Asura Girl

★★★
“There will be Blood

This is part of the Blood universe, which previously gave us anime series Blood +: Episodes 1-25 and Blood: The Last Vampire in both animated and live-action versions. That’s small beer compared to the Blood-C segment, which began as a 12-episode anime show, subsequently becoming two manga series, a novelization, a stage play, and three live-action movies. The other two, set in the current day and entitled Blood Club Dolls 1+2, aren’t of interest here despite their title (and aren’t very good), since at least the first only includes a brief cameo by Saya, the heroine of the series. Her role here is considerably more substantial, and it’s basically a better production all round. Not least because most of it works reasonably well with no prior knowledge.

It takes place not long before the outbreak of World War II, in a small rural village, plagued by a series of mysterious deaths. Brutal military policeman Amakatsu (Furuta) is charged with investigating, blaming local communist sympathizers. However, two elements suggest otherwise. Firstly, the arrival of Saya Kisaragi, member of a vampiric race called the ‘Elder Bairns’, who hunts her own kind. Then there is the contraction of a mysterious blood-based disease of Ran (Aono), the sister to village resident Ren (Matsumara). He encounters Saya when she meets a police squad, and tries to rescue her. If you’ve seen any of the entries linked above, you’ll know that she isn’t a character exactly in need of rescuing.

Wisely, the film doesn’t stretch out the “who” aspect of the mystery, since it’s not exactly hard to guess. The “why” does turn out to be a bit more unexpected, and at the end, there are a few moments where it does feel like some familiarity with the world in which it works would be helpful. Generally though, it’s fine as a standalone piece. I would have liked to have seen more of Sana in action: after taking on the police, she takes a back seat to Ran and the struggles of the village to convince Amakatsu they’re not better off dead than red. However, it certainly qualifies for the site, with some solid sword-fights at the end, which make up for in very enthusiastic, crunchy sound design, what they may lack in explicit gore and impalement.

Outside of Sana, it is a bit bland in terms of characters. Ran doesn’t make much of an impression and, until the final third, neither does his sister. There were points where this reminded me of a Hammer film, albeit one obviously set in a different time and place, with the concept of a small village plagued by a terrible evil. Twins of Evil might be the closest, as it also had a strong authoritarian figure (played by Peter Cushing), who was correct about the presence of evil – just terribly wrong in regard to its source. Amakatsu doesn’t have anything like the same arc, though this remains a considerable improvement, in most ways, over the contemporary live-action film.

Dir: Shutaro Oku
Star: Ryūnosuke Matsumura. Kanon Miyahara, Kaede Aono. Arata Furuta 

Jeannette: The Childhood of Joan of Arc

★★½
“Joan of Arc: The Musical”

I initially intended to review this and its sequel, Jeanme, by Dumont as one entity, for a couple of reasons. They really only work as a single item. This confused the hell out me, because the second film turned up on a streaming service by itself. Five minutes in, I was so confused, I started searching the Internet, only to find I had, in effect, joined a movie already two hours in progress. Also, I suspected I would be hard-pushed to deliver 500 words on each of these. I’m not saying they’re slow-paced, but you’d overtake them riding a glacier. The first 90 minutes is basically Jeannete (Prudhomme when young, Voisin when older) standing around sand-dunes, looking after her sheep, with the occasional religious debate or vision. Three years pass here, in the blink of a caption.

Yet, here we are, since there are still topics to discuss. For example, I forgot to mention: it’s a musical. Yep, full-on songs and everything. Though not exactly contemporary to the 15th century. There’s rap. There’s rock. There’s a head-banging pair of nuns, who often speak their lines together, like a clerical version of the Mothra Twins. Now, I guess this kind of thing can work. Hamilton was very popular, though let the record show, I couldn’t sit through it. This is… Well, I can’t say it wasn’t interesting to watch. Though the overlap between “interesting to watch” and “never want to see again” has rarely been so resoundingly demonstrated. It’s apparently an adaptation of a play, The Mystery of the Charity of Joan of Arc, written in 1910. No clue if that had songs or not.

