Family trips are great, aren’t they? Parents and children squeezed into a car, singing songs, playing games, enjoying the countryside. Then you get to your destination, everyone spills out, stretches their legs and marvels at the view. You take a walk, have a picnic, hope that it won’t rain, but if it does that’s part of the fun, right? And when a couple of violent thugs turn up, you roll with it, look back and laugh, wait, what?

James Ashcroft’s ‘Coming Home in the Dark’ doesn’t exactly slide into menace, as from its opening there is a sense of foreboding. A family of four make their way through the gorgeous New Zealand landscape, Alan (Erik Thomson) and Jill (Miriama McDowell) determined to have a good time while bickering goes on over which of their sons Maika (Billy Paratene) or Jordan (Frankie Paratene) is in the right. One boy spends too much time on his phone, the other complains, blah blah. It’s all good-natured, but the overcast sky and howling wind create an ominous atmosphere. As the family take a hike through the hills, a figure is silhouetted against the sky, watching them. Then two figures, Tubs (Matthias Luafutu) and Mandrake (Daniel Gillies) accost the family, and things get nasty.

Indeed, they get seriously nasty, as Mandrake especially proves to be an utter psychopath. Imagine the type of quirky and soft-spoken figure played by Taika Waititi, especially in ‘Thor: Ragnarok,’ filtered through Matthew McConaughey’s eponymous ‘Killer Joe’. Quiet and polite, even diffident, but capable of utter ruthlessness and a complete lack of empathy. It has been said that evil is the absence of empathy, and if so, Mandrake is the epitome of evil. Tubs’ taciturn presence is also menacing, prompting the audience to consider the role of standing silently alongside terrible acts. No comment and minimal involvement suggest endorsement, a conceit that becomes ever more prominent as the film continues. Early on, we are treated to a truly shocking act of violence, that in many a film might be the culmination. But this is not a film a about shock value – rather about prolonged psychological torture punctuated with moments of bodily horror and injury.

As a road movie, this is truly a long dark night of the soul. Mandrake and Tubs take the family on a long journey through the night, a journey that involves a steady pressing of Alan, also referred to as Hoaggie. Do ‘Hoaggie’ and Mandrake have a history? If so, does Alan genuinely not remember, or is there another reason for him denying knowledge? Recriminations form a major part of the narrative, always hinted at but only rarely explicated. This makes the film all the more unsettling, recalling Ben Wheatley’s masterful ‘Kill List’ as the tension in the car escalates to the point of the viewer just wanting to know what the hell happened?! Alan’s protestations and increasing franticness become as distressing as Mandrake’s gun, a distress emphasised through Jill who pleads and begs, questions and rages, and finally condemns her abductors.

Fundamental to the horror genre is the expression of victimhood. ‘Coming Home in The Dark’ delivers this expression masterfully through the close confines of the car where much of the action takes place, making this a chamber piece on wheels in the style of ‘Locke’ and ‘Collateral’. Cinematographer Matt Henley captures the titular dark in terrible beauty, cloaking faces and alcoves alike, while eyes wide with fear as well as tears catch what little light there is to emphasise the terrifying circumstances. The tightly-wound performances express both menace and terror, the high pitch of the victims’ voices contrasting with the kidnappers’ quiet menace. When the film leaves the car in a couple of intense set pieces, there is a visceral thrill where we will the victims to escape, and the crash of gunshots punctuate an indifferent silence. Yet indifference is something the film challenges, as the film touches on dark issues in New Zealand’s recent history. Alan, Jill and their sons seem to lead a life of blissful ignorance, or is that wilful disregard? Forced to confront uncomfortable truths, as the country as a whole has had to, the respectable middle class (as always) find themselves responsible for harm and suffering. Not that the film necessarily presents Mandrake and Tubs as being reasonable or justified, but it does suggest that if we ignore things, treat ourselves as separate, believe ‘there was nothing I could do’, what we chose to separate ourselves from might come back to haunt us.

