Tag: 2011

Gone (2011)

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★★
“…and quickly forgotten”

If this seems familiar, it’s because we already reviewed the American remake of this Swedish film, Alone, made in 2020. It’s quite rare, in that I don’t often see the remake before the original. It’s usually the other way round, and the remake tends to suffer as a result, often seeming superfluous e.g. Point of No Return. I  carefully avoided reading my opinion of the remake before viewing this, but on a post-watch comparison… it appears I didn’t like either of them very much. They both ended up with the same grade – perhaps for slightly different reasons though. I guess that consistency is slightly better than most remakes, even if it is consistent mediocrity.

Malin (Ledarp) is moving away from the rest of her family after an incident for which she feels responsible, and is driving North, out of the city, with her possessions loaded up in a trailer behind her. However, she finds herself encountering the same driver (Bergqvist) on multiple occasions and gets a bad vibe from him. This feeling is 100% correct, because the man ends up chloroforming Malin. She wakes up in the basement of his very isolated house, in the middle of a Scandinavian forest. Quite what his intentions are is a little vague. But that he says she’s not the first woman to have been there, and that his family thinks he’s on a business trip to the UK, do not bode well for her long-term prospects.

To this point, the film was more or less holding its own. However, the ease with which Malin escaped her captor’s cell, using nothing more than a rusty nail, is likely the point at which the movie jumped the shark. Part of the problem is, it sets a standard of competence, which her subsequent actions – mostly filed under “running round the forest like a headless chicken” – are unable to meet. This is an area where the remake did rather better, it seems, though both films end up going in directions which certainly merited a raised eyebrow or two. Here, she ends up teaming with a passer-by and a hunter in the forest. Nobody’s behaviour makes a great deal of sense.

After so much roaming in the woods, this begins to feel more like an orienteering video, we eventually get to the expected, and long-awaited, confrontation between Malin and the evil patriarchy. She has, by this point, managed to get a message to the outside world, where her absence has been noticed, and the authorities do now have at least an idea of the area in which she’s located. It’s just a question of surviving until they find her. This does a ticking clock to proceedings, which I don’t recall quite being as present in the remake. When it happens, the ending comes with a bang rather than a whimper. Though in this case, that’s not a good thing, as the credits role almost immediately, leaving me once more, largely unimpressed.

Dir: Mattias Olsson, Henrik JP Åkesson
Star: Sofia Ledarp, Kjell Bergqvist, Björn Kjellman, Dietrich Hollinderbäumer
a.k.a. Försvunnen

Ninja: Prophecy of Death

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½
“I know ninjas are supposed to be silent, but…”

To a certain degree, this should be graded as “incomplete”. Easiest to quote the IMDb on the reason why. “This film was to be shelved by director Kabasinski, when post-production had a lengthy delay and he went on to produce the film Skull Forest. Very happy with the improvements in overall production value of Skull Forest, Kabasinski was going to just take this film as a ‘loss’ having already moved forward. It was not until an editor from Buffalo, NY stepped in and expressed desire in taking on the project. Feeling indebted to the cast and crew for the film and post-production going better then expected, Kabasinski decided on releasing the film.”

He shouldn’t have bothered. Because it does the Kabasinski brand-name irreparable damage, due to its terrible quality, in one aspect especially. If this had been fixed, it still wouldn’t have been great – it would remain cheap and amateur. But it would not be in the conversation for worst action heroine movie of all-time, as is the case based on what was eventually released. The story is about an assassin, known only as “The Lost One” (Porada), who is part of a sect of ninjas. On a mission, she balks when she is ordered to kidnap a child. This mutiny is not taken well, and she is left for dead by her colleagues. Naturally, she isn’t, and teams up with some Mafia hitmen (Anthony and Poffo) to get her revenge. 

It’s a basic plot, yet not unworkable, especially when delivered with the director’s enthusiastic fondness for gratuitous nudity and gloopy violence. The low budget doesn’t really matter when you are talking nekkid ninja training. But what irredeemably sinks the movie, and why it should have remained lost (or, at best, a bonus feature on another movie) is the audio. Regular readers will know this is a common complaint I have with smaller productions,  and it’s a personal peeve. I don’t use words like “worst ever” lightly either. So you will understand how much of an issue it is that – bold font, please – this is the worst ever audio I have heard on a released film, bar none.

