Tag Archives: disappointing

Film review: The Devil’s Rock


On paper The Devil’s Rock has a refreshing and promising setting. I had high hopes of a different and thrilling horror. It is set in the Channel Islands, which is unusual in itself. Its story plays out on the eve of the D-Day landings, giving the film a period background and all the possibilities of Nazis, gloomy bunkers and heroic Commandos. Throw in generous portions of gore and the temptations of mysterious occult witchcraft, and there are enough ingredients in this film to satisfy your average viewer as well as fans of fright fests.

Unfortunately having the beginnings of a good beginning is not enough. The opening twenty minutes of this film are dull and frankly boring. Two Commandos land on a mined beach aiming to carry out a sabotage mission to distract the Germans from the Allied invasion of Normandy the following morning. One almost blows them both to smithereens by stepping on a mine and this moment could have been far more dramatic.

There are also plenty of attempts to establish characters the audience can care about through the dialogue; the lead figure is missing the love of his life and the reluctant/bumbling one just wants to hurry home for medals and the inevitable hordes of adoring women. He’s got a date with a nurse the next day. Yup that’s right, on D-Day. The characterisation is clumsy and tries too hard, feeling far too out of place to be believable. Yes soldiers like anything feminine with a pulse, no elite Commandos probably didn’t discuss tits when negotiating a beach stuffed with explosives.

I’m still not quite finished with the weaknesses of the beginning. It all gets very predictable very quickly. The pair hear noises and they split up, as is the tendency of daft victims in horror films. They stalk around the echoing corridors of a defensive bunker, presumably while the tension builds to gripping levels for the audience. Well what should be an incredibly suspenseful sequence in an atmospheric environment is actually plodding and uninteresting. Essentially you are watching two men with guns walk very slowly down identical, bare hallways, waving their weapons about needlessly. The score doesn’t affect your mood because the ominous music started ages ago, when they had just landed and there was no immediate supernatural danger.

Eventually, after what feels like an age but what was actually only about half an hour, The Devil’s Rock gets to the meat of its story, which turns out to be some disappointing and mass produced packet ham available from any cut price supermarket. There is nothing fresh or creative about the taste of this film once it shows its hand.

Captain Ben Grogan (Craig Hall) has to deal with a Nazi Colonel who claims to need help to contain a dangerous creature he has summoned on Hitler’s orders. The Devil’s Rock is a production from New Zealand, so one of the key limits on your immersion in the story is Matthew Sunderland’s terrible German accent. Blood, intestines and guts are splattered around the walls. The fate of the world and the war is at stake, etc, etc. When the monster is shown in full view it looks ridiculous and laughable and any final hopes for the film fade away.

Having said all that The Devil’s Rock is still a film capable of satisfying some horror fans with some distinctive features. Its finale is intense and reasonably well executed, even if I was no longer invested in the story and everything seemed a bit silly by then. If the words “sexy devil with an appetite for human flesh” appeal to you, then this might be worth a watch.

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Roman’s next move could topple his Chelsea Empire


It surely can’t be the same season and yet it is. Chelsea began this campaign steamrolling the opposition and notching up impossible scores. Drogba and Anelka and co were unstoppable. But this weekend Chelsea crashed out of the FA Cup, the one trophy their fans must have been counting on their team to comfortably retain. The coming week is make or break for the blues as they take on Copenhagen in the Champions League. After letting slip the Premiership to a way below par Manchester United side and an Arsenal team still in development, Chelsea’s only hope for silverware this term is in Europe. Carlo Ancelotti started this season as if he could do no wrong after reclaiming the title for the London side after a 3 year stay in Manchester, but it would seem he has to win the trophy Chelsea owner Roman Abramovich has always coveted and never won to keep his job.