Haunting weighs heavily across the film, culminating in a brutal and bleak climax. But even before this point, there is a sense of despair, demonstrated in one character’s choice as well as the apparent resignation of others to their fate. Ashcroft does a commendable job of sticking to his nihilistic guns, resulting in a film that is relentless and punishing, provides little sense of hope or redemption, and leaves a lingering sense of checking our own responsibility for the events that take place around us.

Monsters can serve as metaphors for all manner of horror. Racial and gender-based oppression. Horrors of war, torture, imprisonment. Perhaps most frequently in horror cinema, monsters work as manifestations of family trauma. The scholar Robin Wood argued that the source of all horror is family, and from Pazuzu in ‘The Exorcist’ to the eponymous Babadook, monsters of all shapes and sizes have provided means for expressing abuse, grief, poverty and more. 

With ‘Slapface’, writer-director Jeremiah Kipp uses monster as monster, alongside family trauma including grief and abuse, rather than instead of. Brothers Lucas (August Maturo) and Tom (Mike Manning) are in the throes of grief after the death of their parents, and older brother Tom must shoulder the responsibility of being the breadwinner as well as Lucas’ legal guardian. Lucas is more than a handful, acting out with teenage angst and rage exacerbated by the recent loss, plus he is bullied by (interestingly), twin girls Donna and Rose (Bianca and Chiara D’Ambrosio) and their friend Moriah (Mirabelle Lee). Lucas’ disorderly conduct has earned the ire of town sheriff John Thurston (Dan Hedaya), and while John allows some leeway due to his relationship with the family, he warns Tom that his patience as well as Lucas’ ‘Get out of jail free’ pass is wearing out. 

Tom’s method of disciplining his brother is an ugly yet understandable choice, the game that provides the film’s title. Slapface consists of the brothers slapping each other in the face, Lucas being punished for whatever infraction he has made and seeing that these infractions hurt his brother as well. The scenes of slapface are among the most distressing in the film, the sound of flesh striking flesh becoming steadily more wince-inducing as do Tom’s insistences of ‘Harder!’ But as mentioned, it is understandable that this is all Tom can do – when things go badly he tells Lucas ‘We’re gonna play slapface’. Tom has an emotionally repressed toxic masculinity, unwilling to talk because that is not part of the male identity that he understands. Rather than open up, he attempts in instil this same repression in his brother, unable to engage with Lucas’ anguish anymore than his own. Tom’s girlfriend Anna (Libe Barer) tries to reach the older brother’s compassion but mainly sparks his rage, as their scenes together often start out as intimate but rapidly turn into shouting matches. 

From this wretched existence, Lucas seeks associations with others, including Moriah who exhibits that strange adolescent tendency to torment the boy that she likes, and the Virago (Lukas Hassel), a monstrous witch that haunts the woods. Is the Virago a projection of Lucas’ confused feelings that lack an outlet? No, it’s a straightforward monster, that does not fill the role of monster as we might expect. The design of the Virago is certainly monstrous and its appearance is often a jump scare, well-handled by Kipp and editor Katie Dillon. Yet Lucas regards the creature as his friend and the scenes between them display a lightheartedness and wellbeing that Lucas’ home life lacks. 

The idea of boy befriends monster can be used for charming or amusing fare. As the non-supernatural elements suggest, ‘Slapface’ offers little in the way of laughs or happy feelings. The visual palette matches the grim subject matter, production designer Kat VanCleave and cinematographer Dominick Sivilli using muted tones and cold light to create a sober atmosphere. The locations are highly expressive, including the brothers’ house, the wintry woods and the abandoned building where Lucas hides and first encounters the Virago. The spaces and atmosphere create a palatable sense of oppression, allowing the viewer to share in Lucas’ troubled headspace. As events escalate, Lucas’ friendships both human and otherwise prove dangerous and more than he can handle, and the final act delivers a steadily increasing sense of dread, leading to a shattering climax that is all the more tragic because the viewer can clearly anticipate what is coming. ‘Slapface’ offers a bleak and compelling portrait of abuse and bullying, never forgetting that true horror is found close to home.

