Author: Jim McLennan

Snakebite, by Heather Ramsay

  By

Literary rating: ★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆

I believe I have previously written disparagingly about “cinematic amnesia”, where a plot revolves around the lead character’s loss of memory. Inevitably, it comes back at exactly the points required for the plot, and to maximize drama. Unless the maker is very skilled, it always seems highly contrived, and I tend to find it distracting. This may be the first time I’ve read a case of such blatant literary amnesia, and much the same problems result.  As soon as “the A word” cropped up – page 37 – I was bracing myself for what was to come. The book did not disappoint in this area. 

The heroine is “Phoenix” – not her real name, since she can’t remember her real one. She was picked up out of a burnt-out grocery store, and taken to become a member of an elite military unit run by the United Nations (there’s another clue, since the UN cannot actually organize the proverbial piss-up in a brewery). They roam the world, with their mission being to “track, contain or terminate threats to global safety”, under General Cobra. No, really: that’s what he’s called. He’s a former Colombian government operative, who left the country after his hardcore tactics made him too many enemies. But he’s now going back, with Phoenix as his undercover wife, to take out weapons dealer Li Julong and his associate, Dr. Max Devereaux.

You will no doubt be shocked – SHOCKED! – to hear that the pair have a previous connection to Phoenix and, indeed, might perhaps have something to do with how she ended up in the grocery store. Before we get there though, we have to grind our way through so much Unresolved Sexual Tension between Phoenix and Cobra. Initially, she hates him, but as soon as they start having to play house, her thoughts immediately become hot ‘n’ sweaty. A sample: “I didn’t want to admit it, but I had it bad for him… Only a few days ago I hated the sight of him; now I wanted to rub up against him like a cat in heat. I had to do something about it.” Yeah. It’s like that. 

Then the switch in her head gets flicked, all of her memories come back, and Cobra is all but forgotten. I’m not sure this is how amnesia works, though to be fair, this isn’t your usual “bang on the head” flavour of that. After a brisk opening, this is more or less downhill all the way, and there’s not even particularly much in the way of action. Between first her UST, and then discovering the truth about her pre-amnesia life, there isn’t much room for anything else, and consequently, this becomes an increasing drag. About the only bit to stick in my mind is an extended near-death experience, which is well-written, yet doesn’t add much. Preferable to more UST or amnesia, however. 

Author: Heather Ramsay
Publisher: Titan Inkorp, though it appears weirdly unavailable on Amazon at this point/
Book 1 of 3 in the Alpha Squad series.

Dietroit 2 Chiraq

  By

★½
“Aspirations impossible to fulfill.”

I’m not averse to the concept here. The Tubi synopsis says, “Three women rampage from Detroit to Chicago seeking revenge on Davion Legrel I, the ruthless criminal who killed their best friend.” I’d watch that movie: if anyone ever gets around to making it, let me know. Because this certainly would require subdued lighting and a very specific angle, as well probably as some kind of eye condition, before it could be mistaken for the synopsis. I am even slightly interested in lead character Christina (Brazier), a former Army nurse who, bizarrely, alludes to having learned interrogation skills while on tour in the Middle East. This would not be a combination I’ve encountered before. 

Unfortunately, that’s where the good news ends. I guess the synopsis is technically accurate, providing you are happy with a very loose definition of the words “rampage”, “revenge” and “ruthless.” For the main problem is simply resources unable to depict convincingly what’s in the script. The most woeful example is when Christina and pals Robin (Merrill) and Stephanie (Reynolds) arrive in Chicago, and go to a “club” in search of information about Davion (Spearmon). “This is a classy place,” says one attendee. No: it is not. It looks far more like an empty office suite, having folding tables as furniture, and two bits of paper on the wall, with the words “CLUB” and “HADES” printed on them. And don’t even get me started on the woeful rap artist, supposedly launching his EP. 

These poverty-row production values permeate the whole production. There’s a latter sequence supposed to be set in a top-end bordello, where our trio masquerade as hookers (explaining the cover), again for information gathering purposes. To be blunt, I’ve seen condemned crack houses with more erotic ambiance. The problem is, basically, ambitions far in excess of what the makers can deliver. They should have gone the other direction, rather than trying (and failing miserably) to appear high-end. Go low instead, and aim for gritty authenticity, telling a story fresh off the streets – a 40-ounce of MD 20/20, rather than Rémy Martin. Make that brothel an actual drug-den, ugly and grimy, and turn Christina’s journey into a descent to a lower circle of hell. 

