THE TUNNEL: THE OTHER SIDE OF DARKNESS

Featuring: Enzo Tedeschi, Julian Harvey, Carlo Ledesma, Andy Rodoreda, Bel Deliá, Luke Arnold, Steve Davis, Eduardo Sanchez, Ahmed Salama and Andrew Mackie.
Director: Adrian Nugent

Reviewed Sunday December 5 at Monster Fest 2021, Cinema Nova, Melbourne.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

The key players at the centre of a unique moment in Australian cinema history reflect upon their achievements in The Tunnel: The Other Side of Darkness. Recounting the emerging technology, gathering of personalities, indie-film landscape and distribution infrastructure that smashed together and created the headline-grabber that was 2011’s The Tunnel, director Adrian Nugent’s deep-dive into the blind ambition and unshakeable faith behind the found-footage shocker is a must-see for genre fans and, more importantly, wannabe filmmakers everywhere (pictured, above: actress Bel Deliá and director Carlo Ledesma). 

When the production triumvirate of producer Enzo Tedeschi, writer Julian Harvey and director Carlo Ledesma decided to film a horror/thriller in the abandoned subway tunnels under Sydney’s CBD, elements such as budget constraints, daunting location logistics and the sector’s indifference to genre projects should have been key indicators that The Tunnel was not the best idea for a first feature. 

But the project was coalescing at a time when crowdfunding was peaking and Tedeschi, an understated but driven creative executive, brought old-school showmanship to the new filmmaking paradigm; he sold frames of his yet-to-shoot film for a dollar, counting on a secure production budget materialising ahead of lensing. He and Harvey then made the call that grabbed the industry’s attention - the film would go out free as a BitTorrent stream. The recognised tool of the video piracy criminal underworld would be used as a legitimate distribution platform.

The Tunnel: The Other Side of Darkness melds archival digital footage (as crisp now as when it was shot 11 years ago) with the recollections of many associated with the film. Cast members including Luke Arnold, Bel Deliá, Andy Rodoreda and Steve Davis, all front to recount the sense of community, unshakeable commitment and inevitable corner-cutting synonymous with independent film sets. The best ‘I-still-can’t-believe-it’ moment is when, posing as their news crew characters, the actors blend in with real-life journos at a press conference held by then-prime minister, Julia Gillard.

Although it veers very close to ‘insider only’ territory, the historical context in which Nugent and, on-camera, Tedeschi and Harvey recall life as BitTorrent denizens is no less compelling. The global trade-paper coverage of the film’s ultimate acquisition by local Paramount Studios' subsidiary Transmission Films and how damaging to all involved the ‘Studio Giant in Bed with Piracy Partner’ headlines became is behind-the-scenes gold (pictured, above: l-r, producer Enzo Tedeschi and writer Julian Harvey).        

One revelation left unexplored is in answer to the indelicate question - did The Tunnel make any money? It wrapped largely on budget and, at last count, the film had an estimated viral audience of 25 million views. But in the decade since The Tunnel crowd-surfed into existence, no major productions immediately come to mind that adopted the same distribution methodology. The documentary cites as creative inspiration that found-footage benchmark, The Blair Witch Project (co-director Eduardo Sanchez is a guest interviewee), but that film was a black ink-soaked blockbuster. Was the aim to get the film seen and/or turn a profit?

Irrespective of such crass considerations, the cult of The Tunnel is undeniable; Tedeschi recalls with pride a bucket-list moment when a chance meeting with Quentin Tarantino revealed the celebrated auteur as a Tunnel fan. And the influence of Harvey’s narrative and Ledesma’s visual stylings has resonated - check out the first episode of streaming service Shudder’s latest horror hit V/H/S 94 to see a terrific riff on life under a big city. 

The Tunnel: The Other Side of Darkness is a complete and compelling end-to-end account of independent production ingenuity and the passion it requires and inspires.

ANGELE

Featuring: Angèle, Marko, Laurence Bibot, Damso, Roméo Elvis and Dua Lipa.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

Currently available worldwide on Netflix.

Belgian singer/songwriter Angèle Van Laeken applies some carefully orchestrated introspection to her stardom in the so-appropriately self-titled documentary, Angèle. First-time director Sébastien Rensonnet and music-video veteran Brice Vdh corral third-person footage - much of it shot by the starlet herself, deep in her COVID-lockdown headspace -  and mould it to a template set by Madonna (Truth or Dare, 1991), Justin Bieber (Never Say Never, 2011) and Katy Perry (Part of Me, 2012). The resulting cinematic snapshot proves sweetly engaging, part confessional / part infomercial.