Indeed it feels as if Abramovich’s tenure as Chelsea owner has reached a sort of tipping point. The unspoken fear around Stamford Bridge has always been what if the big Russian tires of his English plaything and leaves the club. It was the one consoling thought for many football fans as they watched Chelsea steadily ascend to the heights of world football; that the situation was unstable and one day Chelsea would crash and burn. It’s been said again since unfathomable amounts of oil money were ploughed into Manchester City. But so far Roman’s defied the expectations and hopes of the doubters, and continually funded his club. He’s proved the role model and catalyst for countless other investors to take the leap into English football. And thanks to Roman’s success and commitment, fans have even started welcoming benefactors in lots of cases.

Since the departure of the Special One however, Abramovich’s record with managers has been poor, with Ancelotti the only real success, besides Hiddink who was a temporary measure. And the chopping and changing of managers has disguised the relentless decline of the club’s squad. Once unbeatable and prized assets like Drogba, Lampard and Terry are ageing and no longer capable of consistent greatness. Once again Roman dipped into his vast wealth to try and resurrect his empire during the transfer window. Fans might have been reassured by this continued investment and the arrival of Torres and Luiz. But the Spaniard from Liverpool is yet to ignite and is not a long term solution. David Luiz displayed commanding defensive ability and sublime passing on his full debut against Fulham, alongside experienced Terry at centre back. It will take a whole clutch of young signings like Luiz to rejuvenate a Chelsea squad that has been neglected and has become predictable.

Ancelotti is coming under considerable fire of late for his tactical decisions. There’s no doubting that he is playing far too narrow through the midfield and into the hands of opponents that no longer see Chelsea’s defence as invincible. He’s certainly trying too hard to accommodate Torres without thinking first of the need for results and team chemistry. But in many ways Ancelotti is limited by his squad, a group of players he had little hand in selecting. There are an abundance of central midfield players in the Chelsea team, all of them quality players, and Ancelotti is trying to play to his strengths.

The danger is that Abramovich will simply sack another top class coach and there will once again be a period of upheaval. There’s an unquestionable need for change and fresh legs at Chelsea, but this will be best managed through continuity as well. It’s a real shame that the pressures of modern football and the heavy egos of club owner’s mean that managers no longer get time to shape a side to their vision. If Roman Abramovich is truly serious about winning the Champions League, and establishing Chelsea as a long term force at the top of football, he’ll keep faith in a manager who’s already proven himself and back him with the resources he needs. Top coaches deliver with time as Alex Ferguson proves. Take a reactionary axe to his management team as well as his squad and Roman might see his football empire crumble into mediocrity.

Outcast


When you’re an established director in British television it must be important to time your leap into films. It could be a matter of waiting for the right opportunity to come along. You might have a brainchild of your own to nurture into life. However you go about it, mistakes could be fatal for your aspirations. Do you stick to what you know or strike out boldly to get yourself noticed?

Colm McCarthy adopted the practical approach of a bit of both. Born in Edinburgh, his debut feature is set in the city and packed full of bleak, grey vistas. They’re similar to the gritty tone of one of McCarthy’s previous credits, Murphy’s Law. And McCarthy relies on the star of that show, James Nesbitt, to head up a strong line-up of British acting talent in Outcast. The director also co-wrote the film, which is a shocking and dramatic departure from glossy programmes like Hustle, The Tudors and Spooks which also adorn his CV.

Outcast is the tale of Mary (Kate Dickie) and Fergal (Niall Bruton), a mother and son pair that find themselves settling into a dingy, dirty flat on a rough estate on Edinburgh’s outskirts. As the film progresses it’s clear that Mary is fiercely protective of her son and that she and him are running and hiding from something dark in their past. Connections which link them to Cathal (Nesbitt) gradually surface, who arrives in the city on a primal hunt to kill. It doesn’t take long before members of the recognisable British cast start dropping like flies, but the culprit remains ambiguous right up until the climax of the story.

