Reign of Chaos


“Future schlock.”

There are spells where I find myself going through a stream of mediocre movies, wondering when I’ll see something genuinely good. Then, I stumble into the likes of this, which leaves me yearning for the heady delights of mediocrity. It was in trouble right from the start, with five minutes of opening voice-over that did nothing but leave me confused. Then again, if your story requires five minutes of opening voice-over in the first place, you should probably rethink your storytelling techniques. The same could be said for a post-apocalyptic scenario in which food is in short supply, yet black pleather cat-suits are apparently easily available, in a range of sizes to fit all needs.

A plague has swept the land, turning the bulk of the population into flesh-eating “Joiners”. That is not the worst of it. For it turns out, Chaos is harvesting souls to usher in an unending period of unimaginable torment. Perhaps one where pleather cat-suits might be slightly difficult to come by. Humanity’s sole hope is the three descendants of the Greek goddess Nike: Nicole (Finch), Lindsay (Wood), and Alina (Di Tuccio). They are brought together under the tutelage of Rhodri (Cosgrove), trained in the arts of battle and sent off to face Chaos in their pleather cat-suits. He turns out to be a pasty-faced baldie, like Voldemort with a nose, though the final battle is so underwhelming you may wonder if the final reel went missing.

Let me be clear: there is hardly an element of this which reaches even the level of semi-competent. The most obvious flaw is a world, supposedly collapsed into anarchy and… dare I say it, Chaos, which looks utterly indistinguishable from our current one. Lawns are well-maintained, there is not a broken window is to be seen, and the neighbourhood even has a well-stocked boxing gym open. It’s truly the least convincing apocalypse ever. Into this fit our trio of heroines, who are, similarly, the least convincing saviours of the world ever. Their combat skills are negligible, and I have to assume they were cast solely for their ability to wear a pleather cat-suit (something I allow they do better than I could). Admittedly, their performances are not exactly helped by having to deliver laughable lines, such as, “Goddess power, bitch!”

The above is written as someone who has watched and, indeed, made his fair share of poverty-row cinema. The number one rule of this is: just because you can write it on the page, does not mean you can film it. You need to be permanently aware of the limitations which your lack of resources impose, and operate within them. The makers here seem to have no such idea, writing their way into a corner which a hundred times their budget would have struggled to escape. Ambition is laudable. This instead plays like a child in a cardboard box making “Vroom! Vroom!” sounds, and does not a Ferrari make.

Dir: Rebecca Matthews
Star: Rebecca Finch, Rita Di Tuccio, Georgia Wood, Peter Cosgrove

My Day

★★½
“Where the streets have no name.”

Sixteen-year-old Ally (Smith) is living her life very much on the fringes of society. Coming from a broken home, she is now homeless on the streets of London, relying on the dubious charity of questionable friends. Though Ally does have her limits as to what she’s prepared to do, she has no issue with occasional bits of work, delivering drugs for dodgy couple Carol and Gary. It’s this that gets her into trouble: a job goes wrong, after the customer tries to rape her, and Ally flees – without either the drugs or the money. Carol and Gary are bad enough. Yet even they live in mortal fear of their boss, Eastern European gangster Ilyas (Adomaitis). He wants his merch back – and Ally, as interest, for sale to his sex trafficking friends.

Ally ends up in Ilyas’s clutches, increasingly strung out on heroin. Luckily, help to escape comes from a couple of unexpected sources. First is Carol and Gary’s son Kevin (Jackson), who has bigger plans outside the estate on which he currently lives. Then there’s old age pensioner Frank (Kinsey – whom I remember from close to fifty years ago, playing a soldier on classic Brit-com, It Ain’t Half Hot Mum!), who has befriended Ally for his own reasons, is concerned by her sudden absence, and sets out to track her down. Are either of them prepared to cope with someone as morally bankrupt and brutally violent as Ilyas?

This is likely a fringe entry here, considering Ally spends much of the time lying on a squalid mattress, off her head. Yet there are likely just enough moments to qualify, and she has absolutely no aversion to using violence herself when necessary – beyond what any of her male allies can deliver. Although Ally is not a particularly likeable character, there is still enough of a moral code that I did find myself eventually warming to her. The problems here are more in the other cast members, who largely appear to be single-note descriptions, e.g. “kindly old codger,” with the actors not apparently given enough information to flesh them out by first-time feature director Miiro.

