Abbey Bell is extremely worried about her teenage son, Jacob. Worried that Jacob, an intelligent boy with good grades and is a social magnet, is plotting a mass shooting at his school. After countless preemptive attempts to warn authorities and medical professionals of her suspicions of his psychopathic tendencies, Abbey begins recording a diary and setting up spy cameras inside the family home hoping to catch Jacob’s unpredictable and dangerous suggestions and threats on tape. The videos will also serve as blog fodder for other desperate mothers experiencing similar disturbing behavioral issues with their children. As the single mother and her son continue their at home war of bickering words and distraught suspicions, the maternal bond once shared between mother and son begins to deteriorate and evolve into unsurmountable distrust between each other; a distrust that has been simmering ever since Jacob was a toddler stemmed by Abbey’s dark family secret sheathed for many years until Jacob weaponizes it for his utmost survival against his concerned mother.
Before the coronavirus pandemic transformed powerful sovereign nations into panic-induced introverts wetting their pants at the first spray of a sneeze hitting their skin, news medias around the globe delectably ate up headlines of mass shootings as there would seem, at least for a good stretch, to be a sad and unfortunate mass shooting every single day. Tucia Lyman’s “M.O.M. Mother of Monsters” derives from that fearful climate while also purposing another sub-topical issue of a parent’s position in that circumstance. Lyman tackles one fictional woman’s tale of internal turmoil as her directorial debut and the sophomore script of a feature film not in a documentary format, pivoting away from the “Untold Stories of the ER” and “I Didn’t Know I was Pregnant” junk food that consumes about 2/3’s of television comatose Americans. The “found footage” 2020 released psychological thriller is produced by Elain White and Austin Porter whom both have collaborated with Lyman in the past.
While not as sexily depicted and as authoritative as Emilia Clarke is depicted to be the Mother of Dragons in HBO’s “Game of Thrones,” New York City born Melinda Page Hamilton can surely sell a mother of a monster as Abbey Bell, vending sharply laid out doubts and uncertainties with a mountain of convincing circumstantial evidence against her only child. The “Not Forgotten” actress quietly folds into herself as the submissively passive Abbey on a histrionics mission to out her son as a danger to society. Bailey Edwards commands a subversive and rebellious teenage Jacob Bell that can use his millennial powers to steamroll over his mother’s lack-of-assertive powers. This film will be Bailey’s first substantial co-staring venture, along with minor performances in “My Dead Boyfriend” starring Heather Graham and Netflix’s “Bright” with Will Smith, and who will subtly introduce Jacob as some white nationalist, gun enthusiasts who has a gas mask with a swastika insignia, first person shooter gear and video games, and scenes of him walking in front of gun shops. While Hamilton and Edwards dominate the majority of screen time, the short cast list rounds out with Janet Ulrich Brooks, Julian de la Celle, and a special appearance from “The Mary Tyler Moore Show’s” Ed Asner as a behavioral doctor Skyping perspective therapy with Abbey. Does anyone believe a 91-year-old knows how to use a video chat? It’s a bit of a stretch….
“M.O.M. Mother of Monsters” throws caution to the wind embarking on a viewpoint of how far a mother will go to expose her child’s dissident and, potentially, deadly behavior. Lyman also digs deeper into the psyche of the mother and the child, sticking them with a ticking time bomb that is the heredity factor. Mental illness is a huge underlined theme that Lyman slips into the fold as signs of one person’s erratic behavior can be stemmed from the secrets of little known relatives and their seemingly destined out of control path can no way be influenced externally without reserving counseling, extenuating the age-old debate of nurture versus nature. Lyman’s storytelling smartly preserves an obscured aspect, cloaked by selective denial and tremendous paranoia, that becomes a catalyzing game changer of disturbing consequences. The narrative isn’t at all flawless with weak spots in the character structure that pigeonhole the roles to be stuck inside this cat and mouse cycling mindset between Abbey and Jacob. For instance, Abbey’s an obsessive, 24-hour recording zealot whose documenting never reveals anything else happening in Abbeys life, like work, friends, etc., whereas Jacob’s intermixed recordings with a female friend outside the contentious home reveal a life beyond his skirmish with this mother and his videogame shut-in habitat, but these recordings stick out awkwardly as much of the story’s is from Abbey’s perspective so how did Jacob’s casual conversation videography become a part of Abbey’s cautionary tale for other distraught mothers? Whether intentional or not to exhibit the imbalanced social complexities between Jacob and Abbey’s personal lives or lack thereof, Jacob’s exterior scenes course out of bounds, penalizing portions of the plot.
