★★
“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


With the aid of her helicopter pilot sister-in-law, Sofia goes to the rig after an official rescue mission is rejected. Getting Stian out is just the start. For the oblivious authorities now plan to deal with the massive pollution threat by setting it on fire. [Hey, it is called The Burning Sea after all…] And that may not be the end of their problems either. It is relatively restrained on the destruction: despite that title, the inflammable ocean only occupies a few minutes of screen time. However, it feels considerably more grounded than most of its kind, with a ‘hard science’ basis which gives proceedings plausibility. Obvious disclaimer: I am not a geologist. However, factual accuracy aside, I respect the effort.
This takes place in early 15th century China, when Zhu Di (Zhang) had taken over the throne from his nephew, Wen Du (also played by Zhang), forcing the latter to go into hiding. Zhu is protected by his all-female Imperial Guard, under the leadership of Qing Lian (Xu). Actually, all seven of them have the surname Qing, which confused the heck out of me at first. But it actually makes sense, as they were taken in as babies, and brought up for the express purpose of protecting Zhu Di. Anyway, he gets word that Wen is to be found in a house of ill-repute, and send the Qings after him. Lian is injured in the raid, but her life is saved by Li Gexiao. When she returns to Zhu, however, he’s having none of it and orders her to kill Li, knowing he is actually the dethroned Emperor Wen. Lian opts not to carry out the emperor’s orders, and so the remaining Imperial Guard sisters are sent out by Zhu, to make her pay for her disloyalty.
This is probably a good one and a half stars more than I expected, based on the synopsis and screen shots, which made it seem considerably more like porn with a minor wrestling subplot. Okay, it is not exactly fun for all the family, to put it
Rapace seems to be turning into a female version of Ryan Reynolds. By which I mean, it seems that hardly a month goes past without a new Netflix Original coming out starring her. Ryan had 6 Underground, Red Notice and The Adam Project. Noomi has given us
This one is slightly unusual among action-heroine films, in that it was both written and directed by women: Kirsten Elms and Kari Skogland respectively. Unfortunately, it’s not exactly an advert for their gender; after a brisk start, it falls apart, and becomes a ridiculously implausible movie, in a completely different genre from where it started. That’s a real pity, because where it started, had a lot more potential than where it ends up. It begins with Sage Rion (Manning), a young but highly-talented thief, taking a bet with her partner, as to who can boost a classic car quickest. She picks a 1966 Dodge Challenger, but inadvertently leaves her ID at the scene of the crime.
My first surprise here was that this clocks in at a crisp 44 minutes. That’s an awkward length for any film: too short to be a feature, but most festivals that accept short films will balk at a submission of that length, when the time could instead be used to accept three x 15-minute entries [as someone who runs a festival, this is definitely a consideration]. Quite how this got distribution, I’m therefore not sure; but there it was, sitting on Amazon Prime. However, less than two minutes into the viewing experience, I found myself thanking my stars the running time was so brief. Because this is hamstrung by the worst audio I’ve seen on any film in several years. When even an envelope being opened sounds like a burst of automatic gunfire, you’ve got a problem, and there’s hardly a scene here where this aspect is not bad enough, as to be an unbearable distraction.
I will say, I did actually enjoy this rather more than the rating above indicates. For pure entertainment value, it’s a 3 to 3½-star entity, when watched as a brutal parody of new feminism. The problem is, I don’t think those involved with it were making a parody. As a serious statement about gender, it’s almost impossible to take seriously. Alexandra Nelson (Cotter) is at the end of her tether, when she gets a call that her long-estranged mother is dying. Driving home to pick up the body, she finds it being hustled out the back of the crematorium. Turns out to be part of an organ harvesting scheme, run by the local crime bosses. This gives Alex something to live for, and she begins a one-woman campaign to take down the perpetrators. But that’s a mission which will drag in her estranged sister, bikini barista Jenny (Gately), into peril as Alex’s targets respond to her actions.
It’s probably significant that the opening credits of the film talk about the bands and the whiskey company involved. Any mention of the actual actresses taking part, is relegated to a secondary sequence, 15 minutes into the film. That seems to indicate where the priorities lie: if you told me the whole thing was made up to get freebies and as a showcase for the director’s mates, I’d have no problem believing you. Another warning sign is the way every post-production visual trick you can imagine is thrown in there; this often indicates an attempt to paper over flaws in other areas. There’s no doubt the film is certainly trying. However, Bizarro simply tries far too hard, and it’s not long before it becomes simply trying on the viewer instead.
No-one does low-budget hyperviolence like the Japanese. Whether it’s pseudo-snuff like Guinea Pig: Flower of Flesh and Blood, or more fantastical entries such as