Seriously, the audio is entirely missing for about half the scenes. No music, no background sounds, nothing. This includes the entire opening credits, which feature Mrs. Kabasinski doing more nude sword work. It almost becomes some bizarre form of art statement, like a throwback to the silent era. Even when it’s present, it is poorly mixed and the dialogue sometimes inaudible. It would probably have worked significantly better had Kabasinski nuked all the audio, turned it b&w, added some intertitles to tell us the plot, and thrown ninety minutes of public domain orchestral music onto it. Instead, what you have is a feature-length demonstration about the importance of the auditory portion to cinema. As well as how worthless a movie can be, when the makers simply cannot be bothered to deliver the materials. 

Dir: Len Kabasinski
Star: Renee Porada, Brian Anthony, Lanny Poffo, Darian Caine

Killing Ruth: The Snuff Dialogues

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★★
“Editing. It’s a choice.”

As soon as I saw the running time of this was one hundred and thirty-one minutes, it immediately went onto the back-burner. I have a busy life, and I’ve going to devote close to two and a quarter hours to a low-budget movie, it is going to be when I have a lot of time to spare. My qualms were obvious, and proved very well-founded. This absolutely had no need to be so long. Indeed, it feels like a first draft, which became a shooting script, and everything filmed then ended up in the end product. Entire scenes are superfluous, and those which aren’t could use between “some” and “an oce-lot” of tightening up.

It’s the story of Ruth Keeley (Huljak), who comes home one day to find her father shot dead in his car. She eventually discovers that he had been a hit-man, working for Rod Porter (Jackson), and ends up following into the family business, as it were. On one job in a hospital, she ends up befriending Mrs. Connors (Wallace), the patient in the next bed to her target, and starts sharing her life with the old woman, who offers zero moral judgement. That includes her relationship with long-suffering boyfriend Cameron (Sanzari), and the quest to find out who was behind the death of her father, and why. Which turns out to be exactly who I expected, from about two hours previously.

The idea at its core is not a bad one. There’s something to be said for the idea of an assassin being plain and unremarkable, allowing them to slide past without attracting attention. Ruth is certainly that, being a waitress until her change in career direction, and Huljak is a good choice. She’s incredibly normal, and about as far from the Luc Besson-style of supermodel hit-woman as you can imagine. I’d like to see a film where we have a hitwoman dealing with everyday issues in between violent killing sprees, such as figuring our taxes, or dealing with annoying neighbours. This, however, is more interested in low-key conversations – and by “low-key”, I mean too many scenes which, to borrow a Python quote, wouldn’t “voom” if you put four million volts through them.

Even Wallace, who brings value to everything she’s in, isn’t able to energize things adequately. Not helping: the film brings in ideas, then discards them again, almost at random. For example, Ruth’s late father shows up and talks to her for a bit, then just… doesn’t. Or she gets a mysterious letter from her father’s killer; an angle which the movie forgets about entirely for a good hour, before bringing it back in, semi-randomly, at the end, to try and achieve closure. Long before that point, this had been reduced to the level of background radiation. It was on, and I was in the same room as it. Much more than that, I can’t commit to. But it definitely fails as action, probably as a thriller, and largely as drama too.

Dir: Nicholas Kinsey
Star: Irena Huljak, Dee Wallace, Kevin Jackson, Patrizio Sanzari

Revenge is Her Middle Name

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★★½
“Junkie. Whore. Mother?”

This is an unashamedly grimy item, whose main character, Cat (Brennan), we first meet turning tricks in a back-alley. She then goes home to her equally addicted boyfriend, Dolph (Schneider), whom she is trying to convince to get her pregnant. Eventually, her mission succeeds, and to provide for their impending child, they rob their dealer. Cat then bails on Dolph, leaving him to take the fall, and gets her act at least somewhat cleaned up, with the help of friend Marilynn (Bellin). Eight months later, however, neighbourhood boss Mutton Chop (Bell), shows up on her doorstep with his thugs, and extracts a particularly vicious form of revenge. Seven further years pass, and Cat is just about back to normal, when the violent behaviour of a man she meets in a bar awakens her inner Ms. 45. She’s soon cutting up his corpse with a hacksaw and stuffing it into garbage bags, then progresses to extracting long-dormant vengeance on her attackers.

