I really enjoyed the time I spent browsing Indiegogo yesterday, checking out the new horror projects and just generally absorbing their enthusiasm. So here is another Indiegogo Spotlight from me, this time about a female-led horror called Feral.
Feral is set in an isolated forest. A young woman who is on a camping trip with her boyfriend ends up having to fight a supernatural force that leaves her trapped and alone in said isolated forest. Feral will deal with issues of trauma, violence and shame, and is hoped to "truthfully dissect a painful reality that’s far too familiar for most women, and far too many others, and we hope our film can help in the healing process."
The teaser above is certainly a tease, but the music and disturbing smile (and of course, the dribbling blood) all make it wet the appetite for what the finished film could be like. I hope writer/director Madeline Metcalfe and her companions manage to get it funded, as it sounds like a very interesting prospect.
Feral is looking for funding to help with a variety of costs inherent in creating a film, from paying actors, to travel costs and insurance. If you'd like to support this project, you can view its Indiegogo page at this link.
I've never been a "raver", I bow to the gods of metal and dark ambient, but when I saw this campaign on Indiegogo, I was intrigued. The Rave is a short horror film in which people take strange drugs at a rave (shock!) and stumble across "gruesome horrors" after ingesting them.
The film is being created by third year students at the Baltic Film and Media School, and the Indiegogo campaign is hoped to help them with creating the "stunning visuals loyal to the techno rave scene. Without money this would be impossible to realise."
As well as being a horror, the makers hope the film will promote conscientious drug use, as it brings attention to the risks inherent in dosing yourself with unknown compounds and creations.
Watch the Vimeo teaser below. I did, and I was quite taken with the visuals and the aesthetics of what was happening. This film looks like it will be well worth watching when it is finished.
Esoterika is the
most recent album from Humanfobia, a dark experimental music project
from Chile. It consists of two members: Mist Spectra and Sábila
Orbe, and is a project inspired by the supernatural, life after death
and ghostly happenings. The music could fall into any number of
categories, from dark ambient to witch house, but it’s dark, which
is the main thing I tend to look for.
On Esoterika,
Mist Spectra provides the haunting feminine vocals, her phasing
shimmering words at times clear and bright, at others like a whisper
from the grave, depending on the track. Sadly, I don’t speak
Spanish, so I couldn’t understand what was being said, but the
track titles gave enough of a hint for me to get the feel of what was
happening.
This leads me to
the first track that I clicked with: Gato Negro (black cat). A bouncy
electronic tone sets a rhythm, and is soon joined by the sharp meow
of a cat. It’s all a little discordant, which is part of the charm.
The cat sounds range from the normal to the quite severe, and at
times, the other sounds in the track seem to mimic the cat. By the
end, I thoroughly had the cat’s meow on my brain, and came away
really liking the track.
Next up is Phantasmal
Doppelg▲nger. A fast beat is joined by a ghostly wavering voice,
while a quieter rhythm sits in the background, carrying the track
along. Beeps and bursts of electronic noise join things, a little
like a modem handshake at a laser show, and the voice, when it fades
and reappears, shimmers. The overall image this track created in my
mind was what it would be like for a ghost or creature to come
through an old CRT monitor, only to stare the user in the eyes as
their double.
Ʃso₸erika is next, a punchy track with a
mixture of both masculine and feminine vocals, along with various
electronic tones and beats. The vocals seem to stutter in and out,
phasing with the pulsing notes. It almost sounded a little like a
chip-tune song to me at around the midpoint, something from an old
NES video game corrupted by dark influences maybe? A fun track
though, either way.
MΛgic Spells of Doom is the final track I wanted
to talk about individually. Fuzzy electro noises and vocals from Mist
Spectra echo and squelch into a soundscape that's ripe with buzzing
activity. There is also a pleasing muffled effect, like the digitized
sounds are happening underwater. Later there are what could be the
sounds of a radio sweeping through frequencies, maybe the
spell-caster of the title tapping into different levels of existence?
All of the tracks on Esoterika are haunting
in their own way, the various electronic sounds, samples and tones
creating a dark digital space in which technology and the
supernatural just might be meeting and bashing out a few obscene
offspring. I’m not used to listening to the kind of electronic beats that Esoterika provides, but the
dark samples and tone held this dark ambient fan’s interest
throughout. What’s more, Esoterika is a free download from
the Humanfobia Bandcamp page. You can visit that page by clicking
here if you’d like to find out more. You might also like to check
out Phantasmal Doppelg▲nger below:
Personal
identity has become a far more complicated thing in the age of the
Internet. Not only do we have the usual ideas about who we are, but
now we can measure our “worthiness” by the numbers we can
generate online. Fun to think about, not so fun if we become defined
by it all. CAM makes use of this idea, and spins an interesting tale from it.