From the start Outcast tries too hard to establish its weird, horrific credentials. Rather than subtly revealing the occult aspects to the story, the clunky script hammers them home. We watch as Nesbitt’s character endures the application of painful ritualistic carvings to his back and immediately afterwards, Dickie’s mysterious mother drawing blood from her own naked chest and daubing ancient symbols over the walls. Later when Fergal’s teen love interest Petronella (Hanna Stanbridge) barges into the flat and discovers these odd images, Fergal simply explains his mother has different beliefs, rather than panicking or struggling more realistically (and interestingly) to keep the secret burden from his friends. Equally bizarrely Petronella isn’t fazed.

With so much blood and gore on show, Outcast needs strong, engaging and believable characters to be watchable. Unfortunately a weak script again lets down the cast. Most of the characters are nothing more than stereotyped caricatures. The highly sexed yobs on the estate are entirely predictable, as is Doctor Who’s Karen Gillan’s small role as an estate slut. Petronella’s simple brother is also a cardboard cut-out of a character. Her relationship and eventual love for Fergal, a key pillar of the plot, is not at all convincing. Another faulty key ingredient is Nesbitt’s miscasting as the menacing pursuer. Most of the time he appears baffled and far from frightening. Christine Tremarco gives a good performance as a rather pointless housing inspector and Dickie’s genuinely mysterious mother is just about the only character with the capacity to deliver proper scares. She does so a number of times, springing out from nowhere on her wandering son, issuing warnings and cursing Tremarco’s character so that she loses her mind.

For a horror film Outcast is far too predictable and its execution is heavy handed. All the pieces of a really gripping, frightening story are there but they simply don’t fit together in the right order. The crucially important occult influences are both overused and not ever satisfactorily explained. Grand themes like repressed sexual desire, forbidden fruit and ancestor’s sins returning to haunt the next generation, never quite come off. Brutal sacrifices and attacks, potentially original elements of the story, are uncomfortable to watch but never truly shocking. When more traditional scares arrive in monster form, the special effects look amateurish and almost laughably like a parody of a classic.

Most of the praise heaped upon McCarthy’s debut feature seems severely misguided in my view, although one review is right to hail the project an “ambitious” one. Sadly for the British film industry, Outcast lacked both the polished script and the resources to pull off what it was attempting. Throughout the whole thing you’re never quite sure what’s going on, but you’re never shocked or scared either. Outcast’s two dimensional plotting and characterisation means that a handful of sexy scenes, the charms of rising star Hanna Stanbridge and continuous gore are all that’s left to endear it to the (I suspect male) teenagers keen to get hold of it on its release, despite the 18 certificate.

Doctor Who Series 5: The Verdict


I feel guilty that after airing my views on that early teaser trailer on this blog, warning that this series may fall short, it is only now that I have found the time to correct myself. However that is largely due to the fact that I have enjoyed this series so much that to sit down and analyse both its successes and failings after each individual episode would have spoilt the experience. In truth though the vast majority of my doubts for the future of the nation’s beloved Timelord had been dispelled following Moffat’s first episode, The Eleventh Hour. This extended adventure abandoned the repetitive London setting of the Russell T. Davies era and brilliantly ushered in a whole new set of characters and relationships, along with a regenerated Doctor. My greatest concern, the ability of Matt Smith to replace Tennant in the role, was also mostly alleviated by his first performance alone.

That is not to say this series has not had its disappointments. When Moffat has personally penned an episode there have been no problems with quality or balance, but other writers struggled to successfully tick all the Whovian boxes. The first episode to disappoint was The Victory of the Daleks, although to be fair this may have been because expectations were disproportionately raised by the sight of Churchill and the pepper pot villains in the trailer and were impossible to live up to in a single episode. Perhaps the worst episodes of the series were the Silurian double bill set somewhat unbelievably in a Welsh mining town undergoing a globally ambitious drilling project, staffed by the odd local. I think it was a mistake to follow the rurally set Amy’s Choice, one of those brilliant low budget, idea heavy episodes stuffed with terrific acting performances, humour and insight into the Doctor’s character, with another village location and casually brush aside the glaring lack of funds by having the Doctor insist he had been aiming for Rio. This two part story also felt thin and unable to properly engage for two whole weeks. A promising start, of Amy being sucked into the earth, gave way to a predictable storyline of culture clash and negotiation, with crudely drawn Silurian and human characters.