Become submersed in dark thoughts and monomania with Tucia Lyman’s “M.O.M. Mothers of Monsters” hitting the digital HD VOD platforms soon after premiering at the Los Angeles Arena Cinelounge this past Friday the 13th through Indie Rights distribution. Since this is a theatrical and VOD title, there is no home video release to provide technical specs and assessments; this also includes no special features. “M.O.M. Mothers of Monsters” hammers down the sociopolitical hot topics of mental illness, gun violence, and presumptive fear teeming in America with a spitting image and climate aware psychological thriller bristled with family dysfunction.
Anna’s a senior at Little Haven high school whose not thinking about what University to attend after she graduates. Instead, Anna focuses on working all the time as a shoe counter girl at the local bowling alley to pay off a year’s worth of traveling despite her father’s wishes, even working through Christmas, but when a sudden zombie apocalypse derails her and the worlds’ plans, Anna’s friends and father are her first priority. With her father trapped at the high school, Anna and her closest friends must trek and battle through a horde of the undead from the bowling alley before striking out dead themselves. Despite social differences and teenage angst, they must dance and sing to put now frivolous juvenile issues aside and work together if to not become one of the living dead.
Timed just right from 2019’s Christmas holiday season is Second Sight Films’s two-disc set of “Anna and the Apocalypse,” a contagiously fun, well performed, and cheekily gory musical comedy-horror by the United Kingdom’s John McPhail directing a script written by Alan McDonald and the late Ryan McHnery, based off McHenry’s short student film “Zombie Musical.” As true to the marketing behind the film, “Anna and the Apocalypse” is certainly the “High School Musical” with teeth-gnashing, putrid-walking, and flesh hungry zombies. The Scottish bred production comes from Blazing Griffin Films, Parkhouse Productions, Constellation Creatives and Creative Scotland to flash mob dance and sing in chorus through the apocalyptic melee while figuring out their complicated adolescent troubles, such as what to do after graduation, turbulent romantic emotions, and being different and alone.
The ensemble cast is heftily made up of unknown talent beginning with, then 17 year old, Ella Hunt in her debut lead performance as the titular character. Hunt’s a fresh, young face with an astonishing amount of acting range with Anna whose defiant against the wishes of her father, but, deep down inside, still wholeheartedly cares for him as he’s her only parent left alive, and Hunt has natural poppin’ dance moves and pop-star vocals. In Anna’s core group of friends, Sarah Swire’s Steph North stands amongst them as the LGBTQ representative whose strongly portrayed as courageous, caring, and independent while her characterization at the beginning of the films focuses on downing her life to the pit of despair with parents, who Steph claims wants nothing to do with her, are on holiday in Mexico and her romantic partner won’t be spending the holiday with her. Swire’s choreographic and musician background, along with an edgy look, make her a perfect fit for Steph. There’s also Anna’s best friend, a boy named John, played by Malcolm Cummings in his first feature film. Cummings has to be the hapless friend zone boy that remains sidelined when trying to find the opportune time in expressing his true feelings for Anna, but finds himself the third wheel in a high school love triangle conscripted with Nick, a hot-to-trot prick and bully colorfully depicted by Ben Wiggins. Christopher Leveaux and Marli Siu are the gang’s love birds, Mark Benton is Anna’s custodian father, and “Game of Thrones'” Paul Kaye antagonizes with a power hungry assistant headmaster gone crazy!
Honesty, I wasn’t sure how “Anna and the Apocalypse” was going to work, or be successful, or be entertaining at all as a horror movie. Horror-musicals are a rare breed that come with a mind-boggling quantitative algorithm to make them truly work wonders and, somehow, John McPhail dusted off his abacus, powered up his TI calculator, and put note to pen to paper and delivered a holiday spectacular on a horror scale stage. The horror, though very prominent and unmistakable, takes a backseat to the powerful soundtrack by the ensemble cast, ranging from caricatured with Fish Wrap to the desolation of personal connectivity with Human Voice to a couple of Christmas satires to bring a little joy with the merry mayhem. The mayhem is absolute with all the trimmings of a zombie apocalypse, even right down to the military being the butt of a joke when they’re overrun by a slow-moving force, but while there’s some gore early on with a dead head decapitated by a see-saw and a pair of bowling balls pop the top of one alleyway corpse, the blood flows downward to a little more than a dribble and “Anna and the Apocalypse” cobbles together a mere mediocre zombie film from then on out.