I’m really not sure what the intent here was. From what I’ve read, it seems to have been trying to recapture the spirit of naivety found in medieval passion plays, using non-professional actors. Sometimes this works, sometimes it doesn’t: the scenes featuring rapper Durand Lassois as Jeanne’s uncle are excruciating. Yet there are moments where, Voisin in particular, captures the serious intensity necessary. Do they justify the endeavour as a whole? I’m far less certain. Though matters were not helped by the distribution company going with white, unaliased subtitles that are often entirely illegible, given the variety of white backgrounds: sand, nuns’ habits, sheep, etc. Perhaps that simply was intended to add to the mystery of it all.

Even as an eight-year-old, this Jeanne seems deeply concerned about the Hundred Years’ War against England, which has been going on for far longer than she has been alive. But when three saints (at least somewhat restrained in their dance moves) show up, she doesn’t exactly leap into action. That’s when we get the three year caption mentioned above, and even further visions have her reluctant to leave her family. In the end, she bids them farewell, makes arrangements for her sheep, and hops on a horse to head off with her uncle in the direction of Orleans, and the second movie. That’s two hours of my life I’ll never get back. Though I didn’t exactly have other plans…

Dir: Bruno Dumont
Star: Lise Leplat Prudhomme, Jeanne Voisin

Betsy

★★
“Dog People”

On her way home one night, Betsy (Ryan) is attacked by a mystery assailant and badly injured. While she recovers, she’s traumatized by the events, with nightmares that even her attendance at a support group can’t help. She is also increasingly plagued by violent outbursts against her supportive but increasingly concerned roommate Kayte (Osborne), and physical changes. If you are at all familiar with horror movies, you’ll know the symptoms: Betsy’s attacker was a werewolf, and she’s now in the process of becoming one. This throws a spanner in her growing relationship with Sam (Miller), made worse because he’s a policeman, investigating the recent spate of “animal attack” murders around town.

There’s seems to be a strong inspiration from Paul Schrader’s remake of Cat People here, not least in that it’s sexual activity which seems to bring out the beast in Betsy, rather than the phase of the moon. Her first transformation occurs after a sexual assault, and another after a session of love-making with Sam. It’s never quite clear whether she needs, as in Cat People, to kill in order to regain her human form: there’s no-one here who can tell her the rules by which she is now operating. Indeed, nor is it clear what happened to her original attacker, who seems to infect her, then leaves the film entirely. But this will suffer in any comparison with Cat People. With all respect to Ryan, she’s no Nastassja Kinski, and its transformations are far superior. Sure, that had a much bigger budget: it also predates this by 35 years.

This isn’t entirely without merit, though it is definitely in the slow-burn category – we’re about half-way through before the heroine’s feral instincts properly kick in. In fact, the best thing about this might be the scene tucked away in the (lengthy – after all, there are 28 producers of one kind or another to thank!) closing credits, in which we discover that Betsy is no longer alone. I definitely wanted to see where it might have gone from there. Trimming minutes from her early group therapy sessions, etc. would have offered scope to develop that, and helped this feel more like its own beast, if you see what I mean.

However, I’ve definitely seen far worse low-budget horror. Director Burkett also wrote and edited this, and seems to know where to point the camera and how to capture audible sound. These are skills not to be pooh-poohed in the field, and it’s also to his credit that the film usually is aware of its limits, and doesn’t over-stretch itself. An interesting twist is using a different actress to play Betsy, post-transformation. perhaps making this also influenced by another horror classic, Dr. Jekyll. While the flaws here are too hard to ignore, there are quite a few positives as well, and I’m interested in seeing what Burkett could do with a larger budget, and perhaps a more original idea.

Dir: Shawn Burkett
Star: Erin R. Ryan, Josh Miller, Marylee Osborne, Justin Beahm

Spoor

★★★
“Call of the wild”

Janina Duszejko (Mandat) is a former engineer, who now lives in a small rural Polish town. She has a deep love of nature and animals. This is a belief not shared by many of the local population, who treat animals as a resource, put there for their benefit – an attitude which brings them into conflict with Duszejko. After her two dogs disappear, she goes to the authorities, but they blow her off. However, the man she suspects most, turns up dead – just the first in a series of mysterious deaths, that may be related to Jaroslav Wnetzak, a local businessman with a finger in a number of shady pies. Subsequent corpses include the police chief, who owes Wnetzak money.

