S1rr34l
Joined Aug 2016
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Ratings4.8K
S1rr34l's rating
Reviews992
S1rr34l's rating
Rating Breakdown
Story - 1.25 :: Direction - 1.25 :: Pacing - 1.00 :: Performances - 1.00 :: Entertainment - 1.00
TOTAL - 5.50/10
If you have ever wondered what might happen if a group of backstabbing schemers found themselves trapped on a remote island, then "Fog Island" has your answer. Marketed as a horror film but more accurately a brooding revenge thriller, it blends the eerie isolation of an Agatha Christie mystery with the grim inevitability of a Shakespearean tragedy, only with more knives and fewer soliloquies.
The plot is elegantly simple and wickedly effective. A man, wrongfully imprisoned thanks to his so-called friends' silence, invites them to his secluded island home for what might be the most passive-aggressive reunion in cinema history. The atmosphere is drenched in foreboding, with a storm brewing both outside and within, making it abundantly clear that not everyone will be leaving alive.
Visually, the film makes masterful use of its setting, wrapping its characters in mist and shadow, where every flickering light and encroaching darkness threatens danger. The cinematography is striking for its time, employing deep blacks and natural lighting to build an eerie sense of entrapment.
Pacing, however, is where "Fog Island" sometimes stumbles. The film unfolds at a deliberate, almost unyielding rhythm, perfect for building dread, but occasionally frustrating when you wish for a jolt of energy. Some moments demand to linger, others beg for urgency, yet the film remains locked in its measured tempo.
Performances range from captivating to delightfully overcooked. The wronged host smoulders with vengeful intent, while his former friends unravel under the weight of their guilt. The love interest, however, delivers her lines with all the charm of a wooden plank, deflating tension at the most inconvenient moments.
Despite these minor gripes, "Fog Island" is an atmospheric thriller that leans into its eerie, claustrophobic setting and revels in its own brooding menace. It may not revolutionize the revenge genre, but it delivers exactly what it promises; shadowy intrigue and inevitable comeuppance. Worth a watch, just be wary of remote island invitations. Some doors, once entered, are better left unopened.
Story - 1.25 :: Direction - 1.25 :: Pacing - 1.00 :: Performances - 1.00 :: Entertainment - 1.00
TOTAL - 5.50/10
If you have ever wondered what might happen if a group of backstabbing schemers found themselves trapped on a remote island, then "Fog Island" has your answer. Marketed as a horror film but more accurately a brooding revenge thriller, it blends the eerie isolation of an Agatha Christie mystery with the grim inevitability of a Shakespearean tragedy, only with more knives and fewer soliloquies.
The plot is elegantly simple and wickedly effective. A man, wrongfully imprisoned thanks to his so-called friends' silence, invites them to his secluded island home for what might be the most passive-aggressive reunion in cinema history. The atmosphere is drenched in foreboding, with a storm brewing both outside and within, making it abundantly clear that not everyone will be leaving alive.
Visually, the film makes masterful use of its setting, wrapping its characters in mist and shadow, where every flickering light and encroaching darkness threatens danger. The cinematography is striking for its time, employing deep blacks and natural lighting to build an eerie sense of entrapment.
Pacing, however, is where "Fog Island" sometimes stumbles. The film unfolds at a deliberate, almost unyielding rhythm, perfect for building dread, but occasionally frustrating when you wish for a jolt of energy. Some moments demand to linger, others beg for urgency, yet the film remains locked in its measured tempo.
Performances range from captivating to delightfully overcooked. The wronged host smoulders with vengeful intent, while his former friends unravel under the weight of their guilt. The love interest, however, delivers her lines with all the charm of a wooden plank, deflating tension at the most inconvenient moments.
Despite these minor gripes, "Fog Island" is an atmospheric thriller that leans into its eerie, claustrophobic setting and revels in its own brooding menace. It may not revolutionize the revenge genre, but it delivers exactly what it promises; shadowy intrigue and inevitable comeuppance. Worth a watch, just be wary of remote island invitations. Some doors, once entered, are better left unopened.
Rating Breakdown
Story - 1.25 :: Direction - 1.25 :: Pacing - 1.25 :: Performances - 1.25 :: Entertainment - 1.25
TOTAL - 6.25/10
I have often found that the best horror movies operate much like a well-executed wrestling match. They build suspense, mislead, and taunt you with moments of hope before dropping you face-first into despair. "Dark Match" is exactly that sort of film, a supernatural wrestling action-horror fever dream that body-slams expectations and pile-drives logic straight through the mat.