Following this Richard Curtis’ Van Gogh episode was also weak, despite some nice flourishes. The gaping hole in the strength of Curtis’ tale was the fact that the monster of “pure evil” only Van Gogh could see turned out to be an irrelevance, easily dealt with and disconnected from the heart of the story. In many ways it may have been better to dispense with the monster completely and simply have the Doctor indulge in a spot of emotional time travel, as this is clearly all Curtis wanted to do and in the final scene he did it wonderfully movingly. I was also not enthused by The Lodger despite generally positive reviews of it elsewhere. For me the basic premise of the plot could have been much more satisfactorily explored (I mean something was building a TARDIS??? What?) and the sight of James Corden on television is beginning to verge on repulsive.

Having said this that episode did offer an unblemished close up of the eleventh Doctor’s character, charisma and performance. For me the most pleasantly surprising thing about this series has been the ease with which Matt Smith has become a Timelord and banished nostalgic longing for Tennant. His interpretation of the character has seen a refreshing return to a more detached, alien figure, as by the end of RTD’s tenure Tennant’s Timelord was still lamenting the loss of Rose and envying his duplicate’s mortal existence with her. It’s clear that each actor playing the Doctor draws heavily on his predecessor however, and Smith clearly embraces much of Tennant’s lunacy, whilst also reviving the arrogance embodied in Eccleston’s leather swagger. For me it seems only fitting that the last of the Timelord’s should have such a high minded view of himself and Smith plays the Doctor brimming with a quirky, bumbling confidence of his own. Karen Gillan also brings assurance and feisty fire to the role of redhead Amy Pond. The actress has been at her best when not trundling out generic whiny phrases in a thickening Scottish accent, but in rare glimpses of emotion such as during the scene when she could not open her eyes, surrounded by Weeping Angels. The return of these stealthy statues from critically acclaimed Blink was a gamble for Moffat but one he pulled off spectacularly. He must also gain much credit for Smith’s fresh take on the Doctor, as his writing emphasises both the marvellous methodical detective and mad professor in him.

Indeed there seems to be no doubt that most of what is good about this new look Doctor Who is down to new head writer Steven Moffat. Previous contributions to the RTD series made his talent for exploiting childhood fears evident, but given creative control over the show he has shown an aptitude for the perfect two part episode and a gripping narrative arc. I have already praised the opening episode but the second, The Beast Below, thrilled me. It had a chilling cocktail of scares, “smilers”, floors sliding away in lifts, a shadowy government (led by the demon headmaster!), and also established Amy’s competence as a companion in a unique, imaginative way (Britain floating on a space whale!) that said something about the Doctor. The return of the Weeping Angels managed to capture the brilliance of the original by acknowledging the need for a different type of story, with Moffat himself comparing it to the greater scale of Aliens 2 following Aliens. And after all the teasing about cracks in time, what a finale last weekend!

Episode 12, The Pandorica Opens, was fantastically bold in scale and again the setting of Roman Britain was a refreshing departure from the RTD trend of grand finales unravelling in present day London. After several twists and turns the Doctor was imprisoned within the Pandorica by an alliance of his foes, as the TARDIS began to explode and destroy the universe itself. It was difficult to predict the direction of episode 13, but one would have guessed some sort of reckoning for the Doctor with his formidable coalition of villains and an explanation as to who, or what, was manipulating the TARDIS and causing it to explode. Certainly what sounded like the voice of Davros could be heard in episode 12, cackling that “silence will fall”.

