Leprechaun: Origins
It’s out with Warwick Davis and in with WWE wrestler, Dylan ‘Hornswoggle’ Postl, in this reboot/reimagining/retooling/retiling of the 90s slasher that spawned sequels no one really cares about. A group of crazy kids go on holiday to a part of Ireland that looks absolutely nothing Ireland. There they’re taken in by two walking stereotypes, who offer them an abandoned cottage to stay at. But saint and begorrah, it be infested with a creature that be after your lucky charms. Turning up the seriousness to 11, Leprechaun Origins has no limericks, no green hats and no fun.
Housebound
Kylie Bucknell (Morgana O’Reilly) is in a whole heap of trouble. Having been placed under house detention at her mother’s house, Kylie has to put with her mother’s constant questions, overaffection and, worse still, her conviction that her house is haunted. Initially dismissive, it’s only when Kylie begins to experience things that go bump in the night herself, that she starts to take the issue seriously and delves into the house’s terrible past. Despite the film running longer than the storyline can justify, Housebound is a fairly successful black comedy with some real chilling moments. Fans of early Peter Jackson are in for a treat.
Deliver Us From Evil
We’re in New York and police officer Ralph Sarchie (Eric Bana) is investigating a series of crimes, when he inexplicably joins forces with a… sigh… priest. Cue lots of possessions, jump scares and Joel McHale wearing his hat backwards. This is a travesty in terms of horror, failing to add anything original to the genre. Should you see this in your partner’s Netflix queue, break up with them immediately. Seriously. There is no punchline. Clearly they are thinking about watching this with, which shows a distinct lack of love for you. I’m sorry, but it’s time to go meet someone else. You will get through this, I promise.
Early Bird Film Society 