CAM
is an adult-rated horror thriller that follows the attempts of Lola,
a reasonably high-ranking
cam-girl, to increase her Rank on the
website that she cams for. It begins with her talking to her viewers,
reacting to their crude jokes and suggestions and generally trying to
charm them into tipping/bidding coins to get her to do things. Being
the Internet, it doesn’t take long for the suggestions to take a
turn to the dark side. This pales in comparison however, to when she
later finds out that she appears to have a double, one who has taken
control of her account and is meddling in her life.
This
doppelgänger aspect is what I found most intriguing and enjoyable
about CAM. The idea that another “me” could break away and be
doing the stuff I do online, but in a more extreme way, is certainly
an interesting proposition. As far as the film is concerned, it takes
quite awhile for the viewer (and Lola) to find out the nature of what
is going on, beyond the “Holy shit that’s me!” element. There’s
paranoia about it being a competing cam-girl, or one of her fans, or
even the cam site streaming old shows again.
We
are kept guessing about the double for what felt like just over half
the film's length. The “horror” aspect emerged after Lola’s
investigations turned up a surprising thing about another cam-girl. It
wasn’t much later that the nature of the doppelgänger was
revealed. I quite liked the form it took, and could get on board with
how Lola ultimately dealt with things. Even the very end, after things settled a little, proved a surprise as to how she decided to
go about life in the aftermath.
CAM
was written by Isa Mazzei, a former cam-girl herself, which was
something that I had no idea about before writing this review. I
think that’s why the film seemed to have interesting terms and
details, such as the scenes where Lola talks about finding her
“whale” (a wealthy person who spends lots on online currencies
for in-app purchases) and also the way that the cam-girls compete
with each other. The scene where Lola is watching her biggest rival, trying to learn tips, is a small thing, but in a less thoughtful film,
probably wouldn’t have even featured. You also feel for Lola, especially as he secret life clashes with her friends and family against her will.
CAM
is sexual but not overly so. The words are the most explicit, and as
far as flesh, flashes of breasts and implied nakedness/erotic deeds
are about as risqué as things get. There is some bloody gore, but
even here, that is quite minimal, and in the context of the
narrative, not as it seems. The graphical way that the message room
works on-screen is realised very well, the frenzy of messages paced fairly and readable in a comfortable way. The only thing that made me
laugh a little was the very specific animated gifs people sent in
almost instant response to what was happening with Lola.
If
you have Netflix, check it CAM out, I think it's well worth a watch.
I wrote a news piece
about A Dark Song a few years ago, and then promptly forgot
all about it. I remembered that it sounded intriguing though, so when
I was flicking through the TV guide and saw that it was showing on
Film Four, the penny dropped and I might well have gone “Ooooh!”
into the bargain. Well, I watched it this afternoon and I’m very
pleased that I did. It’s a cracking horror film, in most of the
ways that I enjoy.
Sophia (Catherine
Walker) begins the film by renting a massive house. She then meets up with Joseph
Solomon (Steve Oram), an occultist that she wants to employ to
help her perform a special ritual, one that will give her something
that she wants, and she is willing to pay tens of thousands of pounds
for the privilege. She isn’t totally honest with the blunt man, but
after securing his services, the slow build of the film begins.
This brings me to the
first thing that impressed me. Many occult horrors gloss over much of
the tedium and legwork needed to perform whichever ritual is needed
correctly. Not so A Dark Song. From the diet and food
provisions, to the salt circle and purifications needed, the first
half of the film is steeped in interesting observances and dogmas.
That’s not to say that there aren’t any signs of paranormal
entities taking notice. There are, but these are quite subtle, more
unnerving than horrific. Strange synchronicities, quiet scratchings,
stuff about as far removed from the jumpscare-fests that many horrors
turn into as you can get.