With the help of Dyzio (Gierszal), an IT consultant working for the police, Duszejko is able to investigate things. She also begins a romantic relationship with visiting Czech entomologist Boros Schneider (Krobot), after he discovers Wnetzak’s body in the forest, months after the businessman had disappeared. Things come to a head when Duszejko is arrested following the death of the mayor, having been the last to have seen him alive. But what exactly is going on? Is this those shady business dealings gone wrong? Or are the animals taking revenge on those who have hunted them? While I can’t say much more, you can probably get some kind of hint to the situation, simply from the fact that it’s being reviewed here. And perhaps the poster.

Holland is a veteran director, with over 40 years of features in her native Poland, plus episodes of US shows including The Wire, The Killing and House of Cards. You can tell, since this is confident and assured, as well as providing some truly beautiful and atmospheric shots of the countryside, imbuing it with a mystical quality. Animals loom out of the mist, almost like prehistoric creatures [hey, wild boar were driven extinct in Britain during the 1600’s], and the humans may not be that much more evolved. The lines are deliberately blurred at a couple of points, such as in Wnetzak’s brothel, where the women are dressed as cats, bunnies, etc. or at a costume ball which Duszejko attends as the big, bad wolf.

She makes an interesting character: clearly smart, yet her fierce devotion is certainly a weakness, and perhaps her undoing, especially when the police, etc. blow her concerns off.  However, at 128 minutes, there feels too much slack. The subplot involving the entomologist in particular, seems to bring things lurching to a halt in the middle, just when the mysterious deaths ramp up, and should begin driving things forward. I’d have moved this element towards the beginning, part of establishing Duszejko’s character. It doesn’t serve any essential part in the main plot, requiring it to be in the position where it takes place. However, the majority of the film still works, and represents a thought-provoking and well-crafted entity for the majority of its length, that does a decent job of mixing in its message.

Dir: Agnieszka Holland
Star: Agnieszka Mandat, Patricia Volny, Jakub Gierszał, Miroslav Krobot

Confessions of a Homicidal Prostitute: Demonatrix

★½
“Nice title. Shame about the film.”

I must confess I have not seen Confessions of a Homicidal Prostitute, to which this is a sequel. It’s marginally possible, I suppose, that the character development, story and nuance were present there, and explain why these are all but entirely absent in its successor. I would not, however, be prepared to bet on it. I suspect the original was every bit as mean-spirited as this: and “suspect” is all I’ll ever do, because I won’t be making any effort to track it down. In fact, I probably wouldn’t watch it if my aged mother begged me to on her death-bed. Too harsh? Perhaps. Yet I don’t think I’ve ever seen a flat-out uglier film, in terms of largely repellent people being extremely unpleasant to one another, shot in a way that exacerbates its grimness. In its defence, that may be the point. Again: may. It could also just be torture porn of the lowest-rent kind.

From what I can gather, Lilith (Baun) is the titular hooker; I’m not sure if the weird contact lens she wears in one eye is a tribute to Christina Lindberg and her eye-patch in Thriller: A Cruel Picture? Anyway, she apparently got pushed over the mental edge by abuse, and responded to violence with violence. Here, she introduces gal pal and fellow prostitute Eve (Shenk) to the lair where Lilith carries out her torture and slaying. Eve is remarkably blasé about the whole, potential “accessory after the fact” thing, and politely declines to get involved, saying “I don’t think I could stomach it… Not for me!” This reluctance lasts about 30 minutes into the film, where she gets brutalized by the vicious Jackson (McGinnis). All of a sudden, she’s rather more gung-ho, a tendency encouraged by Lilith (“The empowerment you feel after you kill this bastard, will be indescribable”). After initially both being caught and tortured by Jackson, the pair are able to turn the tables on their captor, taking their revenge and sodomizing him with a metal pole.

They then begin a two-woman killing spree, washing the scum off the streets. There’s a montage sequence here, which is quite effective, and rescues the film from receiving the dreaded one-star rating. But otherwise, we’re dealing with content which is cheap and poorly-executed, and possesses little or no emotional impact at all. Weirdly, given the topic and grindhouse-oriented title, the only nudity present is extremely fake penises being abused. Otherwise, it’s remarkably chaste. Though, to be honest, I’m fine with the lead actresses keeping their clothes on. No worries there. I’m good. With special effects that are largely unconvincing, this doesn’t even work as a gore flick, and there’s no sense of development of plot or characters. I got to the end with no sense of.. well, anything. I was neither entertained, educated or appalled. Overall, it’s the kind of film where I wonder if I’ve spent more time writing this review, than was actually spent making the movie.