The opening salvo of images chronicling the pop sensation’s rise to homeland celebrity certainly leans into the privilege of her upbringing. The daughter of ‘90s pop singer Marka and actress/comedienne Laurence Bibot, she was blessed with talent that was encouraged from an early age, even if an underlying theme of the documentary is Angèle’s determination to break free of her parent’s public profiles and establish her own professional identity.

Taking its cues from the dozens of long-hand journals that she kept during her formative years, the documentary ticks off key moments in the 25 year-old’s development as a lyricist, public figure and person. These include winning over crowd indifference as support act to rapper Damso; hitting online viral heights, first as an Instagram personality and then with the release of her first song, La Loi de Murphy; and, the frenzied reception to her blockbuster album Brol and its record-breaking single, Tout oublier.

Perhaps because so much of their film is private moments captured on smartphones or home video, Rensonnet and Vdh use their subject’s performance presence sparingly. Fans tuning in to see concert footage or rehearsal time may be underwhelmed, but there is already plenty of that material in circulation. In fact, so consumed is the film with its distillation of modern fame, it is not her pairing with superstar Dua Lipa that resonates but instead the relationship Angèle has with her affectionate, outspoken grandmother.  

It becomes clear that a part of the documentary’s role is to provide a clear voice and sturdy platform for Van Laeken to close the door on several image-threatening moments that arose in the early stages of her fame. Paramount amongst these is how she dealt with the backlash against her brother, rapper Roméo Elvis, when he is outed for inappropriate sexual conduct, and the songstress takes both a firm stance against his actions while still maintaining her ‘family above all’ mantra. 

Emerging as a feminist icon in the wake of her #MeToo anthem Balance ton quoi role and coming-out as bisexual in late 2020 are handled with an evenhanded maturity, speaking to the film’s raison d’etre - the affirmation that Angèle has survived the first stage of her life in the spotlight and is poised to embrace whatever challenges she faces as a powerful, focussed young woman.

AINBO: SPIRIT OF THE AMAZON

Featuring: Lola Raie, Naomi Serrano, Dino Andrade, Joe Hernandez, Thom Hoffman, Rene Mujica, Yeni Alvarez, Bernardo De Paula, Alejandro Golas and Susanna Ballesteros.
Writers: Richard Claus, Brian Cleveland and Jason Cleveland.
Directors: Richard Claus and Jose Zelada.

Rating: ★ ★ ★

A Peruvian/Dutch co-production, AINBO boasts a strong-willed, Indigenous heroine, self-assured and sturdy of character, with one determined eye cocked towards her personal goals, the other watching over her people and their traditions. This stirring, culturally-layered adventure deserves to do for the Amazon jungle what Moana did for Hawaii and Frozen did for snow. 

Our titular heroine (energetically voiced by actress Lola Raie), is at a junction in her growth, both as a young woman and as a member of her tribal community. The village lies deep in Candamo rainforest, an uncharted pocket of jungle that legend has it exists on the back of an almighty beast named Turtle Motelo Mama (Susana Ballesteros). 

Increasingly alienated from her best friend and new village leader Princess Zumi (Naomi Serrano), Ainbo is befriended by her ‘spirit guides’ - an armadillo named Dillo (Dino Andrade), and a tapir named Vaca (Joe Hernandez), playing the ‘Timon and Pumba’ sidekick roles. Together, the trio discover their land is threatened by encroaching tree-crunching steel giants. Guided by Turtle Mama and the spirit of her ancestors, Ainbo sets about fighting Yacuruna, the evil jungle spirit, who manifests in the form of a linen-suit wearing corporate scumbag, Cornell DeWitt (Thom Hoffman).

Directors José Zelada and Richard Claus utilise the template established by the Mouse House in films like Moana, Frozen, Brave and Tangled and craft a familiar story of empowerment and family and friendship. A point of difference emerges in the use of centuries-old Amazonian customs and lore to tell this contemporary tale, as well as its addressing of the issue of deforestation and land clearing of traditionally-owned land in the  Basin.