Do you ever really know your partner? Even if you bind yourself to them until death do you part, will you ever really understand all aspects of them? This is the crux of The Night House, which follows a widow (Rebecca Hall) who finds herself haunted by a presence after her husband’s suicide. This presence may be the manifestation of her grief and rage, or it may be something altogether more supernatural, tied into her departed partner’s past.

A mystery box of a horror this is impressive work from director David Bruckner (his previous work, The Ritual, is one of the great underseen gems of the last five years) holds up as one of the more compellingly constructed horrors in recent years. And this is a film meticulously constructed, from the movements of the narrative to the performances (Hall is exceptional here and is ably supported with tend work from Sarah Goldberg and Vondie Curtis-Hall) to the nightmarish images that invade sequences of The Night House. One of the real stars of the film is the aforementioned abode, and hats off to Production Designer Kathrin Eder, whose work properly stand outs here.

If there is an issue with The Night House it’s that this very impressive construction diminishes the emotional impact of a story that should be drenched in it. Hall’s performance means that audiences will feel a powerful resonance in this story, but it perhaps fades in the second half as the mystery begins to be opened out for audiences. And as this puzzle box opens up you realise that, for all the depth of individual moments, this is perhaps a film that isn’t as clever as it thinks it is.
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You will know if The Night House is for you when I say it shares thematic threads with the likes of Hereditary, The Babadook and Lake Mungo. There is much to admire here, with a lead performance from Hall that just about manages to break free of the constructions of the movie, whilst on a technical level this shows what a talent Bruckner is (and it is easy to see why he is likely to take on the Hellraiser franchise next). This is a building worth visiting, even if perhaps there are a few flaws in the architecture.

​Well now this is a surprise! On paper Pig seems like it will be another entertainingly schlocky affair from Nicholas Cage. A truffle hunter (Cage) travels to Portland to locate his stolen porcupine assistant. But where you expect a revenge thriller that builds towards some patented Cage Rage, you instead get a soulful exploration of grief, love and the act of cooking.

Central to the power of this work is a performance from Cage that is simply stunning. Much is internalized here, with the performer relying instead upon subtle gestures and the inflection in his voice. He’s captivating even when disappearing in the scene around him and in the same way that Adam Sandler’s turn in Uncut Gems felt like a reappraisal of an oft underappreciated talent, so Pig feels like a moment to acknowledge Cage for the extraordinary actor he is. Let’s just say that this critic has found his performance to cheerleader during the coming awards season.

But this isn’t a one man show and there is space for the other actors to have stand out moments, with director Michael Sarnoski allowing tender moments to seep in throughout. Alex Wolff continues an impressive string of indie gems as his Amir is slowly stripped of the brash trappings that marks his arrival to the story, with tender work from Wolff as the narrative weaves towards its conclusion. Be it a singular scene or as a recurring presence every character is interesting here, and the world of Pig is a rich one.

Early on there is a shot of Rob and his pig walking through the forest and the beauty of this moment (with the light and mist between the trees) is the first indication that the audience is watching something profound. Narratively and thematically rich this is an extraordinary directorial debut for Sarnoski and it is also mightily impressive on a technical level. So many of the individual shots could be removed and placed on a wall as a work of art and this should earn Patrick Scola (Monsters and Men, Southside with You) well deserved plaudits. Alexis Graspsas and Philip Klein’s score is achingly beautiful, subtly enriching key moments. And Jayme Hansen’s costume design is exceptional, enhancing the detachment that both Cage’s Rob and Wolff’s Amir have to the world around them.
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Pig is a masterpiece. Stunningly constructed, consistently playing against expectations, and enhanced by a career defining (or redefining) performance from Cage. It reminds audiences of the power that film has as a narrative form and is one I can’t wait to own on Blu Ray so I can wallow in this richly drawn world again and again.

