (Maurice Denham) quickly becomes suspicious and starts to investigate the goings-on in the castle, but this comes at a cost.  

However, his downfall opens the eyes of Toth, just as the castle is forced into "lockdown" by the Chief Bailiff, Captain Balogh (Peter Jeffrey), who concludes that the person responsible for the recent spate of murders could be among the Countess's staff.

Blackmailed into staying, Toth is forced to go through with the planned wedding to the fake Ilona, but the Countess needs another bath of blood to maintain her looks and energy for the honeymoon.

With no visitors coming to the castle, the jealous Dobi has to retrieve a virgin for exsanguination so his unrequited love can find some kind of happiness with a younger man.

Guess who he brings back?

A solid, if ultimately unremarkable, slice of Hammer Horror fare, with music from Harry Robertson of Hawk The Slayer fame, this is a creative compression of the legend of the real Hungarian Countess Elizabeth Báthory, a real 16th Century serial killer said to have bathed in the blood of her victims.

Of course, the Countess isn't a classic cinematic vampire - there are no fangs on display, and she doesn't drink the blood, but rather uses it as skin cream - so the title Countess Dracula (shoehorned into the dialogue right at the last moment) is a slight misnomer. 

Mainly enjoyable for the charms of Ingrid Pitt, the film certainly improves the closer it gets to its climax, but to modern eyes one can't help thinking that with some judicious trimming of the fat this could have made a really good hour-long shocker.

I went into Countess Dracula pretty certain I'd seen it before, but as the tale unfolded, the more convinced I became that it was actually 'new' to me and I'd simply conflated it with the many other 'boobs and blood' vampire films I've sought out over the years.