The other element that
makes the quieter half of the film interesting is the interaction
between Sophia
and Joseph, from his grim, sweary manner and humour,
to her generally annoying attitude and paranoia. The film made me
chuckle out loud in a number of places, usually with Joseph being
very blunt, or making semi-frequent use of the C word. Two people
stuck in a house together for months on end; the grinding on each
other's nerves is a fascinating thing to witness. The house itself is
practically another character, the large rooms and creaking wood
floors framing the exchanges between the two occupants in a kind of
shabby gothic lens.
The second half of the
film is when things turn to their darkest, with events not quite
going to plan, lies emerging, and the atmosphere thickening so much
that you could stir it with a spoon. Even here though, the film is
still the less bombastic side of horror, even the moments of mild
gore fairly tame by most standards. Things do escalate at the end,
but even there, the final scenes did seem to sit nicely at the apex
of tension that had been built up. I guess that’s a wordy way of
saying that I didn’t think things went too far.
The ending, when it
came, felt suitably strange, but also a little disappointing. It
wasn’t so much the manner of what happens, but the route Sophia
decides to take after. I just didn’t buy it, to go through all
that she did, to choose the outcome that she opted for. It felt twee
if I’m honest, and I don’t really like twee. I also didn’t feel
I’d seen enough changes in her throughout the film to warrant such
a direction. It felt like watching someone embark on an epic
journey, only to turn back for home inches from the destination,
having decided that actually, they would rather be at home. As with
most things though, it’s probably a matter of expectation and
taste, and I won’t let my disappointment with the ending mar what I
thought was a fantastic film.
A
Dark Song, taken as a whole, really impressed me. I liked the
spiky characters, the occult mystique and the attempt to portray the
drudgery that grand magick would entail. The supernatural elements
escalate nicely, the slow simmering at the start coming to the boil
in a pleasing way at just about the right time. I wasn’t scared
during this horror, I don’t remember when a horror last made me
feel afraid. I was more a tourist of uneasiness, able to vicariously
enjoy the tensions of the characters that the film portrays, and I
will take that over cheap jumpscares any day. If you’ve not seen A
Dark Song, it’s one to keep an eye open for.
I
don’t like Christmas. It’s true. Rather than dwell on that
though, I will dwell on what I do like, another Cryo Chamber
collaboration honouring the master of the eldritch, one H.P
Lovecraft. And it is out this December, which is the perfect antidote
to all the dross about that fat red guy jumping down chimneys. This
collaboration is named Shub-Niggurath, after a tentacled dark
god with universal appeal to the peoples of Lovecraft’s shadowy
worlds.
Album
Blurb:A 2 hour dark soundscape album recorded by 20 ambient
artists to pay tribute toH.P. Lovecraft. Dark sounds from
dreamy dimensions to never ending cursed forests. Join us in the
ritual of lust for the Black Goat of the Woods.
Shub-Niggurath
is an Outer God (or Outer Goddess) in the pantheon. She is a perverse
fertility deity. An enormous mass which extrudes black tentacles,
slime-dripping mouths, and short, writhing goat legs. Small creatures
are continually spat forth by the monstrosity, which are either
consumed into the miasmatic form or escape to some monstrous life
elsewhere.
Of all the mythos deities, Shub-Niggurath is
probably the most extensively worshipped. Her worshippers include the
Hyperboreans, the Muvians, T'yog of K'naa, and the people of Sarnath,
as well as any number of druidic and barbaric cults. She is also
worshipped by the non-human species of the mythos, such as the "Fungi
from Yuggoth" (the Mi-Go) and the Nug-Soth of Yaddith. With the
proper occult paraphernalia, Shub-Niggurath can be summoned to any
woodlands at the time of the new moon.
As
with previous collaborations, Shub-Niggurath comes as a couple
of hour-long tracks, in which the various artists get to flex their
aural muscles and stamp their own brand of murk onto things. A little
like a Lovecraftian pass the parcel, except with something you’d
actually want to have at the end of things, rather than a chocolate
coin or plastic comb. As it’s two long tracks, I will keep my
comments quite general, but still relate the things that grabbed me.
The
album opens with the taut beat of a drum, first singular beats, but
ramping up into a more ritual-like rhythm a little later. It doesn’t
take long for one of the things I most like about the album to emerge
after this: the sound of eerie flute/pipe notes. Maybe I am overly
enraptured with the concept of the mad god Azathoth, his throne of
chaos, and the “thin flutes piping mindlessly”, but I find that
kind of sound far more sinister and sacrilegious than a lot of other
sounds. These flute-based sounds appear quite often on
Shub-Niggurath, and each time they do, I smile. The other
element that occurs at quite regular intervals are discordant
string-based notes. These bow and scythe their way through the
soundscape, any other flavour sounds bolstered by their allusions to
things being “not right” and madness.
