BA_Harrison

Zach Cregger's Barbarian was a promising horror debut, but didn't quite do it for me as a whole, never quite reaching the levels of lunacy I was hoping for. Cregger's follow up, Weapons, is far more satisfying, with an impressive Magnolia-style narrative structure that tells its story from several different points of view, before going totally bonkers for the final act. Cregger masterfully blends intrigue, suspense, dark comedy and horror to tell the story of a small town where seventeen school children, all from the same class, mysteriously disappear into the night leaving their distraught parents to suspect the kids' teacher, Justine Gandy (Julia Garner), of foul play.

The trailer for Weapons was very careful not to give too much away, which I really appreciated, so I won't delve into the plot any further, suffice to say that the film delivers plenty of surprises and becomes more and more crazy as it goes along, until finally revealing who or what is responsible for the disappearances. The first hour and a half is very slow burn, with little in the way of genuine horror, and more humour than I was expecting, but the way Cregger tells his story from the perspectives of very different characters keep things fresh until he finally lets loose with the craziness. Although not an out and out bloodbath, there are a handful of scenes that definitely deliver the nastiness, so fans of the gory stuff won't feel cheated, especially by the film's extremely grisly conclusion. Garner, who was in the dreadful The Wolfman and the disappointing The Fantastic Four, is great on this occasion, and she is given solid support from the likes of Josh Brolin and Benedict Wong, although it is Amy Madigan, as bizarre aunt Gladys Lilly, who steals the show - she's hilarious!

8.5/10, rounded up to 9 for the Justin Long cameo.

If you're a fan of exploitative grindhouse' cinema of the seventies, then The Headless Eyes will be a real treat: it's far from the best movie you'll ever see, but it has all of the traits that a classic grindhouse flick should have... a lurid plot with a manic, sweaty lead performance from Bo Brundin as crazed killer Arthur Malcom, who scoops out his victims' eyeballs with a spoon to use in his artwork; a sleazy New York setting; poor picture quality, complete with scratches, light leaks, and hairs in the gate; a weird experimental soundtrack; and some rudimentary gore, mostly Malcolm fondling the bloody orbs that he has just plucked from their sockets.

The acting is dreadful (most notably during a scene where a TV reporter interviews bystanders at a murder scene), the direction and editing are slapdash, and, like Abel Ferrara's The Driller Killer, the film occasionally wanders into pretentious arthouse territory, which makes it all the more oddball. There's also a totally redundant subplot involving a young female art student, who attempts to strike up a friendship with Malcom. Perhaps the original intention was to have this character return for the finalé, but it looks as though writer/director Kent Bateman might have run out of time and money, which would explain the girl's failure to reappear and the film's very abrupt ending.