There’s no doubt, this wears its grindhouse attitude mostly on its sleeve – except for a strange unwillingness on the part of its lead actress, to take off her clothes. There’s no shortage of gore, certainly, and it’s the kind of film after which you’ll probably want to take a shower. It wallows, unapologetically, in the worst that human nature has to offer. However, that’s as much a flaw as a strength. This kind of film works best – indeed, works at all – when you can feel some sympathy for the protagonist as she goes through hell. Here, that’s not the case. Cat is hardly a nice person, and is perhaps the best argument for forced sterilization I’ve seen in a long time: she hardly seems fit to be a mother, and comes over as an entirely selfish creature. Dolph is no more than a sperm-donor, and she spurns all Marilyn’s efforts to help her, until Cat wants them. The person I feel most sorry for, is her foetus.

The look of the film is considerably more low-fi than the poster, though it’s not inappropriate to the generally scuzzy atmosphere. It could probably have benefited from some trimming, as there are points where things do drag. The actual “revenge” which appears in large, red letter on the promo image, doesn’t arrive until well into the second half. I’d likely have started by editing out the pair of detectives, who serve no purpose at all. This is the kind of movie which needs to keep moving forward in order to hold the audience’s attention, as most of the performances are little more than functional, especially among the cartoonish villains. Credit to Brennan though, for going full throttle into her portrayal. By the end of this, if I was still some way short of liking her character, Cat was someone I’d certainly not want to cross. If I have no interest in seeing this again, I don’t feel as if the time was entirely wasted.

Dir: Anthony Matthews
Star: Lissa Brennan, Douglass Bell, Paula Bellin, Michael Todd Schneider

Sexy Rangers

  By

★★★
“Something mighty morphing in my pants.”

Because what the world really needs, is an all-girl version of Power Rangers, tasting very strongly of cheesecake. That’s what you have here, in a world where women’s breasts are a source of energy. Okay, later on we discover it’s actually male appreciation of women’s breasts that is the true source of power, but let’s not quibble over details. This “pai” energy has been used by Professer Saionji to create a team of five, color co-ordinated heroines, who use their abilities to fight off monsters from other dimensions, sent here under the control of Queen Amorous (Yamada). These “Pai Rangers” are firmly referred to in the subtitles as “Sexy Rangers”, presumably to avoid a cease-and-deist from Saban. Their leader is the Red Ranger, Momiji (Tejima), apparently because her breasts are the biggest. Um, the biggest source of pai energy, I mean. Occasionally, she and her team need to recharge, which is done by flouncing about the beach in bikinis, exploiting the male gaze.

It is, of course, utterly ridiculous and possesses all the production value you would expect, given a budget estimated on the IMDb at 50,000 Yen. Adjusting for inflation and converting to dollars, that’s $480 in 2021 terms. I double-checked no zeroes had gone missing in the process. It does appear largely to have been filmed in car-parks. But I have to say, it’s bright, colourful and energetic, and all stupidity is absolutely in line with the show which is its inspiration. Witness the two main monsters: Unikong, which is an armoured, lance-wielding unicorn, and Camerang, a humanoid camera. Because, why not? Anyway, Queen Amorous kidnaps the Professor’s daughter, ransoming her for a device which can extract the pai energy from the Rangers, weakening them so that her monsters and their (literally faceless) minions can overpower them and take control of Earth. Meanwhile, she’s working at the order of King Muscle, a giant eyeball – again, because why not?

The fight scenes are more or less complete garbage, barely even reaching “I kick in your general direction, you vaguely swing in my postal code” level. But what would you expect when you have five bikini models going up against a giant camera? They clearly are not the point; the director’s choice of camera angles and focal points makes that abundantly clear. Yet it helps that everyone takes it dead seriously; maybe it’s just me, but the hottest woman here is likely evil Queen Amorous, the one who shows the least amount of skin. Not that there’s every anything more than copious cleavage, I should point out. Though I can’t think of many films which feel more like a porn flick, yet fail to contain any actual nudity. As such, the combination of wholesome values (loyalty to friends and family, perseverance, etc.) and fan service is quite conflicting. I would still watch this on a weekly basis. Hell, considering the cost, I’d be prepared to fund a sequel.

