Curse, Death & Spirit (1992) - Hideo Nakata.

Curse, Death & Spirit is a well-made, 65min. J-Horror trilogy by macabre maestro Nakata that I was hitherto unfamiliar with. While the supernatural content is mostly subtle, the youthful cast's performances are uniformly excellent, and these ghostly, slowly-creeping tales of restless, darkly disembodied spirits proved to be a compelling watch. While I found spine-tingling interest in all three softly spooky stories, the palpably eerie 'The Haunted Inn' instalment was the most impactful, at times genuinely chilling, it arguably acts as a sinister primer for the resolutely game-changing, epoch defining grimness of The Ring. In closing, horror fans who especially favour the mayhem engendered of diabolically distempered dolls should certainly appreciate the first story entitled 'The Cursed Doll'.

 Shady aka Kashikoi inu wa hoezuni warau (2012) - Ryôhei Watanabe.

A beautifully written, frequently unsettling, utterly compelling Japanese chiller from the incredibly gifted filmmaker Watanabe. While the increasingly nightmarish plight of the monstrously beleaguered protagonist Misa ultimately made me feel enormously sad, the suspenseful, deliciously twisted final act proved to be altogether thrilling! When I have some spare geld, I will most definitely purchase a DVD/Blu copy, as Shady is an absolutely essential title for J-Horror addicts!!! I'm keeping this enthusing rather bare boned, since I watched this without knowing anything about it at all, and promptly fell madly in love with it. If I had read any overtly specific details abut the plot, my experience would have been greatly diminished. 

 Paydirt (2020) – Christian Sesma.

If someone had told me that I could appreciate a roustabout indie thriller that included the wholly blasphemous utterance of 'Throw some vegan eggs on the barbecue!!!!' I would have immediately checked my Ovaltine for an unwanted mega-dosing of fentanyl!!??? 33 life-changing millions of cartel money has been cannily squirrelled away by enigmatic thief The Brit (Luke Goss), masterminding an elaborately constructed ruse for his loyal crew to reclaim the loot, and thereafter jubilantly jaunting off to sunnier climes, proved to be a surprisingly smart, playful, hugely satisfying crime caper! While dashingly handsome Goss is the star of Sesma's conspicuously funky thriller, the sparky text is a close second, okay!!!! OKAY!!!! scratch that!!!! Ay caramba!!!!!! the BODACIOUS bevvy of mesmerizingly majestic Mexican mamasitas are the REAL stars! Paydirt demonstratively ticked all of the right B-movie boxes, snappy badinage, amusing characters, slamming score, a seemingly watertight plot, plus luscious Luke Goss utterly resplendent in dude-lord shades, AND that distractingly dazzling dusky diorama of dishy Latino vixens!!!! Whoopsie-doodle!!! almost forgot, Val Kilmer turns up as a gloomily rumpled sheriff, and he's pretty convincing too! Did I omit to mention the proliferation of delectable Latino honey babies????!!!! A saline-drip of weaponized Cialis has all the potency of a stale British Rail rissole compared to El Jefe's lustrously beautiful daughters!!!!!

 San Ferry Ann (1965) – Jeremy Summers.

In the same boisterous tradition as Futtock's End, and the much-loved Eric Sykes classic The Plank, San Ferry Ann is another masterclass in the micro 'Sound effect comedy' genre of British slapstick comedy. It is often hilarious, but San Ferry Ann would be worth watching for the glistering plenitude of UK theatrical icons alone. Eschewing dialogue is, in many instances, a great boon, as more often than not, film dialogue is tawdry, patently recycled, and unimaginative, whereas San Ferry Ann relies exclusively on animated music cues, and inventive slapstick shenanigans. There are a number of most chucklesome scenes, David lodge and Joan Sims perform a well-observed, frightfully tittersome sequence on the beach, gingerly disrobing in an immaculately post-war British fashion; to whit, Mr. Lodge even totters towards the sea in his crinkly socks! Acting comedy effectively is certainly no mean feat, and therefore, it must follow that capturing it so brilliantly as Jeremy Summers is deserving of great praise.

 A Certain Justice aka Puncture Wounds (2014) – James Coyne / Giorgio Sarafini.

Gnarly, high-impact DTV actioner finds depressed PTSD vet. John (Cung Le), recently returned from war in the middle-east to incidentally starting another one with a malign crew of hedonistic skells, dominated by vicious kingpin Mr. Hollis (Dolph Lundgren). This visceral punch-fighter provides a vividly entertaining example of no good deed going unpunished, as jacked Kung Fu powerhouse Le is demonstratively capable of punishing those who have done his family such a grievously unforgivable wrong. While the relentlessly revenging setup is undeniably trope-city, this gritty tale of a one-man wrecking marine is absolutely recommendable to avid martial arts fans. A Certain Justice ups the ballistic ante, resolutely delivering the action goods, bloodily replete with a bruising array of exhilaratingly brutal fight scenes. This heroically dosed adrenaline shot of hypertrophic Lundgren/Le hard-assery, climaxes explosively in a satisfyingly gonzo, bullet-blasted fashion! The professionally executed martial mayhem herein is leavened with appreciable pathos, Cung Le's honourable veteran is a familiar DTV cypher, yet he performs the role vigorously, John's grisly rampage proves cathartic. Lundgren fans who relish the sledgehammer swede in unfiltered nasty mode will get a kick out of Mr. Hollis, who is stone-cold meaner than pint of cobra venom!

The Empty Man (2020) – David Prior.

A not uninteresting admixture of creepy folk horror, and urban legend motifs, boasting a compelling central performance (James Badge Dale), an effectively doomy score, plus a grim, deliciously bleak resolution that eerily recalls mega-downers Jacob's Ladder and Angel Heart. I watched The Empty Man knowing absolutely nish all about it, and I found myself strongly drawn into the Scientologically sinister shenanigans almost immediately, which, in truth, happens all too rarely with contemporary horror these days.

 Strategic Command (1997) – Rick Jacobson.

Lethal mercenaries, headed by the menacing Carlos Gruber (Richard Norton) heist a deadly toxin, successfully hijack a 747, transporting the vice-president, and attendant news crew, resulting in marine vet. Dr. Harding (Michael Dudikoff) zooming stealthily to their aid in high-flying actioner Executive Command. The cast is appreciably weighty, alongside the redoubtable Dudikoff, there are commanding performances from the legendary Paul Whitfield, stalwart character actor Michael Cavanaugh, and a triumphantly odious turn from future heavyweight Bryan Cranston. While Strategic Command is a by-the-numbers Gung ho action thriller, it remains a competently brisk endeavour, director Jacobson maintaining these suspenseful airborne hi jinks at an agreeably zesty pace. Strategic Command, like its beleaguered 747 is a perfectly balanced actioner, wherein the heroic force of righteousness (Dudikoff) is aggressively matched by an opposing force of commensurate villainy (Norton), thereby providing incendiary grist for a suitably turbulent climax. As one might expect, heroically handsome Michael Dudikoff is no slouch in the Dudley Do Right Dept., and greatly admired martial arts steam hammer Norton proves chilling as the glacially enigmatic terrorist Carlos Gruber, and I would certainly be remiss if I didn't praise action maestros Eric & David Wurst's rousing score.