The results often left me feeling second-hand cringe for actors likely better than the film deserves, and relentlessly obliged to play make-believe so hard, to try and sell what’s happening. Meanwhile, the rest of the film seems to be actively trying to sabotage them, courtesy of elements like unconvincing CGI muzzle flashes. Though I was amused by the unexpected recycling of one of Pulp Fiction‘s most notorious lines. Specifically, the one about being a holding location for deceased persons of African-American heritage: it probably works better here, than coming out of the mouth of Quentin Tarantino. But it’s a rare moment where this manages to be other than an embarrassment. Even by the standards of this genre, this is well short of adequate. 

Dir: Shawn Woodard
Star: Shavannahre Brazier, Richelle Merrill, Lakeisha Reynolds, Shawn D. Spearmon Sr.

Women of Devil’s Island

  By

★★★
“Tubi or not Tubi? NOT Tubi.”

I actually ended up watching this one twice. The first time, on Tubi, was one of the worst prints I have ever seen. It was cropped and the color was so washed-out I could barely tell it wasn’t in black and white. However, the film itself was decent enough to get me hunting for a better copy. YouTube for the win: I found on there a glorious ‘scope version, with tints that fairly pop off the screen (compare and contrast) – and fifteen minutes longer, too. It’s a genuinely good-looking movie, and I don’t mean the copious quantities of attractive continental actresses. Well, not just them, anyway. This Italian-French co-production is an early example of the European women in prison genre, here with a historical bent.

An opening caption tell us this takes place at the end of the 17th century. Though that doesn’t quite fit with other elements, which seem around the French Revolution. Regardless, the government ship off their female prisoners to an island near French Guiana. There, they pan for gold, indulge in community sing-alongs and get eaten by alligators. The latest arrivals include Martine Foucher (Mercier), a noblewoman imprisoned for political reasons. There, she’s reunited with her sister, Jeanette (Ranchi), although she has assumed the identity of another, deceased prisoner. It’s a rough life. The only respite is if you sleep with the sleazy governor, Lefèvre (Muller), or his guards. Martine gets involved in an escape attempt, plotting to take some of the gold with them. It does not go well.

However, things look up with the arrival of new prison boss, Henri Vallière (Madison), who is much more compassionate towards the inmates, telling the staff, “They are not here to be tortured”. However, he is an impostor, not actually the naval officer he’s pretending to be. For Henri is a pirate, planning to stage a heist and steal all the gold. So he doesn’t truly care for the prisoners initially, though proves to be a dab hand at wrestling large reptiles. Key word: initially. Naturally, he develops feelings for Martine. This still leaves the inmates unsure of whether to turn Henri in, or throw their lot in with him. 

They eventually decide to fight alongside Henri and his men, in exchange for a shot at winning their freedom. To be fair, this does only occupy a few minutes towards the very end of the film. After Henri’s plan gets revealed, the brisk and entertaining pace the movie had maintained to this point slows considerably. Instead, there’s a bit too much relationship shenanigans: I much preferred the earlier sections, where the women were actively engaged and had agency. For obvious reasons, given this was the early sixties, don’t expect nudity, although there is cleavage, and I concur with another reviewer who noted the similarity of Margaret Rose Kiel to Brigitte Bardot. Better than expected, providing you can find the decent print. 

Dir: Domenico Paolella
Star: Michèle Mercier, Guy Madison, Paul Muller, Federica Ranchi
The good YouTube print is embedded below.

Intuition

  By

★½
“Lost in translation.”

This is a prequel to Argentinian cop movie Perdida, and if I had checked its 2½-star rating before settling into this… I might not have bothered. This struggled badly to keep my interest, I suspect because there are two disparate plots going on, which never manage to mesh satisfactorily. We re-meet (pre-meet?) our heroine, Pipa (Lopilato) as a raw police recruit, who has just been teamed with Grizzled Veteran™ Francisco Juanéz (Furriel). Juanéz has a reputation, both for brilliance and breaking the rules. The latter comes out after his wife is killed in a robbery gone wrong. The person accidentally responsible is barely out of jail when he’s conveniently killed in a hit-and-run accident. Suspicion naturally falls in Juanéz. 

