A Parents’ Love Never Dies. It Just Becomes EVIL Against Threats! “The Sweet House of Horrors” reviewed! (Cauldron Films / Blu-ray)

“The Sweet House of Horrors” on Blu-ray by Cauldron Films!

A house robbery gone wrong results in the brutal murder of twin siblings’, Marco and Sarah’s, parents Roberto and Mary Valdi when they stumble upon the masked thief, catching him in the act in their beautiful villa home.  The twins bawling at the funeral gives way to impish innocence as the children cope in jokes amongst each other and to their now legal guardians, Uncle Carlo and Aunt Marcia.  Looking to sell the now sullied house, Carlo and Marcia invite a pompous realtor to examine and price the home only to have strange occurrences begin a series of unexplained phenomena the children are certain to be their parent’s lingering and love presence to keep the house within the family.  The parental entities also seek revenge on their attacker whose has been close to the family for years.  As the spirits continue their course of playful and perturbed poltergeist toward their children and unwanted visitors, an unaware Carlo and Marcia hire an exorcist to rid the house of what they suspect to be an evil spirit. 

The third made-for-TV film in the Massimo Manasse and Marco Grillo Spina doomed The Houses of Doom series, in which none of the films aired due to their too gruesome violence, “The Sweet House of Horrors” is the second Lucio Fulci production under the defunct 1989 series, coinciding with “The House of Clocks.”  Just like that film, Fulci also invented the concept of murdered parents being guardian angels over their children while thwarting murderers, realtors, and exorcists from taking what they hold most precious, their children and their home.  The shooting script comes from “Devil Fish” and “Phantom of Death” duo Vincenzo Mannino and Gigliola Battaglini.  The fantasy-ghost house horror is another production of Reteitalia and Dania Film and filmed in peaceful Italian municipal of Ponte Pattoli.

“The Sweet House of Horrors” has an alternating appointed cast of main characters that turns focus between the children, Marco (Giuliano Gensini, “The Fishmen and Their Queen”) and Sarah (Ilary Blasi), the inheriting guardians of Carlo (Jean-Christophe Brétignière, “Rats:  Night of Terror”) and Marcia (Cinzia Monreale, “The Beyond”), and the dead parents turned ambivalent malicious poltergeists with Mary (Lubka Lenzi, “Massacre”) and Roberto (Pascal Persiano “Demons 2”) Valdi.  Giuliano Gensini and Ilary Blasi are well matched bratty children with mischievous dispositions who let their parents setoff hurricane force winds in the house and unleash topsy-turvy fog to combat the selling of the house and the unwanted removal of the children by the new guardians.   The children are also the only ones who know what’s actually going on while Carlo and Marcia chalk it up to either Marcia overactive imagination or, eventually, boiling the explanation down to malevolent ghosts unaware that it’s actually the deceased Mary and Roberto being impish apparitions.  This allows to comical characters to enter the fold in an overweight and pompous realtor lovingly nicknamed Sausage (Franco Diogene, “A Policewoman on a Porno Squad”) and gravely natured exorcist (Vernon Dobtcheff, “Horsehead”) to give levity and breeziness for a television market to a point where it feels almost a like a kids movie, but then we get to Guido (Lino Salemme, “Demons”) whose a guilt-ridden soul is splashed with past transgressions and the blood of his victims that haunt him from beyond the grave, literally, and in these flashes of Lucio Fulci’s ferocity for a visceral showing of range that definitely turns what could very well be a family friendly film into a smaller scale fright and violent feature.  Dante Fioretti (“The Wild Team”) rounds out the cast as the graveside servicing Father O’Toole who is the butt of the joke from not only the children but also the audience as a priest overbooked in his ceremonial duties. 

Finally – we’ve always suspected in The Houses of Doom installments a good old fashion haunting would make an inevitable appearance, but this particular Godfather of Gore entry is no ordinary ghost house narrative.  As read above, “The Sweet House of Horrors” has plenty of light-hearted comedy and fantastical elements to make a great televised production with dancing and floating candle flames, slapstick punching bags with the Sausage character, and two children who laugh and belittle at those in the path of the spirit-induced misfortune, spirits who are just loving parents taken too soon from their children and want to protect them at all cost.  As these scenes playout, feeling breezy, light, and full of supernatural fantasy, one hardcore horror fan could potentially forget their tuned into a Lucio Fulci film if it wasn’t for the opening double murder of the parents, the subsequent revenge killing of the murderer, and the shocking last frames of a hand melting away to the bone.  Granulized bits of body injury and stark severity and gruesomeness slingshot audiences out of the kiddie dreamland into the grisly nightmare of Fulci’s eye for details.  Hair and blood matted together, run over and eviscerated by a large truck, and, of course, “The Sweet House of Horrors” wouldn’t be a Fulci film without a gruesome dislodged eyeball from the socket.  There’s nothing quite like this House of Doom picture, or even in the generalization of haunted house tropes, as “The Sweet House of Horrors” splinters a fractured tale of holding onto dear life a happy nuclear family with the external forces that try to violently rip them apart.  