Dir: Emir Skalonja
Star: Casey Baun, Krystal Shenk, Paul McGinnis, Richard Ruiz

The Queen of Hollywood Blvd.

★★★
“Mary, Mary, quite contrary.”

This is definitely not your typical action heroine. For it’s Mary’s (Hochschild) 60th birthday when the events of this film unfold. She runs a long-running strip club on the titular location, when Duke (Smith) spoils the party, by demanding she hand over ownership of the establishment, to settle a loan taken out decades earlier. Mary isn’t having any of it, and when Duke’s lackie Punk Rock Charlie (Berkowitz) shows up to take over, she beats him up and leaves him for dead in the Bronson Caves – which, as the film helpfully tells us, was used as the Batcave for the Batman TV series. But Duke is ahead of her, and has kidnapped Mary’s son. To free him, he demands she do another job: kill an accountant who is being too talkative for Duke’s liking. 

Unfolding over the course of a single day, there are some interesting elements to this, yet it’s very definitely a mixed bag. Not least among the former: the director is Hochschild’s son, and also plays her son in the movie. She is probably the film’s strongest card; in virtually every scene, without a good performance, this could well have been unwatchable. She puts over a proud, fiercely independent character, who refuses to compromise her morality. We see this early, when she rescues underage Grace (Mulvoy-Ten) from the pimp trying to sell her. Yet she has no qualms about later using Grace to get to the accountant, because her son is simply more important to her. It makes for a fascinating character, one not often seen on-screen among women her age.

Less successful is… Well, a lot of the other stuff. The supporting characters, in particular, rarely rise above a series of clichés. [I’ll give an honourable pass to cult star Michael Parks, in his final role before passing away, even if he does look like death not very warmed up] The pacing is also off, especially at the end, where 45 seconds of action takes about 10 minutes to unfold, thanks to some extraordinary languid dialogue, plus Oblowitz’s love of slow-motion and the glaringly obvious. I mean, did we really need to have her friends cart a throne into the strip-club for Mary to sit on, purely to emphasize the title?

A number of other reviews have compared Oblowitz’s style to Nicolas Winding Refn, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s not a good thing. There are times when I had to suppress an urge to make a “hurry up” gesture towards the screen. Considering her son had been kidnapped, Mary’s lack of urgency seemed questionable, especially when it seemed to be for no other reason to allow Oblowitz his directorial flourishes. The strength of Mom’s performance renders the flashier elements superfluous, and they may even take away from it. Oh, not that it matters, but I strongly suspect the exterior of the club is actually “played” by legendary strip-club Mary’s in Portland, which at one time employed Courtney Love.

Dir: Orson Oblowitz
Star: Rosemary Hochschild, Ana Mulvoy Ten, Roger Guenveur Smith, Matthew Berkowitz

Hollow in the Land

★★★
“Hollow, I must be going…”

This feels like a Canadian version of Winter’s Bone; not that there’s anything necessarily wrong with this, it just results in a slight sense of deja vu. The Miller siblings are already pariahs in their small town. Their mother walked out on them, and father went to jail for a car accident which killed the son of the local sheriff. Brandon has become a teenage delinquent, whom his sister Alison (Agron) is trying to keep from going off the rails entirely. And she’s a lesbian, so isn’t exactly popular either. After the father of Brandon’s girlfriend turns up dead, he vanishes, becoming suspect #1. Alison can’t believe he’s that bad, so goes looking for him. In the process, helped by a sympathetic deputy (Ashmore), she begins to uncover a lot of unpleasant secrets – things the town would much prefer stayed buried.

For the majority of this, it likely fell short of qualifying for the site. Alison has an undeniable persistence, certainly, and her unwavering loyalty to her brother is also laudable. However, the closer she gets to the truth, the greater the importance of physical action becomes. The likely turning point comes when she is out in the woods, and comes across the body of someone who has been shot. The shooter is still nearby, and has Alison in his sights. Thereafter, following an amusing encounter with a pair of female marijuana growers, it becomes clear that talk is no longer getting it done, and it’s time for her to take action. Anyone who says, “Violence isn’t a solution” won’t be happy with the results. But that’s why the film is getting reviewed here!