It is the indigenous-themed elements that work best in Ainbo; an over-reliance on goofy humour, the kind that assumes kids need a pratfall or an eyeroll to stay engaged, are less impactful. The best moments recall Kirby Atkins’ 2019 pic Mosley, which embraced heritage and legacy with an equally engaging connection to its characters and setting. The CGI character animation lacks Pixar fluidity, although thankfully avoids mimicking the cliched, ‘doe-eyed’ facial designs of so much studio output; the landscapes are beautifully rendered, capturing the breathtaking Amazon greens and blues with true artistry.

KATE

Stars: Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Miku Patricia Martineau, Tadanobu Asano, Jun Kunimura, Michiel Huisman, Miyavi, Mari Yamamoto and Woody Harrelson.
Writer: Umair Aleem
Director: Cedric Nicolas-Troyan

Rating: ★ ★ ★

Kate is a great movie if you want to test out your new soundbar, or get back at that neighbour for renovating during lockdown. Director Cedric Nicolas-Troyan’s female assassin revenge thriller is best watched with the volume amped up to levels that both maximise the visceral rush of the ultra-violent action and drown out that pesky need for logic and depth in cinema.

Mary Elizabeth Winstead plays the titular avenger, a stealthy hitwoman trained since childhood in all manner of lethal means by Varrick, played by Woody Harrelson projecting a ‘I’ve done this before, just let me act’ vibe. When a hit goes wrong, Kate must pay the price; a one-night stand with Michiel Huisman (who also one-night-stood with Kaley Cuoco in The Flight Attendant) turns bad when she is poisoned with a radioactive drug and given 24 hours to live.

A billion miles away from the adorably cherubic Ramona in Scott Pilgrim vs The World, Winstead continues her transformation into A-list action heroine that began in earnest as The Huntress in Birds of Prey; she is a lean, mean, battered and bleeding killing machine, perfectly embodying the movie she’s in. It’s uncertain whether the actress’ planned career trajectory was as a butt-kicking, head-cracking vigilante; one can't help feel that after a 2016 that saw her topline the theatrical hit 10 Cloverfield Lane and the promising but ultimately unsuccessful network series BrainDead, Hollywood might have had loftier ambitions for her unique appeal and talent.

Act 2 kicks off with Kate seeking vengeance for her impending death by tracking down the Yakuza boss she believes ordered the hit. The journey takes her deep into the neon-lit Tokyo night, an odyssey that brings with it a brattish teen named Ani (Miku Patricia Martineau), the daughter of one of Kate’s recent whacks, and who can conveniently supply at lot of narratively-helpful information about her gangster relatives. Set in motion is a bone-cracking series of splattery encounters between Kate and knife-wielding gun-toting henchmen, all of whom die by some horribly violent and beautifully choreographed means (the in-the-chin/out-the-forehead knifing is a highlight). 

Early on, Kate hints at a need for a more sedate, less blood-soaked lifestyle, and the relationship she develops with Ani goes some way to fulfilling those longings. While the actresses work hard to make these moments count, Umair Aleem’s script is less committed. Also working against real-world feelings are plot developments that don’t make a lot of sense (if they can find Kate in a classy bar to poison her, why not just cap her ass there and then?) Wild shoot-outs and stabby hand-to-hand conflict unfold randomly and regularly in heavily-populated locations, suggesting Tokyo is one of those police-free big cities often found in these sorts of films.

All others aspects of this mid-range Netflix programmer adhere to the wronged female assassin template, maximised in pics like Bridget Fonda’s The Assassin, its French source material La Femme Nikita, Soarise Ronan’s Hanna and, most recently, Karen Gillan’s Gunpowder Milkshake. Also in the mix is the central plot device of the 1949 film noir classic D.O.A., remade in 1988 with Dennis Quaid as the poisoned protagonist. Kate is a movie that nods to other, better movies, but which does enough to punch a hole in lockdown boredom for 100+ minutes.

WITCHES OF BLACKWOOD

Stars: Cassandra Margrath, Kevin Hofbauer, Lee Mason, Susan Vasiljevic, Francesca Waters, Nikola Dubois, John Voce, Nicholas Denton and Francesca Waters.
Writer: Darren Markey
Director: Kate Whitbread

WITCHES OF BLACKWOOD will release day-and-date on September 7 on DVD and Premium TVOD, followed by a full digital release.

Rating: ★ ★ ★

Reaffirming the long held cinematic maxim that anyone who lives in a small country town has something horrible to hide, Kate Whitbread’s flavourful, female-focused ‘Australian Gothic’ chiller Witches of Blackwood spins a slow burn narrative steeped in dark memories and sinister secrets to increasingly potent effect. 