Her bosses want Pipa to keep an eye on her partner and report his behaviour back to them. Meanwhile, she is also investigating the death of an obnoxious young socialite, whom it seems everyone in her circle had a reason to kill. As the two investigations unfurl alongside each other, we discover that there may be more corruption than Pipa was initially informed. Even if Juanéz turns out to have been responsible for the vigilante killing, will justice be served by his partner turning him in? More importantly, and less certain, can the viewer be convinced to give more than the slightest damn about any of the resulting drama? I’m afraid, from my position, the answer to the latter is a resounding “Meh.”

The mere presence of two unconnected plot threads strongly suggests the makers didn’t believe either had enough meat on their bones to satisfy the audience. In a film running 114 minutes, that would appear to be a problem. I’d rather they had simply worked on one or the other, developing it to the point where it was strong enough to sustain the movie on its own merits. As is, each has elements that could be of interest, but it feels as if, whenever they are at risk of engaging me, we immediately jumped to the other thread, losing all momentum. If there had been something new in the characters, this would have helped too. But Juanéz, in particular, is less an anti-hero, than a collection of cop tropes on legs.

I mean, if you can avoid rolling your eyes when it’s revealed Juanéz has an untreated heart condition, you’re a more tolerant viewer than I. Considering this was the first original Netflix movie to come out of Argentina, the results are less than impressive. The titular ability is used whenever the script paints itself into a corner, Pipa and/or Francisco pulling a clue out of thin air, so they can move the investigation forward. I barely could be bothered to summon the energy for an eye-roll by the time the final credits rolled. While there is a third film in the series, Recurrence, a.k.a. Pipa, it will be at least another seven years before I can bothered to review it.

Dir: Alejandro Montiel
Star: Luisana Lopilato, Joaquín Furriel, Rafael Ferro, Delfina Chaves

The Matriarch

  By

★★★
“Puts the F in mother.”

I’m always amused when I check the reviews on the IMDb for a film, and they are almost all “Totally amazing!” or “Worst film ever!”. The former tend to come from the movie’s friends; the latter, from people miffed by the positive reviews, and seeking to counter them. The reality is usually somewhere in the middle, and that’s the case here. Given this was reportedly made for forty thousand dollars – and those are Australian dollars, which right now is about 67 US cents – it’s quite impressive, and certainly doesn’t look low budget, despite a cast of basically three and a single location. However, it’s a film where, if anyone had behaved sensibly, proceedings would have been all over in about ten minutes. 

This is the unfortunate story of Missy (Greenfield), a 13-year-old girl living with her dysfunctional, drug-addicted single mother Annette (Logan). Things go from bad to worse when her super-sketchy boyfriend, Trent (Sparnon), gets out of jail and moves in with them. He has… history with Missy, so she’s immediately on her guard, taking a carving knife to bed with her. Rightfully so, and Trent duly gets the punishment he deserves. Annette is none too happy about this, and decides that Missy needs to be disposed of as well. From here, things escalate relentlessly, as Missy tries to get out of the house of horrors, and her mother tries to prevent this, by any means necessary. Which includes a significantly escalating body count. 

You definitely will have to suspend your disbelief in a number of ways. Firstly, in accepting that Annette’s maternal instincts are so shallow, that her reaction to the situation, is to try and murder her own child. Then, most obviously, Australian cops are dumber than a eucalyptus tree full of koala bears. Because the ones that show up here, behave in a way which isn’t just in defiance of police protocol, it goes against all notions of common sense. There are times too, where it feels like Missy is actively trying to stay in the house, though given her young age, her idiocy is likely more forgivable. This runs through the heart of the film, to a point where it feels almost like a parody.

Fortunately, I didn’t find it too tricky to put aside such considerations and just enjoy the lurid pleasures this has to offer. It feels like an Antipodean cross between The Shining and Home Alone, combining the disintegrating mindset of the former’s antagonist, with the latter’s impromptu attitude to survival tricks. Greenfield is particularly effective, and I found it almost impossible to believe that this was her on-screen debut. She is highly convincing as she gets put through the emotional, spiritual and physical meat-grinder by her own mother. Creighton, also helming his first feature, shows a firm grasp of the basics, and you won’t find much slack present. However, I would suggest Jayden the director fires Jayden the writer for next time – or, at the very least, has a lengthy chat. 

