One Out of 7 Most Freaky, if not EVIL, Places on the Planet! “Gonjiam: Haunted Asylum” reviewed! (Second Sight / Limited Edition Blu-ray)

Become Engulfed by the “Gonjiam: Haunted Asylum” on Second Sight’s LE Blu-ray!

Horror Times, a web series dedicated to horror and hits, travels to the Gwangju providence for their next big event, a special episode aimed to rake in 1 million views worldwide as they explore the supposedly haunted, deserted, and derelict Gonjiam psychiatric asylum after midnight on its anniversary date of its closing.  Already buzzing with historical disappearances of those curious and brave enough to investigate the dilapidated corridors and rooms, Horror Times brings in four guests to join his three-man crew to record every second of what CNN labels one of the seven freakiest places on the planet.  Setup with wall-mounted motion activated cameras, harnessed with individual GoPros, and given a multi-layered script to follow on each of Gonjiam’s four floors, all is going as planned broadcasting live the strange atmospherics that slowly see climbing views from the director’s camped base outside the structure, pulling some fabricated strings to not only heighten his viewer pool but also get genuine frightened reactions from his guest team, but when the team and the cameras unexplainable paranormal occurrences, how far will a director go to reach his milestone goal.

Based off the actual CNN listicle of the top 7 freakiest places on the planet, “Gonjiam:  Haunted Asylum” was a real brick-and-mortar edifice committed to the committedly insane and one of the most suspected haunted places in South Korea until it’s demolishment shortly after the 2018 film’s release.  “Epitaph” writer-director Jung Bum-shik joins the ranks of the South Korean supernatural spookies, accompanying notable entries such as “The Tale of Two Sisters,” “Phone,” and “Cinderella.”  Cowritten by Sang-min Park, Gonjiam:  Haunted Asylum” refreshens the ramshackle mental institutionalized horror subgenre with a dash of social media influence and found footage that entangles grudging ghosts with cyber terror.  Historical thriller and drama producer Won-guk Kim spearheads the project under Hive Media productions and distributed globally by Showbox Films. 

Like a cable-aired, modern-day version of “Ghost Hunters” or “Kindred Spirits,” the vessel Horror Times exploits people’s spirituality beliefs by mingling the exploration of urban legends with gimmicky ploys to keep eyes glued to the show, run up viewership, and earn the root of all evil, money.  The Mystery Incorporated meddling kids might not have a talking Great Dane, but the Gonjiam ghost hunters are a dynamically doomed blend of greed and curiosity, helmed by their captain Ha-joon (Wi Ha-joon, Squid Game) and his on-the-ground, string-pulling marionettes Seung-wook (Lee Seung-wook) and Je-yoon (Yoo Je-Yoon) to conjure up not spirits but pranks under the guise of Gonjiam ghosts.  The unsuspecting portion of the team react as expected, believing the unexplainable as genuine articles of a haunted asylum, until the jokes bleed into the reality of the structure’s incensed force.  Other than Charlotte (Mun Ye-won), a Korean American who travels to Gonjiam to add the location to her lists of CNN’s freakiest places on the planet, there isn’t another mise-en-place character.  Perhaps the others’ backstories are lost in translation but Sung-hoon (Park Sung-hoon, “Hail to Hell”), Ji-hyun (Park Ji-hyun, “The Divine Fury”), and Ah-yeon (Oh Ah-yeon) lose sympathy points for just being there for the sake of being there.  If you haven’t caught on already, the characters and actors name match to add to the faux realism of found footage. 

Veritably surrounded by the actual notoriety of the former Gonjiam psychiatric hospital, the story adds to the established frightening folklore of the rundown building and though the filmmakers were not allowed to shoot inside or on the grounds of the restricted abandoned building, Gonjiam blueprints were used to reconstruction the grimy, trash-laden hallways and various rooms inside a high school.  The effect works like charm used to teleport audiences, along with the help of social media GoPros, selfie sticks, and the like, right into the crumbling ruins; you can almost smell the mold and stank of beyond putrid chemicals and filth.  Yoon Byung-Ho’s cinematography plays with the signal disruption touch, often deploying randomized and intentional interference to convey signal disruptions or, perhaps even, the foreshadowing with the wraithy wrath of spirits; yet “Gonjiam” never truly feels like a found footage film due to its radical differences in video media being implemented and there’s often the unexplainable, no camera-in-use angle that dilutes the subgenre medium.  “Gonjiam” falls into this unquantifiable realm of storytelling that’s hard to digest.  The chaos that ensures in the third act is more palpable, geared toward developing a heavily reliant, hard and fast tension and trembling fear without needing bloodshed for the crowd-pleasing shock factor.