I stumbled upon this little curiosity while scavenging through Shudder's horror catalogue, and it was a choice well-made. The premise is deceptively simple: a group of wrestlers sign up for an underground event, a so-called Dark Match, only to discover that the stakes involve more than championship belts and bruised egos. Instead, their very lives hang in the balance. But this is not just standard supernatural bloodsport. This film delights in leading you down a path, only to smack you with a steel chair of narrative subversion. Every time I thought I had its angle pinned, it wriggled free and took me in another, often stranger, direction.
The writing is sharp, teasing the audience with breadcrumbs of information, throwing in enough red herrings to keep the waters murky but never descending into incoherence. The pacing ensures that the mystery remains tantalising rather than frustrating, each revelation feeling more like a natural progression than a cheap trick.
A large part of the film's success lies in its direction. The wrestling sequences are executed with a verve that suggests someone behind the camera actually respects the sport. The fights are visceral, kinetic, and filmed with an energy that captures the unique ballet of brutality that makes wrestling such an enduring spectacle.
And then, when we move into the film's more dramatic moments, something odd happens. The direction, so vibrant in the ring, suddenly slackens. Scenes stretch longer than necessary, the camera loses its spark, and the momentum stutters. It is as though the director, having exerted themselves in crafting the action, decided to take a breather.
Visually, "Dark Match" leans heavily into shadows and suffocating red lighting. It mostly works, creating an ominous atmosphere, but there are times when it crosses into frustrating murkiness. When you start questioning your screen brightness, you know the crimson rabbit hole has gone too deep.
The acting was better than expected, due especially to Michael Eklund in a starring role. The cast throws themselves into their roles and the wrestling, elevating the experience. The Masked Wrestler, however, should have been a nimble high-flyer but instead moved with all the agility of a refrigerator being tipped over. And then there is Chris Jericho, once a titan of the squared circle, now reduced to a performance so wooden I half-expected termites to start nibbling at his edges.
Despite its occasional missteps, be it the drag in pacing, the overuse of red lighting, or the odd bit of lacklustre acting, "Dark Match" is a wildly enjoyable horror brawl. It is the kind of film that will likely earn a cult following, a homage to both wrestling and horror that understands the grand theatricality of both. I may not always rewatch horror films, but this one? I could see myself stepping into the ring for another round.
Story - 1.25 :: Direction - 1.25 :: Pacing - 1.25 :: Performances - 1.25 :: Entertainment - 1.25
TOTAL - 6.25/10
I have often found that the best horror movies operate much like a well-executed wrestling match. They build suspense, mislead, and taunt you with moments of hope before dropping you face-first into despair. "Dark Match" is exactly that sort of film, a supernatural wrestling action-horror fever dream that body-slams expectations and pile-drives logic straight through the mat.
I stumbled upon this little curiosity while scavenging through Shudder's horror catalogue, and it was a choice well-made. The premise is deceptively simple: a group of wrestlers sign up for an underground event, a so-called Dark Match, only to discover that the stakes involve more than championship belts and bruised egos. Instead, their very lives hang in the balance. But this is not just standard supernatural bloodsport. This film delights in leading you down a path, only to smack you with a steel chair of narrative subversion. Every time I thought I had its angle pinned, it wriggled free and took me in another, often stranger, direction.
The writing is sharp, teasing the audience with breadcrumbs of information, throwing in enough red herrings to keep the waters murky but never descending into incoherence. The pacing ensures that the mystery remains tantalising rather than frustrating, each revelation feeling more like a natural progression than a cheap trick.
A large part of the film's success lies in its direction. The wrestling sequences are executed with a verve that suggests someone behind the camera actually respects the sport. The fights are visceral, kinetic, and filmed with an energy that captures the unique ballet of brutality that makes wrestling such an enduring spectacle.
And then, when we move into the film's more dramatic moments, something odd happens. The direction, so vibrant in the ring, suddenly slackens. Scenes stretch longer than necessary, the camera loses its spark, and the momentum stutters. It is as though the director, having exerted themselves in crafting the action, decided to take a breather.
Visually, "Dark Match" leans heavily into shadows and suffocating red lighting. It mostly works, creating an ominous atmosphere, but there are times when it crosses into frustrating murkiness. When you start questioning your screen brightness, you know the crimson rabbit hole has gone too deep.
The acting was better than expected, due especially to Michael Eklund in a starring role. The cast throws themselves into their roles and the wrestling, elevating the experience. The Masked Wrestler, however, should have been a nimble high-flyer but instead moved with all the agility of a refrigerator being tipped over. And then there is Chris Jericho, once a titan of the squared circle, now reduced to a performance so wooden I half-expected termites to start nibbling at his edges.