Dir: Jayden Creighton
Star: Juliette Greenfield, Kate Logan, Andy Sparnon

Saint Clare

  By

★★½
“Burned at the stake.”

Bella Thorne’s struggle to appear in a film which reaches three stars on this site, continues unabated. While probably not helped by my tendency to confuse her with Kristen Stewart, that’s five attempts now. Although, for a minute here, I thought this might be the one where she finally cracked it, with a potentially interesting first half. But it could not sustain itself, and as the final credits rolled, and I saw Guinevere Turner’s name as the co-writer… Yeah, it all made sense. I mean, she wrote Bloodrayne. And I’m one of the few people who didn’t utterly hate that. She has… a certain type of script, shall we say, and leave it at that. 

Here, the heroine is Clare Bleecker (Thorne), a high school student – Thorne was 24 when this was filmed, so about that… – recently transferred in from the East coast after the death of her parents. She’s staying with her grandmother (De Mornay), and moonlights as a vigilante. We first see her allowing herself to get picked up by a sketchy driver, whom she strangles and stabs to death. The resulting police interrogation brings her to the attention of Detective Timmons (Phillippe). But Clare is undaunted, and proceeds to look into the string of girls who have gone missing in the town, crimes going back decades which have never been solved. When her friend Julianna (Rovaris) becomes the latest to vanish, Clare decides the time for passive investigation has gone. 

The early stages are, as noted, interesting enough to be intriguing. There’s a nice touch where her conscience is represented by regular visits from the ghost of one of her victims – albeit an accidental one. However, he all but vanishes after she discovers there’s a bigger problem in town than just random scum-bag men, and the film’s issues tend to multiply thereafter. It’s never adequately explained why Clare has gone all Death Wish in her teenage years, or the Joan of Arc inspiration. Perhaps the book on which the film is based, Clare At 16 (or, I guess, at 24), does a better job of that, but without a particular motivation beyond “Men are bad, m’kay?”, the flaws in plotting became increasingly apparent to me.

And others too, apparently: it took three years to get distribution. I do respect Thorne for trying, even if the results have been underwhelming, and would encourage her to keep trying. As I suspect I’ve said before: she isn’t particularly the problem here, so much as the material. There’s an entire thread about Clare trying to get a part in the school play which is spectacularly out of place. But Thorne’s post-Disney career has never exactly been one known for her making good choices: witness the whole OnlyFans debacle. I was more interest in watching Clare operate as a small-town version of Dexter, punishing the guilty while maintaining a facade of normality. The further this went, the more ludicrous this instead became.

Dir: Mitzi Peirone
Star: Bella Thorne, Ryan Phillippe, Joy Rovaris, Rebecca De Mornay

Shero

  By

★★½
“Lifestyles of the rich and attractive.”

Not to be confused with Sheroes – because I know I did – this is a TV series from Singapore, marking the country’s first appearance on this site. So that’s nice. It’s the story of the Zhang sisters, Yin Xi (Wong), who runs an (almost) all-female bodyguard company, SHERO, and her younger sibling, photographer Yin Chen (Peh). While on a job in Australia, Yin Xi is attacked, and disappears: unknown to anyone, she is hospital, having lost her memory. Yin Chen takes over the company, and works to unravel the mystery of why her sister was attacked, with the help of Yue Rui Xiang (Tan), the CEO of a shipbuilding company who is a client of SHERO.

Turns out, there is a lot going on here – as you can imagine, given there are twenty episodes, each around 45-50 minutes long. Fifteen and a quarter hours, in total. So, for example, there’s an eventual connection to the murder of the sisters’ parents, seven years previously, which needs to be addressed. It also feels like SHERO need to ramp up the background checks on their employees, since it feels like all of them have secrets. Or as another example, there’s one worker who was a former drug addict – which is okay, this was known when she was employed. But her mother is a raging alcoholic, now victim to a blackmailer; a situation now seriously affecting her daughter’s work for the company. 

So, really, there’s as much soap opera here as action, with romantic entanglements and family drama very much the order of the day. I was expecting something a little more like Pamela Anderson’s V.I.P. series (which I feel I must get round to reviewing), but this is much more one over-arching story-line across all twenty episodes, with occasional side-plots. Everyone in the show is almost weirdly attractive, and while I get that Singapore is one of the richest countries in the world, this feels almost a promotional video for the country [Makers Mediacorp are a state-owned media company, so that may be a factor]. Certainly, the Australian capital of Canberra gets its product placement in – and they are not the only ones. 