Dir: Shinji Nishikawa
Star: Yû Tejima, Yuzuki Aikawa, Jun Suzuki, Yoko Yamada
a.k.a. Big Boob Squad: Sexy Rangers

Appleseed XIII: Tartaros and Ouranos

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★½
“A Herculean labour to get through”

These two features, Tartaros and Ouranos, are an edited-down version of the Appleseed XIII series. This consisted of 13 episodes, each 22 minutes long, with their release beginning in June 2011 and running through the following January. Obviously, if you do the math, you can see that some fairly harsh scissoring was needed to get that down to a pair of 85-minute films. It also loses the obviously episodic nature, with some of the parts intended to be stand-alone. But, if I’m blunt, I think the problems here are considerably more intrinsic. By the end, I was glad I had decided to go with this version; the prospect of sitting through the longer version had little or no appeal at all.

The most obvious problem was the animation style, which managed to combine the worst features of both CGI and traditional animation. The end result is something which looks flat-out ugly, and thus a far cry from creator Masamune Shirow’s original art. For what I can only presume was good reason, the producers decided to have 13 different animation studios handle things, each doing one episode. While they were all clearly working from the same source material, it’s obvious that they were not all equally competent. Especially when compiled together, the decent bits simply make the bad look all the worse; it would probably have been better had it all been bad. As the original 1998 OAV showed, your eyes can get use to limited animation eventually – providing it isn’t frequently been shown anything else.

The other issue is a story which felt, at best, like another warmed-over rehash of previous elements. Oh, look: pro-human terrorists are threatening the peace of Olympus. Yes, again. It also drops in weird elements which made no sense. Did you know Deunan’s mother was African, and was killed while walking across a street reserved for white people? Briareos is also African. I’m not quite sure what woke point writer Junichi Fujisaku was seeking to make with this, also a sharp deviation from Shirow’s material. But it’s so badly-handed as to actively subtract from proceedings, and has aged very poorly over the decade since. A lot of the content is “inspired by” Greek mythology, in particular the 12 Labours of Hercules, to the point it feels on occasion like a SF episode of The Legendary Journeys.

The overall story arc mostly concerns Olympus’s “Ark Project”, which is intended to secure a future for humanity, but is being opposed by the Human Liberation Front, and in particular Deia Chades. There’s also a clash between Olympus and another city-state, Poseidon, which confused the heck out of me, as in the previous version, Poseidon appeared to be a multinational conglomerate. Whatevs. To be honest, it would have been a bit of an improvement if I could have brought myself to care about this, or anything else presented here. Instead, I found myself largely uninterested in the watered-down version of Deunan which we got here – someone who seemed more concerned about getting in touch with her feelings than with kicking ass.

Dir: Takayuki Hamana
Star (voice): Maaya Sakamoto, Kōichi Yamadera, Mikako Takahashi, Hiro Shimono

Jesse

  By

★★½
“Second time around.”

Jesse (Finochio) is a Long Island cop on the edgeTM. Since losing custody of her kids, she has gone into a downward spiral of drinking, casual relationships and taking her anger out on any perps unfortunate enough to cross her path. She has driven her captain (Vario) to the edge of distraction, and is perpetually feuding with her mother and brother. The latter dies in a road accident – only his foot is found! – but when Jesse and Mom go to cash in his life insurance policy, they get a shock. The beneficiary has been changed to be Ralph Sirna (Trentacosta), a notorious local gangster. Suddenly, the accident seems rather less accidental, and nothing – not her boss nor Sirna’s “godfather”, Vince (Forsythe) – will be able to stop her.

If this plot sounds familiar, it’s because this is a remake of the director’s 2001 film, Marie, which we reviewed in November. With regard to the remake, we concluded “Maybe they did better second time around? I’m not inclined to bet on it.” However, while still suffering from obvious flaws, this actually is a palpable improvement. The main reason is the actress playing the heroine. Finochio is better knows as “Trinity,” under which name she wrestled for both the WWE and TNA, and has the necessary physical presence missing in her predecessor. There’s definitely the sense of barely-controlled rage that’s essential for the character, and when she’s barnstorming around, like a mascara’d bull in a china shop, the film proves quite watchable.

The main problem is, in the middle it feels like Carpenter suddenly decided he actually wanted to make Goodfellas instead, with the focus switching to Ralph, and his machinations as he seeks to replace Vince at the top of the organization. It’s not terrible, even if it feels like much of the dialogue was made up on the spot, which is (as is typically the case) a bit of a mixed blessing. It just feels like a pale impression of Martin Scorsese, and it doesn’t stand the comparison. There are also a couple of stunt cameos from obvious “send me the check” actors. Forsythe is less the problem there, even if he could perform this role in his sleep, than Armand Assante, in his one scene as an Internal Affairs officer, or Eric Roberts in two as a barman.