I did appreciate a slightly different view of London from the one often shown. Not least, it unfolds on the Western edge of the city, rather than the inevitable go-to when film-makers want to show deprivation, the East End (with an occasional foray Sarf of the river Thames!). Not that it looks notably different: still, it’s the thought that counts. The script somehow manages to end up both a bit too neat, and simultaneously leaving too many loose ends, which may be a result of this being an expanded version of the director’s earlier short. To be honest, it feels fractionally too earnest, in a Ken Loach kind of way, even if depicting a world where everyone is, to some extent, embedded in criminal culture. I suspect that was not the intended point, however…

Dir: Ibrahim Miiro
Star: Hannah Laresa Smith, Mike Kinsey, Karl Jackson, Gediminas Adomaitis

A Serial Killer’s Guide to Life

★★½
“Too politely British for its own good.”

Lou Farnt (Brayben) is stuck in her life, with a dead-end job, no apparent friends to speak of, and still living with her domineering mother (Ball). She seeks escape from one self-help guru after another, spending her money on their books, DVDs and audio-tapes, though with little or no apparent positive results. Then, she meets the unconventional Val Stone (Roe), who lives in a seaside caravan and promises to change Lou’s life forever. After some qualms, she agrees to depart with Lou, who does indeed deliver on her promise. For, as the title suggests, Val is a psychotic if smart killer, who is specifically targetting those same gurus. Either she regards them as a curse on humanity with their vapid schemes, or she simply wants to dispose of the competition.

It seems clear that writer-director Roe holds a strong, likely personal grudge against self-help tutors, in order to create a movie which is largely based on showing their flaws, and then killing them off. This isn’t a cause I particularly care about: if not my cup of tea, I’m sure some people find them helpful. So this naturally limited my buy-in to the concept here. Kill off social media “influencers,” reality TV celebrities or Los Angeles Dodgers fans, and I’d be right there with you. Motivational speakers? Meh. It is somewhat amusing how naive Lou is, in regard to Val’s extra-curricular activities, and how long it takes her to realize she is taking life advice from a psychopath.

When she does, her reaction is little more than a shrug, admitting it feels quite empowering to kill. The movie really needs to buy into this concept considerably further, rather than gently nodding its head. The likes of Killing Eve have shown even we British can engage in a gleeful embrace of the darker side of things. The script here is simply too gentle for the subject matter, not least with much of the violence happening off-screen. We never get much insight into what makes it particularly empowering, since there’s no sense of catharsis for Lou. These aren’t people who have wronged her in any way, more than the most superficial. Unless “being annoying” is a capital crime? In which case a lot of people are in trouble…

I enjoyed Roe’s performance, which does have much of the same failure to give a damn as Villanelle in Eve. But how much you get out of it may depend on two things. Firstly, how long you see the end twist coming before it’s announced. Note: not if, when. For it’s one that most viewers will see coming, especially if they are familiar with a couple of cult movies from 1999 and 2003, the latter reviewed here. The other issue is how much this bothers you. Personally, less than I’d have expected. Though that may reflect the film’s general lack of impact. It feels like the kind of horror-comedy which would rather invite you in for a nice cup of tea than horrify you.

Dir: Staten Cousins Roe
Star: Katie Brayben, Poppy Roe, Ben Lloyd-Hughes, Sarah Ball

Agent Kelly

★★★
“Not your typical assassin.”

Seeing this described as “an experimental thriller,” set my alarm bells ringing. I’ve seen enough “experimental” film in my time, to realize it’s typically a code-word meaning “incoherent rubbish.” The above rating is thus partially a reflection of my relief that this did not fall into that category. You still, very definitely, have to manage your expectations here. If you go in expecting a slick, Jason Bourne style adventure, you will be sorely disappointed. For this is a no-budget entity, largely guerilla filmed by a one-man crew, and with a lead actress who has no real experience. It has already significantly surpassed all my expectations, simply through not being a total disaster.

It’s the story of Kelly (Spence), a 50-year-old assassin, with a particular fondness for the use of poison, who has gone rogue after her protege, Mia (Mills) is tortured and killed by… Rivals? Associates? Like a fair bit here, the details are vague. It seems safe to say, others in the same line of work. Driven by an unprofessional urge for revenge, Kelly has already killed one of those responsible, and is now on the run from the remaining three, with her only ally a voice on the other end of the phone, Ed (Bergtold), who is… Her boss? Partner? Again: vagueness. She high-tails it to hide out in the South of Spain, where she has to fend off the remaining hunters, making them become the hunted.

Initially, I confused this with Assassin’s Target, the other “Hitwoman in Spain with a fondness for poison” movie. Really: what are the odds? This is sparser, yet perhaps more effective. It certainly puts over the utter loneliness of Kelly’s life: there’s not a single face-to-face conversation in the film, everything being told in phone-calls and voice-over. [This may be to help avoid audio issues, the frequent bane of low-budget movies, as much as a stylistic choice!] In lieu of human interaction, there is a lot of footage of her riding buses, walking the streets, sipping drinks, etc. The action is definitely at the lower level; a few foot chases in those same streets or on the beach, and one brief hand-to-hand fight. That’s yer lot.

