FrightFest 2026 - Day 3

 FrightFest Day 3 

 

Labyrinth

Ryûhei Kitamura, 2026, USA 

 ‘Saw’ style horror with crowd-pleasing ultra-gore, weak script, dodgy performances, and tedious vigilante-coz-the-system-is-broken endorsement. Busy camerawork and pacing keeps things entertaining but it is routine, tired stuff. By the time it goes Fulci 'The Beyond', it's gone full supernatural-fascist.

 

Dead Reset 

Stewart Sparke, 2026, UK

Starts strong enough - time loop; broad villain; practical effects and decent production design - but, having never played the game it is based upon although exposition dumps are expected, I wonder if it too stops the monster rampage for unconvincing romance and surgery? Made with evident love but only diverting.

 

Ithaqua

Casey Walker, 2026, Canada

Benefits hugely from its snow-and-blood palette; less so from insisting on hokey villainous pronouncements, which is a shame as it takes time to avoid outright stereotypes elsewhere. Nevertheless enjoyable, ambitious and interesting, if a little muddled. The background of starvation, culture and class war in an unforgiving landscape give this strong thematic foundations, often looks impressive and Kevin Durand’s hulking performance stands out.

Grind

Ed Doughtery, Brea Grant, Chelsea Stardust, 2026, USA

A highly entertaining anthology with many good lines and a surrealistic bent. Just the right side of zany. Perhaps the delivery guy story ends up the most disturbing and strongest with its anger most targeted at layers of exploitation. However surreal it gets, and however bright and off-the-wall its veneer, these cannot quite distract from its outrage at the manipulations and humiliations of modern work life.

The Nameless Ballad

Federico Zampaglione, 2026 Italy

Tortured genius haunted by a possessive piano tune. Mental health and romantic issues ensue, mostly relying on dream sequences and loud stings to get its point across, even throwing in toad p.o.v. at one point. But otherwise nothing new. Nice house, cute dog, but a film whose lack of imagination is exceeded only by its dullness.

Ghost in the Cell

Joko Anwar, 2026, Indonesia 

Bloody, silly, and often very funny (even characters stop a mass fight at one moment to be confused at the splatter). It is as interested in making its inmates dance as it is in Indonesian political corruption. It also has the most amusingly randomly scored and edited shower scene. Crowd pleasing comedy for gorehounds. 

 

Frankenweenie

Frankenweenie

Director ~ Tim Burton

Writers ~ Tim Burton, Leonard Ripps

1984, b/w, USA

Stars ~ Shelley Duvall, Daniel Stern, Barret Oliver

Tim Burton’s 1984 short shows that his approach was already clearly determined: he’d been making shorts since the Seventies, including an adaptation of ‘Hansel and Gretel’ and ‘Vincent’, about a boy that wants to be Vincent Price and succumbing to his taste in fantasy. Burton was the one to turn to for cookie dark fantasy and made him a poster boy for fun Goths. This sensibility is perfectly epitomised in ‘Frankenweenie’s central image of what appears to be a mini-golf course in a pet cemetery.

‘Frankenweenie’ features Shelley Duvall and the kid from ‘The Neverending Story’, Barrett Oliver, and a young Sofia Coppola. There are several distinctive shots, not only the mini-windmill and the car bearing down on the dogs-eye-view, but my favourite being young Victor’s brainwave framed between two electrically stimulated frog’s legs. 

When his beloved dog is hit by a car and dies, all Victor wants is his late dog back. Through the influence of Mary Shelley, James Whale and old Universal horrors, Victor brings his dog back to life: the attic laboratory made from ordinary household appliances is a treat. Instead of defying God, Victor here is simply defying grief and the true villain being not the cute dog-zombie but he hysteria of suburban America. In that, it is very much in the trend of the Eighties that the picket fence of slick Americana being sold and dominating screens across the globe was not necessarily to be trusted. But mostly it is a fun gateway horror that packs a lot of genre vibe in its short running time.

Disney judged it too scary and fired Burton. Of course, Burton had the last laugh as his sensibility proved perfect for capturing the camp and horror of Batman. Grown in reputation, ‘Frankenweenie’ hits that sweet spot as a gateway coming-of-age horror for melancholy outsiders: grim, funny, quietly subversive, sugar-coated bad taste, a little freaky and a little innocent.

 

Frankenweenie

Director ~ Tim Burton

Writers ~ Leonard Ripps, Tim Burton, John August

2012, b/w, USA

Stars ~ Winona Ryder, Catherine O'Hara, Martin Short

In adapting his renowned short, Burton’s expansion incorporates many more horror Easter Eggs and grotesqueries, including ‘The Munsters’, ‘Gremlins’, Kaiju amongst others. It embraces the freakishness far more than the original, wallowing in the otherworldliness and excess that animation allows. This isn’t grounded in the reality at all, and yet the emotional core is still relatable as coming-of-age concerns. This time, though, it is notable that Vincent (voiced by Charlie Tahan) is less an outcast – because how could he be with this menagerie of classmates? – but a wilful loner, taking solace in his genius. And this time, there’s room to give all the other misfits their own amusing subplots: highlights being the rooftop DIY rocket and the precognitive-poop cat.

