Sledgehammer (1984) – David A. Prior.

A boozy weekend in the country becomes a livid, death-drenched nightmare, once the noisome revellers ill-fated séance awakens the supernatural behemoth that homicidally haunts this desolated domicile. Sledgehammer's hugely revered status amongst the S.O.V cognoscenti is richly deserved, remaining a bodaciously brutal, enjoyably retrograde, wantonly cerebellum splattering terror treat! Bizarrely, the male protagonists conspicuous mood swings, gross insensitivity, and egregious displays of misogyny, Sledgehammer occasionally feels like a TV movie of the week special, luridly warning the nation's youth against the incumbent perils of Steroid abuse.

One might additionally call Prior's feverish 80s slasher Synthhammer, as the scintillatingly omnipresent, skull-splintering bass-loaded electronic score certainly proves no less impactful than the hulking maniac's exhilaratingly brutal modus operandi! I felt little sympathy for the victims, the men were boorish jocks, and their girlfriends frequently expressed a baffling tolerance their asinine behaviour, making the killer's bludgeoning, slow-motion rampage an altogether justifiable cull. Sledgehammer remains a product of its time, cynically created to capitalise upon the ascendant popularity of gory slasher tropes, but that perversely lends it so much goofily nostalgic appeal when enjoyed today!

 Sex and the Other Woman (1972) – Stanley Long.

'Sarah! You're a lovely girl, But I don't think we should!!' Happily, the film-makers knew better and they did, a number of times! This saucy melange of episodic ribaldry exploring the perky perils of extramarital nookie is wryly hosted by Richard Wattis, and capably helmed by beloved Brit-smut impresario Stanley Long. Like a series of mucky Penthouse letters brought to bawdy technicolour life, the frequently fleshly contents, while often raunchy, certainly won't do much more than fog up your mother-in-law's bifocals. Mostly avoiding the garish slapstick and tickle antics of Timothy Lea's licentious Confessions, Sex and the Other Woman is less prone to hysteria, featuring some unexpectedly restrained performances. The erotic charge of Sex and the Other Woman may have dimmed since its initial release, but the film's more playful interludes, and lapses into good taste make it more than watchable fare to fans of vintage Brit-smut.

 Skinamarink (2022) - Kyle Edward Ball.

A number of mostly unseen, increasingly malign entities torment a Canadian family in unconventionally creepy paranormal chiller Skinamarink. I don't feel it is altogether just likening this inventive film to Poltergeist, if the sporadic subtitles herein were in Czech, this viewer might well regard Skinamarink as a lost, recently restored experimental Eastern block gem from the early 70s! The two young children's escalating distress is eerily revealed with clever editing, menacingly disembodied sounds, oppressive shadows, and stylised, frequently disorientating camera angles. One of the more darkly engrossing mood pieces I have seen, hallucinatory and chillingly off-beat, Skinamarink is an uncommonly absorbing experience. On an entirely more personal level, I found Skinamarink to be oddly soothing, as within a very short time I became absolutely enveloped within this reality warped, fuzzily alien realm of haunting high strangeness. Any example of genre cinema that strays so determinedly from cliche will, quite naturally, find its detractors, as the pleasures of music and film are entirely subjective, so Skinamarink's appeal shall no doubt remain equally contentious.

 The Game (1984) – Bill Rebane.

Three jaded millionaires eccentrically get their jollies by elaborately staging a prank-laden 'Game', offering a million dollars to the most stalwart participant able to surmount their very worst fears. Following the HD restoration of singularly splendid home-spun Sci-shockers, indie horror hero Bill Rebane's wickedly entertaining genre features are deservedly gaining a wider audience. Enjoyably camp, and devilishly mysterious, The Game's credibility endures due to a playful text, and its ghostly jackanapes, remaining a quirky, modestly creepy 80s terror treat. The performances prove colourful, the rudimentary FX are frequently fun to behold, and the sinisterly smoke-smothered, spook-slathered climax provided a memorably goofy climax. The Game is tremendous fun, and fans of Norman J. Warren's identically tweaked Bloody New Year may especially appreciate the freaky-deakey charm of Rebane's boisterously bizarro B-Horror funhouse!

 Mesmerized (1985) – John Laughlin.

A subtly sinister 19 century crime thriller from new Zealand, concerning the melodramatic misfortunes that befell innocent foundling Victoria (Jodie Foster) who, once married to crass businessman Oliver (John Lithgow) must endure his unsavoury peccadilloes! As one would expect, Jodie Foster is both sympathetic, and distractingly lovely as the naive teenage bride, with John Lithgow being especially well cast as her drunken, increasingly oppressive husband. Based on a true crime history, Mesmerized proved to be more of an intriguing curiosity than essential cinema. The performances are all exemplary, there are picturesque rural locations, and exacting period detail, while I was never completely mesmerized, it is certainly well made, and would be a decent watch to more avid fans of Lithgow and Foster.

 Before Tonight is Over (1965) – Peter Solan.

Peter Sloan's dazzling multi-character drama, perhaps, remains one of the lesser-seen masterpieces of the 60s Czech new wave. Set over one especially eventful night in a wintry ski-resort hotel, the increasingly inebriated guests colourful interactions make for unusually compelling cinema. Not dissimilar to Milos Forman's ensemble masterclass Fireman's Ball, Sloan's vibrant, immaculately performed narrative does occasionally suggest that the plot may suddenly take a much darker turn. While Before Tonight is Over is frequently playful and witty, there's a tangible sense of melancholy throughout, imbuing the motivations of these increasingly noisome revellers with a profound pathos. While Solan's fascinating film is manifestly of its time, the deleterious malaise following WW2 and the incumbent ogre of Soviet communism are undeniable, but Before Tonight is Over remains strikingly relevant, and deeply relatable, potently crackling with the galvanic intensity of Dogma manifesto Festen. I adore vibrant European cinema that inspires, offering compelling insights into a country's beleaguered history, and in many instances I am called to reflect upon the old adage 'the more things change, the more they stay the same!'

 Hotel (2003) – Jessica Hausner.

Irene (Franziska Weisz), a sensitive, pretty, increasingly anxious young woman takes a position at a Hotel, she then discovers that the previous employee she replaced, only just recently disappeared without a trace, seemingly engulfed by the surrounding, ill omened forest! A uniquely unsettling vision, captivatingly visual, eerily off-beat, and seductively mysterious, Hotel can be read as a glacial thriller, refracted darkly through a folk horror lens. With immaculate performances, and exquisite photography, what I found most compelling about Hotel are those elements the director chose not to reveal, thereby allowing imaginations to run rampant over the especially Grimm horrors that befell the doomed young women! The blurb on the Artificial Eye DVD references Hitchcock, Lynch and Haneke, and for me, Hotel also recalls Ulrich Seidel, and the earlier works of Aki Kaurismaki. Completed over 20 years ago, Jessica Hausner's sublime, desperately inhospitable Hotel is ripe for rediscovery, and remains utterly essential viewing for all those who appreciate artfully enigmatic chills.