It’s a very good performance from Agron, who takes a spiky character and makes her easy to like and root for. Alison is someone to whom life has not dealt an easy hand, yet she still persists in trying to do the right thing, in particular towards Brandon. It would certainly be easier, and perhaps even justifiable, for her just to throw up her hands and walk away, leaving him to the consequences of his actions. That unrelenting sense of family is the reason I applied the “mother” tag to this one, even though she’s his sister.

My main issues are likely to do with the plot, which seems to have a number of weaknesses. The biggest one is the identity of the actual murderer. Their motivation fell some way short of feeling compelling, and as a result, their actions seemed more contrived, than flowing naturally out of their situation. There’s also a certain repetitive approach, especially in the front two-thirds, up until the woods incident mentioned above. Seeing Alison approach other residents, and get told to go away, in less polite terms, does get a bit old. And, for Canada, there seem to be a lot of guns around… However, Agron’s performance is enough to hold together this slice of small-town noir, and makes it worth sticking around for the (likely inevitable) bloody finale.

Dir: Scooter Corkle
Star: Dianna Agron, Shawn Ashmore, Rachelle Lefevre, Michael Rogers

Candy

★★★
“Houston, we have a problem…”

You’ll probably understand why that cover picture got me to pause my casual scrolling through Amazon Prime. Well played, movie producers. Well played… Likely inevitably, the film didn’t quite live up to the advertising, mostly due to a significant lack of plot. The film barely runs 65 minutes, before we get to a sloth-like end-credit crawl, and there’s probably not enough story-line to fill a music video for one of the gangster rap songs which pepper the soundtrack. Yet, in terms of atmosphere and setting, it feels authentic. I can’t state with certainty it is, never having been a) to Houston, b) black, or c) involved in large-scale criminal enterprise. But in cinema, feeling authentic is a large part of what matters.

Candy (Adams) can check all three of those boxes, being in charge of an urban Texas group whose business is apparently equally involved in drugs, and robbing others in the same line of work. She’s rather hands-on: with three other women, including her cousin, Dody (Caliste), they go invading homes, and the residents usually come off very much the worse for it. Though sadly, those exploits aren’t the main focus of the film. Indeed, it’s kinda hard to say what is. Most of it seems occupied with a series of vignettes; narrative drive is very much secondary, though these episodes are good at portraying the two sides of a criminal life: both the glamour and the brutality.

For instance, there’s a scene where the women go into a convenience store and Candy shoots the breeze with the owner, an OG called Mr. Mack (played by rapper Bun B), who’s now retired from the game to become a shopkeeper. Though Cody does meet someone significant there, in terms of the film, it’s not very important. However, it’s just a nice exchange, and the film has a number of others. They’re rarely dull, and it generally avoids getting bogged down in cliche. Eventually, we do find out that corrupt cop Soso (Smith) is planning to take out Candy and her crew, as they prepare that mainstay of gang films: a big score. In this case, shipping tons of drugs to St. Louis.

It’s just a shame the plot hadn’t been there from the beginning. Perhaps I’m too used to my narconovelas, which go to the other extreme, arguably cramming in too much. But even the way in which the climax here is resolved, is rather unsatisfying, relying on what feels like a bit of a cheat, and being based on information withheld from the audience. It’s a shame, as the framework is in place for something better than most of these urban films I’ve seen, such as Jack Squad or the cinematic hell which was Hoodrats 2. On the basis of this, how Candy came to be where she was, for example, might have been a more interesting story than what she did once she got there.

Dir: Nahala Johnson
Star: Sheneka Adams, Gina Caliste, Kendrick Smith, Jessica Kylie

Cheerleader Karate School

★½
“Uffie the Poverty Row Slayer”

When I first put this on, and saw it was only 41 minutes long, I thought there had been some kind of mistake. 41 minutes later, it was clear the mistake had been all mine. Additionally, I was now thoroughly grateful for the abbreviated running-time. A feature length edition would have constituted cruel and unusual punishment, and may be forbidden by the Geneva Convention. This blatant Buffy the Vampire Slayer knock-off is missing only two things: a budget, and everything else.

Keegan Fox (Dobozy) has just moved to the town of Denton, Texas, with her mother who is separated from her husband. Barely has she arrived at the new school before trouble finds her, Keegan becoming involved in a brawl between two other pupils, Tyesha (Adams) and Fi (Covina). The fight ends just after an unexpected surge of energy comes out of Keegan, but not quickly enough to save her from getting put in detention. She discovers her school-mates are part of the titular group, being tutored in martial arts by a local sensei, and keeping the town safe from supernatural baddies. One of whom has just shown up, sporting long, curly hair and a white shirt – basically the absolute cliché of vampire Eurotrash. A good first test for Keegan’s new-found powers then.