Cassandra McGrath stars as Claire Nash, a cop relieved of duty while the suicide of a young man (a terrific Nicholas Denton) in her presence is being investigated. A phone call from her Uncle Cliff (Brit actor John Voce) brings Claire home to the bush township of Blackwood; her dilapidated family home, scene to moments of mystery and menace in the past, needs tending. 

Despite its pretty eucalyptus backdrop, Blackwood is a soulless place, its streets empty but for a few sallow-eyed women, wandering aimlessly. Horrors begin to arise around Claire; gruesome animal remains, a blood-soaked woman in her bathtub, ethereal visions in the bushlands. As hinted at not-so-subtly in the US title (it was ‘The Unlit’ during its limited cinema season Down Under), the dark spirits that haunt Blackwood are emerging and tied directly to the legacy left by Claire’s family.

The first act of Darren Markey’s script hits character beats that establish Claire and her mental anguish, but meanders on its journey to Blackwood. The film finds surer footing as the spectre of the supernatural surfaces. McGrath plays ‘unravelling sanity’ well and the confluence of her past and Blackwood’s present gives the actress some emoting opportunities that don’t always arise in genre pics. The twist that bridges the ‘then and now’ and brings Claire’s journey full circle is as well-handled as any of M. Night Shyamalan’s recent efforts.

The on-trend ‘folk horror’ vibe, including the full extent of the coven’s bloodlust, delivers in gruesome detail. While it lacks the mythological backstory of Ari Aster’s Midsommar or warped psychology of Darren Aronofsky’s Mother!, the oppressive darkness that smothers the township and courses through Claire makes Witches of Blackwood an intriguingly nightmarish entry in the genre.

WHEN I'M A MOTH

Stars: Addison Timlin, TJ Kayama and Toshiji Takeshima.
Writer: Zachary Cotler.
Directors: Zachary Cotler and Magdalena Zyzak.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

Taking as their starting point a small window of ambiguity in the private history of a very public figure, directors Zachary Cotler and Magdalena Zyzak imagine a formative time in the Alaskan boondocks of 1969 for one Hillary Rodham. A commanding central performance by Addison Timlin and the skill of DOP Lyn Moncrief, whose lensing affords the film the evocative aesthetic of a European chamber piece, ensure When I’m a Moth is a captivating, if determinedly atypical study of political drive.     

Based upon a throwaway (and frustratingly unprovable) passage in her 2003 autobiography Living History, in which Rodham claims to have gone full blue-colour on a fish cannery production line after her accomplished college years, When I’m a Moth presents 20-something Hillary energised by ‘Summer of Love’ free-spiritedness yet still tied to her privileged upbringing and focussed ambition. She has travelled north to Valdez to experience ‘life’, but social graces, a crisply-worn red jacket and her writing desk downtime, penning  pristine handwritten letters home to her parents, suggest you can take the girl out of Wellesley, but…

America is embroiled in the Vietnam War, which may be why Rodham reaches out to two Japanese fishermen who eye her off daily (and why Cotler sets the men’s hometowns as Nagasaki and Hiroshima, also victims of America’s military might in years past). Mitsuru (Toshiji Takeshima; above, left) is the hardened elder, unmoved and a little disdainful of Rodham’s intellectual chit-chat; the younger Ryohei (TJ Kayama; above, right) is intrigued, and soon he and Rodham are connecting...kind of. She woos him, albeit unwittingly, with her sweet, sexy smarts, exuding promise and the potential for greatness, but when his dreams start to include her, she withdraws; ultimately, she won’t even reveal her surname to him. 

There is a strong vein of symbolism in When I’m a Moth, no less so than in the romantic connection between the two leads. Hilary’s appeal to Ryohei and her ultimate rejection speaks to the lure, disillusionment and disappointment many immigrants experience when chasing the ‘American Dream’. The film's landscape is bathed in a dreamlike haze, often the mist rolling in off the Alaskan waters but also soft-focus candles, pitch-black backgrounds and discordant angles; the world of Hilary's northern sojourn is as imagined as the narrative.

Addison Timlin is a revelation as Hilary; physically, she appears as one imagines Rodham may have 50+ years ago but, more importantly, she sells the musings of a fresh-out-of-college young WASP woman as focused and singularly linear. Rodham’s drive to succeed in public service life and ambitions of life in the highest office she can envision is conveyed with piercing clarity in Timlin’s performance. 

