(1990)
Dir - Philippe Setbon
Overall: MEH
A British/French co-production with an international cast, Mr. Frost blows what should be a fool-proof premise of Jeff Goldblum playing Satan. Worth the price of admission for a curiosity glance at least, the film persistently struggles with its rambling narrative which loses site of its main selling point after the first act and then focuses on a series of characters that are hardly as interesting as Goldbum's mass-murdering, smooth-as silk Great Deceiver. Arrested for torturing, murdering, and burying a series of bodies, Goldblum smirks through his days for a few years before breaking silence at a swanky lunatic asylum in France where he only converses with Kathy Baker's psychiatrist. His plan is to convince a cynical and psychologically-focused world that he is real, but his means of doing this are flimsy and again, the movie forgets about him throughout most of its running time. Director Philippe Setbon peppers the movie with a synth and sexy sax score as well as a couple of supernatural flashes, but Goldblum's quirky charisma is not enough to save the end product.
(1991)
Dir - Mark Peploe
Overall: MEH
The first of two full-lengths from screenwriter Mark Peploe, Afraid of the Dark is a curious psychological thriller that never gains its footing. A French/British co-production with most of the cast stemming from jolly ole England, (where the film is also set), it concerns the troubled fancies of a young boy, yet the presentation is nearly that of an anthology film since it switches gears halfway through. This is a clever rug-pull in some respects and it is one that shines further light on the young protagonist's anxieties, which stem around his own faulty eyesight and an upcoming operation that he must undergo. Unfortunately, Peploe and co-screenwriter Frederick Seidel keep little Ben Keyworth's character at a strange distance from the viewer, so we never get a solid sense of what he is afraid of or why. This may be intentional to mirror the confused angst of youth, but Keyworth seems to have a supporting family and community, as well as no violent tendencies, plus every encroaching threat in his life proves to be imaginary. We are left in the dark more than made afraid of it as the title would suggest, and the whole thing comes off as a competent yet confused musing on prepubescent delusions that fails to be frightening, atmospheric, or interesting.
(1994)
Dir - Ray Brady
Overall: WOOF
An unpleasant Saw precursor, Boy Meets Girl puts a feminist slant on the ole kidnap and torment gag. Set almost entirely in a black room where a hapless adulterer gets snatched up by two women who proceed to talk him to death on top of inflicting various physical torture, its one-note trajectory grows old immediately. The female abductors are just as stubborn as the male abductee, getting nowhere as they trade psychological musings with each other as to the nature of the sexes, violence, fantasies, societal norms, and hypocrisy. This was the debut from director Ray Brady and he and co-screenwriter Jim Crosbie have an agenda to challenge the notoriously strict British censors, dancing around more explicit visuals while still keeping the subject matter relentlessly dour and "obscene" by the ole video nasty standards. One may champion its intentions, but there is no denying that it is poorly shot, poorly paced, and poorly recorded, particularly when it comes to Danielle Sanderson's mumbled and whispered dialog, which is taxing at best to make out. Torture porn-adjacent works by their very nature are problematic to justify, and this amateurish installment may not be as graphic as later offenders, but it is easily more boring and ultimately pointless than the lot of them.
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