America Olivo

Clearly designed to be as grisly as humanly possible, this movie combines a brutal central character with a very flimsy premise. And the result is actually rather good fun simply because it's so over-the-top. While happily indulging in every gross-out cliche they can think of, the filmmakers may play it far too straight but they also give horror fans exactly what they want.

There's even the hint of a back-story, as an unnamed man (Evans) drives through the American Northwest with his reluctant girlfriend (Ramsey), who is furious over an affair he had. When they stop in a small town for the night, the televisions are full of stories about the hunt for kidnapped heiress Emma (Clemens). And they inadvertently become the target for a gang of violent burglars (Tergesen, Magyar, Olivo, Knapp and Clay) who have just killed an entire family. But the driver isn't a man to mess with, and when the thugs discover Emma hidden in his car, she warns them that he's a psychopathic maniac who won't leave any of them alive.

From here the movie essentially becomes an extreme slasher horror from the killer's perspective, as director Kitamura merrily indulges in the most grotesque torture and carnage he can think of. And it's so bloodthirsty that we can hardly stifle our laughter. There's also a level of soapy psychological tension to go along with the physical nastiness, which gives the actors something to work with. Evans prowls through each scene with unblinking ferocity, deploying whatever he finds on the gang's farm (oh look, a wood-chipper!). Meanwhile, the goons reply by having a vicious power struggle between Tergeson's cool-headed leader and Magyar's trigger-happy meathead.

Continue reading: No One Lives Review

Aside from being an exercise in point-of-view cinema, it's not clear why French filmmaker Khalfoun (P2) bothered to remake the notorious 1980 slasher horror. This version certainly doesn't include any of the subtext that made 80s horror so intriguing. Instead, it strings together a thin plotline as an excuse for extremely grisly violence and whizzy camerawork. That's enough to hold our interest, but it never gets under the skin.

It's set on the side-streets of Los Angeles, where Frank (Wood) lives in the family mannequin shop haunted by memories of his trashy mother (Olivo). A true psychopath, Frank prowls the streets at night attacking women and scalping them to create a sinister mannequin tableau back home. When he meets the French photographer Anna (Arnezeder), he decides to try and live a normal life. She is intrigued by his shop, and wants the mannequins for her gallery exhibition. But how long will it be before Frank snaps?

Filmed completely through Frank's eyes, we only get glimpses of Wood in mirrors and in a couple of eerie out-of-body shots along the way. But Khalfoun stirs in fantasy sequences, memories and delusions as well, trying to get us into the mind of this mild-mannered killer. Much of this is bravura filmmaking, with long takes and complicated camera angles combining with above-average make-up effects. With all of the brutality aimed at women, the film definitely recaptures the misogynistic tone of those 1980s video-nasties.

Continue reading: Maniac Review