2025 films of the year

It has been a bit of a year for me, and I haven't had the opportunity to see nearly as many new films as I'd have liked, let alone write up the ones I have seen. I've decided to run down through my top ten for the year, but there are plenty more films to catch that could shift the line-up, especially given the number of high-profile and acclaimed releases in late November and December. I may revisit this in another twelve months and see if it's changed. I'm going to appraoch these in order of lowest to highest rated, according to my own flawed opinions.

Honorable mention: Nosferatu (Robert Eggers)

Strictly speaking, Nosferatu is a 2024 film, but as it went on general release with only a week left of 2024, most of its run was in '25. A bleak and beautiful film, this updates the original Symphony of Horror into a vampiric epic. Lily-Rose Depp gives the star performance of a powerful cast, in a truly haunting production that's exquisitely realised. It loses momentum halfway and runs too long, and it's not nearly as strange as either the original or Eggers's best work, but it's still an exceptional film. If it had come out a week later it'd have sat at number three on this list. Full review here.

10) The Running Man (Edgar Wright)

I'm pretty sure this one wouldn't have made it into the top ten if I'd caught more films this year. This isn't a great film, but it is an entertaining one. The second film of the year based on a Stephen King novel with a title based on perambulation, The Running Man is the least stylish of all Wright's films, but still way more stylish than most action movies. The general consensus is that Glen Powell is miscast as the lead, and that's probably fair, but he's watchable enough to carry the adventure. There are occasional glimpses of Wright's unique style, and it's sure as hell better than the shitty 80s version starring Arnie. The film has a strong message against corporate greed and the rich's exploitation of the poor, but it's hard to swallow in a film that cost $110 million where the catering budget doubtless cost more than most people's annual salary.

9) Predator: Badlands (Dan Trachtenberg)

Amazingly, the second Predator film from Trachtenberg this year. Killer of Killers was better than I expected, but it was Badlands that I really enjoyed. We've had the popcorn movie approach with Predator before, with varying results, but Trachtenberg really has nailed three different takes on the concept in short order. This is Predator as a full-on comicbook-style action movie, with legions of CGI monsters. This should be crap, but it tremendously entertaining and surprisingly heartwarming film. Showing the film from the Predator's point of view was a bold move, but making him such a likeable goof makes the film. It's hard to say how much of Dimitrius Schuster-Koloamatangi's performance actually makes it through the CGI, but let's give him the benefit. Elle Fanning's the star, though, as both Weyland-Yutani androids Thea and Tessa. Tying the film so heavily to the Alien series without actually including the monster works brilliantly, as well.

8) Wake Up Dead Man (Rian Johnson)

The third film in the Knives Out/Benoit Blanc series is not, sadly, the hoped for Muppet version, but a stylish and highly personal crime story from Johnson. Although he was raised as an Evangelical Protestant, he chose Catholicism for its potent imagery. It's just as appallingly hypocrytical an institution, after all. There's a potent story here about the conflict between the comfort that faith brings and the damage done by indoctrination, with excellent performances from Josh O'Connor, Josh Brolin, Glenn Close and, of course, Daniel Craig. The rest of the cast don't get the chance to show how good they are, sadly, and the actual mystery at the heart of the story isn't original or confounding enough to live up to the rest of it. Compels me, though.

7) 28 Years Later (Danny Boyle)

The follow-up that 28 Days Later deserved, with Boyle returning to the post-apocalyptic Britain he created, (frustratingly only 22 years later). The exploration of how society has adapted to a world infected by the Rage, both the isolated community on Lindisfarne, and to a lesser extent, the rest of Europe on the other side of the quarantine line. I can't quite decide who gives the best performance: 14-year-old Alfie Williams as the courageous young Spike, who's never known any other world but this; or Jodie Comer as his dying, mentally-distressed mother Isla. Aaron Taylor-Johnson is also very good as dad Jamie, pushed to understandable extremes by the stresses of his life, as is the great Ralph Fiennes as the isolated Dr. Kelson. Also fascinating is gradual revelation that the infected remain, if not intelligent in a human sense, then clearly sentient, with the sport-like hunting of them even more disturbing as a result. Judging by the final scene, the second part, The Bone Temple, is going to be bizarre.