Also conveyed is the centrifugal force that Rodham would become, often to her detriment. Her journey to Alaska was to garner other-world experience yet, like a missionary spreading the gospel, she is equally enriched by how those around her react in her presence. As an imagined construct of a tiny portion of Hilary Rodham’s maturing, When I’m a Moth embodies the very essence of how both supporters and detractors would come to perceive America’s most popular un-elected Presidential candidate.

YOU CANNOT KILL DAVID ARQUETTE

Featuring: David Arquette, Christina McLarty Arquette, Rosanna Arquette, Patricia Arquette, Courtney Cox, Coco Arquette, Jack 'Jungle Boy' Perry, ‘Diamond’ Dallas Page, Rj Skinner, Eric Bischoff and Jerry Kubik.
Writers/directors: David Darg and Price James.

YOU CANNOT KILL DAVID ARQUETTE will be available on digital platforms September 6 in Australia via Blue Finch Film Releasing.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

From its title on down, this study of a man determined to right a wrong while reigniting his celebrity is filled with layers of meaning. The words ‘You Cannot Kill David Arquette’ is certainly a rousing declaration from the actor that there is still life and promise in him yet. They could also work as a contract stipulation for any pro wrestlers involved in the production, so hated was Arquette in the wake of a 20 year-old publicity stunt that made him wrestling’s most reviled figure.

In 2000, David Arquette was leaning into the perception that the exciting young actor who had emerged in the booming ‘90s indie sector was also a bit...kooky. He had broken out as goofball cop Dewey in the Scream franchise and decided to double-down the on-screen daffiness with a lead role in the wrestling comedy, Ready to Rumble. To promote the film, he got in the ring with real-life wrestling giants and walked away with the WCW World Heavyweight Championship; fans were less than impressed (and baulked on watching Ready to Rumble, which bombed).        

You Cannot Kill David Arquette finds the man nearing 50, happily married to Christina McLarty Arquette (the film’s producer), but in the career doldrums. It is not immediately obvious why he would want to return to the scene of his infamy other than honouring the old adage, ‘any publicity is good publicity’, but motivations emerge; he loves wrestling, has since childhood, and is tormented that he will forever be, in his words, “a smear on its legacy.”

In tracking Arquette’s arduous return to, first physical activity, then the professional circuit, directors David Darg and Price James capture aspects of the man that drag their film, kicking and screaming at times, beyond a chronicle of eccentricity. Arquette’s mental health and the potential impact upon his addiction issues is examined; the very real concern for his physical well-being, given pre-existing conditions; and, how his family (including sisters Patricia and Rosanna, teenage child Coco and ex-wife Courtney Cox) view his typically unpredictable career choices.

And Arquette puts in the hard yards. The physique goes from ‘dad bod’ to an athlete’s frame over the course of the film. He earns pro-wrestling cred by pitting himself against backyard battlers (who absolutely f**kin’ hate him) and plunging into the choreographed theatricality of Mexico City’s luchadores troupes. In one legitimately shocking sequence, he suffers a near-fatal neck-wound when an exhibition match goes bad. Emotions take a hit, too; the film is dedicated to Arquette’s friend, the late Luke Perry. 

If it is the spirit of pro-wrestling that the actor wants to honour with his return to the canvas, You Cannot Stop David Arquette works wonderfully to that end. It is, in equal measure, a rousing sports-drama narrative and pure bells-&-whistles; a study in struggle and pain to achieve a personal goal and managed spectacle in the name of putting on a great show. If that doesn’t capture the essence of the sport, it’d be hard to pinpoint what does, and ought to correct the anti-Arquette sentiment amongst his fellow leotard-lovers.

VAL

Featuring: Val Kilmer, Jack Kilmer, Mercedes Kilmer and Joanne Whalley. 
Directors: Ting Poo, Leo Scott

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★ ½

Val Kilmer has forever existed in a weird Hollywood limbo, a professional realm between brilliant, talented character actor and A-list heartthrob star. His darkest period professionally was also his biggest box office success - Batman Forever. His career has fluctuated between films that didn't find an audience (The Doors, The Ghost & The Darkness, Wonderland); for which he seemed awkwardly ill-suited (Willow, The Real McCoy, Red Planet); or, benefitted from his vivid support work (Tombstone,True Romance, Heat, Top Gun).