There are some action scenes, mostly martial arts based, though guns seems to end up doing most of the killing. But they’re competent rather than particularly outstanding. The use of both amnesia and multiple personality disorder as plot points is hackneyed, both of these coming and going as the plot requires. Though I was impressed by how unexpectedly bleak the show ends up being. While I might not have made it to the end had I been more actively watching it, it was simply something not too demanding, to distract me while I got my daily exercise in. As such, it filled the gap in my morning regime adequately. Yeah, “adequate” seems like the right word for this overall.

Dir: Chen Yiyou
Star: Joanne Peh, Romeo Tan, Carrie Wong, Nick Teo
The whole series is available with subtitles on YouTube.

Carnage Park

  By

★★½
“Goes off the rails, and not in a good way.”

There’s a very strong start here, and this makes the way it implodes at the end all the more disappointing. The film certainly hits the ground running. It’s 1978 in rural California, and ‘Scorpion’ Joe Clay (Hébert) is fleeing from the scene of a botched bank robbery. His wounded partner in crime is bleeding out in the back seat, and there’s a hostage, bank customer Vivian Fontaine (Bell), in the trunk. But when he pulls off the road to sort things out, freeing Vivian so she can help, we discover there are much worse things in the desert than scorpions. For Joe quickly gets his head blown apart. 

This is the work of completely insane Vietnam vet, former sniper Wyatt Moss (Healy). He lures people off the road, torturing and killing them, because… Well, because he’s a completely insane Vietnam vet. I will not be taking any further questions on the topic at this point. He has the tacit collusion of his brother (Ruck), the local sheriff, though even he has just about had enough of covering up for Wyatt’s madness. Vivian does manage initially to get the jump on the predator. However, she commits the fatal mistake, a common one in horror movies, of not making sure the killer is really dead. And guess what? He is not, leading to an extended chase sequence through the mines on the remote property. 

Which is where the problems occur. Keating mistakenly thinks that having things unfold in near pitch-darkness, save for the occasional flash from a muzzle, somehow enhances proceedings. He is incorrect in this case. Not least because it goes to such an extreme, and for so long, the only evidence I had that my TV wasn’t broken, was the subtitles I had fortuitously left on from the previous movie. When it literally emerges, blinking, back into the light, you get a couple of captions in lieu of a climax, before the end credits roll. I am in no way exaggerating, when I say that it ranks among the worst endings I’ve endured, over the more than twenty years I have been running this site. 

Although the early going is certainly derivative, most obviously of Quentin Tarantino, there’s no shortage of energy and surprises as we move through proceedings. We discover, for example, that Vivian is already having a bad day, and this may be a factor in her eventually having had enough, and fighting back. She staggers through the hellish landscape, encountering other victims – both alive and dead – trying to find a way out or help. Yet she ends up self-sabotaging these hopes, in the most unfortunate of fashions, leaving her entirely on her own. Such a shame the film decides not to give its heroine the finale she deserves, instead burying both it and Vivian in the darkness of an underground mine, and offering no satisfactory resolution to speak of.

Dir: Mickey Keating
Star: Ashley Bell, Pat Healy, James Landry Hébert, Alan Ruck

Circle of Bones

  By

★★½
“More of a semi-circle, really”

For whatever reason, I had a strong sense of deja vu while watching this, but I’ve been unable to track down any record of me having written it up. I may be confusing it with Blood Hunters: Rise of the Hybrids, which had the same director and star, or it may simply be the fairly generic nature of the story. This focuses on FBI agent Karen Wu (Chang), who travels to the Philippines to investigate a human trafficking ring. There, she’s met by local liaison officer Luciana Ramos (Torre), and they gradually uncover that the abductions and disappearances are tied to an occult group overseen by the mysterious Eduardo Vicente (Ignacio).

