
The Restoration of Grayson Manor

Glenn McQuaid brings us into the colorful (in every sense) world of legacy, sex, and monstrous overtone. Welcome to The Restoration of Grayson Manor, and all its double entendres for dysfunction, identity, and frivolity.
Matriarch Jacqueline’s obsession with son Boyd producing an heir comes with debasing strings attached, but disguised as a favor. Jacqueline poo-poos Boyd’s career as a pianist, which further strains their already thin bond with her disapproval of his sexuality. Following a one-night stand on the grounds, and an “oops, I forgot to change out of your nightie” to rub it in mummy’s face, a freak accident in which Boyd saves his mother from death ultimately severs Boyd’s hands at the wrists.
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To motivate Boyd to keep living, Jacqueline claims to bring in a world-renowned team of doctors and therapists, creating him a one-of-a-kind set of bionic hands. As Boyd slowly lets his guard down with nurse Lee, his connection with the bionic hands grows stronger. Boyd’s emotions begin to control the hands, but their actions play out his deepest, most vengeful desires.
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Gabriela Garcia Vargas plays Boyd’s therapist. Her unresolved trauma, triggered by drugs, creates another dramatic, over-the-top addition to this already wacky screenplay. Daniel Adegboyega is a treat, delivering a presence that wavers between Dr. Frankenstein and a sexy lap dog. Declan Reynolds is genuinely charming. I loved every single second of him. Reynolds is the only grounded character in the entire film. Alice Krige is a genre legend. If you haven’t seen her in She Will, how dare you. Chris Colfer is a snarky bitch, in the best way possible. Krige and Colfer have delicious chemistry. I could watch them ping-pong insults all day long.
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The film is the epitome of queer camp. The dialogue, by McQuaid and co-writer Clay McLeod Chapman, is searing vitriol. The costumes are vibrant; the production design mixes a crumbling mansion with light-saturated medical tech. The pace dips at points, but if you’re choosing a film like this, you’re not there for some profound life revelation. The script gets weirder and weirder, with all the kooky kills a genre fan could desire. The film has a perfect ending once you understand the bitchy mother-son dynamic. A touch of Misery, Edward Scissorhands, and every John Waters film ever made, The Restoration of Grayson Manor is ultimately a campy romp, and we, the audience, are just along for the ride. McQuaid never apologizes for style, nor should he have to. The queer camp horror catalogue has a new member. Act accordingly.
*What do you mean you’re dressing up as the bionic hands from The Restoration of Grayson Manor for gay Halloween?*
directed by: Glenn McQuaid
written by: Clay McLeod Chapman & Glenn McQuaid
starring: Chris Colfer, Alice Krige, Daniel Adegboyega, Declan Reynolds, Gabriela Garcia Vargas, Matthew McMahon, Issac Cairns, Dave Byrne
produced by: Brendan McCarthy, Deirdre Levins, Thomas Herberth, Florian Brüning, John McDonnell
runtime: 90 Minutes
language: English
country: Ireland



The jury is exceptional as they move through measured recall to furious shouting matches. Their diligence in tracking down evidence and looking at all sides gives me hope that jurors take their duties seriously. Jack Thornton’s editing is a feat. The choice to keep Krieps in the frame for longer than seems normal has a chilling effect. RE-CREATION is akin to live theatre. It is an improvisation session strapped to a ticking time bomb. The audience is the 13th jury member. Sheridan provides newsreel footage, newspaper clippings, video testimony, and audio recordings at the precise times we might feel lost. It is a real-time exploration of possibilities.
Jim Sheridan also plays Juror #1, serving as a guide and sounding board. Sheridan’s attention to detail is award-worthy. Going as far as to take the jury on a tour of the key locations in the investigation. It’s hard to discern where Sheridan lies on the guilty spectrum personally. His extensive knowledge never feels coercive. He and Merriman skillfully make a case for confusion and conflict, mirroring the state of the evidence.







