Hokum (2026)

 ☆ ☆ ☆

Hokum (2026) – D. McCarthy

Irish director Damian McCarthy’s third film – and the first after his breakthrough success with Oddity (2024; streaming everywhere near you) – stars Adam Scott, who I guess is an American TV star, but I’d never heard of him (although his latest Netflix film does seem to star Robert De Niro, so “my bad”).  Scott plays a decidedly unlikeable character, Ohm Bauman, a successful writer but rude and willing to punch down on those less fortunate. He’s come to this remote Irish hotel to bury his parents’ ashes, since this was where they had honeymooned decades earlier. However, the honeymoon suite is locked up and no one is allowed to enter, given that there is supposed to be a witch trapped inside.  Bauman isn’t against breaking in but he’s pretty ambivalent about everything (and haunted, perhaps literally, by events earlier in his life). McCarthy creates a lot of atmosphere in this old hotel, especially once we are actually in the honeymoon suite and its environs, but the characters remain rather thin. Throw in a few jump scares and some folk horror references and you’ve got a solid horror outing – full of dread and spooky without requiring gore -- but not something I need to watch again.   

 

Village of the Damned (1960)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Village of the Damned (1960) – W. Rilla

The film starts mysteriously with all of the residents of the tiny British town of Midwich falling asleep, instantly, mid-sentence as it were.  The British military investigates and finds an invisible line encircling the village where to cross it means falling unconscious (even in a low-flying plane).  Months later, all of the women of child-bearing age fall pregnant, eventually giving birth to platinum blond children with piercing eyes. As they grow up, these children prove exceptionally intelligent and, as a group, possessed of a “hive mind”. The “son” of Professor Zellaby (George Sanders) and his wife Anthea (Barbara Shelley) is played by Martin Stephens, who subsequently used a similarly evil tone to play Miles in The Innocents (1961), an adaptation of The Turn of the Screw by Henry James. (I knew I recognised him, even with the blond wig).  This film is an adaptation of the John Wyndham novel, "The Midwich Cuckoos", drawing from the bird’s strategy of laying its eggs in the nests of other species who then raise the offspring as their own. Prof. Zellaby hopes to harness the children’s intelligence for the betterment of the world -- but alas, they are just too evil (with supernatural powers, of course). The bizarre plot is held in place by a script which has characters act realistically, responding logically and sometimes emotionally, in reaction to the strange presence in their lives and village. Suitably creepy.

 

Private Hell 36 (1954)

 ☆ ☆ ☆

Private Hell 36 (1954) – D. Siegel

Despite starting his career as a “montage” specialist in the editorial department (and notwithstanding his long association with Clint Eastwood in the ‘60s and ‘70s), I find Don Siegel to be among the least flashy of directors (Eastwood himself follows in his mentor’s footsteps).  Private Hell 36 could just as easily be a TV production with its plain sets and matter-of-fact staging, camerawork, and direction. The editing serves the function of telling the story straightforwardly, without distraction, because I didn’t notice it. Perhaps this basic invisible approach to craft by Siegel allows the story to take centre stage: substance over style.  Here, L. A. cops Steve Cochran and Howard Duff stumble onto $50 bills from a NYC robbery now being circulated in the West.  They trace one to Ida Lupino, a bar singer, who eventually agrees to work with them to collar the fellow who passed it to her, a man who spends time at the races.  There’s a fair bit of legwork and staking out. Eventually, though, Duff and Cochran reach a moral crossroads and a choice which places stress on their relationship, with added pressure for Duff (a family man under financial strain at home) and Cochran (who falls for Lupino and her expensive tastes).  The title references the number of a trailer home, perhaps the most clever thing about the film, which nevertheless does build up a fair amount of tension, as the screws tighten on the characters.

 

Backrooms (2026)

