
The Void movie review: retro monsters, alien mystery
It’s Lovecraft by way of The Thing and Alien in this satisfyingly schlocky 80s throwback, complete with practical FX. A genuinely eerie experience.
It’s Lovecraft by way of The Thing and Alien in this satisfyingly schlocky 80s throwback, complete with practical FX. A genuinely eerie experience.
Trite characters, very well-worn clichés of SF cinema, and a mystery that is completely transparent. All about production design, and even that is familiar.
Toilet humor, cars exploding for no reason, random naked boobies, and gay panic… although, weirdly, also lots of awkward, unerotic nearly naked Dax Shepard.
Muddy and muddled 70s-style backwoods gothic Americana only comes to life when it rises to the accidentally silly. Little more than an incoherent showreel.
Not alt-history but a true story from a Nazi-occupied English-speaking place, a hugely relevant reminder that resistance to injustice is an absolute imperative.
The sparse, cold satisfaction that could be wrung from Trainspotting’s punk insolence has been replaced by an exhausted cynicism. Which is exactly right.
Tepid teen romance turned implausible thriller is just about saved by a powerful, and unusually disturbing, performance from Bill Paxton (one of his last).
Strange and melancholy, this genre-defying portrait of grief and loneliness puts Kristen Stewart’s onscreen persona of restive reluctance to very effective use.
Someone is very trusting…
Shattering and deep-down bone-chilling. A viciously unsettling nightmare of race and privilege that carves out a much-needed paradigm shift for genre film.