Cauldron Films proudly presents an uncut and restored Blu-ray release, scanned in 2K from the film negative and encoded onto AVC BD50 with 1080p, high-definition resolution.  The 1989 Fulci film now looks remarkably crisp in its European widescreen 1.66:1 aspect ratio.  A counterargument against the defined image could be the color timing that does have a bit of a wash layer overtop, reducing hues down to a pause in the image pop.  The reserved grading primarily hits the internal scenes, perhaps a result of the transparent animation layer for dancing candle flames, the ethereally delineated parents, or the blue orb/blob that circles the kids, but there are live shot instances that too are stifled to radiate better.  Textures are definitely not washed away as we receive an in-depth look at the wardrobe design that distinctly set characters apart, such as Sausage’s prim-and-proper suit, Guido’s paint-speckled denim overalls, and the Exorcist’s dark cloak getup, courtesy competent compression.  The ADR English and Italian 2.0 mono tracks offer a more than adequate A-to-Z dialogue with instances of crackling, more so the beginning.  The hit tracks and other targeted ambient sounds land with depth and range incorporated into the action with the character.  As with a mono track, distinction can be lost but with many Cauldron releases, there’s a pseudo-tier balancing of separating sounds through the 2.0 channels.  English subtitles are available on both releases and are well transcribed with excellent pacing.  Special features includes new Cauldron Films’ produced content, such as interviews with actress Cinzia Monreale Sweet Muse of Horrors in Italian with Englis subtitles, production designer Massimo Antonello Fulci House of Horrors in Italian with English subtitles, editor Alberto Moriani Editing for the Masters in Italian with English subtitles, and an audio commentary track with film historian regulars Eugenio Ercolani and Troy Howarth.  The release also includes archival interviews previously seen on Mediablasters DVD release with interviews from actors Cinzia Monreale, Jean-Christophe Brétigniere, Pascal Persiano, Lino Salemme, and screenplay writer Gigliola Battaglini, all of which are either in Italian or English with English subtitles on the Italian interviews.  Matthew Therrien and Eric Lee provide, yet again, another compositional illustration of the more harrowing sides of “The Sweet House of Horrors” and its logo design inside a clear Scanova Blu-ray case.  The reverse cover also pulls a fiery still from the story.  There are no additional supplements inside or out with a cropped pressed image of the front cover on the disc that has a runtime 83-minutes and has region free playback.

Last Rites: “The Sweet House of Horrors” is a paradoxical made-for-TV special that never saw the light of public broadcast day but lands safely in the distributive hands of Cauldron Films with a new Blu-ray, Hi-Def release too good to pass up.

“The Sweet House of Horrors” on Blu-ray by Cauldron Films!

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!

What EVILS Lie After Death? “We Go On” reviewed! (Lightyear Entertainment / Remastered Blu-ray)

Get Haunted as “We Go On” is now on Blu-ray!

Miles Grissom lives in fear every minute of his life.  What scares the editor of shoddily performed, midnight television infomercials the most is the unknown after death.  The question is Is there a life after you die or is there just a black void of nothingness?  To answer that existential question, Miles places a quarter page newspaper ad seeking an ounce of proof of the afterlife with a $30,000 reward attached for one single person who can show him that there is an existence beyond death.  With the unconditional support of his mother, he scours through hundreds of fakes, solicitors, crazies, and the like until he narrows down the advert answerers to a few possibilities that have real promise.    As Miles investigate the claims of each one, he finds himself closer to the truth than he ever wanted to be and now he’s forever trapped between existential planes for the rest of his life.  