Having seem Marie, there are absolutely no surprises to be had here, least of the all the big one in the final act. I think the best which can be said, is at least there’s an interesting film here, trying to get out – that couldn’t be said for the original. For instance. the script could have given Jesse more of an arc, finishing off with her regaining custody of her children. That’s an event which happens in the middle, as so consequently feels thrown away, rather than the triumphant redemption it could have become. Maybe Carpenter will take another stab at the story: we’re about due, with it being ten further years since this remake came out.

Dir: Fred Carpenter
Star: Stephanie Finochio, Anthony Trentacosta, Paul Vario. William Forsythe

Blind Alley

  By

★★★
“Doing laundry can be murder.”

Wannabe actress Rosa (de Armas) is on the way home from her job as a hotel maid when she gets a message telling her she has a call-back the next day for a final audition. With her washing machine broken, she pops into the local 24-hour laundromat to get her costume all spick and span. It and the surrounding streets are completely deserted, and it’s not long before she’s being menaced by the kind of hulking, silent figure only found in horror movies like this. She’s delighted when hunky co-launderer Gabriel (Cadavid) shows up to rescue her, despite his strange tastes in music. But is he really as nice as he seems?

C’mon, folks. As mentioned, it’s a horror movie. Of course he isn’t. Where would the fun be in that? So it’s no surprise when she spots that his washing appears as much an attempt to get rid of blood-stained evidence as anything. With a dodgy mobile phone, a sister (Diakhate) in peril and a psycho banging on the door, how is Roda going to get through the night? And will she ever get her laundry finished? It’s all entirely contrived, naturally: not just the launderette, but the entire block of this residential neighborhood completely and conveniently deserted, with no-one at all passing by, or even glancing out their window to the unfolding carnage. Maybe triple-pane windows are a thing in Colombia, I don’t know.

Still, it’s an effective portrayal of the loneliness of the big city, and with that as a given, it’s a briskly energetic piece that pits Rosa against Gabriel for most of its duration. She knows she can’t possibly out-muscle him, so has to try and use her wits to survive – and also try to keep her sister, who is back in the nearby apartment, out of harm’s way. Just when that seems to have run its course, the film unleashes a triple-whammy of twists. One character returns; a new one is introduced; and we get to discover the truth about Gabriel (which explains things like his odd taste in music). These are of varying effectiveness – I liked the new character the best, and wished they had shown up earlier. Though your overall reaction may well depend on how you feel about movies which suddenly shift genres.

In this case, it does render what had gone before a bit problematic: given what we eventually discover about Gabriel, I have to wonder why he didn’t kick things off in that direction, a great deal sooner. [You can probably tell, I’m tiptoeing around spoilers] It would certainly have helped avoid a sense that the ending feels rushed: you’ve barely got your brain around what’s started to happen, when the credits roll – just as things were getting interesting. It’s perhaps this which leaves it feeling more like an unoptioned pilot of a TV show, setting the table for a series to come. Though at least it’s one I would be interested in watching.

Dir: Antonio Trashorras
Star: Ana de Armas, Diego Cadavid, Judith Diakhate, Leonor Varela
a.k.a. El Callejón

Bubblegum and Broken Fingers

  By

★★½
“Pap fiction.”

Outside of Kill Bill, I’ve never been a fan of Quentin Tarantino. But this film did give me some appreciation for him. Because it’s only when you see Tarantino done badly, that you realize the aspects he does well. It undeniably takes some skills to keep a story-line involving multiple sets of characters in the air, especially when centered on a Macguffin like a suitcase whose contents are never revealed. Jackson tries to do exactly the same thing here, and the result is, frankly, a mess, where you’re left caring little or nothing about any of the participants.

It starts with two low-level henchmen on their way to make a deal outside Las Vegas, swapping a large quantity of cash for the suitcase in question. This ends with the opposite side dead, and the pair on the run. They come across two German pedophile tourists, who have kidnapped Heidi (Daly) along with a mute girl, Tiny (Tyla). However, turns out Tiny isn’t the innocent she appears, and she takes the suitcase, being part of a all-female criminal cabal herself. They’re being pursued by a variety of law enforcement agencies, who have their own agendas. It’s as if the writer (also the director) had only one solution to any story issues: introduce more characters, rather than developing the ones already present.