However much to my relief Moffat continued to surprise, as Davros would have been a tired end to such a fresh new series. Moffat seems to recognise the key to successful double episodes is contrast, and so the Doctor went from facing a horde of enemies to a solitary, ailing Dalek and the little problem of a “total event collapse”. Cue some gloriously fun time hopping involving a fez and a mop and a performance ranging from daft brilliance to retrained pain from Smith that confirms his evolution into the last Timelord. The significance of the wedding was at last explained and Rory and Amy restored to the TARDIS, all set for new adventures, with the huge questions of River Song and who caused that explosion still to be answered.

All in all Moffat has rebooted the show, just as the Doctor hit refresh on the universe  with the “Big Bang 2”, and restored a sense of the magical and fairytale by always surprising and sometimes replacing the blockbuster scale of RTD’s tenure with classic, intimate scares (e.g. the headless Cyberman in episode 12 vs. the hordes of them in RTD stories). Best of all as this fairytale series comes to an end it feels as if it is only the set up for something greater to come.

Too late for tactics: Decisions on Personnel not formations will make or break Capello’s World Cup from here


Hope remains, the dream lives. Tomorrow’s papers will be bursting with optimistic rallying cries rather than gloomy obituaries and angry rants. The headlines will be oozing with the juices of glory and we, the long starved masses, will enter a phase of frenzied belief, salivating as we devour every cautiously hopeful word that makes us think “maybe this year…” The doubters and pessimists will remain a constant presence, this is England after all, but they will be shunned and ostracised. Against Slovenia the patient was revived and for a while buzzed with a brightness we all insisted was there all along. No matter that he only just staggered to the next ward for further treatment, elbowed to the side by a forceful American on the way. For the time being we’ll laugh and say it wouldn’t be England without the tension and the worry.

There are genuine reasons for enthusiastic optimism. This was the best England performance in a long while. It was a match played at a Premier League tempo often called for by commentators and fans, who rightly question why it is their heroes perform so much better each week for their clubs. Capello also appeared to resolve some selection dilemmas once and for all. James was a solid presence in goal under considerably more pressure than he was against Algeria and Upson passed a tough test to emerge as the sensible partner for Terry in defence. Milner proved himself a performer in midfield and particularly as a winger with some beautiful crossing and much needed running at the full-back. Defoe showed he could score when it counted and that the team played better having to think about their service to him, as opposed to mindlessly lumping it up field to Heskey. Capello shall also no doubt win plaudits for his passionate touchline display of emotional gesticulations that would have been unthinkable from a certain ice cold Swede.

Capello was also right to decide against the diamond midfield formation that Eriksson toyed with unsuccessfully as England coach. The BBC commentary debated whether this was due to the Slovenian full-backs attacking tendencies and represented it as a last-minute tactical change of heart by Capello that was proven a masterstroke by events. In reality Capello would have recognised the gamble of changing the system well into a tournament and its possible destabilising effects. I believe Capello wrongly came to this World Cup without a plan B. He had a qualifying campaign that ended prematurely and warm-up games in which to experiment with other formations and has not done so. I accept there is a strong argument that England’s players play their best football in a 4-4-2 and over complicating the system will not help them. I also think Capello would be unwise to change the formation again now at this tournament. Where Capello should be surer however is who plays where in his formation, most crucially in midfield.

The best teams at this World Cup and those that are successful will be the ones who arrived with a well practiced system, understood by all the players and a regular starting eleven, with healthy competition from the bench. The best managers will be those who can choose the right substitute at the right moment of a game to change things on the pitch for their team. Tactical changes that have the most impact will be minor tweaks to existing formations rather than wholesale switches between them. This is Capello’s first World Cup and in many ways it is showing. He failed to change things decisively against Algeria, resulting in a surge in pressure for the Slovenia game and ultimately a second place group finish that may lead to the tough task of Germany on Sunday.