The black-and-white stop motion is gorgeous, of course, sharp and clean and excellently lit, with Burton’s designs being typically pointy, rounded, ikky-cute. Even Victor simply walking home through the suburbs in the rain is impressive as a visual. How Burton balances between the wholesome and grim is quite the marvel and at the core of his talent and crossover success.

As always, there are gruesome details, like bolts inserted into gaping scars and the patchwork zombie dog wagging his tail off. The lynch mob hysteria is somewhat toned down to greatly disapproving locals and the tone less melancholic. It may all turn out okay in the end, and there’s certainly the essence of Burton being genre comfort food, but there is always a thread of real danger with the detail and fun always beguiling. ‘Frankenweenie’ is also agreeably, declaratively pro-creativity and pro-science, as proclaimed by the Vincent Price-ish teacher Mr. Rzykruski (Martin Landau). One minute you’re making a home-made space invasion movie; next, you’re reviving your dead dog with household accessories. 

The Curse of Frankenstein

 

The Curse of Frankenstein

Director ~ Terence Fisher

Writers ~ Jimmy Sangster

1957 ~ UK

Stars ~ Peter Cushing, Hazel Court, Robert Urquhart, Christopher Lee

Although Hammer had taken the success of ‘The Quatermass Experiment’ as a hint that they should move into horror as a moneymaker, ‘The Curse of Frankenstein’ set the agenda. Peter Cushing, Christopher Lee, updating Universal monsters, Terence Fisher directing and Jimmy Sangster writing, sumptuous set design by Bernard Robinson, Jack Asher’s cinematography, salaciousness and a lash of gore all went to make up Bray Studio’s Hammer Horror brand. Although it sounds like a sequel, ‘The Curse of Frankenstein’ is Hammer’s first Gothic Monster, the first British horror film in colour and Fisher makes sure you know it, whether it’s Cushing blue eyes, the multi-coloured liquids in the lab or a somewhat unnecessary close-up of a luxurious dressing gown. 

Mary Shelly’s novel is the landmark in the creation of the genres of horror and science-fiction, teen fiction and body horror, written when she was nineteen. Famously, it was the result of a writing competition between her, Lord Byron and Percy Shelley in the Summer of 1816. Its themes are of existential angst, societal rejection, ambition and responsibility, ego and empathy, running from parental obligation, victimhood and revenge, male ego, the patriarchy’s fear/disgust/misunderstanding of a woman’s ability to give birth (seeing it as a challenge to usurp), and others. All the earliest adaptations forgo the eloquence of the creature if not the suffering, and in this adaption, Jimmy Sangster takes full-blown liberties with Shelley’s seminal novel as others have. He makes it not about the whimpering, cruel rejection of your creation, but abusing it into sublimation, robbing it of agency, humiliating and tampering with it at your whim. Rather than an odyssey, this is a chamber piece about a narcissistic baron, his laboratory, his disapproving best friend and his unaware fiancé – in that order.

The first pairing of life-long friends Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee. Cushing is fantastic, able to exude charm even through his selfishness and mercenariness. Cushing’s ability to treat the fantastical and tosh with sincerity cannot be undervalued. The step into confrontational colour gore is nicely declared with Cushing smearing blood on his jacket (and a find symbol for his bloody obsessive nature). Unlike his co-star Paul Krempe, Cushing thoroughly embraced this in Hammer, seeing it as a fairy-tale world. Cinematographer Jack Asher can be greatly credited with the whole look of Hammer, and certainly the precise colour from the startling close-up bright blue of Cushing’s eyes to that jacket bloodstain turning pink over time. But this is not to forget production designer Bernard Robinson, whose laboratory set is surely as iconic as Whale’s 1931 version. 

Lee’s performance is perhaps a revelation, forgoing the charisma and elegance that would later give him such presence for the clumsy, lumbering coordination of the monster. There is a pathetic uncoordinated physicality that he was not called upon to deliver or necessary after the malevolent baritone elegance of his ‘Dracula’. To avoid being prosecuted by Universal, Le’s creature make-up designed by Phil Leakey is a world away from the iconic, brilliant and cartoonish Jack Pierce designed Karloff visage: Leakey’s make-up is true to the report of being taken from a hanged man whose been ravaged by the birds. It is a performance that dominates despite its comparatively brief screentime due to that nasty make-up and Lee’s natural commanding aura.