THE DAMNED
Young widow Eva endures a particularly harsh winter on an Icelandic fishing island. After the small population witnesses a shipwreck off their coast, Eva discovers a barrel of rations that have washed up on the beach. In desperation, our hungry villagers row their dingy through the icy waters in search of any further rations. Instead, they come upon a shocking number of survivors that swarm the boat. The fallout proves terrifying. Welcome to THE DAMNED.
The chill of the environment flows through the screen. You cannot help but shiver and feel the inherent dread. THE DAMNED initially drips with melancholy but quickly navigates into total fear. Screenwriter Jamie Hannigan gives us a surprising feminist dynamic with Eva having the final say in the men’s actions. The narrative beautifully balances lore and madness.
Odessa Young is captivating. As the horror progresses, so does her appearance. The sleepless nights and ceaseless tragedy take their toll physically. Young effortlessly commands your attention at every turn. What a star.
The cinematography swings from bleak, overcast skies to the darkest of nights, lit only by lanterns. The stark visual contrast provides a subconscious isolation. Practical FX are meticulous and brutal. THE DAMNED is a highly effective psychological horror, delving into fisherman’s superstitions, survival instincts, and guilt—a must-watch in the new year.
Distributed By: Vertical
On the eve of their parents revealing a planned separation, a brilliant boy and his two older siblings use an enchanted grandfather clock to manipulate time and get them back together. Director Christian Ditter has audiences reconnect with his latest film, THE PRESENT. This lovely film, filled with silliness and life lessons, is a must for the holiday weekend.



ALL YOU NEED IS DEATH
The script builds a vibrating anticipation. The audience has little information. Filmmaker Paul Duane slowly reveals our protagonists’ what, but the why remains a mystery. Based on dark Irish lore passed down through the maternal lineage and some ancient cursed story, the song drips with agony, even if the audience cannot initially understand a single word. All parties are consumed by its power the moment it is heard.
Only one character appears to coherently recall the film’s secretive canon, but only to a point. Rita’s son reveals the unspoken, generational seriousness of their circumstances. The drastic measures he takes to protect the legend are shocking. He must find Anna and her cohorts.
Quick visual and dialogue genre homages pop up from time to time. Horror fans will find a sly smirk spread across their lips while intently trying to figure out what the hell is going on. Cast members Simone Collins, Charlie Maher, Catherine Wiggins, and Nigel O’Neill are captivating. One performance in particular, while short-lived, is mesmerizing. 

Lila Schmitz brings audiences the magic of West Ireland through the melodies of the locals and the emotional pull of a tune. THE JOB OF SONGS is a toe-tapping, viscerally joyous film. 

Paul Reiser, who also writes the screenplay with Wally Marzano-Lesnevich, plays Barry. A real estate mogul from NYC, he receives a call from his distant cousin in Ireland, requesting his presence to heal a wound from generations past. The caller is Ciáran, played by Colm Meaney. The two proud, established men momentarily connect for the sake of their family. When Barry finds himself inheriting half of the family land, shenanigans ensue, dividing this small town between old and new ways.
This breezy film is perfect for the festival circuit. Jane Levy grounds the film as Barry’s daughter. While 95% of her appearances occur as phone calls from NYC, her brightness keeps Barry grounded for the viewer. Reiser is as great as ever. His big-city energy is a delicious foil for Meaney’s homegrown pride. Ciáran wavers between forgiveness and fight, and Meaney is a pro.
The landscape of the film is breathtaking. The sets are inviting. The script is heartwarming and silly. Frankly, THE PROBLEM WITH PEOPLE is a film we all need right about now. While it doesn’t break the mold, it makes you smile from beginning to end. I would easily watch a sequel of these two men navigating whatever comes next.

Colm Meaney is the abusive Daddy Whelan, heading up the unsavory local family fixing the cottage. Proud and fiery, he is just as volatile as his children. Jaime-Lee O’Donnell and Chris Walley make the aggressive audience relentlessly uncomfortable with their behavior and nationalist words. Kristian Nairn plays Eoin, the quiet, clearly complicated, deemed “simple” son of the Whelan crew. Nairn gives a brilliant performance, more complex than at first glance.
Douglas Booth wears his emotions on his sleeve as Jaime. He is charming and kind but channels his unresolved trauma into simmering anger and anxiety. Hannah John-Kamen is enchanting and vulnerable. She owns the screen in her self-assured presence. Her chemistry with Booth and the rest of the cast keeps you watching.
The script is a dark adult version of a Grimm’s fairytale. Costumes are as colorful as the scenery is lush. Gorgeous drone shots down windy roads are breathtaking. The score creeps up on you. The first appearance of the elusive creatures is reminiscent of 80s Jim Henson; think Hoggle and the goblins from Labyrinth. They are awesome in the truest sense of the word. As a person who has been pregnant twice, the violence in the film is visceral. The commitment from the cast is applause-worthy. As the impressive practical effects get more intense, so do their performances. You will find yourself wincing and giggling simultaneously. Yes, it is over the top. And yes, the ending is a real WTF. Just go with it and have fun because in UNWELCOME, keeping the tradition alive keeps you alive.