6) The Penguin Lessons (Peter Cattaneo)

Although this premiered in 2024, it didn't go on general release until '25, so it definitely belongs on this list. Based on the memoir of Tom Michell, this is the story of how he arrives to teach English in a school in Argentina, in the middle of the 1976 military junta. Steve Coogan is funny, sympathetic, and surprisingly hot as Michell, who ends up rescuing a penguin from an oil slick, in a desperate attempt to get laid on a break in Uruguay. Adopting the penguin - Juan Salvador - and smuggling him into the school, he is able to inspire his students and find some purpose, but the military's abuse of power soon comes out of the background and begins to impact him and those he has become close to. The comedy is gentle, but not the drama. Disturbingly more topical each day in its exploration of life under fascism, this is an undersung success.

5) Superman (James Gunn)

Gunn's relaunch of the Superman movie franchise and reboot of the DC Universe is quite unlike any Superman film that's come before, and yet is the most satisfying film for the character since Superman II over forty years ago. This doesn't feel much like a Superman film, but it does feel like a Superman comic, which makes a huge difference. Skipping the origin story is standard now, but this feels deep into its universe even as a first instalment. Clark is just one of many powerful beings working as heroes, yet stands apart from the metahumans, something that works far better than I would ever have thought. Having him and Lois already deeply in love and managing their relationship is another plus. Yes, this takes a few hints from the CW but in a vastly more cinematic way. Clark is the giant Boy Scout he always truly was, with David Corenswet giving a wonderful performance, while Rachel Brosnahan is actually perfect as Lois. Nicholas Hoult is remarkable as Lex Luthor, and a special shout-out goes to Edi Gathegi for stealing his every scene as Mr. Terrific. Amazingly, this film manages to both be a bold statement on today's genocide-steeped world, while still being a wholesome live-action cartoon featuring Krypto the Superdog.

4) Thunderbolts* (Jake Schreier)

The second of three MCU films out this year, and while Brave New World was better than I expected, and Fantastic Four: First Steps was decent if unremarkable, Thunderbolts* was a genuine surprise. I did not expect Marvel's answer to The Suicide Squad to be a powerful examination of depression and mental illness. Florence Pugh is the standout as Yelena Belova, dealing with the unbelievable trauma of death and resurrection as well as a truly horrific upbringing. While superhero films can get too serious for their own good sometimes dealing with trauma in a realistic way, in the right setting it works. It's an ensemble by its nature, but the other dominant performance is Lewis Pullman as Bob Reynolds, whose journey through mental illness is powerfully expressed through the allegory of his good and evil superhuman personae. It'll be interesting to see how Bob/Sentry will be used in the future, being essentially Marvel's deliberate Superman ripoff; based on Thunderbolts* alone, his character is one of the best things introduced to the MCU in a good while. 

3) Sinners (Ryan Coogler)

Vampire films are such well-trodden ground, it's incredibly refreshing when one as original and unique as Sinners appears. It's unsurprising that Coogler took some inspiration from From Dusk Till Dawn, but this is far and away the superior work in every way. The direction, music and visual effects are impeccable throughout, but what sets Sinners apart from so many vamp-fests is that it's actually about something. The indelibly racist history of America, the ongoing abuse of Black people and other minorities in the West, the cultural and binding power of music, the strengths and weaknesses of Christian belief, the kinship between Black and Irish... this is a dense film worthy of serious analysis. Michael B. Jordan is predictably excellent as gangster twins Smoke and Stack, with Hailee Steinfeld and Miles Caton (the latter, astonishingly, in his film debut) also giving powerful performances. The fact that half the costuming and period material was bought from Disney after Marvel stopped production on Blade is the icing on the cake. This is how you make a modern vampire film when you know what you're doing.

