DIRECTED BY BRIAN o’MALLEY
fantastic films/makar productions/greenhouse media investments/mr. significant films/creative scotland/bord scannÁn na hÉireann (irish film board)
No, Marsha, I did NOT expect that I would be watching a morality play when I dialed up this Scottish/Irish co-production set mainly in a single location, that being a police station or whatever the hell they call it in their peculiar dialect over on the Auld Sod, distinctions further muddled by their brogue so that occasional lines of dialogue flew right past these bewildered and dB-damaged American ears. A morality play this is, however, about the souls of the guilty being claimed by You Know, in this case with the able yet hitherto unsuspecting assistance of a human female, played by The Woman herself, Pollyanna McIntosh. Prey starts out weird and goes completely off the deep end, along the way calling to mind such other amusements as Ash vs. Evil Dead; Willem Dafoe as Sgt. Elias in Platoon crossed with Bobby Peru in Wild at Heart; The Canal (another Irish horror of the same vintage); and maybe an Australian or Kiwi film or two. If I can find any real complaint with this occasionally heavy-handed entertainment, it’s often a little too theatrical. The “morality play” identification is apt in multiple senses.
WHY did i watch this movie?
I found it while looking for something else and thought it sounded interesting, especially as I rather enjoyed the aforementioned Irish picture.
should you watch this movie?
If you do, see how many other films it conjures up for you, and we’ll compare.
highlight and low point
Escalating audaciously, the deliberately paced reveals of the various skeletons stashed in the characters’ closets match nicely with each’s slowly dawning realization of his or her predicament. One negative is the above-noted lack of verisimilitude; the action never surpasses masquerade.
A harrowing exercise in psychological terror, coupled with an in-depth examination of the fight-or-flight response, this British spelunking picture convinced me that I lack a certain sense of adventure, that I am not equipped with derring-do. (I frequently used to be reckless or foolhardy, but those are not equivalent.) Oftentimes claustrophobia-inducing, it at other times reminded me of 2014’s The Pyramid, which is unfortunate, but as it predated that flop by almost a decade, the blame lies with my tardiness. Similarly, I couldn’t help but relate this picture – featuring a group of friends with some relationship issues being picked off one by one – to others with like themes that I’ve watched of late. To be completely straightforward, this flick lacks somewhat for credibility, but it’s executed so well it’s not an issue. Dubious though I was when the cavers first encountered the resident humanoid danger, the troglodytes’ existence and demeanor felt circumstantially logical. (Indeed, I’d be hard-pressed to imagine how ravenous cave-dwelling mutants might not provoke some disbelief.) Seeing it with its original ending also helped, I think, ambiguous though it remained.
Actually directed by 
Based around a rather dubious proposition – kidnapping an acquaintance’s wife to prevent him from making a business deal at, uh, the stroke of midnight, or something along those lines – the REAL horror here is in the breakdown of the characters’ shared relationships, man. Oh, and in the revelation of the ugly truths underlying their established personas. Or something along those lines. Only intermittently interesting for some of the glimpses at the dynamics of the power structure within this group of former school chums, events eventually take a dramatic and unexpected turn for the somewhat perverse once the action tips toward and past the climax. (Literally! In at least one sense.) It’s not too hard to figure out the mystery-of-sorts as regards the killer clown(s), but another mystery proves more elusive: what the hell?
Okay, I imagined this one was gonna be pretty lame, and in fact, I had put off watching it for the past couple years. It kept almost making the cut, but then I’d figure it was gonna be too tame and too much like a soap opera. Instead, it was actually a pretty taut affair, and despite some overly predictable developments, a rewarding choice. (It probably didn’t hurt that none of the other flicks I watched around the same time were much good.) Michael Ironside’s malevolent antihero is an implacable force, ably balancing out the fact that Wm. Shatner kept reminding me of so-called U. S. “president” Don T., through no fault of his own. (Shatner’s, that is.) A few genuinely surprising scenes during the climactic action were a welcome sight. I also found the subject matter, of a female media personality’s taking a stand opposing violence against women and triggering a backlash from a vigilante nutcase, to be very relevant in the current political climate.
Only about 75 minutes long, this British production is basically Scream meets The Strangers, minus any meta sensibility or any tinge of humor (or humour, if you will). It does feature the very British touch of having one or more of its characters muttering and whispering his or her dialogue so that it’s virtually impossible to hear, especially if you’re watching it with doors and windows open in a neighborhood like mine. (And a sense of hearing like mine.) Also featured: very little detail. We aren’t told much about motivation, relationships, hierarchies. We do get some brief insights from which inferences may be drawn, but are essentially dropped into the middle of someone else’s story without being given a lot of background. What transpires is effectively unsettling, however – in any number of ways – and the ending is pretty intense. The story REALLY needed some new ideas of its own, though.
Rather preposterously set in a “high school” (none of the major student roles is played by anyone under 18, or particularly close), this picture presents an extremely convoluted resolution to an otherwise straightforward, standard horror movie. Sure, as you watch, you know you’re being set up for the SHOCKING ending – hell, the filmmakers tease you with various false reveals along the way – but even so, once all the layers are peeled away, you feel a little incredulous. Skeptical, even. I mean, it all seems like WAY too much trouble for a touch of retribution. The red herrings from the production team combine with similar trickery from the characters themselves to create a film that overall is a bit too intricate. It’s also a bit too long. And in spite of all that, to pull off the ruse, they still had to cheat.
Hey, a new competitor for worst movie on this site! For some reason turning one of the best and most impactful horror movies ever made into an extended bout of broadly drawn “humor,” aggravating characterizations, little plot and no point, TCM2 is a chore to endure. Insulting in its carelessness, this flick only could have been more of a cartoon had The Mystery Machine appeared. (Much of the action takes place in an abandoned amusement park, for crying out loud. Where were the Harlem Globetrotters and Phyllis Diller?) Leatherface – sorry, “Bubba” – is reminiscent of Fred Gwynne as Herman Munster, which is not a compliment, much as Bill Moseley’s horrible character seems to have presaged alleged funnyman Jim Carrey’s equally irritating “Fire Marshall Bill.” (And in actuality was a template for Michael Keaton’s Betelgeuse.) Meanwhile, Dennis Hopper spends the first half of the film not even pretending he gives half a damn and the second half hamming it up wildly. Mr. Hooper allegedly wanted to compensate for the audience’s not recognizing the black humor in the original, but this extremely stupid and classless farce raises the question whether his first attempt was just a happy accident. Also commits the sequel’s sin of reductionism while simultaneously destroying continuity – a hapless combination. And the FX suck, too. Excruciating and disgraceful.
A frankly bizarre eco-horror experiment, this Indian film contains no dialogue; characters communicate with grunts, howls and ululations, with broad gestures and what is apparently some form of sign language that I do not recognize (and which does not seem as though it could be very effective). On occasion, this choice of the filmmaker’s does interfere with one’s enjoyment of his picture, but it’s not as much of a problem as one may surmise. It remains odd and somewhat off-putting, however. WHY there’s no dialogue is implied by some setup shots: the five main characters are graduates of a special school for people with unspecified disabilities, though in this case they’re deaf-mutes. Now, wouldn’t you just know it, some tomfoolery goes horribly wrong and they must face the consequences. Which in this case are supernatural. And then there’s an extremely ironic twist. To be completely honest, this effort’s not exactly coherent, but its hallucinatory elements and creative craftsmanship combine to produce quite an effect. Slight tension arises here and there, not much in the way of fright.
SPACE RATS From Outer Space 