As noted, there’s a lot which is never explained, such as how Kelly suddenly finds herself in the middle of an apparent plot to blow up a Spanish bank, how the hunters track her down, or she tracks them [she calls one up, and is even explicitly asked, “How did you get this number?”] Normally, I’d find this kind of thing an irritating indication of lazy writing, yet for some reason it did not annoy me here, fitting the murky world for which the makers seem to be aiming, largely successfully. Spence, who also wrote the script, is not a glamorous female assassin either, being on the edge of menopause and with a drinking problem: credit due there. Even an ending definitely falling into the noncommittal camp seemed appropriate to what had gone before. While clearly rough around the edges, there was enough novel here to keep me watching – much to my surprise, I will admit.

Dir: James Smith
Star: Caroline Spence, Ed Bergtold, Chris Sanders, Mia Mills

Wreck

★★
“If you go down to the woods today…”

I cannot, by any standard, call this a good movie. But was I amused? Yeah, guess I was. It really needs to embrace the idiocy of its central premise – a Bigfoot-like creature roaming the woodlands of suburban London (seems like Swindon, to be precise). This is apparently something to do with fracking, though quite how is never made clear. Into the creature’s territory arrives Sandy (Dean), a courier for unpleasant mob boss Mr. West (Loyd-Holmes). She and colleague Jimmy (Gilks) have been ordered to deliver a briefcase, with no doubt left as to the nasty fate which awaits should they fail. But their car crashes, leaving Jimmy dead and Sandy with her leg trapped under the vehicle. She then has to survive in her crippled state, fending off not just the monster, but also those who are keen to separate her from the case.

Let’s start with the creature, which is the finest you could come up with, given five quid and a roll of blue plush fabric. Really, it looks like a pissed-off refugee from Sesame Street. And that’s before it gets set on fire: the beast then looks more like an under-cooked turkey on the rampage. It is, of course, completely impossible to take seriously. So, despite some energetic gore, this doesn’t work at all as a horror film. As a survival thriller, it’s a bit better. I liked Dean’s performance, in little things like leaving her boss’s office and seeing a stripper performing – the look of “There, but for the grace of God, go I,” was palpable. 

The script, however, has too many flaws to succeed. For example, the way Sandy’s leg is immobile until necessary to the plot. At which point she not only frees herself, but is able to gambol about the forest like an armed gazelle. Or the way the monster spends much of the film defending Sandy, by attacking those who pose a threat to her. Chris said sardonically, “I think it’s in love with her”: this is a much better explanation than anything the film was able to provide. Sadly, no Swamp Thing-like romantic subplot ever arose, another example of the movie not going full speed ahead with the potential of its premise.

I was reminded of Hostile, which also had its heroine trapped after a car accident, menaced by monstrous creatures. While that film had plenty of weaknesses, it did at least put some effort into its scenario and monster; here, there’s precious little past “because Bigfoot.” However, at barely an hour long before the closing credit roll, it can’t be accused of particularly outstaying its welcome, and while you may largely remember this for the wrong reasons, you will remember it. As the saying goes, “If you watch only one British sasquatch movie this year… Wreck is probably going to be it.” I don’t exactly see this starting a trend that’ll prove me wrong.

Dir: Ben Patterson
Star: Gemma Harlow Dean, Ryan Gilks, Ben Loyd-Holmes, Tony Manders

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

SAS: Red Notice

★★★
“Train of thought derailed”

“Less than one percent of the population is psychopathic. Psychopaths often inherit the trait, and are incapable of love. They manage their relationships with clinical precision, succeeding in all walks of life. Psychopaths that can learn to love are even more rare. As rare as a black swan.” That voice-over opens this British action flick, whose main twist is the presence of female villain, Grace Lewis (Rose). She’s part of a family business, a mercenary group that gets its hands very dirty; we first see them clearing the way for a pipeline in Eastern Europe, with automatic weapons and flamethrowers. When footage of their exploits are leaked, an Interpol “Red Notice” is issued – basically a worldwide “wanted” notice. Their employer is none too happy, and that employer just happens to be the British government. So they send a snatch squad, led by special forces operative Tom Buckingham (Heughan), to capture the family.