Originally, he was the leader of your basic hippie commune, until accidentally unleashing an entity known as Yawa, who had been trapped underground for centuries. This took over Eduardo, turned him evil, and started demanding human sacrifices from the surrounding area, the aim eventually being to give Yawa immortality. This is all recounted in flashback by Karen, who was found stumbling around in the jungle, covered in blood and saying “Yawa… Yawa…”.  After a period back in the United States, she has now returned to the Philippines, and the story is gradually prised out of her by local Detective Liz Fajardo (Victoria). She is piecing together the case after an attempted SWAT raid on another occult location goes horribly wrong, with the entire squad being wiped out.

There’s way too much creeping around shadowy facilities here, and there’s also a sense that English, the language in which most of this unfolds, may not be the language of choice for a number of the participants. Chang, I should stress, is fine: however, a number of the supporting cast are on considerably shakier ground. The plot is mostly humdrum and predictable: if you don’t see the big twist at the end coming, from more or less fifteen minutes in, then you need to be paying greater attention. In some ways, it feels like a throwback to the adaptations Hammer Films did of Dennis Wheatley’s Satanist books in the sixties, though this could definitely have used the gravitas of someone like Christopher Lee at its centre.

It is rather more action-oriented, with Chang doing a decent job there, operating both with her bare hands and with various weapons. It helps the cult members have no problem being used as cannon fodder, not least because, thanks to Yawa, death is barely an inconvenience. But it feels like the scope of the whole cult never lives up the early foreshadowing, when there’s talk of millionaires being involved and a hotel complex which has shades of Epstein’s island. I’d have liked a bigger conspiracy to appear, rather than it just being Eduardo and his acolytes. This is interesting only in spurts, and it needs a less cliched plot and some better performances, to wrap around its reasonably well-executed action.

Dir: Vincent Soberano
Star: Sarah Chang, Marella Torre, Jana Victoria, Ian Ignacio

Mary From the Prayer Ward

  By

★★½
“When you order Wynonna Earp on Temu.”

I mean: Stetson wearin’, six-gun shootin’ country gal, on a mission to slay demons, vampires and things that go bump in the West? Yeah, it’s like that. Mind you, there’s a rough start to this, with three minutes of what is likely a top contender for the worst acting of 2026. I guess it’s good to get it out of the way early, and it does make the rest of the cast look like Oscar candidates in comparison. To be fair, Jones is decent enough in the title role. Even when lumbered with some pretty clunky globs of exposition about a 17th-century Satanic cult, she is generally tolerable, and occasionally above that.

Things unfold in the rural Kansas town of Bentley, where a series of gruesome murders is baffling police chief Peaks (Neighill). He seems oddly unaware of the presence in Bentley of Mary, whose parents were fighters of the occult, killed in the line of duty. She now carries on the family tradition, with the help of her blind uncle Hughes (Polk). Naturally, these murders are the work of the unsubtly-named Velkir the Butcher (Smith), who is intent on completing a ceremony originally started in 1690’s Salem. For, y’see, the witch trials there were not hysteria, so much as a carefully-constructed cover-up of the truth, which involved a Satanic plot to raise Hecate. “What’s a Hecate?” asks Chief Peaks. Explanation follows.

It does feel like the structure of the film is a little weird. It’s not until well after the half-way point that Peaks and Mary formally team up, leading to a bit of a gallop towards the obvious confrontation with Mr. Butcher. This partnership requires a diversion, in which Mary takes him on a house call, helping a woman who is reporting strange happening in her home. He blames psychological issues, until she demonstrates otherwise, thereby convincing him of her genuine skill-set. It feels like this should have happened much earlier, to explain the casual way in which this nun is allowed to poke around crime scenes. Well, she’s got a clerical collar on, which seems to demonstrate a loose understanding of religious garb. 

My main issue, however, was the copious use of highly unconvincing CGI, from muzzle flashes and blood spatters, to showers of sparks as the supernatural entities are dispatched. It absolutely took me out of the situation every time I noticed them. Which was every time they appeared. Which was every time anything much happened. Neighill is certainly guilty of trying do much: between writing, directing, editing, co-starring, composing songs, etc. it feels like every other credit is his. But despite a cover pic (above) which makes it look more like Mary from the Special Ed Class, this isn’t worthless. As noted, Jones is an engaging heroine, and Smith’s scenery chewing antics are fun, taken in the right, B-movie way. It’s no replacement for Wynonna Earp. Yet as dollar store knock-offs go, I’ve seen worse.

Dir: Andrew Neighill
Star: Mandy Jones, Glenn Polk, Andrew Neighill, Christopher Thom Smith