On a last-minute whim after a weekend of chemistry and America's Next Top Model, Zara and I decided to catch a horror double-bill. It was a classic Sunday-night movies-and-popcorn affair, and all the more fun for it.
An American Haunting was elegantly crafted and an excellent rendition of an oft-told story, but fell a bit flat for being predictable as a result.
Silent Hill, however, blew us both away. It was alternately creepy then chilling, eerie then frightening, plot then action, and it had more genuinely hellish scenes than almost any other movie I could care to mention since
Event Horizon, which it resembled closely at times. Radha Mitchell was superb, every bit as good as she was in
Pitch Black, and Jodelle Ferland put her wan orphan face to perfect use, outclassing her appearance in
Kingdom Hospital, which was excellent to begin with. The effects were spot-on, the soundtrack matched the visuals perfectly, and the whole effect was to leave you physically breathless at times, completely swept away by the events on screen. For only the second time ever - the first being
Donnie Darko - I walked out of a movie wanting to sweep straght into the nearest HMV and buy it. I'll certainly be watching it again at least once while it's still showing larger-than-life.
Don't let the veneer of respectability and representation fool you. The BNP is as much about racism and white supremacy as ever. They dress it up in clothes of anti-immigration and equal rights, but the campaign literature fouling our letter boxes and streetlights focuses on one thing only - the coloured menace!