Grace escapes, and plans savage revenge for the perceived betrayal. She takes hostage a train from London when it’s in the Channel Tunnel, and threatens to blow the tunnel (and various bits of other infrastructure) up, unless she gets 500 million pounds and safe passage. Fortunately – and what are the odds? – Tom is also on the train, taking doctor girlfriend Sophie Hart (John-Kamen) to Paris to propose.  Grace is always one step ahead of the authorities under George Clements (Serkis), thanks to a mole deep in the establishment. Tom thus becomes the world’s only chance of stopping an incident which appears increasingly likely to result in the loss of several hundred lives, as the psychopathic Grace’s plans become clear.

This brought home just how rare a true female villain is in our genre. By which I mean, one who is: the main antagonist; possesses few if any redeeming features; and who doesn’t end up becoming the heroine (I’m looking at you, later series of Killing Eve). Outside of fringe entries like Basic Instinct or Fatal Attraction, in terms of Western films reviewed here, there’s perhaps The Huntsman: Winter’s War, with Charlize Theron, Demi Moore in Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle… and I’m kinda stuck [Other countries have perhaps done better, with films like AngelÀ l’interieur (Inside) or Temptress of a Thousand Faces] Rose, recently seen here in The Doorman and who was Batwoman for one season, is an excellent choice, and you genuinely believe she’s capable of the most heinous of acts.

The problems largely lie elsewhere, most obviously the script which has little to offer beyond being Die Hard on a train. The attempts to make it seem that Grace and Sam are fellow psychopaths don’t work, with Heughan having nothing like the necessary edge. It’s better when it’s not exercising pretensions to depth, and concentrates on bringing the mayhem. Though even here, the underground setting does occasionally leave the viewer literally in the dark. Still, as a way to spend two hours on a Sunday afternoon, this was solid enough, and certainly succeeded in holding our attention, especially when its villainess was on-screen.

Dir: Magnus Martens
Star: Sam Heughan, Ruby Rose, Hannah John-Kamen, Andy Serkis

Rearview

★★
“With hindsight, I shouldn’t have bothered.”

I must confess, I was perversely intrigued when I read a review on the IMDb, apparently from one of the directors, disowning this film: “Terrible, and despite it having my name on it, I had no say in the final cut.” While it is true to say that the synopsis – “Based on true events, a girl fights for her life on the Road – Tears Of Souls – chased by a gang of slave traffickers” – is almost entirely inaccurate, it’s not that dreadful. Oh, it’s… not good, to be sure. But I’ve seen worse (hello, Agent Jade Black): it’s not annoyingly dreadful, thanks mostly to a decent central performance by Thomas.

She plays Nicky, who is driving through the English countryside when her car stalls out, beginning an escalating series of misadventures. For this particular area is apparently ground zero for a series of mysterious disappearances of women, who subsequently turn up dead in what the police call suicide. Of course, that’s far from the case, with what appears to be a loose-knit collaboration between a pair of psychos (Sives and Simpson), predating the highways and byways out of a truck-stop, and certain elements of the authorities. Quite where the “slave traffickers” mentioned by the synopsis come in, escapes me entirely. To be honest, on reading that bit, I was expecting this to unfold in the middle East, rather than middle England.

Nicky is likeable enough and does, at least, appear slightly smarter than the average victim in these things. Or, at least, is not required to behave with the idiocy which is par for the course. However, the downside is that the sensible thing – staying locked in her car – is far from thrilling cinema. There is way too much sitting by the side of the road for this to work, even if you take into account the whole “being menaced by a pair of psychos” thing. Eventually, even they get bored with standing around, passing comment, and smash the side window, forcing Nicky out of her relatively safe-space and into the surrounding woods. From where there’s much running around, until we eventually circle back to the opening, in which she covers herself in fuel at an all-night petrol station, and threatens to set herself on fire after the cashier refuses to let her in.

There is only one scene which genuinely sticks in my mind, which sees Nicky strangle one of the people after her. It’s notable largely for the length, being an apparently endless exercise with the victim thrashing around in increasing desperation, trying to escape. The scene is nasty, brutal and tough to watch, which is exactly the way violence like this should be depicted. It also stands in sharp contrast to the pedestrian direction in the rest of the film, which contains little that is memorable or interesting. Maybe we Brits are just too gosh darned polite to do this kind of thing well?

Dir: Avril E. Russell, Orson Nava
Star: Antonia Thomas, Jamie Sives, Jay Simpson. James Floyd

The Golden Lady

★★½
“The Gun With the Golden Girl”

This British film occupies an odd middle ground between Ian Fleming and Jackie Collins – with a garnish of… The Village People? Yeah, there were points where I genuinely wondered what I’d strayed into. The titular female is Julia Hemingway (Skriver, under the rather laughable screen name of “Christina World”, which seems more like a dubious theme-park), who is a corporate espionage specialist. She accepts a commission to infiltrate the bidding for oil rights in a Middle Eastern country, on behalf of one of the four participants.