Second Sight sees through the dense barrage of found footage films and spots the pearl amongst the muck with “Gonjiam:  Haunted Asylum,” curating a limited edition, big box, Blu-ray release.  The AVC encoded, 1080p high-definition, BD50, presented in a widescreen 1.85:1 aspect ratio, nears 24 FPS and has flawless technical recording in its digital capturing.  Blacks are dense and rich to create that unknown void apprehension, the neglected belongings of a forlorn hospital have palpable consistency that’s grimy and rusty, and skin textures appropriate lose definition but maintain quality to the extent of equipment limits with GoPros, cell phones, and camcorders in low and hazy key lighting, onboard camera lighting, and some night vision for authentic found footage grip.  There’s not much in the way of diverse color for what is a graded tone of tenebrous obscurity throughout.  I’ve already touched upon Byung-Ho’s purposeful transmissive trouble that impresses more of an annoyance than an integrated factor of fear.  The Korean DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 delivers on the need-to-hear atmospherics that shudders in echoes and the frantic churn of survival.  What there is not a ton of, and gratefully kept to a minimum, was the eerie wails of the dead as their moments are kept mostly visual in a virtually scoreless runtime that focuses on the surrounding milieu rather than building tension artificially through minor key notes.  Dialogue comes through clearly and clean, especially when muzzled by video camera audio band transmissions.  English subtitles are translated well and synch fine enough with the rapid procession.  Special features include an feature-length audio commentary by Mary Beth McAndrews (Dread Central editor-in-chief) and Terry Mesnard (Gayly Dreadful editor-in-chief), UK’s Zoë Rose Smith’s Fear the Unknown visual-essay on the Gonjiam’s origin, history, and what makes the Korean film scary, and archived featurettes with interviews, including with director Jung Bum-shik amongst various crew, that explore the rumored beginnings of Gonjiam’s notoriety that fuels the production into recreating Gonjiam nearly identically, live recordings of the film’s sheer eeriness told through the images captured by the camera harnesses and phone footage, the new faces of fear that circles around the cast and behind-the-scenes table reads, The Sanctum of Horror that aims to explore the connection between the actual freaky locations and their cinematized yarn to create a legacy of folklore for the now demolished Gonjiam hospital, The Truth of the Ghostlore explores Gonjiam’s history and urban myth and how that forms the ghosts in the film, Korean press conference film launch, and the film’s trailers.  As much as we love Second Sight’s authored special features, which from films of the East are rarely produce, there also plenty to be excited about with the physical attributes of the limited edition set, including a rigid and thick sleeve box with a Luke Headland designed Gonjiam building in red and black.  The inside contents include a 6 collector’s art cards in the same red and black color scheme, a 70-page book with new essays from Sarah Appleton (“The J-Horror Virus”), James Marsh (“Wisconsin Death Trip”), film critic Meagan Navarro, and horror content creator Amber T, and finished off with the film itself, encased in a green-colored Amaray with the same front cover artwork as the rigid slip box.  There are no inserts, and the disc is pressed simply with the title, English and Korean, splashed in red on a black background.  The LE set is hardcoded with a region B playback, has a runtime of 94 minutes, and is UK certified 15 for Strong Supernatural Threat and Language.

Last Rites: “Gonjiam: Haunted Asylum” is not just another shaky cam of paranormal activity. The film incorporates a component of reality, embellishing more on top an already suspected haunted building by giving the story teeth, and released with cultural purpose that binds fact and fiction with a terrorizing outcome of some really pissed off spirits.

Become Engulfed by the “Gonjiam: Haunted Asylum” on Second Sight’s LE Blu-ray!

Honey’s Sweet, But There’s EVIL in the “Royal Jelly” reviewed! (Uncork’d Entertainment / Digital Screener)



Bee careful what you wish for in this apiary tale that tells a story of high school misfit, Aster, an easy target for unsympathetic pubescent bullies, including the continuing at-home abuse from her half-sister, Drew, and pitiless stepmother.  With neither school or home being a safe retreat, Aster finds comfort in an unorthodox and brash substitute female teacher who has taken a shine to Aster and provides her shelter when she’s distraught after discovering her collection of apiary beehives was maliciously destroyed in an act of malice.  After living with her teacher and her son for some time, they exhibit strange behaviors, develop skin rashes, and Aster begins to notice that she doesn’t quite feel like herself either as her safe haven is unveiled as a façade for her grooming to become the next hive queen.   

“Royal Jelly” isn’t exactly the killer bee movie you’d be expecting.  Writer-director Sean Riley invites a new take of the Apiformes horror subgenre outside the beehive of being per se a creature feature with his new film, “Royal Jelly.”  And, yes, even though tiny in size, bees are still tiny creatures with mighty (painful) stingers.  Those not familiar with the term royal jelly, other than it being an unique title for Riley’s sophomore feature, royal jelly is the honey bee secretion from glands located in the hypopharynx and is the chief nourishment for colony’s larvae.  See!  Who says horror movies can’t be education?  Somehow, someway the Baton Rouge, Louisiana-born director found malefic inspiration secreting from his metaphorical hypopharynx domiciled glands and packages with it a paralleling an all too familiar fairy tale crowdfunded by Indiegogo backers, second feature funded this way behind his breakout directorial of the comedy “Fighting Belle,” and Riley’s Integral Motion Pictures.