One of the longstanding and biggest questions in the universe is what happens to us when we die?  Where does our immortal soul, the individualistic essence of our being, wander to after the corporeal shell is empty?  Or does it just poof vanish, like an extinguished candle flame?  While all of these questions can be up for philosophical debate amongst the various, and often contentiously stubborn, religious groups and cultures, filmmakers Jesse Holland and Andy Mitten use the idea for their 2016 drama-horror “We Go On” that gives one possible, uncontested and cinematically electric, explanation as well as imparting a somethings are better left unknown dread.  The duo behind “YellowBrickRoad” returned to write-and-direct their sophomore U.S. production with a principal photography location shoot in Los Angeles.  “We Go On” is produced by Logan Brown, Irina Popov (“Chilling Visions:  5 Senses of Fear”), and Richard W. King (“The Witch in the Window”) under the production banner Filmed Imagination.

Miles Grissom is a mild-mannered and scared into solitude individual.  His loneliness, though not conspicuous to any extent, extends to his profession of a video editor of infomercials and other overnight television programming.  Agoraphobia and thanatophobia keeps Miles securely isolated in his modest apartment building where a recurring dream of a car accident sends his heart racing, a side effect of a core, back history moment yet to be explored when we meet Grissom, who is played by a stiff, but gets the psychologically wounded character across, Clark Freeman who has worked previously with Holland and Mitten on “YellowBrickRoad.”  “Cat People” and “Superman III” actress Annette O’Toole fills in as Miles’s ride-or-die, overprotective mother with a deep, dark secret of her own coated with a thin film of backseat family drama that’s doesn’t make her character shine like it should, especially being an important piece and highly influential to Grissom’s character.   Instead, the exposure of the secret and the impact it’s supposed to have is left on the backburner for Nelson to come into play, a greasy airplane janitor with deadly drug problem in what can be described as the best Sean Whalen role he never played with Jay Dunn filling those janitorial coveralls.  Dunn, who would go on to have a role in Andy Miton’s solo project, “The Harbinger,” dons slicked over balding hair, grimy teeth, and a deep, sunken eyes to be a bane toward Grissom’s existence and while Dunn doesn’t have dialogue for half of his onscreen time, he makes for a perfect hang around the background, meanspirited glarer.  The rest of the “We Go On” cast pop in and out as Grissom dwindles down his list of fakes and phonies with appearances from Laura Heisler (“YellowBrickRoad”), Giovana Zacarías, and the always wonderful on screen, “Gremlins 2’s” actor, John Glover, as a scientist trying to scare Grissom into giving him the reward money.

“We Go On” encases more drama elements than horror but the circling horror imagery enclosed has a beautifully grim layout with the minor touches, such as the slow turn of a hanging corpse or the statement of a ripe smell of a long dead overdose victim, that add a palpability, reinforcing the horrific moments and increases the ghastly tension.  The further we journey with Miles Grissom in his obsessive search, the grislier the imagery gets in what is essentially a two-part tale that firstly puts us and Miles on the hunt for life after death that quickly nosedives into a leeching supernatural torment.  Oddly, Grissom takes his newfound nuisance almost instantly in stride with not a ton of obstacle or self-realization work to warrant an acute enlightenment of how to handle an orbiting ghost that flashes disturbing images every other minute inside his mind and allows him to see between the planes of other gruesome ghosts stuck in limbo.  There are other examples of these sudden reversals or improvements that work against the pacing and don’t invite reward through struggle or pain in what is a walk in the park for Miles Grissom to see and handle ghosts being introduced to audiences as a man emotionally crippled by a traumatic, underlying fear.

Via Lightyear Entertainment, an American coast-to-coast independent film distributor, “We Go On” receives the Blu-ray treatment with an AVC encoded, 1080p high-definition resolution, BD25.  There’s little information regarding the remastering of the film with the only kick up being a digital restoration and enhanced visual effects and touchups to provide a smoother, cleaner picture presented in the film’s original anamorphic widescreen aspect ratio of 1.78:1.  Having never watched the DVD or first Blu-ray version, I have to take Lightyear’s restoration at face value which does have a crisp, clear picture full of natural color and graded with brilliance that sometimes makes the picture look too digitally sterile with not a ton of contouring shadows that can make the picture look depthless at times.  The infused visual digital f/x add about the same flavor, but the images never linger on screen, turning brevity to the film’s effects advantage.  No apparent issues with compression on the 25gig BD; textures modestly tactile despite the bright and airy grading and blacks are deeply saturated with spectrum banding.  The English language audio options include a lossy Dolby Digital 5.1 and a lossy Dolby 2.0 Stereo.  Dialogue is clear and projecting over the other layers but lacks that full-bodied, full-channeled trait of lossless.  Supernatural effects find distinctive ground and synch greatly with the sudden scares in transition between reality and the ghost realm.  Range and depth are favored by the remastering in the scenes that warrant both, such as the LAX’s airstrip takeoffs that considers the jet plane’s positioning in the background or above, increasing steadily the jet noise volume whenever a plan is in the extreme background to a more overhead location.  Also added for the remastered release are three new, feature-length commentaries:  two with the individual directors in Andy Mitton and Jesse Holland with the third houses the two stars, Annette O’Toole and Clark Freeman. The clear Blu-ray Amaray arranges a darker composition cover art than what the movie actually entails with an interior disc pressed with the same cover and a reversible cover that has one of the more memorable scenes from the feature. There are no insert materials included. The region free, unrated release has a runtime of 89 minutes.