Otherwise, Krempe gives a solid but uninspired performance as Victor’s mentor, there is a young Melvyn Hayes, a sultry Valerie Gaunt and a charming Hazel Court, exuding warmth and turning what little she has as Victor’s cousin-fiancé into a sympathetic character. It is through her that the era’s repression of female autonomy and patriarchy’s dominance come through.

Hammer’s novelty was to highlight that, make no mistake, Victor Frankenstein is the true villain with the creature the jigsaw manifestation of his ugliness, forced into life. And despite the presumed finality of the ending, it is Cushing’s Frankenstein that made for a franchise. From a reported budget of £65,000 ‘The Curse of Frankenstein’ made a box office of $8 million, a success that led to Hammer’s Gothic Horror agenda and seven Frankenstein sequels. Jack Asher said that Fisher only did two takes due to Hammer’s demanding scheduling. When taken into consideration, this conveys just how punk, professional and talented this team was to produce such performances, elegance and influential horror.

Poor Things

Poor Things

Director ~ Yorgos Lanthimos

Writers ~ Tony McNamaram, Alasdair Gray

2023, Ireland-UK-USA-Hungary

Stars ~ Emma Stone, Mark Ruffalo, Willem Dafoe

Like ‘Barbie’ for Goths and Tim Burton fans, ‘Poor Things’ is similarly a tale of gender existentialism, of a woman finding her place in a patriarchal world. It also reminded me a little of Ransom Riggs’ appropriating old photographs to generate a narrative for ‘Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children’ and the work of Walter Potter. It has excellent Bafta award- winning set design by Shona Heath, James Price and Zsuzsa Mihalek, a brilliantly wonky score by Jerskin Fendric, and is afflicted with fish-eye lens. If at first it seems dangerously close to a male fantasy of creating and maltreating a child-woman, it soon becomes apparent that this is not a ‘Weird Science’ fantasy but more musing on nature and nurture.

 

Dr Godwin Baxter (yeh yeh: God.) makes Bella Baxter, Frankenstein style, utilising a suicide victim, but it is evidently more interested in the creation of a daughter-figure rather than the impulses of a dirty old man. In fact, the film walks this fine line deftly until Bella’s curiosity is insatiable and she is able to assert herself. And these are not men to hold her back. As an examination of Bella’s self-discovery, it never allows her to be a victim even when she chooses prostitution as an option to maintain freedom. Her tale is just blithely stomping through patriarchy and class and blithely not acknowledging their attacks on her curiosity, whether carnal or intellectual (although we get more of the former demonstrated rather than the latter). Her tale is not one of overcoming suffering and abuse; we have that in Godwin’s hints of his childhood.

I am aware of critical heralding of Emma Stone’s Bafta Award-winning performance and have heard anecdotally how it annoyed others. She certainly gives it her all as she stomps and furious jumps her way through experience and naïveté in a manner more defiant than innocent. But it is Mark Ruffalo’s turn as a conceited lothario that surely steals the show as he goes from cocksure seducer to broken man in Bella’s wake. Their dance scene is a highlight.

There is of course a lot absent from the novel – Scottish politics for one; faux-Victorian London in place of Glasgow* – and the longer the film goes on it surely loses its argument for its length. It feels an act too long and Bella’s conclusions get increasingly muddled. The most glaring moral failing is that Bella discovered and melted down over class guilt of recognising poverty and yet the film achieves her happy ending by sidestepping any awareness she has developed and leaves her lounging wealthily in an English garden, blissfully privileged and ignoring the truths that made her so outraged. (This is not the same as the book.)

There is black humour, of course, but the tone here is more in the amusing absurdity of Godwin burping gigantic bubbles at dinner. It is not nearly as acerbic and finely tuned as ‘The Favourite’ ~ another Tony McNamara script ~ but perhaps Lanthimos has never worn comedy so clearly on his sleeve. Or rejected the dark comedic potential of cruelty so readily, for that is not Bella’s way. Danny Leigh writes, “Like The Favourite, his new film comes to feel like a costume drama for an age that thinks itself above costume dramas.” Yes, but this is a fantasia and just falls short of steampunk; it is not so much a metafiction commenting upon itself rather than a series of amusements full of fantastical and/or incongruous detail.

It’s a heady confection whose oddness is always engaging, and yet there is the sense that this is less than the sum of its considerable parts. Or that its goofiness falls just short of greatness. Perhaps the gleeful chaos of this picaresque bildungsroman achieves more diversion than conclusion. Perhaps a near miss, then, but the aesthetic and the picaresque chaos of Bella’s self-discovery offers many treats, not to mention a widening of Lanthimos’ range.

 

·         * In his ‘Little White Lies’ interview (No. 101 Dec ‘23/Jan’24), Lanthimos talks of how the Scottish element of the novel felt like another book, and so they focused on Bella. This also led to the change of ending. Regarding the change to London, Lanthimos says that, “Well, I think Alasdair probably wouldn’t be very happy about that, because he was a very proud Scotsman.”