Already seen a couple of standard releases from other distributors, Second Sight Films reserved “Anna and the Apocalypse” to the royal treatment with a special features heavy region B, two-disc Blu-ray set containing two versions of the film – the theatrical release cut and the extended version which will include a musical number that didn’t make the theatrical cut. The Arri Alexa SXT shot film is presented in 1080p and in the film’s original aspect ratio, a widescreen 2.37:1, with a featured ProRes 3.2k format that allows upscaling to UHD quality providing a high resolution output that’s clean and bright. The color palate has real vibrancy under the director of photography’s, Sara Deane, direction to use colorful outfits and neoned and darkened sets. Some scenes become a little choppy with some sloppy editing work, but as a whole, the story remains coherent. The English language DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 vivaciously energizes the soundtrack with alternative pop numbers, harmonious melodies, and a synchronized chorus, but there are times the dialogue falls into a lossy grey area. A stereo 2.0 track is also available as well as optional English SDH subtitles. The Second Sights Films’ release is chock full of extras with disc one including an audio commentary with director John McPhail, writer Alan McDonald, composers Roddy Hart and Tommy Reilly, a behind-the-scenes featurette, an alternate opening scene, a deleted song “What Side Are You On?”, a deleted bathroom scene, the Hollywood Ending cast and crew lip dub, footage from the EdinBurgh Film Festival, and, of course outtakes. Disc two includes a brand new feature-length documentary with new interviews by the actors and filmmakers. Plus, the original short film – “Zombie Musical.” A definite definitive two-disc set from Second Sight Films goes hand-in-hand with “Anna and the Apocalypse’s” feel good charm and unruly undead charisma complete with catchy tunes and bloody zombie goons in a modern day holiday cult classic.
Alkis Vidalis made friends while serving time in prison. Friends, in the very loose sense of the word, with a corrupt and wealthy businessman, Daniel Bezerianos. When Alkis’s freedom is granted, he’s quickly picked up by Bezerianos’ gangster enforcers to contrive a public viral video with Alkis delivering a verbal message that would exonerate the still imprisoned crime boss and put the blame solely on a rival kingpin, Joseph Forkou. Held in Bezerianos’ rural porn studio building, Alkis commits to the plan that will, for now, save his own skin and as he’s going through the numerous takes to get an absolute resounding performance that will surely free Bezerianos, in the back of his mind, he knows will be undoubtedly be disposed of once his use to Bezeriano has dried up. Alkis’s fight tooth and nail survival and plan-as-he-goes quick thinking must ensure his fate through a multi-level building and a slew of heavily armed henchmen from two criminal factions who all want him dead before the video is uploaded to the internet cloud.
Not many Greek films come across my desk as a reviewer, but when they do show up at the door or in the mailbox, extreme anticipation salivation to pop the disc in the player and hit play begins its rampant course through the core of my body and shoots straight up to my bloodshot eyeballs. Dimitris Tsilifonis’ “Do It Yourself” is no exception as the 2017 action-thriller challenges us to take matters, big or small, into our own hands when push comes to shove and backed into a corner. Written and directed by Tsilifonis, the filmmaker takes the point in his first feature opportunity, aiming high and executing a non-linear, non-formulaic storyline that will keep viewers guessing how, what, when, why and who. “Do It Yourself” seizes the system as a calculated thrill ride that’ll entertain, equaling the same amount of narrative hip-slinging causticity of the last Greek film ventured by Its Bloggin’ Evil, a zomedy known as “Evil: In the Time of Heros” starring Billy Zane and directed by Yorgos Noussias.
As a small time pawn, Alkis Vidalis has prowess in formulating plans quickly; they may not go accordingly and he may break a nose or a leg in the process, but Alkis, like a cat, always seems to land on his two feet when in a skirmish with hired henchmen, coming out bloody but on top. Alkis isn’t a killer but has to become one in order to survive and even though he’s the central character to the story, mystery shrouds around him in what drives the favorable anti-hero to not cower and stay alive other than pure, animal instinct. Konstadinos Aspiotis has the chops to bring Alkis to the screen and express that oxymoronic quality of unsure confidence in Alkis’s mob misadventure. Tsilifonis writes voice over monologue in Alkis’s voice, as if he’s telling a story to the audience, for exposition purposes that describe the setup and the characters which fundamentally weakens the film, but for this particular tale, the voice over monologue is warranted. Aspiotis has numerous interactions with various characters but more so with Makis Papadimitriou as Peter, a low-level enforcer trying to make a name for himself. More like a caretaker than an enforcer, Peter has one job: to make Alkis think they’re friends and then kill him. However, Peter, who isn’t necessarily a screw up, fudges his task and caught in one of Alkis’ fly by the seat of your pants plans. The character is etched with more a selfish attitude toward everything when the tables turn on him and Papadimitriou cultivates all of Peter’s self-regarding desires into the correct power and survival categories while his dynamic with Alkis is looking at himself in a mirror. They mirror so much so that both characters receive their own perspective of the same event. Other characters intertwine with the two leads and they’re played by Mirto Alikaki, Christos Loulis, Argyris Xafis, Panos Koronis, and Themis Panou.