Last Rites: You get what you ask for is the moral of the story maxim in Andy Mitton and Jesse Holland’s “We Go On,” a commercially technique, light-weight thriller with a thin lining of grim imagery between drug overdoses and suicide and adequate performances by Annette O’Toole and Clark Freeman that drops the everlasting question of desire and extreme, emotional fear for instant peace of mind, even if experiencing the terrifying truth firsthand.

Get Haunted as “We Go On” is now on Blu-ray!

The Stillness, the Quiet, and the Darkness evokes EVIL to Home In. “Skinamarink” reviewed! (Acorn Media International / Blu-ray)

The Kids Aren’t All Right in “Skinamarink” on Blu-ray!

A night of silence is disturbed when a young boy, Kevin, falls down the stairs of his two story home.  Rushed to the hospital to return to the same silence-soaked house, the restless boy and his sister Kaylee search for their dad who has suddenly vanished from his bedroom.  Doors, windows, and even the bathroom toilet has strangely disappeared right from sight.  Feeling scarred under the cover of isolated darkness, the siblings head downstairs to sleep on the couch softly lit b0 the fluorescent glow of the television set.  As they watch old cartoons, crayon, and build with large Legos, while catching a few ZZZs in between, strange noises resonate through the home, floor based objects are found stuck onto the walls and ceilings, and a twisted, omnipresent voice slips the siblings commands that exposes them the darkness from within the house.

Schismatically different from any other spine-taut chills ever experienced before, Kyle Edward Ball’s written-and-directed 2022 Shudder exclusive “Skinamarink” is no joyful and innocent children’s song in the filmmaker’s debut feature film.  Based and expanded upon Ball’s 2020 short film entitled “Heck,” viewers will be enveloped and swallowed by the very core of childhood fears that plays like a fever dream, or a distant nightmare, where faces are a blur, spatial direction is nothing more than theoretical concept, and the voices around us are distorted, muffled, and cold.  “Skinamarink” offers little warmth under constant blanket of darkness and leaves no room for hope when parents are removed from the picture.  What’s Ball leaves behind is primordial and innate terror that rarely can be seen straightforward and lucid.  The Canadian picture, which was filmed in Ball’s childhood home in Alberta, is a micro-budget production of ERO Picture Company, distributed by Bayview Entertainment, Shudder, and IFC Midnight, crowdfunded by Seed & Spark contributors and produced by “Texas Road” producer, Dylan Pearce.

Shot over the course of a week’s time, “Skinamarink” works more like CCTV footage recording the static surroundings within the scope of the lens.  The cast is small, rarely visible, and when visible, they are often obscured or never directly focused upon to mint atmospheric dread.  Two parents.  Two children.  A nuclear family becomes the objective of an omnipresent, ominous presence, but there are concerning questions about the integrity of the family that Ball incites with clues of broken household.  Father and mother briefly make an appearance, or with one of them just their voice, throughout the course of the night, restricted their attendance exclusively around the children’s perspective that makes viewers shrink and become engulfed in childish fears – sometimes they are adult fears as well – of the dark and of being separated from parents.  Lucas Paul and Dali Rose Tetreault as kids Kevin and Kaylee kill their seldomly seen performances with the patter of little feet running through the house and up-and-down stairs, their soft, angelic voices whispering to each other and calling out for their father, and when briefly in frame, or at least the back of their heads, they manage to complete the succinct shot just in the way Ball intends to secrete fear from our every pore amongst the quiet and stillness.  “Skinamarink” is not a character-driven film in the least as Ball cherishes a chilling atmospheric horror so father (Ross Paul, Lucas’s real life dad) and mother (Jamie Hill, “Grotesque”) receive what essentially is cameo roles to establish a feeling of lost when they’re gone and are perhaps the easiest roles the two actors have ever taken and turn out to be the most eerily effective on screen and over the audio track.