2) Frankenstein (Guillermo del Toro)

The film del Toro was surely born to make, the latest adaptation of Frankenstein blows so many others out of the water. While far from being a faithful interpretation, del Toro's script captures much of the spirit of Shelley's novel, with a strong focus on Frankenstein's selfishness and abandonment of his responsbilities. Oscar Isaac, one of today's great character actors, gives a riveting performance as Frankenstein, with able support from Mia Goth and Christoph Waltz. However, the real star of the film is Jacob Elordi as the Creature, giving a nuanced and powerful performance that is both deeply sympathetic and frequently terrifying. Del Toro remembers the oft-forgotten detail that the Creature was intended as a perfect example of human form, with the design and Elordi's performance elevating the monster to a thing of twisted beauty. Achingly sad in places and quite beautiful throughout, in its own gruesome way, this makes a perfect companion piece for Nosferatu as classic horror bookends for the year. It deserves a proper theatrical release, but at least having it on Netflix means plenty of people will watch it.

1) The Long Walk (Francis Lawrence)

In October I said this would be my film of the year, and I stand by it. I'll also likely never watch it again. The other Stephen King adaptation in this list, The Long Walk shares some notable themes with The Running Man, each story essentially being about the way the powerful exploit the masses through scraps of generosity, the promise of opportunity, and ever more twisted entertainment. It's a far more serious, brutal and emotionally honest story, though. Cooper Hoffman gives a strong lead performance as Ray, but it's David Jonsson, rapidly becoming my one of my favourite young actors, who is the heart of the film as Ray's friend Pete. A brutal production in both filming and presentation, The Long Walk is harrowing but a must-see. Full review here.

Hallowe'en at Television Heaven

It's spooky season, so it's time to review some classic chillers (because the rest of the year I don't watch monsters and ghosts and things, not at all).

Pop along to Television Heaven for new reviews on the ingenious horror spoof Garth Marenghi's Darkplace, the most terrifying part of which is that it's somehow now twenty years old; the Frankensteinian hammy horror of 1970s Doctor Who serial The Brain of Morbius; and, the Hammer movie Quatermass and the Pit (aka Five Million Years to Earth), featuring perhaps the very best version of the good Professor. 

Plus, Mark Turner-Box reviews the 1979 miniseries of Stephen King's Salem's Lot, while Malcolm Alexander examines the more recent horror series The Enfield Haunting.

Enjoy an array of Martians, monsters, vampires, ghosts, apemen and invasive broccoli.

WHO REVIEW: 12-8 - The Haunting of Villa Diodati

The two-part finale is going to have to be pretty special to top that. "Diodati" is an absolute cracker of an episode, starting off as a creepy yet fun haunted house story before segueing into a brilliant new variation on the Cyberman story that kicks the season's story arc into high gear.

Doctor Who hasn't done haunted house stories all that often. We had "The Unquiet Dead" in series one and "Hide" in series seven, and there were elements of the genre in "Blink," but that's only three episodes in fifteen years. Back in the day, we had 1989's Ghost Light and 1972's Day of the Daleks, which is perhaps the closest antecedent to "Diodati," with apparitions explained away as temporal anomalies, leading to a battle with a classic Who monster with humanity's future in the balance. Where "Diodati" stands out is in setting its story on a single specific evening from history, one that has gone down in legend and, indeed, contributed so much to the horror genre that it would be unrecognisable without it.

