Beware of Friendly Strangers, They Just Might Be EVIL! “Speak No Evil” reviewed! (Acorn Media International / DVD)

“Speak No Evil” has Speechless Horror! Now Available at Amazon!

A Danish family on holiday in Tuscany meets a family from Holland.  The two families hit it off enjoying each other’s company on the final days at the getaway villa.  Weeks after returning home, a postcard arrives from the Dutch family, inviting the Danish family to stay with them for a weekend at their home.  What starts off as the pleasant beginnings of friendship slowly degrades to an unsettling suspicion something is not right with the Holland family.  Abel, the Dutch couple’s mute son, is held to a higher standard with uncompromising, punitive measure, the husband and wife’s acute uncouth behavior sets an uncomfortable stage, and their attention toward the Danes’ daughter, Agnes, is unconscionably overstepping parental boundaries.  An attempt to call out or even leave the home altogether has been met with disbelief, guilt, and pleads for stay and enjoy under their guise of sincerest apologies soon to be dropped for something far more sinister. 

Before James McAvoy grew a beard, got jacked, and attired himself in buffalo plaid for his manly maniac performance in the 2024, usurpative family thriller, “Speak No Evil,” directed by “Eden Lake’s” James Watkins, the Netherlands and Denmark were the original blunt forces behind the sociopathic caprices of those assumed normal and amiable adults.  Only released two years ago, the 2022 film that spurred the American remake and the feature’s namesake is directed by the Copenhagen-born Christian Tafdrup (“Parents’) and co-written between Christian and brother, Mads Tafdrup, as one of their numerous collaborations since 2017, beginning with a manipulative tale of a viperous female in “A Horrible Woman.”  Profile Pictures (“Holy Spider”), in a co-production association with OAK Motion Pictures, serves as the production companies on the Jacob Jerek, of Profile Pictures, and Trent, of OAK Motion Pictures, produced motion picture shot primarily in the southern portion of Netherlands in the Friesland region.

The Danish father and mother, Bjørn and Louise, are played by Morten Burian and Sidsel Siem Koch and before becoming ingrained into the crux of the story, the couple reflect a complicated complexion all on their own, especially and specifically with the focus toward Bjørn who seems unsatisfied or unhappy with his life as he’s shown staring off in the distance or mentally checking out at the dinner table.  The Danish are represented as a couple who are too nice to a fault, unable to say no most of the time, and try to keep to themselves mostly when a problem arises, skirting away without notice in a dust of avoidance.  That’s not so much the case with the Holland father and mother, Patrick and Karin, bordering as an equally amiable couple performance by Fedja van Huêt and Karina Smulders.  That is until the outer appearance of friendly strangers turns into an uncomfortable nightmare of being caught between a rock and a hard place of how other people live and do things, especially from another culture or country.  Patrick and Karin show more passionate displays of anger, sexuality, and bohemianism that wasn’t on display on their shared holiday with the Danes.  Then, there are the children.  Agnes (Liva Forsberg) is a lovely young daughter perhaps too coddled by her parents, especially by Bjørn who can’t resist saying no in going to find Agnes’s beloved stuff animal when she constantly loses it.  Abel (Marius Damslev), on the other hand, is shy and can’ talk due to a tongue malformation, but the overly critical parenting by Patrick and Karin keeps Abel on a silent edge.  The Holland family’s outer haul slowly regresses, facades drop, but still the Danes are reeled back in by their own niceties despite all the red flags.

I can’t help but think those comportment particulars are somehow a reflection of the Denmark peoples’ true nature as a statement to their culture and social relations between themselves and, in this case, their neighboring countries.  The Tafdrup brothers prelude the script with verbal contrast between the two countries, such as their similarities, but the Tafdrup’s firmly stamp that just because you’re similar doesn’t mean you’re the same.  The notion can be applied to anybody of people from groups to individuals living amongst each other in a neighboring fashion and that their differences are being conducted right under your noses.  Of course, the script then embellishes more a distributing sensationalism of a spider leading the innocent moth to it’s sticky web by an attractive, orienting glow of light.  The analogy is right up Bjørn’s alley as a man who is looking to loosen the chains of parental and marital, perhaps even inherent to his nationality, suppression in a misguided notion that his promises have put a limitation on freedom; he finds himself attracted to Patrick’s freewheeling way of life and wants to emulate that in some sort of way.  The psychology behind “Speak No Evil” runs rampant with a paralyzing inability to let wicked do what it wants without confronting it head-on or without fighting it.  “Speak No Evil” is a chilling story of the all too familiar Edward Burke phrase, the only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing

“Speak No Evil” arrives onto UK DVD from Acorn Media International co-presented as a Shudder Exclusive and IFC Midnight production.  The MPEG 2 encoded, upscaled 1080p, DVD9 is presented with an anamorphic aspect ratio of 2.35:1 that encompasses an array of landscapes from vast fields, rocky dunes, and Tuscany vistas.  Contrastingly, director of photography Erik Molberg Hansen goes for an austere, harsh grading with little less light to give everything surface a rough edge from skin to fabric to natural to synthetics.  Colors a held at neutral browns, tans, grays, and blacks to accentuate the severity that continues to increase as the story progresses when moving away from holiday in Italy to the morose, rock-strewn dunes in Holland and while details are generally lost in dense nighttime exteriors, the more brightly lit corners excel in isolated spots.  The Danish-Holland-English audio comes in only one format, a lossy Dolby Digital 5.1 surround sound mix.  Adequate for this type of interpersonal awkwardness, the score and sound design offers a plentiful mix free from compression issues or physical obstacles on the recording in post.  “Speak No Evil” is person-on-person violence in the most primal form that leaves the possibility of added effects from violence next to nothing in what is more of a less is more design under a suppressive audio format that’s akin to trying silence a low-talker.  Dialogue is clean, clear, and at the bow of all the other layers in the audio boat.  What’s interesting about the encoded English subtitles is that they’re only available for the Danish dialogue and not the Netherlanders’, which adds an additional layer of intrigue and suspension as the non-native Dutch speakers with not understand what Patrick or Karin are communicating between each other.  The static menu offers no special features option and there is no stinger at the end of the credits.  The clear DVD case showcases that austere black and gray look with one of the story’s most engagingly odd scenes involving Abel.  The insides are standard edition bare as well with this disc pressed with the same primary image.  THE PAL disc is hard coded with region 2 playback, has a runtime of 93 minutes, and is certified 18 for strong violence and injury detail.

Last Rites: The original “Speak No Evil” speaks volumes of the dangers of societal pleasantries that turn a blind eye to caution for the sake of not hurting the feelings of others, but those subconscious hints are a part of the innate, primal early warning system in us all. Once we ignore those insinuations, we might as well dig our own grave.

“Speak No Evil” has Speechless Horror! Now Available at Amazon!

Beware the EVIL Bite of Silver Teeth! “The Cursed” reviewed! (LD Entertainment / Digital Screener)



Lord Seamus Laurent and the neighboring landowners show grave concern for the recent Gypsy encroachment upon their shared property.  In proactivity protecting the laboring residents and the pastoral farmland of the feudal system, Laurent and fellow landowners order the removal of the Gypsies by hiring ruthless mercenaries who slaughter every last Gypsy in cold blood and bury them in the land.  When every resident on the estate, from villagers to the lord’s family, share a common nightmare of silver teeth buried with the Gypsy corpses, an evil curse unleashes upon the farmland with a killer beast roaming, hunting every resident.  Gypsy chasing pathologist John McBride enlists himself helping Laurent and the villagers to not only relieve them of the cursed creature, but also face his own tragic past linked to the very same evil he pursues.  

Lycanthropy an allegory for the cholera outbreak in late 19th century Europe?  That’s the seemingly centric subject to Sean Ellis’s written-and-directed, folkloric supernaturally spun creature feature “The Cursed.”  Though narratively set and actually shot in France, “The Cursed,” or else better known internationally under the original title “Eight for Silver,” is comprised nearly of all English actors with very few from France and an American in the principal lead to wage war against a swift enemy that kills anyone without prejudice and without mercy.  No, I’m not talking about the wolfish creature that rips settlers and lords to shredded sacks of meat.  I’m speaking of the Cholera epidemics of the 19th century and while Ellis’s metaphoric intentions lean more toward the pains of broad-based additions, our modern pandemic plight felt more widespread linking both the past and present with an event that plagued countries like a curse with unsystematic cruelty and didn’t differentiate between the poor unfortunate and the opulent.  The Los Angeles based production company LD Entertainment finances and produces the feature under Mickey Liddell (“The Grey,” “Jacob’s Ladder” ’19) along with executive producers Alison Semenza (“Lost Boys:  The Tribe”) and Jacob and Joseph Yakob.