Tsilifonis script has an affinity for pop culture, referencing various films and TV shows by name, such as Martin Scorsese’s “Goodfellas” or HBO’s “Game of Thrones” for example, to juxtapose events and/or characters on a mafia level. Films and television shows are not alone in this homage of iconography as social media websites and their viral and trendy sensations are integrated into the script as table talk conversations. 4chan, Youtube, and The Fappening are particularly referenced when the editor of Alkis’s testimony, also a porn editor with an inflatable sex doll, finds the conservatively torrent side of Google’s acquisition of Youtube distasteful for edgy content and the humor in the bare exposures of star-studded private lives and photos with 4chan and The Fappening while thumb jockeying a Playstation controller in midst of conversation with Peter who seems relatively neutral about these things. Even though suavely placed, “Do It Yourself” frequently uses the pop culture tag words in excess that render them redundant and tiresome that when in retrospect, Tsilifonis could have completely omitted them and “Do It Yourself” can, well, do it itself. The only other gripe with “Do It Yourself” is if the plot takes place entirely in a porn studio, then where was the nudity? Am I wrong?
Artsploitation Films delivers another knockout thriller title from their eclectic catalogue with Dimitris Tsilifonis’s “Do It Yourself” on DVD home video, presented in an anamorphic widescreen format, 2.39:1 aspect ratio. Between Aggelos Papadopoulous’ depth defying photography and the impressive visual effects that flawlessly moves and puts a building in the middle of nowhere, the transcendence image quality is one with this release as it’s practically impossible to conclude what’s real and what a visual effect. Other visual effects of displaying Ikea like instructions on the side of a building, showing the cell phone screen next to Alkis, or having subtitles embedded into portions of the wall are unique and clever, but too far and in between that ends up being an inconsistent inconvenience. The dim tint sets the tone while still mastering the color palate. The Greek language Dolby Digital 5.1 surround sound allows you to hear every glass break, every ping of a bullet ricochet, and every guttural and verbal echo in the reverberating car garage through the five channels. The prominently Greek with little English dialogue is in the forefront amongst a well-balanced range and depth of sounds like hearing the muffled voices behind glasses, the soft moans and groans of porn actors behind the fake walls, and, on the other side, the high squeal of a racing tire wheel. Bonus features include a three small featurettes that revels how the camera shot elevated up from ground level to the top, another was the visual effects breakdown in creating the building structure, and the last being two deleted scenes. Dimitris Tsilifonis’ has a commentary track and 14 minute short film “The Way of Styx” is also available. “Do It Yourself” is no Bob Vila special on how to repair the seeping drips from a leaky sink with your own two God-given hands, but the Dimitris Tsilifonis film bustles with fun in a deluge of crime and betrayal and that, my friends, is a priceless enlightened experience.
Times are tough. Loads are scarce. For John Canyon, being an independent owner operator space trucker in the year 2196, without the influential assistance of conglomerate sponsors and big corporations, is the last freedom in the last great frontier, but even Canyon needs to earn a living and when a questionable load becomes his only way out of a jam with the authorities, Canyon and his new and young partner, Mike Pucci, snatch the haul bound for Earth. Manifested as carrying sex dolls, Canyon and Pucci become suspicious of their cargo that’s loaded with a fatal self-defense mechanism, but when encountered by space pirates, lead by former company man named Macanudo, the space truckers learn their hauling thousands of virtually unstoppable killer cyborgs programmed to conquer Earth.