“Skinamarink” experiments more with surroundings, audio and visual senses, and common inborn anxieties rather than progressed by traditional methods of character dynamics and that is where the film will be conflict-ridden and divisive amongst the niche group of diehard horror fans.  General audiences will find “Skinamarink” to be a bore without much popcorn pageantry to keep short-attention spans entertained and a disembodied villain.  Slow burn horror usually has an elevated element to it and Kyle Edward Ball certainly incorporates an open for interpretation access door for the deep-dive genre conspiratorialists to work overtime on reasoning and explaining “Skinamarink” to the masses still trying to process what they just experienced themselves after watching the film.  Theories will run amok with the most prominent being Kevin’s fall that reduced him to a coma state and what we experience is all in Kevin’s conscious-cracked cerebrum trying attempting interpret, at best guess, the dissolution of mom and dad’s relationship.  Again, this is just a theory as Ball aims for ambiguity to fester fathomable, one-solution explanations.   Perhaps in a type of narrative the world is not ready for, but in my opinion, “Skinamarink” fills in what is void from modern day horror, a uniquely fresh and chance-taking pervasive eidolon scare package to revitalize genre numbness with slow burn phobias.

An original parapsychological paralyzer, “Skinamarink” arrives on a Blu-ray home video courtesy of Acorn Media International, the acquired UK distribution company of RLJ Entertainment.  Presented in a widescreen aspect ratio of 2.39:1, the AVC encoded BD25 sustains a purposefully intended lo-fi A/V feature, set to the date tune of 1995, much like when SOV quality films were abundantly popular because of their cost value and accessibility.  If you’re expecting depth of detail, you won’t get it from “Skinamarink’s” dense static approach that all but eliminates object definition.  Delineation is scarce to an effective scare tactic to which Ball tones the film; yet, the static is not, for lack of a better word, static as the current changes within the blips, increasing and decreasing visibility for desired poltergeist potency, if poltergeist is what we want to call it.  Set entirely in nighttime, sleepy home, the basking glow of tube television is the only semblance of color that emits a faint blue luminous while antiquated cartoons provide flat caricature coloring.  Certain scenes are shot in obvious night vision with the spherical focus that becomes unnatural in the frame, but there’s really nothing natural about Ball’s auteur style.  The lo-fi style choice continues into the English DTS-HD 5.1 surround mix that doesn’t exercise every channel.  Instead, we’re back to canned content with intentional hissing, popping, and distorted tracks.  Aside from a couple of innate audio recordings of a squeaking closet door, all the other ambient audio and dialogue is done after the fact in post-production to be rendered appropriately misshaped and muddled.  There’s also no score, retaining realism of a hushed house sound design to pay heed to soft footsteps and other delicate and mortifying milieu noises.  Depending on your audio setup, subtitles may be your friend here as the whispers are so low, they’re nearly inaudible.  There are a handful of scenes that have burned in English subtitles for that very reason, but full menu English captioning is available too for the minute amount of dialogue.  Special features only include an audio commentary track with the director and director of photography Jamie McRae.  Acorn Media’s release mirrors the U.S.’s RLJ Entertainment’s Blu-ray with the exception of a slightly thicker Blu-ray snapper. The front cover denotes essentially what to expect in the future, a low-resolution and a blue-toned, dark, inverted screenshot image of the young boy; this scene also translates to the disc art.  Encoded with a region B playback, “Skinamarink” comes UK certified 15 for strong horror and sustained threat in its 100-minute runtime.  Take my advice:  there’s nothing quite like “Skinamarink” outside the experimental gallimaufry but it’s sleepy time nature should not be viewed at the late-night weary hours or else it’ll lull you into a nightmare of your own.

The Kids Aren’t All Right in “Skinamarink” on Blu-ray!

The Death of a Daughter Leads Down to a Psychological Path of EVIL! “The Haunting of Julia” reviewed! (Imprint / Blu-ray)

Limited Edition of “The Haunting of Julia” Available at Amazon.com!

