The Roommate (2011) Dir: Christian E. Christiansen

Don’t you just love it when they remake movies without crediting the original?
The plot:
A young fashion student heads to college and is saddled with a new roommate. To begin with, the roommate seems just a bit quirky; quiet, timid, not at all outgoing.
You know, shy-like.
We've all met them.
Soon, though, the roommate begins to exhibit disturbing behaviour and before you can say Jennifer Jason Leigh, she's a full fledged psycho, obsessed with the fashion student and determined that they be together.
Forever.
That's right, it's Single White Female for the new generation.
The generation that don't demand that their scary movies are at all scary.
The generation that don't demand that their actors can actually...erm...act.
The generation that don't seem to realise that this movie had already been made, some 19 years earlier, and in a far superior manner.
Let's look at the evidence.
1: Jennifer Jason Leigh is not in this movie. Now, whilst Leighton Meester is actually OK in her role as the manic-depressive pussy steamer, she simply can't compete with Leigh's deliciously deviant take on the same character.
2: This just isn't scary. Plain and simple. Where Single White Female was edgy and dark and had a simmering air of menace, this is tepid and weak and lily-livered.
3: The cast are all so damn good looking, none of it seems real. Sure, Fonda and Leigh are hardly bad to look at, but these freaks, both male and female, are all so photogenic you spend most of the movie hoping that the dormitory sprinkler system suddenly activates and sprays them all with fucking acid.
4: There is a lack of real crescendo. Where SWF gradually built to it's finale, this one trickles along then just goes BANG, again diluting any sense of menace that should have been present.
Whilst not the worst film I've seen this year, it will probably make the bottom ten when the year's done.
OK for 16 year olds is my verdict, for the rest of us just fairly tedious.

2 out of 5

Retro Puppet Master (1999) Dir: David DeCoteau

Seventh in the Puppet Master franchise, this is a prequel and is perhaps the most unusual, featuring something of a romantic feel throughout, as well as a noticeable lack of nastiness on the part of the tiny ones.
The plot: Set during the Nazi occupation of Europe, Puppet Master extraordinaire Andre Toulon is holed up in a Swiss hotel, and recounts to his beloved puppets the tale of a woman he loved greatly, as well as how he was taught the secret to animate his listeners by a mysterious Egyptian sorcerer, Afzel, himself on the run from wrathful Egyptian God Sutekh, furious that Afzel has stolen the gift of life.
As you can imagine, it's pretty fanciful stuff, but it is not without its charm.
Greg Sestero is a likeable enough young version of Andre Toulon and Jack Donner makes for a plausible sorcerer, if that statement isn't an oxymoron!
It drags its heels, however, and the lack of out and out viciousness is a tad disappointing.
Still, I've got a bit of a soft spot for all things Full Moon (the Production Company) and, even though it's clear Charles Band (creator of the franchise, and the man behind the overall story arc) has only ever had one idea, it's a decent enough one, that usually keeps me watching.
A Puppet Master movie you can watch with Grandma?
You bet her withered ass.

3 out of 5

The Gate (1987) Dir: Tibor Takács

Something of a cult classic, this one, and a firm favourite in the Smell the Cult household.
The plot: Two young lads accidentally open up a portal to the underworld and awaken centuries old demons by reciting the words from a heavy metal album. The daft sods.
That's your lot in terms of story, but this is bloody entertaining stuff.
The special effects, whilst a little clunky, are great to watch, the little critters that pour from the portal looking like a cross between the Ghoulies from, erm, Ghoulies and Lotney 'Sloth' Fratelli from The Goonies, animated via the stop-motion technique, the overlay process not particularly good so it is clear as day that they are not actually there in the house, the young actors having to scream and wail and holler to an empty room.
They probably felt a bit silly.
They probably felt a bit silly and just did it for the money, anyway, not for the love, not for the craft, the grasping little pricks.
With a decent, 80's synth soundtrack, a fake 80's thrash track from an album called The Dark Book, and more fashion faux pas' than you can shake a pair of fluorescent leggings at, this is campy, retro, feel good horror. No-one actually gets hurt, no-one is ever likely to die and, even when the odd bit of badness does occur, you know that it will all be set right by the end of the movie.
With only one real moment of gruel, when our hero Glen sticks his hand through his fake father's face, and said face begins to peel off, this is certainly not one that will have you leaving the lights on at night.
Nevertheless, it's a fun ride, and far superior to most modern horror.

4 out of 5

Boogeyman (2005) Dir: Stephen T. Kay

Sometimes modern horror really pisses me off.
Here's how it works:
Steal the shell of an idea from J-horror, particularly in terms of the jaggedy-spiky-twitchy effects cast in a green-grey hue at the moments that are supposed to be blood chilling, you know, to really lay it on thick so that the audience has absolutely no doubt that 'Vis is v momint yume ment to be scayrd.'
Make one or two preposterous assumptions.
Assumption 1: No-one in the audience has ever seen a horror movie before.
Assumption 2: It's OK to replace genuine dynamics and dread with 'jump' moments facilitated by a sudden screeching blast, sharp and jarring, thus waking the viewers up from the near vegetative state they find themselves in after struggling through the cinematic equivalent of diarrhoea you are smearing all over the screen.
Added to the assumptions comes the ridiculous notion that your main 'menace' can come in the form of a CGI only monster that has about as much of a chill factor as the crack of my buttocks after a lengthy run around the park.
Learn, you fucking morons, learn. If even the mighty David Fincher struggles to make a CGI beastie frightening in his Alien attempt, how are you talentless droons going to stand any chance of making it work.
Oh yeah, and to ensure you know that he is frightening, every time the eponymous Boogeyman (Boogie Man would have been more terrifying, a demon from the fifth layer of hell that quite literally funks his victims into raw, bloody submission) the beast screeches as loudly as the dim witted studio execs permit by law for fear of litigation, joining in with the 'musical' cacophony so that your ears are rendered obsolete, fingers stuffed into your lugholes to block out the din, a sound so ferocious its vibrations on your very tongue mean you can actually taste the decibels.
Jesus covered in foam, I HATED this.

1 out of 5