Now, who is this leading lady willing to be misled into a turned-out humanoid life sized queen bee?  The University of Southern Mississippi Fine Arts graduate Elizabeth McCoy, of course.  The Greater New Orleans actress slips into an quasi-goth cladded outcast Aster sporting fishnet stockings and a black graphic t-shirt promoting the band Queen, a bit of fitting foreshadowing if I’ve ever come across one.  Before being bequeathed the hive throne, McCoy has to render Aster a meek existence made small by the death of her beekeeper mother backstory and surrounded by loneliness stemmed by an abusive sister and stepmother and a coward of a father.  The only joy made clear in Aster’s life is her bees.  When her apiaries are decimated, that is when high school sub Tresa (Sherry Lattanzi) flies in and shelters Aster under her wing that makes for an odd couple combination that’s one part predatory teacher fraternizing with a vulnerable student and one part comical motherhood to see McCoy tower over a short Lattanzi who is in this insect sovereign role. Doesn’t Darwin always say the strongest always survive? I guess there’s nothing in Darwinism about the tallest. Lattanzi expresses Tresa about as audaciously enigmatic as they come with little-to-no story arc to move in accord with as Tresa just shows up, out of the blue, and after a scene where Aster’s teacher has had his throat slit and I’m still trying to fathom the plot hole of how the hell Tresa entered the frame so quickly, as a substitute teacher, without ever laying eyes on Aster until stepping into her classroom. Sparse is the name of the game as Tresa, as well as Aster, are poorly written without much density and neither actress can pull off miracles adding layers to already rotten onion. The rest of the cast includes Raylan Ladner, Lucas T. Matchett, Fiona McQuinn, Jonas Chartock, and Jake McCoy.

Pulling inspiration from Roger Corman’s “The Wasp Woman,” Riley’s “Royal Jelly” ditches the experimental cosmetics for timeless folk lore while still vaunting a Corman class cinema gooey with bee secretion center. Instead of an enchanting tale of rags to riches, this loose Cinderella adaptation comes with all the classic hallmarks like an evil stepmother, a wicked stepsister, and a fairy godmother manifesting Aster’s dreams on the spot, but instead of a magical wand and a pointy hat, this fairy godmother comes in the form of a personified bee queen wearing a façade of a presumptuous substitute teacher. Riley’s openly emblematic killer bee story could go one or two ways. 1 – Aster is actually being groomed by a bee queen to take over her hive as a homolog event to Aster’s earlier class presentation on the eusocial bee social organization or 2 – Aster has snapped due to bullying and she’s daydreaming, hallucination, or dead and the bee-havorial chaos she’s experiencing is either in her head or is sardonic Hell. I like the second theory better over the first as I don’t find Aster’s sprouting of inorganic and rigid Halloween costume bee wings and a makeshift stinger, that appears more phallic than necessary, to be enticing me with a freakish reality. I still can’t get over the possibility of a predator allegory as a big truck cruising Tresa targets Aster to mate with her “sons” “Henry” or “David” to produce a heir of sorts. Either way you slice into Sean Riley’s “Royal Jelly,” little feels right story-wise with the delimited, bareboned farmhouse and apiary analogy and with the flighty characters leaving all their aces on the table which Riley scarcely goes back to address, such as with Aster’s family who just disappear from the story altogether though scenes of her snide stepsister showing slithers of guilt and sympathy go unfounded.

The bee invasion has landed with Uncork’d Entertainment’s release of Sean Riley’s “Royal Jelly” this September on all digital platforms From the unhinged “Homewrecker” to the love you to death “Cupid,” Uncork’d Entertainment distributes a wide berth of independent horror, stretching to all home entertainment platforms, and acquires the bee-horror “Royal Jelly” that fits into the company’s catalogue. Since released digital, the audio and visual aspects won’t be given the once over. Jonathan Hammond (“Attack of the Southern Friend Zombie”) serves as cinematographer who’s overexposed day scenes are starkly contrasted by the night scenes’ hard lighting slathered with an unforgiven blue tint. The inconsistent visual styles and slips, such as unfocused, blurry scenes at the dinner table near the beginning of the story, clash in the 94 minute runtime. Joe Hodges lays down a common brooding industrial score that’s not half-bad as the melodies change with the extent of the solid sound design. Stay tuned post credits scene for a millennial targeted public service announcement to protect and support the bee way of life by scanning a QR code to receive information on how to exactly do that. Pleasantly informative and certainly unusual, “Royal Jelly” evinces more the echelons of bee society and lot less the terror of horror and that takes a lot of the sting of Riley’s film, making this bee killer movie a total buzz kill.

Own or Rent “Royal Jelly” on Amazon Prime Video