(1982)
Dir - Lindsey C. Vickers
Overall: GOOD
A flawed yet atmospherically chilling work and the only full-length from writer/director Lindsey C. Vickers, The Appointment takes the slow-burn approach to absurd heights. The elementary plot alludes instead of makes explicit the themes of blossoming womanhood and the tension between father and daughter that such an inevitability brings. As Edward Woodward has to break it to his fourteen year old that he will miss her much anticipated violin recital on account of a last minute work engagement, (or "appointment" as the title proclaims), the disappointment and frustration that both parties endure is played in a typically British, well-mannered way, hinting at everything from telekinetic rage to otherworldly influences. The bulk of the film is an incredibly drawn-out suspense sequence that begins with both Woodward and his wife Jane Merrow experiencing premonitions in dream form, followed by perhaps one of the longest build-ups in cinema history. It detours at a few instances with ominous set pieces that while unsettling are also unnecessary to the narrative, creating some pacing issues in the process. For the most part though, Vickers treatment of the material is expertly done.
(1984)
Dir - Saxon Logan
Overall: MEH
Though it barely constitutes as a feature-length film, Sleepwalker can still be classified as such a debut from Saxon Logan, though unfortunately it is a cynical and ultimately pointless endeavor. Running merely fifty-one minutes in length, this is a bizarre watch that somehow throws in bitter, middle class scumbags getting drunk and letting fly their disdain for each other, all with nightmares and slasher killings shoehorned in during the final moments. Aggravatingly underwritten, on the one hand it is a saving grace that we are in and out so quickly since everyone on screen is an odious stereotype of self-centered, Thatcher-era yuppies who would rather be anywhere than where they are while on screen. At the same token though, the brisk running time understandably gives it a sloppy feel as if key information is lacking so that when the blood-shed erupts in the finale and then the whole thing just as suddenly ends, it comes off as half-baked at best and amatuerishly misguided at worst. It has some dread-fueled atmosphere and striking cinematography from Nick Beeks-Sanders, but this is hardly enough to make up for such a confused effort.
(1985)
Dir - Richard Driscoll
Overall: MEH
Overall: MEH
The directorial debut from controversial filmmaker Richard Driscoll, The Comic is a stylistically daring yet confused work that comes off like a low-rent fever dream hybrid of film noir, David Lynch's Eraserhead, and Terry Gilliam's Brazil, except with the worst stand-up "jokes" in the history of mankind as well as top-to-bottom awful characters. In the lead, Steve Munroe comes off like a cross between David Caruso, Tom Waits, Danny Elfman, and Eddie Izzard, mugging his way through a bizarre portrayal as a desperate comedian who murders his competitor, marries a drug-addicted prostitute, and just keeps going crazy. Bathed in more fog than most Gothic horror films would ever allow, it was apparently shot on the same 19th century sets as the same year's The Doctor's and the Devils, which is odd since that movie was a period one while this takes place in a dystopian, fascist police state. Independently financed, it defies genre classification in many respects with a surreal, cynical tone that is visually interesting in its bleak, often garish ugliness that wears its minuscule budget on its sleeve. It would be a more admirable achievement if it was also not so miserable and inconsistent, but arthouse exploitation fans may at least find it to be a worthy curiosity.
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