My favourite moment in the episode is when the Doctor argues for the value of Shelley's life, not on the usual basis that a human life is worth saving regardless, but that his cultural contribution is so great that allowing him to die early would cause irrevocable damage to human history. Indeed, the legendary night at Villa Diodati in 1816 made such a lasting impact to English literature that there has perhaps never been another single night more important to our literary culture. Not only did Mary Shelley devise Frankenstein on that night, essentially creating the modern science fiction genre in the process, but Dr. John Polidori wrote the first draft of The Vampyre, a landmark of horror fiction that would go on to inspire Bram Stoker in his writing of Dracula years later. The cumulative effect on literature and pop culture of this two works cannot be overstated. Polidori was inspired himself by Lord Byron's Fragment of a Novel and loosely based the vampyre of his tale on Byron, but as Polidori actually finished his story and had the greater impact on vampire fiction. In any case, I'm prouder about what I've written than what's been written about me, although Byron probably thought the opposite.

The casting is spot on for the historical cast, with Jacob Collins-Levy making a excellent Byron. The man was, after all, notoriously both arrogant and charming, and it would be very easy to overplay one or the other of those characteristics, but Collins-Levy balances it perfectly. Byron's constant hitting on "Mrs Doctor" is perfectly in character and one of the funnier elements of the story, continuing even as the situation turns into a living nightmare. After all, it would take more than the potential death of humanity to stop Byron flirting. (Loved the Doctor's namedrop of Ada, as well, surely the only time that a father and daughter have been met in reverse historical order - River doesn't count, because she cheated.)

Lili Miller is excellent as Mary, although I feel she doesn't get the amount of screentime she really deserves here. She has some nice moments with Ryan and a good rapport with the Doctor, but given her astonishing genius as a writer I'd have thought more would have been made of her contributions to history, especially given that she essentially created the genre in which the characters exist. (Indeed, having the erasure of Mary's work threaten the Doctor and companions' future would have made more sense in a metatextual way, as without Frankenstein, Doctor Who could not exist.) Instead, most of the accolades go to her husband-to-be, also brilliantly portrayed by Lewis Rainer. Nadia Parkes is strong as the often-overlooked Claire Clairmont, who tells Byron to shove it in the most satisfying moment of the story, but hats off to Maxim Baldry (previously of the fantastic Years and Years) as a perfectly off-his-nut turn as Polidori.

The early part of the episode looks like this is going to turn into a historical romp like the aforementioned "The Unquiet Dead," or the other, author-focused celebrity historicals "The Shakespeare Code" and "The Unicorn and the Wasp." Like those, there's a real focus on how "words matter," but the genre runaround is played straighter, with some genuine chills even as the characters joke with each other. Once the house closes in on them and it seems impossible to escape, there's a real sense of dread, but events are moving quickly and the mind races as to what's going to happen next.

The missus and I were throwing guesses at each other. I was convinced that the Villa was actually a TARDIS, given that its dimensions were folding in on themselves, while we both correctly guessed that the white shadow breaking into reality was a Cyberman (after briefly entertaining the idea that it might be the Kassavin from the season opener). We were briefly convinced that the Lone Cyberman was Shelley, which would have been rather cool but quite hard to square back with established history.

Having the Cybermen crash into the story an episode early is a great way of keeping things surprising even while we're forewarned as to their involvement in the finale. The Cybermen haven't been used for body horror nearly enough, in my opinion, with perhaps the best use being their last appearance, series ten's two-part finale that almost wrote out the Twelfth Doctor. We might have expected a more Franksteinian take on the Cybermen in this story, had we known they were cropping up, but as an unexpected villain, the Lone Cyberman is all the more effective. The use of lightning to recharge him is a bit of a cute joke, but it kind of had to be done, and it doesn't retract from the nightmarish conception of a broken, beaten Cyberman fighting on out of sheer anger and willpower. The script draws attention to how different this Cyberman is to the usual conception (if not always depiction) of the emotionless cyborg, and it works. This is an entirely new version of the classic monster, showing that it's still possible to find a fresh way to approach the oldest elements of the series. Patrick O'Kane is terrifying as this rage-fuelled monster, especially in the moments when his humanity is visible. Most powerful of all is the scene in which it appears Mary has gotten through to him through his once being a father, only to have him spit it back in her face in an astonishing display of bloodthirst and hate.

