Delirio de sangre

I took it for a nice evening from the B-film layer in the video store, so I was ready to be disappointed - which I never was. Already the start sequence kept me glued to the screen guessing what was behind the sinister words and to find out it was worse than expected. Truly most characters failed to be sympathetic but then they appealed rather "real" to me. Plus the great cinematography with moving cam and false colors - great! And topping this was the extent of violence *not* shown (I saw a German R18 version so most probably it was not cut). In some scene we see just the gun being fired and then a glimpse from inside a car through broken windows to the shooter - that's it.

By the way I did find some strong resemblance in picturing the Hillbills going mad with the Dead trilogy. They were something like the walking dead with a cause - drugs.

And then, don't miss the ending credits. One of the protagonists gives a Lars von Trier cameo and makes sure we all understand this is a true Anti-Dogma film.

Standing out on its own - 7 out of 10 from me.

Dust is a 'tour de force' of independent film making. Shot on a low budget (although you'd never guess that in a million years), you get the impression that every single frame has been a labour of love.

The acting is riveting and compelling with great performances from Nadja Brand and Gerard Rudolf as well as Eric Colvin. The performances are magnetic and highly entertaining and makes you realise how important highly trained actors are.

The homage to Straw Dogs is done masterfully and in a fresh up to date manner. The title sequence has elements of Fincher and puts this film up there with the majors.

There is a genuine craft on display here. Adam Mason is certainly a name to look out for in the future. As is his talented crew who will undoubtedly be filling our screens for the foreseeable future.

Can't wait to see Mason's next project!

One thing I've learnt from watching low-budget movies is that when they open with a blatant ripoff of the titles from 'Seven' they're either a masterpiece which will make David Fincher look like Ed Wood, or pretentious, self-indulgent bilge... and David Fincher has nothing to fear from this one.

Technically, sure, it's obviously had a reasonable amount of money spent on it, the cinematography is quite good, much of the acting is OK, and I liked some of the editing tricks. But after ripping off 'Seven' it introduced a cast of utterly unsympathetic characters who I only cared about because I wanted to see them dead, and then proceeded to rip off 'Straw Dogs'... but without Peckinpah's talent.

The only reasons I didn't walk out early on, as so many in the audience did, were because I really, really wanted to see almost every character in the movie die and also I couldn't believe that it could continue to get worse the longer it ran. Truly, this is one of the worst movies I've ever seen, and, trust me, I've seen a lot of really bad ones.

Tarantino managed to make a living ripping off other movies, but he at least had the foresight to rip off obscure movies that most people hadn't seen... Tarantino wannabees should learn from that, rather than try to rip off well-known masterpieces by directors far more creative than they are.

Yeah, I saw Dust at the FrightFest, too. I left with a headache tortuously far into the trippy bits. I know you get square-eyed at that Festival anyway - but this one went a long way to knocking me sideways good and early in the afternoon.

It was hard to follow - partly because of the fuzzy, Betamax projection and a somewhat loud, overly pumping soundtrack, which obscured key dialog. It didn't help that it screened in tandem with an empty, slick, self-consciously "Hey, kids, we're hip, too" C4 telly production about sleep deprivation that was, mercifully, as brief as it was irritating. Half an hour of that started the Exodus. I was ready to follow. But I guess something in the opening of Dust kept me in my seat.

From early on, there were bits that made me laugh out loud despite - or, as has been said, perhaps because of - a cast of unlikeable characters you thoroughly wanted to die. I was pleased to get away from it, but: something about the framing, the use of colour, the wacky jump-cuts and flash-frames; the sheer unpleasantness of the protagonists - perhaps sympathy for the half-wit, Pigsy, and his lovelorn, oafish brother - nagged me long after the rest of the film had faded in the back of my mind like one of those nine-hour, nightmare coach-rides from Newcastle.

Mason – and Jonty Acton (co-director of ‘13th Sign', that had screened fuzzily at the previous FrightFest) – seem to have a way of doing that. On the surface, you've just watched a half-finished, cliché-ridden, un-thought-through movie. Underneath, though, someone has tweaked your psyche in a nasty way – the sadist learing back at you behind soft, rosy, middle-class assurance – like Ronald Searle cartoons in the Sunday Times; or a Cohen Brothers movie set in Rickmansworth.

So when a friend insisted on showing me his pre-release DVD copy last week I was not totally out to resist. Viewed on telly - letterbox format – chillin out with a can or two of Stella, it suddenly came into its own. The picture quality was sharp, the sound quality clear - bassy, rather than booming - with a catchy soundtrack. And suddenly I got the point: I was watching TV. Despite the credits, this film wasn't designed to compete with cinematic masterpieces like Blood Simple, for example; or 'Henry, Portrait of a Serial Killer' (the latter was unfaultable but, let's face it, who actually rushed to see it again? Please don't give them my phone number).

It starts in the style of a kitsch TV movie already veering wildly off-course – as though the casting department and crew of Ballykissangel had just been introduced to PCPs. Set alongside your average peak-audience telly specials with the neurotic housewives, the balding detectives, the period-costumed soft-porn that fashionably debases our greatest literature, it would stand out a mile. Even compare it to those formulaic Lock-Stock spin-offs. Something DIFFERENT happens. And it's funny. And it is, in fact, very well shot. Yeah, there's still too much mayhem in the middle for my taste, and the hillbilly music gets a bit trying in places – but then the noise stops, and Mason leaves you with an almost wistful pastiche of some sixties European Film-Noir. And you get that creeping sense (probably false), that perhaps there was something more to it after all - and maybe you should watch it again, someday, just in case.

It's definitely not Paranoid Celluloid's masterpiece, which – yes - I believe is yet to come (rumours are of a Director's Cut and Sequel to 13th Sign next under commission from transatlantic distributors). But independent film-making it is. And - for any telly movie - that's a singular achievement. I guess people around the world will be tuning into this one on cable at four o'clock in the morning after Inspectors Morse and Frost, Monarch of the Glen, and the conceivers, producers and performers of BBC2's Crime and Punishment or ITV's lugubrious Forsyte Saga, are long-buried.

Saw this film at the frightfest 2001, have not seen such an exodus since it was announced that Margaret Thatcher was going to do a striptease. I could see what Adam Mason tried to achieve by letting the cinema goer see what it was like to be on an angeldust trip. Unfortunately the cast could not carry it off and the editing and direction left a lot to be desired, to be honest this is possibly the worst movie I have ever seen.