As
far as specific impressions, my absolute favourite occurs during
track two, around 12 minutes in. The soundscape hushes and falls
relatively quiet. A wheezing, breath-like sound insinuates itself,
and before you know it, you feel surrounded by gurgling sighing
things, glugging their way out of the murk. To me, this was the audio
equivalent of being at a lakeside, looking away, looking back, and
seeing strange creatures’ heads surfacing in the still water. There
are a number of moments on Shub-Niggurath that conjure this
swampy, humid feeling, of the trees being too close, the ground too
moist and the movement at the edge of your eyes being too unsettling.
Of course, I liked this a great deal.
Another
compelling moment for me, occurred on track one, about 43 minutes in.
The sound of chimes and rain soothes, but there is soon a deep
whooshing rumbling rhythm that mingles with dripping water. It kind
of made me think about what a twisted Ent (of LOTR fame) might sound
like, crumping through the landscape. It isn’t too long after this
that you hear strange vocalizations, and what sounds like a
heartbeat, mixed with curious creature calls. Eerie and magnificent.
There are also ample opportunities to hear the sounds of scurrying,
wet, chitinous things scrambling through the various soundscapes, so I hope
you enjoy creepy crawlies.
Shub-Niggurath
is a fitting tribute to another of H.P Lovecraft’s dark gods.
The soundscapes created by the various artists all dance around this
theme, some are dark, some are so murky even the vision of a Great
Old One might struggle to pick out any light. What they all are
though, are a remarkable journey into ominous valleys of thought and
superstition. The long running-time only aids this feeling, and
listening to the whole thing in one long session (if you have the
time), leaves the listener feeling like they have travelled much
further than the distance their eyelids might have closed. I’ve
listened to it a number of times, but I’m sure it will take many
more listens to fully take in what is going on. As far as I can tell
though, Shub-Niggurath is a fine addition to any dark ambient
fan’s collection.
Check out the
Shub-Niggurath page on Bandcamp at this link. You can also listen to track one below:
I was given a copy
of this album for review purposes.
Album Title:
Shub-Niggurath
Artists: Cryo
Chamber Collaboration: Atrium Carceri, God Body Disconnect, Dronny
Darko, ProtoU, Kolhoosi 13, Neizvestija, Northumbria, Apocryphos,
Randal Collier-Ford, Dead Melodies, Flowers for Bodysnatchers, Ager
Sonus, Council of Nine, Kammarheit, Gydja, Creation VI, Darkrad,
Aegri Somnia, Ugasanie, SiJ, Alphaxone, Keosz. Label: Cryo
Chamber
I like entertainment that makes use of alternative history, especially when it is used in film. Luther Bhogal-Jones has just released a scene-setter for his upcoming horror short Goodnight, Halloween, a film set in an alternate Detroit in the year 1986.
The world of the film has seen Halloween creatures co-exist with mankind for as along as anyone can remember. But wouldn't you know it, that balance has changed, as a right-wing religious group, KRONA, has pushed the Kreatures Act through the senate, making it legal to kill all creatures on sight. What upset this balance? Only the release of the full film will tell, but I'd bet money on the stupidity of humanity being involved.
I've always half facetiously described Goodnight, Halloween as a mixture of Clive Barker's Nightbreed and The Diary Of Anne Frank - a combination which should hopefully pique some interest in the finished film! - Luther Bhogal-Jones - Writer/Director
The scene-setter is embedded below, and takes the form of a news report delivering footage of a raid, and also the idealism of the head of KRONA, complete with a rippling American flag, with crosses instead of stars... Yup, that sets a pretty interesting scene. One of the idiosyncrasies of the world in which Goodnight, Halloween is set, is that the letter C doesn't exist. Any strange spellings you notice in the video are due to this.
Due to various delays, Goodnight, Halloween has been in production for a long time now, the scene-setter itself shot 12 years ago, and released now as it's positioning in the film became a little problematic in relation to pacing and other issues. I think this is very sensible, and a great way to wet the appetite of the viewers for the finished film, which is due for release soon, all being well.
You can find my thoughts about Luther's previous films Creak and Blackspot by clicking their names.