This morning was like any other as the Julia rustles up breakfast for her all-business husband Magnus and their lively vivacious daughter Kate, but when Kate violent chokes on a piece of apple and Julie performs a bloody, untried tracheotomy in a state of panic in order to save her daughter’s life, their lives are forever changed as Katie dies in Julia’s arms. For weeks, Julia’s melancholic depression commits her to hospital care. When she’s ready for release per the Doctor’s recommendation, Julia avoids returning to Magnus as their relationship was never a mutually loving one but rather a normal route connected by the presence of their daughter Kate. In order to restart her life, Julia separates from a controlling Magnus and purchases a magnificent London house only to then be plagued by ghostly occurrences she suspects is the work of her late daughter. What Julia comes to find out is the troubling history of her newfound home.

Mia Farrow solidified herself as a genre actress by starring in the archetype for films revolving around the prince of darkness, Satan, in 1968 with “Rosemary’s Baby.”  Unlikely seeing herself as a prominent woman of a notable rite horror, Farrow quickly understood her value in the genre as a complex female lead in the unsettling and gothic protuberance atmosphere style.  Nearly a decade later, Farrow stars in the Richard Loncraine directed “The Haunting of Julia,” similar only to the menacing supernatural child component but digs deeper in manipulative complacency, psychological guilt, and of that distorted reality created by the stout motherhood connection.  The “Slade of Flame” director set his sights off of Rock’N’Roll inspired dramas around the ugliness of the music industry and onto the filmic adaptation of the Peter Straub novel “Julia,” penned by the Dave Humphries and “Xtro” trilogy director Harry Bromley Davenport.  The joint United Kingdom and Canadian production, titled originally as “Full Circle” in the UK, is produced by Peter Fetterman (“The Exorcism of Hugh”), under Fetterman Productions, and Alfred Pariser (“Shivers”) of the Canadian Film Development Corporation. 

Mia Farrow’s distinct reactions and acting style very much engulfs the majority of horror experienced in “The Haunting of Julia,” as well as exhibited in “Rosemary’s Baby.”  The glassy eyed, long stares, the frightened, coiled emotions that swirl seemingly out of control, and the switch-gear ability to be strong and compliant in tense-riddled situations that just only involve herself in the scene.  While “Rosemary’s Baby’ and “The Haunting of Julia” may exact the same gothic aperture for child-themed horror and both are adapted literary works, “The Haunting of Julia” unfolds not in the anticipating of child birth but rather postmortem with the aftermath affliction of a child’s sudden and terrible demise that occurred in the frantic mother’s misguided embrace to take a knife right to her child’s jugular in hopes of dislodging an air denying obstruction.  This opening scene shocks us right into a grim framework that simultaneously divides trust and empathy for Julia as circumstances unveil what we might suspect all along, that Julia’s mental health suffered immensely.  What pushes Julia into undue stress is her controlling, dispassionate husband Magnus. Played by “Black Christmas’s” Keir Dullea.  Dullea pulls off the unsympathetic impassive father who just lost a child and can’t see the underlying psychological unrest his wife suffers.  In short, Magnus attempts to gatekeep Julia’s damaged psyche by trying to strong arm her back into normalcy, even going as far as manipulating Julia and his own sister Lily (Jill Bennett, “The Skull”) into slipping his foot into the door with a wife who fled from his grasp as soon as released from the hospital for essentially shutting down after their daughter’s death.  That toxic pressure is coupled with the seemingly unnatural incidences in her new home that clash her old life, chained to an unconsciously broken family, with her new life that seeks to decompress from a pair of diverse traumas.  “The Haunting of Julia” rounds out the cast with Tom Conti (“Blind Revenge”), Mary Morris (“Prison Without Bars”), Anna Wing (“Xtro”), Pauline Jameson (“Night Watch”), Peter Sallis (“Frankenstein:  The True Story”), Susan Porrett (“Plunkett & Macleane), Edward Hardwicke (“Venom”), and Sophie Ward (“Book of Blood”).

