[Available
from cradleoffear.com]
|
Review by Dan Taylor
Halloween
can be a tough time to be a horror film
fan. Poseurs come crawling out of the woodwork,
like worms from a zombie's head. Even the
studios get into the act, releasing things
like 13 GHOSTS in the hopes that you'll
plunk down your hard earned cash.
But, if you're like me and
just want to dispense with the nonsense,
you need to check out Alex Chandon's new
balls-to-the-walls, ultra-depraved horror
extravaganza entitled CRADLE OF FEAR.
In the tradition of anthologies
like DR. TERROR'S HOUSE OF HORRORS, and
CREEPSHOW, CRADLE sets up a worthy wraparound
story that goes a little like this: Kemper
(David McEwen), a hypnotist/child molester/serial
killer/cannibal is rotting in a British
asylum. In order to enact revenge on those
responsible for putting him behind bars,
he has 'The Man' (Cradle of Filth lead singer
Dani Filth) do his bidding. What follows
are four tales of horror laced with hardcore
gore and extreme violence that make the
likes of 13 GHOSTS look like Disney flicks.
Melissa (Emily Bouffante,
who also starred in Chandon's PERVIRELLA)
and Nikki (Melissa Forte) are slutty Goth
chicks who dress in vinyl, snort coke and
flirt with the pierced guy (Dani Filth)across
the dance floor. Unfortunately, that pierced
guy turns out to be a little more than he
appears to be on the surface and when Melissa
wakes the next morning she's feeling a bit
more than hungover.
Soon she's stumbling around
town seeing disfigured creatures taunting
and crying out for her, some with the most
disturbingly creeped out makeup this side
of the underrated NIGHTBREED. By the time
she arrives at Nikki's flat she's got a
full blown freak out brewing. The rest is
indescribable, but let's just say that when
Chandon had me good and ready for a Goth-chick
lesbo scene, I got something decidedly different.
The next tale is less gore-driven
and fits more into the mold of the EC Comic
tales that inspired the far tamer TALES
FROM THE CRYPT. When slutty Betty Page wanna-be
Sophie (Rebecca Eden) and her trampy bottle
blonde pal Emma (Emma Rice) decide to rob
a creepy old man's house, it has all the
earmarks of classic horror… dark house,
creaky floor boards, hidden money, and lots
of conveniently-placed blunt objects.
Mix in a blood-filled bathtub
and a little eye violence, and I've been
given enough evidence to halt my life of
crime!
Our third story has the feel
of Rod Serling's late, lamented NIGHT GALLERY.
Nick's a guy who appears, on the surface,
to have it all. Hot girlfriend with a great
rack, smooth ride, and a posh pad with all
the trappings of Brit wealth. We soon see
that isn't the case – in a revelation
that I won't spoil – and when he tries
to feel whole again his entire life ends
up spinning wildly out of control…
with sexy results. Oh, no wait, that should
say "deadly, creepy and vomit-filled
results."
The final tale of gore and
depravity is fueled by everybody's favorite
technology, the World Wide Web. Richard
(Stuart Laing) is the son of Detective Neilson
(Edmund Dehn), the cop who put Kemper behind
bars. Richard, like all good Web addicts,
soon tires of finding sites that are simply
twisted and bizarre and stumbles on The
Sick Room, a site filled with snuff-like
sequences of torture, mutilation, and fatal
violence. Never does he suspect that his
fascination may become his undoing.
CRADLE comes full circle in
the asylum as Nielson faces off with Kemper
and The Man in an orgy of blood and mayhem.
Frankly, it made me weep for those days
when I'd watch this sort of thing unspool
at a drive-in under the night sky and the
sweet aroma of cheap beer, South Jersey
weed, and Junior Johnson brand pork rinds.
Sigh.
Shot on high end video, CRADLE
OF FEAR's look only adds to its effectiveness.
The crispness of the images mixed with the
UK surroundings and actors gives it the
feel of a BBC series gone horribly awry,
which lets Chandon lull you into a false
sense of security. That security is eventually,
unavoidably shattered with some of the most
over-the-top violence and gore this side
of EVIL DEAD 2.
As for Mr. Filth? He remains
silent through much of the flick, adding
a menacing presence to the stories that's
punctuated with a wanton glee and blood-soaked
joy that makes it hard not to love the flick
and his performance. It might drag a bit
at two hours, but CRADLE OF FEAR is easily
the best mix of black humor and paint-the-screen-red
gore since THE CONVENT!