 ☆ ☆ ☆

Backrooms (2026) – K. Parsons

Underwhelmed, I guess, but it isn’t that clear why.  High expectations? As longtime readers know, I’m certainly open to surrealism and weirdness generally.  Backrooms set up its premise well and I was intrigued – when sad/frustrated Clark (Chiwetel Ejiofor) pushes through the wall of his discount furniture store’s basement into the yellowy maze of hidden fluorescent-lit rooms, I wanted to explore with him.  The shadowy figures in the distance, the possible danger – it was alive with possibilities.  But somehow those possibilities turned from intrigue to tedium and then to incomprehensibility.  Is there a metaphor here about memories (never accurately recalled, only reconstructed via the present), about past traumas (and how they might gather strength and defeat us), about frustrated dead ends? It seems either too glib or too hard to fathom.  The film felt somehow incomplete, less encouraging me to fill in the gaps with my own interpretations and more missing essential information. Perhaps though it is just my awareness that there’s lore galore lurking somewhere on youtube, available to some but not all viewers (certainly not this one), ahead of time.  A connected story featuring Clark’s therapist, Mary (Renate Reinsve), holds promise for revealing needed detail but ends abruptly (as does the film). A briefly involved scientist remains unexplained (in the film proper).  Of course, I’ve tried to reflect whether my reaction to the film is unfair – after all, I’ve eventually come round to David Lynch appreciation, even if my initial reaction to Lost Highway was similarly uncomprehending.  (Mulholland Drive, in contrast, was immediately recognisable as a masterpiece).  These Lynch films, while bizarre and without clear explanations, provide more details to let the dream logic kick in. Backrooms seems to require a third act, just to provide more fodder for our imaginations (and not necessarily to provide some sort of explicit explanation).  Otherwise, am I supposed to go to youtube to flesh this out?  Some commentary suggests that this is a Gen Z movie -- possibly because director Kane Parsons is so young, but maybe because this generation faces the kind of disrupted trajectories (career and life) that the characters in Backrooms also face (even if the film might be set in 1990 when my own generation was trying to find their footing in what may have been a more predictable world). Speaking of unpredictability, as the film ended, I couldn’t help thinking that most of the replicas of things in the Backrooms felt like artificial intelligence versions of our reality – not quite right and possibly not really serviceable, if they start to stand in for what used to be there.   

A Samurai in Time (2023)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

A Samurai in Time (2023) – J. Yasuda

Good-natured family fare (although probably too introspective for actual kids) with a high concept: samurai hit by lightning ends up 140 years in the future – around 2007 for some reason (those flip phones tipped me off). Despite the not-so-original (fish out of water) premise, there were a few real laughs in the first half, as Kosaka-san (Makiya Yamaguchi) experiences the shock of the future.  The only job he is suited for is as an extra in TV jidaigeki productions, so it is lucky he’s landed right on a set in Kyoto. Ayako kept remarking that everyone was using different dialects in Japanese, so there are bound to be other aspects to the film (funny or otherwise) that natives will take away that foreigners will not. And just when you think the film has no place to turn, its gentle comedy dissipating, there’s a surprising twist that takes us through the second half of the film (which is more drama than comedy).  This does require a bit of Japanese historical knowledge, about the end of the Shogunate and the move toward the modern era, but not much more than to sympathise with Kosaka-san, whose clan ended up defeated. The screenplay builds to one final twist and ends in a relatively satisfying place. Nothing too threatening or challenging here but enjoyable nevertheless.  And it is fun to say the original title:  Samurai Taimusurippa (“timeslipper!”).

Fracture (2007)

 ☆ ☆ ☆

Fracture (2007) – G. Hoblit

Anthony Hopkins works a lot but his projects seem to be all over the place.  In this one, he’s back to evil-genius mode, not quite Hannibal Lecter but smart enough to outwit the legal system after killing his wife and clearly enjoying tormenting public prosecutor Ryan Gosling with taunts and head games. The internet recommended this as a twisty legal thriller (one that I had somehow missed) but as directed by Gregory Hoblit (who got his start with Hill Street Blues), it feels rather passé or cliché.  This might be due to the music (too familiar) or cinematography (too slick) or sets (too boring, despite what is supposed to be amazing architecture or engineering delights).  There might actually be a clever script under there but that too feels very pat by the end. Critic Jonathan Rosenbaum (of the Chicago Reader, back in the day) saw this as an interesting duel between Hopkins’ classical acting style and Gosling’s method approach. Perhaps.  Gosling is supposed to be cocky then contrite but I’m not sure he pulls it off.  Hopkins is a little more subdued than I would have expected for this part.  So there – average at best.

 

Thirst (1949)

 ☆ ☆ ☆

Thirst (1949) – I. Bergman

Returning to Criterion’s massive Ingmar Bergman boxset after a bit of a hiatus, this is the 34^th (out of 41 or so) film in the boxset but only the 7^th in Bergman’s career. Critics suggest that this is the first film where Bergman’s longstanding themes and directorial style start to emerge and, yes, it is a film about people experiencing relationship problems. Although not scripted by Bergman (instead it was written by Herbert Grevenius, adapting short stories by Birgit Tengroth who herself plays a supporting role in the film), it feels like it could have been, as it charts the relationship dissatisfaction felt by a young woman played by Eva Henning, both in a past affair with a married military officer (Bengt Eklund) and in her marriage to Bertil (Birger Malmsten).  After these two episodes, the film diverts to the experiences of Bertil’s former girlfriend (played by Tengroth) who is pursued by both her doctor and by a lesbian former ballet school classmate.  Add an unfortunate abortion to the plot and this must have been quite controversial for 1949 -- but Bergman was just getting started. Overall, not without interest, but you’d be silly to start here if you want to explore the great Swedish master’s works.