This endearing later-stage love story is as lovely as can be. Annie and Howard’s earnest chemistry come to life with the extraordinary performances by James Cosmo and Bríd Brennan. Beautifully paced histories of their former selves lend to its authenticity. So much of the script occurs in things unsaid.

The layers of complexity in this script are unfathomable. A small town brimming with secrets pushes Hamish past his already frazzled limits, physically and mentally. In an attempt to figure out why his late mother left her hometown years ago, Hamish finds himself wrapped up in the local drama. As he navigates through the town landscape, quite literally at times, he faces more personal uncertainty than he could have ever anticipated.

With generational tensions you can cut with a knife, the power struggle screams off the screen. The script is carefully curated, with Irish pagan history weaved into the narrative. The tug of war between protection and control makes for a thoroughly engrossing watch. Do not get comfortable with this script. You are in for some gruesome twists. The sound editing creates another layer of fright. Brimming with scary good performances, it is the turn from Carolyn Bracken that will chill you to your core.
Most people probably don’t even know about Irish surfacing culture, but perhaps that is exactly the point. In “Keep in Secret”, founding members of the Irish surfing community share a treasured history of bringing the ocean sport born and developed on the sunny shores of Hawai’i to the chilly white-tipped waters of the Irish coastline. A fascinating exploration into what was once just a curiosity sparked from 1960’s travel magazines, Irish surf culture grew into a close-knit community a continent and an ocean away. To fully enjoy sports like this, one must be fully-equipped with items such as
Anchored by charming first-person narratives from a crew you’ll wish you could keep up with, “Keep it Secret” is a total gem. Their tales of surf safaris around the Irish coastline are scrappy and steeped in the complex history of the 20th century. They crafted their first boards by hand and surfed the icy waters without wetsuits bolstered by a sense of exploration, camaraderie, and good Irish whiskey. 




There is a beautiful dichotomy in the fact that she is being terrorized and is financially empowered by her captor. But the abuse is not limited to him. She is verbally assaulted and disrespected where she goes. The assumptions made by everyone in her path are insulting and cruel. As a woman, this film is excruciating to watch. This is a complete complement to the authenticity of the judgment and misogyny (not just from men) that we deal with on a daily basis.
PILGRIMAGE features an all star cast of Tom Holland (Spiderman: Homecoming, Captain America: Civil War), Jon Bernthal (Baby Driver, Marvel’s “The Punisher”), Richard Armitage (Capitan America: The First Avenger, The Hobbit) and was directed by Brendan Muldowney (Love Eternal, Savage).
Religion, faith, mysticism, belief; all of these things have caused heartbreak, wars, saving grace, and death. In Pilgrimage, Tom Holland plays a young monk who is essentially forced to protect and carry a relic to Rome. Alongside his mysterious protector, played by John Bernthal, he and an eclectic crew of soldiers and men of faith must battle hidden agendas and a higher power to achieve their mission. Perhaps the most stunning aspect of the film, besides the fact that each actor must deliver lines in at least 2 languages, is the fact that Bernthal’s character has zero dialogue. He is able to pull off a fully fleshed out character whose background leads to many questions along the way. The fight sequences are nothing less than brutal, so be prepared. That being said, they are pretty awesome to witness.The chemistry between the cast is palpable. Holland certainly holds his own among some seasoned players. His vulnerability on screen grounds the film. Overall, Pilgrimage has a Lord of the Rings meets Willow kind of vibe with a thought-provoking final scene. You can catch the film in theaters today, as well as on VOD and Digital HD.


My Name is Emily is a stunning coming of age film. Evanna Lynch shines in this complex role of a sad and brilliant young lady. The layers of this character come from the outstanding script from writer/director Fitzmaurice. Infusing philosophy, literature, poetry, loss and teenaged angst all intertwined into a story of finding oneself through letting go and letting people in. Michael Smiley is as wonderful as he’s ever been, touching the cornerstone of every possible emotion. George Webster, in particular, is one hell of a find. His natural ability to draw you in is reminiscent of the late Anton Yelchin. He will seduce you with his awkwardness and charm the pants off you all in the same scene. The honest chemistry between Lynch and Webster makes this film what it is. Another high note (pun not intended) is the glorious soundtrack. Each song evokes a familiarity that seems to fit perfectly into the moment. With a cool mix of voiceover moments and flashbacks, My Name is Emily is a true delight.






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