In the documentary Val, he provides a first-person account of his life - the work he’s known for, the loves he has had, the man he is now. All the footage is taken from a personal archive of material shot either by him or of him (collated by directors Ting Poo and Leo Scott), from his earliest high-school plays through to the contemplative but ebullient cancer survivor he is today. His personal journal provides the narrative, read in voice-over provided by his son Jack.

Just as the man is a unique film industry figure, so is Val that rarest of beasts - a star profile that eschews, even undermines, the subject’s celebrity to provide not an actor’s portrait, but an everyman journey of a complex individual. Industry milestones, like working with his idol Marlon Brando on the infamous Queensland shoot of The Island of Dr Moreau, ultimately seem like existential asides compared the lifelong grief of losing his teenage brother Ben, wooing then divorcing his wife Joanne Whaley, raising their children and coming to terms with the legacy of his father. 

The darkness of his past is balanced by a mature-age man’s boundless playfulness. At one point he collapses in front of the camera, only to rise from the floor giggling at his son’s panicked reaction. He can be a bit of an arsehole, as some of his directors and co-stars can attest, and which he acknowledges and attempts to put into perspective in the doco.

His late-career, last pre-cancer project Citizen Twain, in which he dons heavy make-up for his self-penned one-man show that explores the life of America’s great humorist, embodies not only the immense talent but also the rare empathy that Val Kilmer brought to his most invested characters. Those elements are what shine through in Val.

CLASS REUNION 3: SINGLES CRUISE (LUOKKAKOKOUS 3 - SINKKURISTEILY)

Stars: Jaajo Linnonmaa, Aku Hirviniemi, Sami Hedberg, Ilona Chevakova, Eino Heiskanen, Niina Lahtinen, Antti Luusuaniemi, Pihla Maalismaa, Mari Perankoski, Jukka Puotila, Kuura Rossi and Pertti Sveholm.
Writers: Renny Harlin, Aleksi Bardy and Mari Perankoski; based on characters created by Claudia Boderke and Lars Mering.
Director: Renny Harlin.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ 

The low-brow hijinks of middle-aged man-children has been a comedy staple the world over, nowhere more so than Finland. There, two bawdy, lamebrained romps - Luokkakokous (Reunion, 2015) and Luokkakokous 2 (Reunion 2: The Bachelor Party, 2016) - earned Finnish blockbuster status, boasting over 800,000 admissions. And when the words ‘Finnish’ and ‘blockbuster’ are paired up, the words ‘Renny’ and ‘Harlin’ aren’t far behind.

And so we find the action veteran making his first film in his homeland since 1986’s Born American, a forgotten B-action lark that was inventive enough visually and successful enough commercially for L.A. to notice. Soon, with the cult horror pics Prisoner (1987) and A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: Dream Master (1988) to his name, he would become Hollywood’s hottest director - Die Hard 2 (1990); Cliffhanger (1993); The Long Kiss Goodnight (1996); and, Deep Blue Sea (1999) represented a run of hits few directors experience (not to mention that cinematic asterisk, 1995’s Cutthroat Island, which was a whole other experience entirely).

For his homecoming present, the Finnish industry has gift wrapped Harlin a surefire hit in Luokkakokous 3 - Sinkkuristeily (Class Reunion 3: Singles Cruise), only asking in return that he brings his consummate style in service of jokes about catheterization, masturbating, flatulence, urinary retention, laxatives...you get the idea. Reuniting for #3 and leaving no doubt as to why the Reunion franchise is a crowd favourite are original cast members Jaajo Linnonmaa, the most popular breakfast radio host in Finland; Aku Hirviniemi, one of Finland’s acting superstars; and Sami Hedberg, the nation’s most popular stand up comedian.

Our immature mature-age trio are facing the hard truths of growing older. Antti (Hedberg) is fat and lonely, jerking off to infomercial hostesses and seeming barely coping with anything adult, like interacting with his young son (Kuura Rossi) and estranged wife (Ilona Chevakova). Tuomas (Linnonmaa) remains a free-spirited rock’n’roll wannabe, imagining life a non-stop party and sex with his wife to be far more spectacular than it is. By far the most interesting character development involves Niklas, aka ‘Nippe’ (Hirviniemi), who is sensing that his latent bisexuality may finally need acknowledging.