More or less forgotten by U.S. audiences due to no fault of the film’s own acclamatory measure or the audiences willing participation, the international produced “The Haunting of Julia” wasn’t publicized in the U.S. despite the two American leads – Mia Farrow and Keir Dullea.  Richard Loncraine’s film has incredible merit to the idea of a mother’s loss within the construct of gothic horror, which, in another aspect of unfathomable irony, resembled more closely to the American gothic style of the supernatural sequestered dark house.  Yet, this house is in London, wedged in like row homes, but as mentioned numerous times in the film, the house has distinction and grandeur that overlooks the buried ghostly history of the previous owners.  Julia absorbs the stories, filters through them, and comes to believe her own daughter is either trying to reach out to her or is hellbent on revenge for the amateur hour tracheotomy.  Loncraine does the phenomenal job of shocking our core with the early choking death scene of Julia’s daughter but once that dust settles, the pacing becomes more rhythmic to the point of building, slowly, Julia’s encounters with unknown forces that, at first, are just seemingly bizarre happenstances of left on bedroom plug-in radiators and playground visions of a girl that resembles her daughter cutting up another kid’s pet turtle.  These events play into their evident conspicuousness to push audiences deep into Julia’s mysterious milieu, officially sealing something isn’t right with the clairvoyant Ms. Flood’s scarred-screaming vision of a bloody child.  Julie become engrossed into learning the truth, eager to determine if that child is her late daughter and is fed tidbits of the house’s history that not only continues her own investigation but other research into other house tragedies that fork-split her presumptions.  As all this noise tornadoes around Julia, the stories, the occurrences, the deaths, viewers will never deduce to a reason closer to home, to Julia herself, until possibly too late at the end with a grisly open-ended finale that what Julia has been experience may have been done at her own forlorn hand. 

Atmospherically sound, undoubtedly creepy, and spearheaded by strong performances, “The Haunting of Julia” is the unspoken heroine of late 1970s supernatural horror – until now.  Imprint and Via Vision of Australia release a limited edition, high definition 1080p, 2-disc Blu-ray set with an AVC encoded BD50 of a new 4K scan transfer of the original 35mm negative. Presented in an anamorphic widescreen 2.35:1, the 4K scan is super sharp with virtually no compression issues on the formatted storage. Blacks, and negative spaces in general, are rich and void, despite Peter Hannan’s low-contrast and hazy surreal veneer that definitely plays into a psychotronic dreaminess. The resolution goes unaltered, and the natural grain maintains the original theatrical presentation for a revered 4k transfer. The English LPCM 2.0 mono track mix audibly delineates a viable one input split to make the dialogue and all other tracks comprehendible. Despite some slight here and there hissing, dialogue is amped up nicely for better resolved results that still remains mingled with the ambience in an all for one, one for all audio format. “Space Trucker’s” Colin Towns’s insidious and distinctly composed soundtrack reaches into the recesses of soul and strikes at the very nerve of fear with an unsettling score, perfectly suited for a mother drowning in the pitfalls of a supernatural sanctum. Optional English Hard-of-Hearing subtitles are available. The first disc special features include two audio commentaries – one with director Richard Loncraine and Simon Fitzjohn and the second, brand new, commentary with authors Jonathan Rigby and Kevin Lyons, new interviews with composer Colin Towns Breaking the Circle, cinematographer Peter Hannan Framing the Circle, and Hugh Harlow Joining the Circle, a new video essay by film historian Kat Ellinger Motherhood & Madness: Mia Farrow and the Female Gothic, the original trailer, and an option to play the film with either “The Haunting of Julia” or “Full Circle” opening title. The second disc is a compact disc of Colin Town’s 11-track score featuring 20 minutes of previously unheard music out of 60:52 of music. The limited-edition set comes with a neat lenticular cover on front of the hard box of what we assume is Julia’s ghost glaring at you from all angles as her eyes follow you. Inside is a clear Blu-ray snapper that’s a little thicker than your traditional snapper and comes with a built-in secondary disc holder. The cover art is simply Mia Farrow cowering outside the bathroom door but the reversible cover displays an original “Full Circle” poster as the front image. The disc arts are illustrative and compositions with the feature presentation disc the same as hard box lenticular without it being lenticular and CD pressed with Mia Farrow’s face in the background and a child’s cymbal banging toy in the foreground. Also in the hard box is a 44-page booklet feature an historical background essay by critic/writer Sean Hogan that has black and white and color photos and various poster art. The film, which comes in as Imprint catalogue # 218, runs at 97 minutes, is unrated, and, is assumed, for region A playback as it’s an Australian release – there is no indication on the package. “The Haunting of Julia” is Mia Farrow’s shining, yet lost effort post Roman Polanksi and is a remarkable look at subtle disconnection from extreme guilt when in every corner, every sign, is thought to be about your lost child.

Limited Edition of “The Haunting of Julia” Available at Amazon.com!