In today’s age, a nationwide driver shortage threatens to slow down crucial logistics worldwide. Director Stuart Gordon (“Re-Animator,” “Dagon”) with co-writer Ted Mann had the inverse premonition that trucker cargo would be at a premium in the space; the point A to point B in a timely fashion has not and neither have the negotiations of rate costs and demurrage time in this world-saving adventure entitled “Space Truckers.” In the same science fiction-comedy vein as the similarly colorful Luc Besson’s “The Fifth Element,” “Space Truckers” has that unrefined inviting quality about it, categorized as blue collared heroes, that complete the dynamic character arcs, but what’s more interesting about “Space Truckers,” which was released a year earlier than Bruce Willis film, was that it was constructed on a third of the budget, making the film one of Stuart Gordon’s most expensive and ambitious projects chocked with square pigs in cages, a self-built cyborg with a ripcord sexual organ, and an army of ass-kicking fembots with disintegrated lasers…”Space Truckers” is out of this world fun!
In the realm of Sci-fi comedy or fantasy, one legendary actor has nailed his performance in every flop that’s too big for commercial audiences. From “Waterworld” to the movie adaptation of popular and beloved video game, “Super Mario Bros.,” Dennis Hopper ruled the 1990’s with memorable, fascinating, and engaging overweening characters, especially villains, but Hopper snags John Canyon, a long in the tooth trucker who prefers to work alone. Hopper’s in his element, in control, and in the lead role despite not being top bill; instead, a young Stephen Dorff would be eyed as the one to provide fresh protagonist momentum into the mid-nineties. Dorff’s rather low-key to Hopper’s giant persona and that’s inherit to the character’s written traits, by always complimenting and complying with and whatever John Canyon says, but the soon-to-be “Blade’s” Decon Frost actor has a sturdy performance that’s portly as any trucker can be portrayed and has great repertoire with Debi Mazar as a trucking hub waitress who needs a hitch a ride to Earth. Mazar’s all-natural New York City accent compliments her guido-type character attire and she downplays her beauty with instilling innocents and ramping up the wit when the scene calls for it. “Game of Thrones'” Charles Dance makes an appearance as the space pirate captain Macanudo and Dance has always has a steel complexion, but in “Space Truckers,” he lets his hair down as far as becoming subjected to hours worth of cyberpunk makeup and prosthetics that’s comically outlandish and utterly fleshy. Certainly not a role one would consider the actor who comes complete with a rich British accent and an urbane quality about him to then sport a sparkling fishbowl cranium and a battleship gray half a buttocks. The remaining cast includes George Wendt (“King of the Ants”) and Shane Rimmer (“The Hunger”).
CGI was relatively in the early stages of infancy; yet “Space Truckers” had an astonishingly working blend of computer generated imagery and palpable miniature models that were supported with an integrated futuristic edifice style of production design by Simon Murton, whose speciality is high concept science fiction with illustrative art department experience that includes “Demolition Man,” “Tank Girl,” “Judge Dredd,” and “Stargate.” Murton’s style incorporated with the bright colored visuals of neon flicker marquees, illuminating body parts, and red hot poker red infrareds hues are the very antagonistic views of a cold and dark space, yet Gordon and his crew envisioned characters who sought out color, who wanted nothing to do with the darkness, and that’s what made them colorful and maybe a bit off-kilter.
Stuart Gordon’s stellar “Space Truckers” rockets to a region B, 1080p Blu-ray courtesy of UK distributor Second Sight that delivers with a widescreen presentation, 2.35:1 aspect ratio, that has out of this world image quality vividly displaying the massive color palette through a 2K restoration from the 35mm negative. Running at nearly 24 fps, Second Sight’s edition is superior in detail, cleanliness, and balance amongst the coloring and despite being able to see the special effect wires, “Space Truckers” has one of the best restorations I’ve seen lately under the black Blu-ray box laced with new artwork by graphic designer Rich Davies. The English 2.0 LPCM uncompressed stereo track, with optional subtitles, has immense range across the board. From cheesy John Canyon dialogue to the vary of space-kindred ambience, not one track felt short to being muddled or murky. Colin Towns bigrig score is big country cadence that’s emits a well-rounded six pack from the dual channel sound. The robot’s disintegrations amplify a high pitch note that can be a thorn in one’s ear, but adds to the chaotic charm when all hell breaks loose in space. Bonus features include a new interview with Stuart Gordon delving into the film’s beginnings and his recollections with the stars, and a new interview with composer Colin Towns (“Rawhead Rex”), a new interview with Art Director Simon Lamont (“Event Horizon”). “Space Truckers” is 96 minutes of mudflappin’ mayhem strapped with slender models in killer robot suits and Charles Dance’s exhibiting his tin-can half-nakedness in a bizarro world of high concept meets tongue-and-cheek performances of a film that ultimately pits the epitome of the blue collar workforce as the unsung heros of space.