It’s the script which is the glaring weakness. The performances are fine, Jackson makes good use of locations in and around Las Vegas, and there’s a particularly impressive sequence told without dialogue. Indeed, having a major participant who can’t speak – except through an electronic text-to-voice synthesizer – is navigated well, when it could easily have been a disaster, bringing things to a grinding halt any time she appeared. But the pattern soon becomes obvious. Introduce some characters. Start to develop those characters. Abandon them, leaving them (in some cases, literally) dead at the side of the road. Rinse & repeat for an hour or so, until your audience can no longer be bothered to care about anyone.

You’re presumably intended to keep your eye on the suitcase. Yet we never learn what is in the case, capable of triggering all the carnage and corpses. How annoying. It could be argued that it doesn’t make any difference. Unlike Pulp Fiction though, it feels as if it matters, because this is clearly the focus of everyone’s efforts, rather than a supporting act to the sideshow, as in the Tarantino film. As we seem to have said quite a lot lately, I suspect this is a result of having the director film his own script, leaving him too close to the project to spot its flaws. Jackson has good technical abilities, and it’s certainly possible to imagine a version of the same story, with the pieces re-arranged, some expanded and others excised, where this became a Bitch Slap-esque gem. Instead, it’s a struggle to pay attention, through an ending that has little to offer except more dead bodies.

Dir: Sean Jackson
Star: Camme Tyla, Mandy Williams, Brenna Daly, Jason Nious

Miss Bala (2011)

  By

★★★
“Beauty (queen) and the beasts.”

Pageants and drug cartels may not seem like topics that combine, but in South and Central America, they’re perhaps closer than you’d think. El Chapo’s third wife, Emma Coronel Aispuro, was a Mexican beauty queen. In 2013, the previous year’s winner of the “Sinaloa Woman” pageant, Maria Susana Flores, was killed in a clash with police. According to USA Today, she “died like a mobster’s moll, carrying an AK-47 assault rifle into a spray of gunfire from Mexican soldiers. Hit below the neck, she dropped into a dirt field and bled to death, her carotid artery severed.” And then there’s the (loose) inspiration for this story: Miss Mexico International 2009, Laura Zuniga, was stripped of the title after being detained on suspicion of drug and weapons violations, in circumstances best described as murky.

The heroine here, Laura Guerrero (Sigman), is portrayed as mostly innocent, or at least a victim of unfortunate circumstance rather than deliberate intent. An aspiring candidate for Miss Baja California (the film’s title puns off this, translating as “Miss Bullet”), her nightclub trip with a friend turns into a more of a nightmare, as it’s the scene of an assault by La Estrella cartel on the DEA officers there. Trying to find out if her friend survived gets her kidnapped by La Estrella’s leader, Lino (Hernández), who decides that Laura can be useful. With her father (Zaragoza) and kid brother held hostage, Laura has little option except to agree. Her tasks will include couriering money across the border, helping uncover a DEA infiltrator within the gang, and acting as a honey trap to ensnare General Duarte, a leading light in the government’s forces.

It certainly shines a harsh light on the whole “narco culture” south of the border, coming over as an uncomfortable mix of telenovela and action film. Which may be the point. The director brings a very static, almost disinterested style to proceedings. The camera sometimes sits fixed, either in front of or behind the characters as events unfold – it feels almost like a video-game occasionally. At other momets, its eye pans slowly across unfolding events, for example gliding down a hallway during a home invasion, or across a beach as an informant is executed. This offers a clinical contrast to the passionate family loyalty driving Laura: her father and brother come first, last and always. Unfortunately, Lino knows that, and it provides an easy key with which she can be manipulated.

Despite the unflattering portrayal, this managed to become Mexico’s official Academy Award candidate, though didn’t make the list of nominees. I’d prefer the heroine to have been more pro-active, rather than the reactive character she is for much of this, though again, I sense this is an entirely deliberate choice, reflecting the lack of control most of the Mexican people have over their fate in this lethal war. Perhaps this is something which will be addressed in the pending Hollywood remake, directed by Catherine Hardwicke – best known for the first Twilight film, though let’s try and not hold that against her – with Jane the Virgin star Gina Rodriguez in the lead. But the previous track record of such remakes, suggests disappointment is probably more likely.

Dir: Gerardo Naranjo
Star: Stephanie Sigman, Noé Hernández, José Yenque, Javier Zaragoza