Despite its occasional missteps, be it the drag in pacing, the overuse of red lighting, or the odd bit of lacklustre acting, "Dark Match" is a wildly enjoyable horror brawl. It is the kind of film that will likely earn a cult following, a homage to both wrestling and horror that understands the grand theatricality of both. I may not always rewatch horror films, but this one? I could see myself stepping into the ring for another round.
Rating Breakdown:
Story - 1.25 :: Direction - 1.00 :: Pacing - 1.25 :: Performances - 1.25 :: Entertainment - 1.00
TOTAL - 5.75/10
There are two kinds of people in this world: those who embrace Christmas with festive glee and those who see it as a season of lurking horror. "Advent, also known as The Krampus Calendar," firmly belongs in the latter category, wrapping itself in tinsel-draped terror. It is, in short, a Christmas horror film that tests your patience before rewarding you, like a stubborn festive cracker that refuses to snap.
Let me be clear: the first quarter-hour is a test of endurance. The pacing is sluggish, the setup is clumsy, and the cursed Advent Calendar, a supposed relic of eldritch terror, looks like a discount shop decoration hastily spray-painted black. It is, frankly, naff.
Yet, much like a horror protagonist who foolishly ignores ominous warnings, perseverance pays off. The story follows a vlogger of all things macabre and her sceptical sidekick as they uncover a legend about an ancient Krampus-themed Advent Calendar. Naturally, they come into possession of one, and our protagonist, as horror tradition dictates, begins opening its drawers. What starts as eerie inconvenience soon spirals into psychological torment as reality blurs and darkness descends.
While the film lacks polish, it makes up for it with atmosphere. The director, despite an amateur touch, excels in eerie lighting and creeping shadows. The slow-burn pacing, initially frustrating, eventually draws you into its unsettling world. By the time the calendar's grip tightens, the film drips with dread, and I found myself thoroughly absorbed despite my early scepticism.
The acting is the film's strongest asset. The lead delivers a convincing descent into madness, and the supporting cast adds authenticity to the documentary Vlog format. Only the calendar's original seller disappoints, his wooden performance rivalled only by the balsa wood of the cursed object itself. Fortunately, his role is mercifully brief.
Had "Advent" boasted a stronger start and a more refined directorial hand, it might have been a sleeper hit. As it stands, it is an intriguing but flawed entry, like a glass of eggnog; too thick at first but oddly satisfying once you settle in.
Should you watch "Advent" this Christmas? If you seek something to unnerve you between repeats of "The Snowman," you could do worse. Just keep the remote handy for the first stretch and endure the rough opening. After all, 'tis the season for giving second chances, even to flawed but entertaining slices of demonic yuletide horror.
There are two kinds of people in this world: those who embrace Christmas with festive glee and those who see it as a season of lurking horror. "Advent, also known as The Krampus Calendar," firmly belongs in the latter category, wrapping itself in tinsel-draped terror. It is, in short, a Christmas horror film that tests your patience before rewarding you, like a stubborn festive cracker that refuses to snap.
Let me be clear: the first quarter-hour is a test of endurance. The pacing is sluggish, the setup is clumsy, and the cursed Advent Calendar, a supposed relic of eldritch terror, looks like a discount shop decoration hastily spray-painted black. It is, frankly, naff.
Yet, much like a horror protagonist who foolishly ignores ominous warnings, perseverance pays off. The story follows a vlogger of all things macabre and her sceptical sidekick as they uncover a legend about an ancient Krampus-themed Advent Calendar. Naturally, they come into possession of one, and our protagonist, as horror tradition dictates, begins opening its drawers. What starts as eerie inconvenience soon spirals into psychological torment as reality blurs and darkness descends.
While the film lacks polish, it makes up for it with atmosphere. The director, despite an amateur touch, excels in eerie lighting and creeping shadows. The slow-burn pacing, initially frustrating, eventually draws you into its unsettling world. By the time the calendar's grip tightens, the film drips with dread, and I found myself thoroughly absorbed despite my early scepticism.
The acting is the film's strongest asset. The lead delivers a convincing descent into madness, and the supporting cast adds authenticity to the documentary Vlog format. Only the calendar's original seller disappoints, his wooden performance rivalled only by the balsa wood of the cursed object itself. Fortunately, his role is mercifully brief.
Had "Advent" boasted a stronger start and a more refined directorial hand, it might have been a sleeper hit. As it stands, it is an intriguing but flawed entry, like a glass of eggnog; too thick at first but oddly satisfying once you settle in.
Should you watch "Advent" this Christmas? If you seek something to unnerve you between repeats of "The Snowman," you could do worse. Just keep the remote handy for the first stretch and endure the rough opening. After all, 'tis the season for giving second chances, even to flawed but entertaining slices of demonic yuletide horror.