Journeying from the South to reside with her son Michele, Lea is a boisterously strong matriarch whose suffered through twelve miscarriages in fifteen years and has become insanely protective of her sole breathing progeny. Michele lives in a stately condominium that accommodates an eclectic bunch of women of various tastes, housing his mother Lea to mix as a lottery fortune teller of sorts. Lea’s talents go beyond just predicting winning lucky numbers as she’s also a fantastic cook in the kitchen, a superb soap maker, and an efficient killer that supplements the prior traits. Madness consumes a mother who seeks to absolutely protect her only child and a contractual deal with Death itself orders the end of minuscule lives, such as the other tenants of Lea’s apartment building, to fulfill her obligations to Death.
I promise you, you’ve never seen a Shelley Winters performance like this! “Gran Bollito,” otherwise known in the U.S. as “Black Journal,” is a 1977 Italian macabre from director Mauro Bolognini and has for the first time ever been slow cooked to Blu-ray high definition. “Gran Bollito” has been resurrected from the archives of production company Italfrance Films’ with Shelley Winters (“The Poseidon Adventure”, “Lolita”) exploiting her mother’s animal instincts to provide Death with as many souls as she can chop up and boil into a lathery substance. “Gran Bollito” loosely translate as very boiled, a form of murder that would top the charts and these heinous acts were, in fact, inspired by the true, inexplicable story of an Italian serial killer named Leonarda Ciancillui, a soap maker whom sacrificed three women in hopes to protect her war drafted son. Alongside mother mayhem are a trio of cross-dressing actors portraying the three victims; actors such as singer-actor-director Renato Pozzetto, Italian sex-comedy actor Alberto Lionello, and the legendary Max von Sydow (“The Exorcist,” “Game of Thrones”) go full blown drag, donning the period piece’s late 1930s conservative wardrobes while conducting themselves loosely with their intimate and delicate privacies.
As I mentioned, “Gran Bollito” tackles numerous undertones with multiple notations of the horrors of war and the inexplicable amount of death from it as well as from disease, to miscarriages, and to the actual beheadings to sustain a red soap bar factory and food processing plant Lea runs in her custom made kitchen. The Bolognini film also notes many facets of mental illness and health with merely Winters’ topping the psychological pyramid. Conditions consisting of states from a stroke, absentminded dementia, and severe delusions to name a select few are displayed throughout to which almost puts the perception of Lea, or maybe Lea’s perception, one of relative normalcy. Lea’s derangement stems from her fifteen years of pain and suffering through multiple miscarriages. Bolognini very conspicuously has Pozzetto, Lionello, and Sydow portray Lea’s victimized women. They represent Lea’s resentment for their wasteful contributions toward their natural given right to bear children as if the women were merely men without a womb and that strikes a sensitive nerve with Lea who would do anything to give her children life again.
Generally, Bolognini’s constructs a well paced film, seamlessly passing the days, weeks, or months from Lea’s condominium integration to the slow seep that eventually breaks into maddening despair and desperateness. The cinematography by Armando Nannuzzi is soft and lofty that appeases to angelic similarities akin to that of Tinto Brass films, but when the tide turns, her kitchen brights white and Lea is dressed in midnight black as if she’s the Grim Reaper herself. Nannuzzi’s an artist at his trade by enabling Shelley Winters to shed the wholesome of her prior performances and at the same time present a false sense of calm and good fortune. Composer Enzo Jannacci’s score underwhelms when accompanying said Nannuzzi’s style; the score’s flat and breathy tone just doesn’t leave an impression, lacking substance and girth that doesn’t quite fit the Bolognini’s mold. Though acting and performing not in her native country, the St. Louis born Shelley Winters extracts a true life serial killer from off the Italian crime section.
Twilight Time’s “Gran Bollito” is now on a Blu-ray High Definition 1080p transfer presented in a widescreen 1.85:1 aspect ratio. The limited edition release look impeccably detailed, sporting natural coloring and depth. Twilight Time, by far, has the best image quality compared to any release. The Italian 1.0 DTS-HD Master Audio is pretty good with balanced range and clarity in all aspects of audible tracks with only a minor pops in the tracks during transitional scenes. Bonus features include an audio commentary with film historians Derek Botelho and David Del Valte with also the original theatrical trailer. Twilight Time polishes “Gran Bollito” with the respect this obscure Shelley Winters film deserves; a horror-comedy that pushes the limits bordering insanity and disparity in a twisted display of narrative too intriguing to fathom.