“The Predator’s” Boyd Holbrook walks the pathological shoes of John McBride, a man haunted by his past in his continuous pursuit of nomadic Gypsies, and it just so happens that McBride falls right into the thicket of, unknown at the time, Gypsy-made bedlam as missing children and ravaged dead bodies pop up.  Holbrook tries to corral in the pathologist’s inexplicable purpose as the character is often too withdrawn from his intent on what he’d actually do if he came across any Gypsies, which McBride never does.   Instead, McBride feels like a hero who’s dumped in the perfect place at the perfect time to be the hunter of what his pathological experience and instincts claim to be the death-dealings of a wolf while the village becomes the bewildered and unassuming hunted, led by the 2019 “Hellboy” actor Alistair Petrie as the noble estate lord Seamus Laurent stewing stoically in his own despair and desperate head space in search of his missing son (Max Mackintosh). The only character acting rationale in a conventionally proper manner in her reactions to the whole situation is Seamus’s wife Isabelle (Kelly Reilly, “Eden Lake”), with a blistering heartful longing for her son, and their daughter Charlotte (Amelia Crouch, “The Woman in Black 2: Angel of Death”), with a shock-induced and childlike response to her brother’s disappearance. Yet, Isabelle and Charlotte alter course. Isabelle weaves in and out of anguish to the point where her suffering is only implemented to benefit the story and Charlotte, well, Charlotte plainly disappears as a key supporting character who knows truly happened to her brother in the field and with a villager boy, Timmy (Tommy Rodge), who discovers the silver teeth etched with curse inducing rune symbols. The interactions between McBride, Seamus, and Isabelle never quite feel nature and complete, as if there’s an unspoken trust issue between McBride and Seamus or a mutual understanding or compassion between McBride and Isabelle that never leaves the hilt of the sword to see spark action. Nigel Betts, Roxane Doran, Richard Cunningham, Pascale Becouze, Simon Kunz, and Amazon’s “Hanna” star Áine Rose Daly, as farm hand girl turned white wolf, round out “The Cursed” cast.

Sean Elliss tweaks the werewolf mythos to try and shake up the genre, turning it up on its head to dust off a tired narrative of man bitten by wolf, man turns into wolf, wolf terrorizes villagers, and villagers kill wolf with silver bullet. Instead of silver weaponized for good, “The Cursed” weaponizes it as Gypsy revenge, a calling card that leaves bite marks with lasting impression until every single inhabitant, guilty or innocent in the crime against the Romanian wayfarers, is laid to waste by its transformative power. Though unexplained in why the Gypsies forge silver fangs etched with a curse other than a storm is coming, as if perhaps they’re clairvoyancy provided them with a disturbance in the air instinct rather than exactly what to expect, the teeth are a nice cinematic touch of menacing terror literally inscribed on each tooth. “The Cursed” atmospherics of folkloric superstitions blended into a broodingly dense landscape of low-lying fog and uncomfortably vast empty fields surrounded by a thickset of trees comes close to the likes of a Hammer horror setting, especially with the period of time in which “The Cursed” plays out in that has been Hammer’s niche era. The setting might be the only controlled aspect of Ellis’s take on the werewolf genre as the werewolf, if that is what we can even call the abomination of mutation, is written from out of our traditionally known contexts and into a new breed of metamorphism. Hairless, white, and somatically encasing, Ellis’s monsters radically redefine our expectations with a beast that literally consumes our very being and turns us into an unrecognizable fiend amongst the flock. Fast, agile, and ruthless, this newfangled fang-bearer up until the end never received any insularity resentment from me, but the ending abruptly diminishes the near mindless brute strength of a beast with a hint of intelligence in its ability to sound like person to draw the hapless into a trap and that’s where a line needs to be drawn, especially when the technique is used as an out of the blue device toward an endgame.

Whether be a narrative about an all-consuming addiction or about a precipitating plague of chaos in the time of cholera, the uniquity of “The Cursed,” semi-diverging from one of the most revered classic monsters in our history, may be an immediate turn off for many traditionalists, but the film does right by the savagery gore, the minatory threat that lingers in every scene, and that no one is immune from danger. LD Entertainment is set to release “The Cursed” this Friday, February 18th, in theaters. Since this was a digital screener, the audio and video will not be covered. No bonus mater or extra scenes during or after the credits were provided. Sean Ellis provides that creepy fog-laden and dense folky aesthetic of barnyard chic while still conditioning an upscale appearance of a beautifully crafted production from a native French crew of productions designers in Thierry Zemmour and Pascal de Guellec as well as costume designer Madeline Fountaine. “The Cursed” starts strong with visceral intent to be novel by offering callous over civility, a dysmorphic werewolf, and a new set of blingy chompers fit for Lil’ Wayne, but gaps riddle unignorable holes into the story and its characters that ultimately becomes the silver bullet obliterating the beastly nature this new breed of wolf desperately needed to survive unscathed.