⭐️⭐️⭐️1/2
A young videographer gets his hands on some cheap video equipment and, although both of the items don’t work, they both contain SD cards with footage of two missing boys on it. The two lads were out making a documentary on a local urban legend and the videographer is shocked to find that he may have discovered proof that the two young men found what they were looking for (I have a hard time finding my phone on a good day but somehow every youthful dope with a camera manages to wander out into the woods and find whatever supernatural entity they’ve been hunting for for all of a day). Our narrator edited together the raw footage into a rough cut and has made it available for us, the viewer at home. Kurt and John are out searching for the Goat Man, a 7-foot tall half man and half goat who wields an axe. I, for one, would never go looking for such a thing but I am no longer a young idiot and I don’t have any access to camera equipment. “What about your phone?” You may ask. Well, you obviously weren’t paying attention because I already told you I can’t find the fucking thing. So, Kurt and John visit various local spots where the Goat Man has been seen (allegedly) and Kurt rambles on and lightly berates his cameraman. He also hates the town and their selfish mentality when it comes to crime and the homeless. He attempts to tie that into the Goat Man legend but it’s grasping at straws that are more non-existent than loose. The village is also trying to stop the building of a new film studio which further pisses off our host. That brief foray into teen angst finally ends and the duo head to the Goat Man’s underpass to light some candles and use a Ouija board. Nothing happens and when night falls they march their asses into the woods. Considering that the combined age of these two brave idiots involved is probably less that the age of your humble writer, this is a shockingly solid bit of found footage horror. It takes its time but the videographers defy the odds and manage to not be overly obnoxious knobs (they’re teenage boys so they’re going to be obnoxious anyways) as they sink into dark waters they are vastly unprepared to tread. Same goes for the poor sap who found the footage because he learns nothing from the exploits of the two dopes he just watched come into contact with something malicious. A smart use of audio scares add a level of tension you don’t find in a large amount of micro-budget shaky-cam terrors and considering how early we are in the career of H. Owen Richardson I have some high hopes. There’s more to check out and I’m looking forward to jumping into his filmography.
⭐️⭐️⭐️
In Arvores National Park, a young woman by the name of Lennon gets a job as a back-country ranger with the hope of figuring out what the hell happened to her sister. The little girl vanished in the area years ago and Ranger Lennon has never been able to put that tragedy to rest. So into the vast wilderness she goes, and it may be easy on the eyes but it sure as shit ain’t easy on the mind. Isolation, harsh conditions and the unknowns all factor into the trials of Lennon’s new position and it would seem that finally getting answers about her sibling was the worst thing that could happen. Lennon goes exploring for a couple days to investigate a little and runs into one of her coworkers (who seems like he could be a creep) after she gets discombobulated. Weeks of searching are uneventful, then one night somebody frantically knocks on her small cabin door, shouting that they need help. The injured man runs off into the woods and she races after him. He speaks of a missing friend who vanished into thin air from their camp and a search is on the next day. She disobeys an order from her superior and goes looking for the missing girl, who she finds completely disheveled and covered in blood. They’re happy the search was successful but they’re pissed she didn’t stay put so they order her to stay at her station and not got back out into the surrounding wilderness. She disobeys again and things spiral out of control almost immediately and not in a way that makes it easy to keep your feet firmly planted in reality. It works well to establish a wonderful foreboding atmosphere in the early going and then sadly stumbles when it gets to revealing the oddness at play. Luckily, there’s still some effective set pieces contained within and a striking moment scattered in there, so it doesn’t feel like a betrayal of anything. Not so much as a fumble as it is a slight miscommunication. The Missing 411 series will tell you that there’s a mass conspiracy involving national parks and points at everything from alternate dimensions to Bigfoot and wild men. The theories have picked up steam in recent years because the idea is an interesting one and it’s easier for humans to believe something out of their control and actively working against them is causing all this trauma. There’s some weird shit admittedly, but nature is vast, chaotic and weird on its own. Do I buy into a mass conspiracy? No, that would take a level of secrecy and commitment that I have no faith in humans of being capable of harnessing. But like I said, nature is fucking weird, so who knows what the hell is out there. Also, people are dumb as fuck, so I’m guessing most of these missing folks were on a one-way road to early termination anyways. The movie does a fine job with handling the wild theories out there but it doesn’t exactly adapt well to the screen. But hey, Wai Ching Ho is there as the head ranger and she’s fucking great.