To get Antti some action, they decide that a singles cruise is the best option. Clearly, the film was conceived and greenlit pre-COVID while somewhat ironically, was one of the few that completed principal shooting during the pandemic. On the high seas, and with Antti’s senile father (Pertti Sveholm) doin’ alright with the ladies...to a point, the lovely Pilve (Pihla Maalismaa) falls for Antti; Tuomas almost scores with two Swedish poledancing influencers; and, Nippe goes full-Winslet with a handsome steward (Eino Heiskanen) in the cargo hold. 

Much of Class Reunion 3 is very beautiful to look at, with Harlin employing DOP Matti Eerikäinen to fill the screen with eye-popping colour and opulent sets, often bathed in smoky sunlight. It is a lot of effort to capture glistening gold fountains of urine or a shit-smeared bedroom wall, but this is where the Reunion films make their money (and likely a hefty sum for the director). There is a fun through-line in nostalgia, with oddly-placed but warmly recognisable references to the Village People, The Love Boat, The Shining and, rather distastefully, Carl Douglas’ gimmick-hit Kung-Fu Fighting. Just as much fun is had in spotting Harlin’s nods to his own career highlights, with none-too-subtle shout-outs to Cliffhanger and Die Hard 2.

Every repugnant moment and non-PC aside seems so calculated to offend as to make the very effort to upset redundant. Instead, there’s a goofy charm to the antics of the three friends; such is the level of their blokish idiocy, the joke is mostly on them. And when it’s not, the barbs are aimed at the most deserving - vulgar tourists, boorish stepdads, shrill social media types. This isn’t uncharted territory for Harlin - with shock comic Andrew Dice Clay, he upset everybody in 1990 with The Adventures of Ford Fairlane - and watching him once again indulge in humour puerile and extreme will be a guilty pleasure for many.

THE DEEP HOUSE

Stars: Camille Rowe, James Jagger, Eric Savin and Carolina Massey.
Writers: (French) Alexandre Bustillo, Julien Maury; (English) Julien David, Rachel Parker.
Directors: Alexandre Bustillo, Julien Maury.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★ 

What do you call two internet influencers at the bottom of a lake? If you answered, “A good start”, you’ll likely find some dark-hearted glee amongst the legit chills in The Deep House, the latest from horror cinema’s most promising new directors of the ‘00s, Alexandre Bustillo and Julien Maury.

Brattish Urbex YouTuber Ben (James Jagger) has convinced his gf Tina (Camille Rowe) to travel the European countryside, exploring society’s forgotten relics, the kind that often hold supernatural potential. Ben is the sort of boyfriend who enjoys frightening Tina in abandoned mansions, because that’s what earns likes and shares on his travel site; on more than one occasion, Tina justifiably mutters, “You’re so annoying.” 

Their latest destination is a submerged home deep in a remote French lake. Led there by Pierre (Eric Savin), that most dangerous of horror tropes - the ‘mysterious local’ - Ben and Tina (with their underwater drone camera, ‘Tom’, as in ‘peeping’) are soon exploring the murky depths yet oddly pristine corridors of Montegnac House. The setting is pure ‘haunted estate’, but the claustrophobic intensity of scuba diving and the constant ticking-clock that is the oxygen reader exponentially increases the tension.

When their debut 2007 work À l'intérieur (Inside) was judged amongst the best of the new wave of French ‘hardcore horror’ films, the sheer brutality and filmmaking bravado of Bustillo and Maury earned them critical bouquets and cult status (both of which were less forthcoming with the arty hollowness of their 2011 follow-up, Livide). 

With The Deep House, they embrace a more barebones aesthetic; a first-person immediacy, the kind of filmmaking usually associated with the ‘found footage’ genre. Go-pros, drone lensing, body-cams, hi-tech mask-mics - the cutting edge tools of the video adventurer are used to record a fateful expedition, an undertaking filled with the kind of shocking revelations and otherworldly vistations that, ironically, would have ensured Ben the social media eyeballs he craved.

In the 14 years since they burst onto the scene, Alexandre Bustillo and Julien Maury have only improved as cinema craftspeople. With almost an hour of its 83 min story spent underwater, the directors and their DOP Jacques Ballard were submerged for 33 production days, capturing Hubert Pouille’s detailed production design and Ilse Willcox’s set decoration with consummate artistry. That The Deep House manages to be a white-knuckle ghost story as well seems like a value-added bonus.