Capello’s biggest failing at this World Cup has been the personnel of his midfield, just as it was for those who preceded him. Having settled on 4-4-2 the Italian has not been bold enough, despite a media image of him being above the celebrity status of footballers, to axe one of his better players. This is not, as may have been the case with Eriksson and Beckham, because the manager is blinded by a player’s fame but from a genuine desire to select the best eleven players available. However an England midfield given more balance by the exclusion of Gerrard or Lampard from the starting line-up would surely lead to more of the football seen in the better spells against Slovenia. Joe Cole on the left and Milner on the right seems to be the way forward against better teams, as a wandering Gerrard would leave Ashley Cole exposed. Capello has left it too late to try a five man attacking midfield in support of Rooney properly, but I wouldn’t be surprised to see either Cole or Gerrard unleashed as effectively a second striker or fifth midfielder, depending on who has the ball, should England go far in the knockout stages.

For the next game I can’t see Capello changing things and I hope England can replicate their best moves against Slovenia with more end product. Rooney’s brief rest at the end of this match will have him rested and hungry for goals and I still can’t help but think any real England hopes rest on whether or not he can find form. Our opponents in the next round should be fearful if he can, with 60 million souls greedy for glory getting behind him, as well as a manager who might’ve wasted opportunities in preparation but still holds the keys to success. Come on England!

Things can only get better…


Am I the only one that’s disappointed? Now I know everyone would have been gutted with England’s opening result but the tournament itself has yet to ignite into the vivid festival of football, of entertainment, that we have been promised. I write following Germany’s demolition of Australia, the only game with goals galore so far. I am yet to see an entertaining contest that gripped me for ninety minutes.

It is not only disappointment either; some aspects of this World Cup are simply irritating. The opening match was no classic but I forced myself to sit through out of a sense of occasion, only to be repulsed by that blaring soundtrack of horns that has accompanied every game since. The only game in which the ceaseless drone has not spoiled my viewing pleasure was England vs. USA, which I watched at a skewed angle in a bar with the only audible noise from the stadium being the rhythm of England fans’ drums. For all I know though the horns may have persisted in the comfort of homes across the nation, without the accompanying chorus of drunken chanting to beat them into submission.

 I also pity those who watched it at home and therefore may have actually heard the banal bleating of Adrian Chiles in the ITV studio. Why such a man was fought over and subsequently acquired for ludicrous amounts of money is beyond me. I could just about tolerate his autocue, everyman style on Match of the Day 2. This after all was a highlights show and unless you enter isolation to avoid hearing the scores at the weekend you are aware of the results when you tune in. His dull delivery seemed to matter less then. Live coverage however could do with an injection of occasion and excitement now and again, something Chiles does with all the effectiveness of a damp cloth. I imagine any genuine football fan could do a better job of presenting than him, as he seems to have entered some sort of depression in the absence of One Show co-presenter Christine Bleakely. Someone ought to remind him he’s getting paid to watch football at the World Cup! If he’s this bleak in South Africa I fear for GMTV when he returns to front their new look breakfast hello.

Other aspects of the broadcasting spoil the purity of the football. For example ITV in particular have a fetish for slow motion, showing not just glorious goals again but the gesticulations of a manager, the expressionless face of a manager or the brandishing of a yellow card again and again and again. Such clips are used not just in-play but again at half-time, eating into the precious seconds of “analysis” squeezed between commercial breaks and Chiles drearily informing us of upcoming unmissable fixtures. The “analysis” is conducted by the likes of Gareth Southgate, another boring character, and Marcel Desailly, whose comments are far from boring but not usually correct; “the midfield needs to sit down on the defence more”.

Then there was England’s opening performance and the shambles of Clint Dempsey’s goal. I have previously defended Capello’s handling of the Terry scandal but serious issues remain that should have been ironed out long ago and were not examined in the warm up matches. It is unacceptable that we do not know who our first choice goalkeeper is, our best midfield, our best formation or who will partner Terry out of uncapped Dawson and recently un-retired Jamie Carragher. One of these issues could seriously undermine a team’s chances of tournament glory, let alone all of them.

However on the upside things can only improve from here and England’s performance was their best in a while, despite the result. The coming days should see better football and better news for England, with Gareth Barry set to return, perhaps freeing up Gerrard to connect with Rooney and lead us to glory? Well, maybe.