⭐️⭐️⭐️
The violence of mankind has led to the “wrath of the female”. So says an awkward detective in a trench coat, speaking directly to the camera and standing uncomfortably in front of a barren wall. He then warns us about the violent crime spree we’re about to witness perpetrated by teenage girls who definitely confused boredom for angst. The film is dedicated to Susan B. Anthony but one of the girls also salutes photos of Hitler she has on her wall so I’m gonna say she can go fuck herself… the Nazi, not Susan B. Anthony. Afterwards we get a sloppy introduction of the gals all spliced together by an unsure hand and not exactly sure what it wants to rebel against. I mean, the patriarchy is definitely an issue but it also feels like rebellion for the sake of rebellion which can be messy. But it’s not really an issue because the aura of rot corrupting the whole film is enhanced by how unfocused everything is. We’re introduced to various awful males (a teenage smut tycoon, a drunk driver, shouting bar patrons) as the girl gang drink, smoke and go to school. Eventually they wander around the streets, visiting violence upon idiots. The detective talks and a psychiatrist also joins in to warn us of the violence and danger of women. Not convincingly or anything but there’s no level of professionalism here at all… that may sound like an insult but I mean it in a good way. We’re not looking for professionalism here, we’re wallowing along with everyone in the nihilistic enthusiasm of this completely trashy bit of basement entertainment. Castration, flagellation, bowling ball destruction, genital trauma, run-over babies, man-napping, extended scenes of driving, ninja roulette, a power drill up the pooper, ear-straining audio and the definite possibility that everything was shot with a potato are some of the atrocities that await the viewer. It’s enjoyable if you’re good with what’s to be expected from the dumpster fire that is this particular cinematic void but it’s undeniably jarring and its welcome wears thin as it carries on.
⭐️⭐️1/2
In Point Pleasant, WV a prank on a friend goes fatally wrong and a group of teens figure the smart move is to cover up their responsibility in the poor kid’s death. 10 years later, one of those teenagers has become a journalist and her boss sends her back to her hometown to cover the 10th annual Mothman Festival (if you’re not familiar, it’s about the only thing Point Pleasant is famous for. Well, that and a tragic bridge accident but the two things go hand in hand). Faster than you can say “I know what you did nine summers ago” the journalist is back in town and strange things start going down. Katherine’s old flame looks to reignite that fire that was snuffed out when... you know, they accidentally murdered a kid and then lied about it but the romantic shenanigans are put on hold when the winged cryptid kills the fuck out of the guilty goobers. The thing pops up in reflective surfaces (a reflection of guilt... so deep!) and its victims end up very dead. A local loon has some answers thanks to him being one of the only survivors of a mothman encounter and spills that the old fly-guy is an evil spirit summoned by a Native American because of course it is. Jewel Staite is always welcome in this house and makes our hero very easy to root for. The monster is not the best quality digital creation but it does get a lot of screen time and I’m all for that. Nothing special but it does get goofy as it winds down.
⭐️1/2
Five college friends gather for a small reunion in an infamous Italian castle. Local legend holds that the lady of the manor, Johanna of Anjou, was into witchcraft and caused a nasty drought and famine in the area. Villagers being villagers, they hung her ass and, persecuted witches being persecuted witches, Johanna threw out a curse and then killed herself. The curse was said to be placed on her journal and a night of drunken curiosity leads to the group finding the ancient book in a forbidden room and unleashing the pissed off spirit of Johanna of Anjou. The nightmare scenario is all caught on the hand camera of one of the Italian idiots (with some phone and security footage added). A sure way to spice up any horror outing is to utilize the atmospheric European architecture and that gives this standard fare a leg up in the found footage department. Unfortunately, the characters are all annoying which makes it difficult to get through the stretches where nothing is happening but these derps hanging out or getting frustrated with each other… and that’s the majority of the film. The supernatural entity is pretty cool, which makes it even more offensive that she’s not featured all that much. American audiences hate reading and unfortunately that’s where the market for this shit is, so we have a bunch of Italians speaking English so a lot of them sound like they have an extra chromosome (the man behind the camera acts like he has special needs so it may not be the second language in his case) but it’s not their fault. Hell, I can barely speak English and that’s the only language I got. At least we can take comfort in knowing Italy can do found footage just as bad as we here in the states.
