Movie Oubliette

In this Patrons' choice episode, we're exposing ourselves to Cure (1997) – the film that announced Kiyoshi Kurosawa as one of the most unsettling voices in modern horror. Set in Tokyo at the tail end of Japan's "lost decade", it follows weary detective Takabe (Kōji Yakusho) as he investigates a string of seemingly connected string of murders... with apparently different perpetrators. Victims keep turning up with the same grotesque X carved into their necks, and the killers – usually found standing nearby in a daze –have absolutely no idea why they did it. Just when things seem bleak enough, Takabe encounters a mysterious drifter, Mamiya (Masato Hagiwara) – a soft-spoken young man who asks everyone the same simple question: Who are you? Should this early progenitor of the "J-horror" phenomenon be released from the oubliette… or would it be safer if we all forgot we ever saw it? Find out!Support us on Patreon to nominate films for us to cover, access exclusive bonus content, and vote on the final verdict!Rate and review us on your podcast platform of choice, and tell a friend about us.Follow us on TikTok, YouTube, Instagram and Bluesky. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Released in 1990, Hardware is the abrasive feature debut of cult filmmaker Richard Stanley. Starring Stacey Travis as sculptor Jill and Dylan McDermott as desert drifter Mo, the film begins with a romantic gesture that – through the entirely avoidable gift of salvaged military hardware – turns into a claustrophobic battle with a self-repairing government robot determined to follow its programming to the letter. Emerging at the tail end of the VHS-era cyberpunk boom and somewhere in the industrial-grime lineage between The Terminator and Mad Max 2, Stanley’s film quickly carved out a reputation as a cult object: equal parts grimy dystopian satire and mechanical slasher movie. But is this often hard-to-find rusty curio a gem that deserves to be given pride of place in your lounge, or is it best left in the desert? Find out!Support us on Patreon to nominate films for us to cover, access exclusive bonus content, and vote on the final verdict!Rate and review us on your podcast platform of choice, and tell a friend about us.Follow us on TikTok, YouTube, Instagram and Bluesky. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

By popular demand, we're celebrating the release of Maggie Gyllenhaal's The Bride! by taking a look back at Franc Roddam's The Bride (1985). This mid-80s take on Mary Shelley’s mythic creation project tellingly got the budget of a period romance, but likely only because it had a new romantic pop star in the lead role and the production design of an Adam Ant music video. The result is a Gothic fable where baroque laboratories collide with heartfelt journeys toward independence. The monster – dubbed Viktor by his diminutive travelling companion, Rinaldo (David Rappaport) – is played by Clancy Brown, presumably because he strayed from casting sessions for Highlander.Flashdance's Jennifer Beals’ Eva reinvents the notion of “the bride”: she’s bright, terrified of cats, and slightly too lucid for a world full of overlong candlelit discussions about autonomy and creation. Sting’s Baron Frankenstein embodies euro-aristocratic obsession with a bemused smirk, and spends most of his time leaning on something while holding a book.Should this experiment in misunderstood Gothic romance finally earn its freedom? Or is it a well-dressed atrocity that should be hurled off the nearest tower? Find out!Support us on Patreon to nominate films for us to cover, access exclusive bonus content, and vote on the final verdict!Rate and review us on your podcast platform of choice, and tell a friend about us.Follow us on TikTok, YouTube, Instagram and Bluesky. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.