With the auction about to take place in London, Hemingway brings in three agents (Danielle, Chadwick and Pavel), and tasks each with working on one of the other candidates – not least with their sexual wiles. However, as an increasing number of dead bodies start to show up, it becomes clear that this is not straightforward business. More than one government intelligence agency is highly interested in the outcome, and is prepared to stop at nothing to get the right outcome.

Director Larraz is best known for the cult horror movie Vampyres, and certainly seems out of his element here. There is probably a decent spy thriller in here – there’s a reason Desmond Llewellyn, the long-term Q in the Bond films, shows up in a minor role. Hemingway and her “angels” are all perfectly smart and capable too. Except, just when some momentum builds up, it keeps going off the rails, in a variety of directions. Some of those aren’t so bad: Ava Cadell, later to be a sexy radio host for Andy Sidaris, plays a modestly-priced hooker.

But then there’s the terrible soundtrack, book-ended with songs by The Three Degrees and (gack!) Charles Aznavour. And don’t get me started on the entirely gratuitous nightclub performances by Blonde On Blonde (a pop combo made up of two Page 3 models) and Hot Gossip, a “naughty” dance troupe, who at one point included future Mrs. Andrew Lloyd-Webber, Sarah Breitman, in their ranks. The kindest thing about them I can say is, there may be an alternate universe where these sequences made sense.

The action quotient is about as limited as you’d expect from a seventies British film, even if the ladies occasionally do get to engage in some brief fisticuffs of the limited kind. The best sequence is probably towards the end, when Dahlia (Danielle) is in a low-flying helicopter, blasting away at her target on the ground as they swoop back and forth; it looks rather risky, not least because it appears to be the actress herself present in the cockpit. I was also at least somewhat amused by the use of technology here. I imagine it was quite advanced for the late seventies, though they may want to recalibrate their database. Given the context of their work, I’m not certain that “nymphomanic” really deserves to be classified as a weakness for an agent. But generally, it’s boring stuff.

Dir: José Ramón Larraz
Star: Ina Skriver, Suzanne Danielle, June Chadwick, Anika Pavel

Stalked

★★
“Lacking in military intelligence”

A promising idea has its concept snuffed out by shaky execution and even worse writing. Sam (Rogers) is a former solder and now single mother. When her child falls sick, Sam heads for the chemist’s for medicine. She never gets there, being abducted in a van and rendered unconscious. She wakes in a large warehouse-like facility in the middle of nowhere, which turns out to be a military production facility. She’s not the only woman there, and finds that an invisible adversary, using advanced tech to cloak his presence, is taking advantage of the weekend to turn the place into a stalker’s amusement park. However, Sam’s background perhaps gives her a very particular set of skills, unavailable to the other victims.

I’m generally fairly oblivious to script-holes: Chris is considerably better at spotting them. But here, even I could see the glaring flaws. This is supposedly a cutting-edge military facility, yet the security is so bad, a child can literally get in. The motivation for the villain is poorly drawn, and it’s never explained how the lowly caretaker – for that’s what he is – manages to get to use all of his wonderful toys. Do the army also let soldiers take tanks off to drive around on the weekend? But it’s not as if the film has any confidence in him as a bad guy, for even after Sam has managed to avoid his threat, she then has to handle a military drone. Just one – for like I say, security is pretty bad. And it can easily be taken out with a conveniently to hand brick. If we ever go to war, I swear, we are screwed

If the film had made much of Sam’s background, supposedly in the engineers’ corps, that might have helped. Watching her MacGyver her way against her opponent, using the plentiful material at hand could have been fun. But that would have required thought, something largely absent from the script. There are few points at which we are ever convinced of her military background, and the scenes where she is “fighting” her invisible opponent, all too often reminded me of the Monty Python sketch about self-wrestling. It’s a shame, as Rogers is by no means terrible otherwise, and is quite empathetic.

The same cannot be said for the ending, however. It’s understandable that the writer-director felt the need to tack something on, after the considerably underwhelming confrontation with the drone. What he delivers is the ultra-cliched finale where someone isn’t who they seem to be, but turns out to be the killer. No, those are not a pair of fidget spinners, they are my eyes rolling at this “twist”. At least he has the good grace not to stretch this out, bringing things to a ending that is brisk to the extreme. It’s clear the budget on this was limited, and I forgive it that. The lazy plotting is considerably harder to forgive.

Dir: Justin Edgar
Star: Rebecca Rogers, Nathalie Buscombe, Ian Sharp, Laurence Saunders