aka Killer Shark/Flying Jaws/There’s Sharks in Steve’s Thwamp
⭐️⭐️⭐️
As animal smugglers attempt to transport a species of ancient shark, they fuck things up and accidentally unleash the beast into the Louisiana bayou. Not good that the community is only one week out from their popular Gator Fest and the locals are beginning to get gobbled. Much to the chagrin of Sheriff Watson (hell yes! It’s Robert Davi). Not just because it’s his jurisdiction, nope, he was also behind the smuggling and is trying to keep it a secret. So when the first local turns up badly mangled, he attempts to shift the blame in the direction of a local woman (restaurant-owner Kristy fuckin’ Swanson) who has a gator attraction on site at her restaurant and keeps rebuffing the sheriff’s advances. Unfortunately, she took a shot at the shark and the fact that the freshly dead man had a bit of a scuffle with the restaurant’s gator wrangler the day prior, makes the suspicion justified. We know what’s behind it but it’ll take everyone else a little bit of time to catch up with us. Anyways, the shark ate some gators who have tracking devices in them so Swanson, her gator-wrangling brother, her boyfriend (the restaurant’s bartender) and a mysterious stranger who has the hots for Swanson (don’t blame him) played by D.B. Sweeney go hunting. There’s also a gaggle of sexy teens partying on the lake because we have to make sure there’s plenty of chow for our marine hero… I mean villain. Swanson’s likable younger sister is hanging out with the drunk dopes because they took off on their boat when she tried to warn them to stay off of the water, blessing us with a reason to give a shit about the group of victims-to-be. The chubby/nerdy chef figures out the shark is heading to Gator Fest and Wade Boggs turns up as a deputy. Louisiana charm and a giant digital shark (sometimes an immobile rubber head) mix well, especially when you get to spend a lot of the movie lovingly gazing at Kristy Swanson… there’s also an asshole bartender who resembles the unholy spawn of John Stamos and TJ Miller hanging around, so it has that going for it. The shark jumps out of the water and bites the head right off of a peeping deputy (somehow, not Wade Boggs) and I dig that.
aka Paranormal Visitors
⭐️⭐️⭐️1/2
A family’s dream home turns into a real scream home (please Lord, forgive me for that) when the picture-perfect new start ends up hiding a malevolent force. Husband/papa Frank is kind of an ass but I don’t really blame him when his toddler son Peter is such a chooch. Wife/mama Sara is a journalist and definitely looks like a product of the 80’s. There’s also a pudgy-cheeked daughter whose name I don’t remember… she’s a saint compared to the insufferable Peter. Things start out fine, with little projects getting completed and the quartet easing in to their new surroundings but a few troubling occurrences plant a seed of doubt that “happily ever after” is in the cards for the family. On top of Frank’s work pressure (which is adding to the money pressures) some unexplainable things are happening in the walls of the new home. All the newly installed wallpaper falls off in the children’s room which could probably be explained away by inadequate installation judging by how much goofing off Frank was doing when he was putting it up. But, after a night of heavy drinking (Frank blew his business presentation), Frank hears some disturbing noises coming from the walls of his new home. When he attempts a second go at wallpapering, he uses double the glue but in the time it takes him to have an argument with his wife about foolishly buying a new house and car before his business deal went through, the paper is off the walls again. More noises lead him to the creepy-ass attic and the probable location for ground zero of paranormal spookiness… the room hidden behind a camouflaged locked door. Frank begins to believe the place is haunted but his wife thinks he’s nuts… can’t say I blame her… Frank is definitely losing his cool and drinking more. Sara is more concerned that her hubby is spending his time obsessing over spirits instead of coming up with a new idea for his business associates… Sara is a very smart woman. It doesn’t help that all the spooky shit is only being experienced by him, like wet footprints in an empty room disappearing completely when he screams for his wife to take a look. It gets so bad, Frank reaches out to a ghost hunter for assistance after reading an article of his in Occult Magazine. Pervert-lookin’ Allen arrives the next day to lend a helping hand with the otherworldly tomfoolery (still wouldn’t trust him around the kiddos). He sets up his equipment and camps down for the night with Frank, sharing a spooky story and multiple beers. The equipment gets triggered and Allen tracks the energy to the secret attic room because of course that’s where every awful thing is originating from. Allen demands they see what’s behind the door and what they find is a disturbing clutter of masks, vines, cobwebs, creepy paintings and a journal pointing to a sinister history. The two men flee when a cold wind kicks up and Frank wants to wake up his family and nope the fuck out. Allen thinks more research is the way to go and he has a laser tool that can not only manifest energy in the house but can also zap the spirit (after all, it’s just collected energy) with enough of a shock to dispel it completely. As much as questionable “science” may be at play, I guess it’s worth a shot. Hilariously, this contraption leads to the two men dodging laser blasts from the malfunctioning machine. A death on the property brings a police inspector into the fold and he’s not buying the “homicide by ghost” explanation. With their world crumbling and her husband’s troubling insistence of the home being haunted, Sara runs out on her husband and kids (like I said, she’s a smart lady and sure it may not be the children’s fault but they suck, so fuck ‘em). With no way out and a bad storm hitting, papa and the kids seem stuck on the premises… at least he has his hands on the paranormal investigator’s arsenal. That’s a good thing, because whatever the hell had been calling the place its domain is about to show it’s ugly self. Mama comes back, things get violent and Frank comes off like a broke-ass Ghostbuster as the crescendo hits. A banana-loving mailman with a ponytail shows up for some comedic bits, the hero resembles a homely Antonio Banderas and it’s never really concerned with getting your pulse racing as it plays with the gender roles one would usually find in this type of offering. It’s a slow-brewing haunted house thriller that benefits from a family who may not be all-around likable but are definitely believable in their actions and the right amount of supernatural maliciousness raising a threat before the standout ghoul makes an appearance in the final minutes.
