The idea that, in horror films, you can smuggle poor storytelling under the cloak of the night is silly, unless you are Dario Argento or Andrzej Zulawski (or recently, Under The Skin’s Jonathan Glazer). More nails are driven into the coffin when that darkened mood, that low-key lighting of the long night, those contrivances for sultry spook, don’t pay off with a few good scares. People go to the movies for three reasons, said The Exorcist director William Friedkin — “to laugh, to cry or to be frightened”. Without those, I add reluctantly, a cinema is a cemetery not worth visiting.
Ananda Everingham in a scene from Hong Hoon.
For all its promises, we’re not sufficiently spooked by Hong Hoon (Crack My Sin), the directorial debut of Kulp Kaljareuk. A retooling of a hit TV series of the 1970s and 1990s, the 2014 version is geared for suspense, with a remote house full of eerie wax figures as the centrepiece.
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