Injured during a routine surveillance mission, park ranger Gabi (Monique Rockman) is saved by a survivalist duo. Living a post-apocalyptic lifestyle, Stefan (Alex van Dyk) and his father Barend (Carel Nel) have a mysterious relationship with nature, although there’s a greater threat lurking in the wilderness.

An ominous score plays over a drone-shot of the wilderness, as director Jaco Bouwer utilises an eye-catching style for his South African eco-horror. The foreboding sight of mushroom spores point to oncoming horror, be it small instances of vegetation growing out of a living body or the larger horrors of floral zombies. Likened to the creatures from The Last of Us, each aspect of these blind creations is visually impressive and spine-chilling. From their movements to the accompanying sound effects, these creepy beings are a high-point.

Tertius Kapp’s screenplay delivers rightfully bleak musings on humanity, offering no easy answers or dismissals over where this treatment of mother Earth is leading towards. It’s a vital wake-up call, although it feels like a message made without a film to hold audiences’ attention. Take the human nature showcased in-between the horror, these elements which should work ultimately drag on.
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Gabi’s arrival brings a tug-of-war over Stefan, as her encouragements to see the wider world clashes with Barend’s lost faith in it. Stefan has an interest in the world he was born outside of, further piqued by a shared attraction with the park-ranger, yet his father knows how to keep him in line. As Barend becomes increasingly unhinged, his rants about the wider world are tiresome inclusions done better in other films. It’s unfortunate, as these elements bring down a feature with strong messaging and effective horror.

Do you want to play a game? Well Spiral is set to bring the game back from the dead as we enter a new chapter in the Book of Saw. but is this Chris Rock led instalment worth a revisit to a much-loved series? Or would you rather throw yourself into a vat of pig guts? I am personally a big fan of the Saw franchise.

I am a fan of trash horror and if you have been following this site, and indeed the Horrorcast Podcast, you will know I live for this kind-of sick shit. But did the series move away from the first films vision? Almost certainly. What Spiral is attempting, in my eyes, is to try and bring the film back to its origins whilst also trying to make it its own franchise. Chris Rock, acting as executive producer as well as the lead, has a big pair of creepy clown doll shoes to fill to make this work and personally It does, but only up to a point. Spiral as a solo film, taking away the lore of the franchise, isn’t a bad film. I loved the traps, the reveal and the motivation of the new villain (no Jigsaw this time. But he has been dead several movies now). But what lets Spiral down is an occasional feeling of being a rushed job. Rock doesn’t fit the mould for this kind of role, with his talents better suited for a comedic role, and he has mentioned in interviews (check out the awesome interview on the Evolution of Horror podcast) that he was trying to add a bit of comedy to the role. BAD IDEA. What you want from a reboot like this, if you are going for more of the ‘Cops hunting the killer’, is not the comedy stylings of a grizzled cop. You do get slightly used to Rock’s character as the film continues on but I feel the director is trying to go for a more Se7en-like feel, which really doesn’t fit the characters we have. On the subject of Se7en this isn’t a bad thing per say as I liked the more gritty style of this film. I like how it feels more like the first film than the sequels and I enjoyed Jackson’s retired cop character.

Our villain of the piece is a bit of a mixed bag. I liked the reveal but it was ruined by the shear obviousness that it was his [SPOILER ALER] partner, especially with how rubbish his fake death was. I like the pig cop puppet, it sets the whole history up well in the end, I like that we didn’t go back to the Jigsaw puppet well for the sake of a cheap hit of nostalgia. If given more time I feel that Spiral could have been a great addition to the series.

​If you recast Rock’s character, fixed the bad editing (it feels rushed throughout the whole film) and took away the god awful attempts at comedy, which fell as flat as a pancake, this would have worked well. This isn’t to say I hated this film, I found it an okay watch and by far not the worst Saw film they have done. I never found myself looking at my watch or feeling bored, I just felt that this was a test audience version before the final edit.