Though I’m not prepared to swear 100% to any of the above, because roughly half the dialogue here is flat-out inaudible. Seriously, this is the worst audio I have heard in anything with supposed “professional” aspirations, in a very long time. There are conversations where one side is adequate, and the other sounds as if it were recorded through a mattress at the bottom of a well. It’s so thoroughly inept, this sole aspect is sufficient to overshadow any positive aspects. There is no way you can possibly enjoy a show when you are perpetually adjusting the volume on the remote and/or rewinding to try and make out what was said.

Not that the other aspects are great shakes. The pilot episode tries to introduce too many characters beyond Keegan, and as a result, most of them have little or no impact. The sole exception was “social media guru” Brice (Christine Rejcek), who is more interested in getting Instagram likes and creating hashtags than defeating dark forces. #PerkyChicksAndRoundhouseKicks. This was an amusing idea, particularly compared to the rest of the script which largely seemed to be ideas stolen from other, better shows. Of all the girls, only one (maybe two at a stretch) even look as if they’ve ever been in a fight. If the safety of the world really depended on these five, we are in deep trouble.

It’s entirely explicable that this never went further than the pilot episode (which is now on YouTube, should you have forty minutes with absolutely nothing better to do). From what I can see, the creator has switched to the medium of comics, and ran a successful Kickstarter campaign to fund it earlier this year. Makes sense: sadly, this is a case where going back to the drawing board makes sense.

Dir: Bj Lewis
Star: Summer Dobozy, Timylle Adams, Gabriella Corvina, Kalei Lozano

Six Hot Chicks in a Warehouse

★★
“#TechnicallyTheTruth”

There are indeed, six reasonably attractive ladies here, and they do indeed spend most of the film in a warehouse. Can’t argue about that. The problems, unfortunately, are numerous, and start with the fact that 6HCiaW is not, in itself, a concept sufficient to sustain a feature. The half-dozen women in question are models, hired by moderately creepy photographer Adrian (Malam), for what he announces will be his final photoshoot before retiring. Which is a bit odd, since he looks no older than thirty. Whatevs. Unfortunately, after he overhears the models making fun of him, Ade goes a bit loopy – a situation not helped by the steroid-like substance “Pump ‘n’ Gro'” which he has been ingesting. So he locks the models up in cages, injects them with the same stuff, and makes them fight each other inside an electrified cage. As you do.

It’s a concept with appeal, especially for this site, and more or less as soon as I saw the cover, this went right into our “pending” pile. However, there was still caution. I’ve been burned on multiple occasions by films with great titles which fail to live up them. For every one that does, e.g. Hobo With a Shotgun, there are ten Assault of the Killer Bimbos. This, sadly, falls much closer to the latter, not least because it takes for-freakin’-ever to get to the stuff we want to see. We’re half way through the movie before anything of action substance happens, save for lead model Mira (Messenger) getting accosted on the way to the shoot. To get to that point, you have to sit through not one, but two interminable sequences of Adrian taking photos. Maybe when I was 12, that slice of cheesecake might have been of interest. But now, even 12-year-olds have Internet access, and this can only be called weak sauce, and tedious padding.

When the fights eventually break out… Well, credit editor Justin Black for doing the heavy lifting, because it’s largely only through his talents that the action has any significant impact. Messenger and her tattoos kinda look the part, and veteran model Ana (Crossen) has an attitude which passes muster. But I’d be hard pushed to say any of the actresses here had actual combat experience or skills. It’s much the same problem which sank Kiss Kiss, and is where Raze worked so well. If you’re going to focus so much of your film’s energy and running-time on hand-to-hand battles, you had better make damn sure those involved can deliver. Here, they really can’t, and outside of one rather nice impalement, there isn’t enough gore or nudity to justify your interest on a purely exploitational level. There certainly isn’t the plethora of guns depicted on the cover. I think there might be one. And it shoots someone only by accident. [Hey, it’s British. We don’t do firearms.] There is, however, a cricket-bat, in what I’d like to think was a loving nod to Shaun of the Dead

Dir: Simon Edwards
Star: Jessica Messenger, Oliver Malam, Sabine Crossen, Jade Wallis