Not only is the Doctor rightfully outraged and terrified at having to face the Cybermen again - after all, they both killed her previous self and mutilated her last companion - she bears the enormous weight of responsibility for her role in the universe. If anyone's still waiting for Whittaker to get her "Doctor moment," then this is it, with the Doctor shutting down her companions as she balances future and past. Whittaker is brilliant in this scene, showing just how good she can be when given strong material.

While I'm sure, due to the strong links to the season arc, Chibnall must have advised heavily on the story, the script is credited only to Maxine Alderton, and she cements herself as one of the best writers on the series in years. This script manages a moment of focus for all the regulars, be it Ryan's uncomfortable pragmatism, Graham's incredulity and fear, or Yaz's sudden openness about her feelings for someone-who-I-think-we-all-know. The lack of focus on Mary's contributions to literature is a major flaw with the script, but this remains a strong episode and easily a contender for the best Thirteenth Doctor story so far.

Maketh the Woman: I love that the fam are dressing in appropriate period costume as a matter of course now, and they all look great in their 19th century get-up. But what does the Doctor do? Puts on a waistcoat over her T-shirt and puts her usual coat back on top.

The Shallow Bit: This episode is, naturally, is full of very gorgeous people, and I'm particularly taken with Maxim Baldry and Nadia Parkes. Can we please have a moment to recognise how stunning Mandip Gill looks in her period costume though?

Random Thoughts: Why does the Doctor suddenly decide to take her companions on a hasty trip to drop-in on the party at Villa Diodati? Such sudden urges to go see a specific people and places isn't out of character for the Doctor, but is there something else at work here? Did something influence her into making that decision, specifically so she would be in the right place when the Lone Cyberman manifested?

Continuity Corner: This episode was always going to be a tricky one to fit in with the larger Whoniverse. Big Finish have featured Mary Shelley heavily in the past, played by Julie Cox, in adventures with Paul McGann's Eighth Doctor. This started with a typical name drop by the Doctor in the first Eighth Doctor audio, 2001's Storm Warning, which eventually led to "Mary's Story," an installment of 2009's anthology release The Company of Friends. This rather brilliant story saw the Eighth Doctor arrive at Villa Diodati on that fateful 1816 evening, partly inspiring Frankenstein. She then goes travelling with him, appearing in a trilogy of releases in 2011, one of which, The Silver Turk, even features the Cybermen and further inspires Frankenstein. This obviously contradicts this episode, but fortunately, this entire adventure involves a diverted timeline, neatly explaining away any historical or fictional discontinuities.

However, in checking up some of the above details on the TARDIS wikia, I discovered that there was yet another instance of the Doctor inspiring Mary to write Frankenstein, in 2008. "The Creative Spark" was a short comic strip featuring the Tenth Doctor in the Battles in Time trading card magazine. Fortunately, very few people feel moved to include these comics as part of continuity, and even if you do, if we can cope with at least four explanations for Jack the Ripper and three utterly incompatible fates for Atlantis then we can cope with this.

REVIEW: Grandma Guignol

Bafflegab Productions have just finished an eight-epiosde run of their new podcast, Grandma Guignol. Well, it's not entirely new; the podcast is a new format for the audio series The Brenda and Effie Mysteries, written by Paul Magrs and based on his successful series of novels. As the series was criminally overlooked, Bafflegab have given it a new lease of life, and it is now available here on iTunes. You can download the episodes or get them up on your podcast app or however you like to listen to them.

If there was ever a series that deserved more recognition, it's this. The story of the Bride of Frankenstein, now running a B&B in sleepy seaside town (and goth capital) Whitby, and her best friend, the aged witch and antiques dealer Effie. The story of ancient mummies, the story elephantine descendants of the London Monster, the story of the dreaded Crispy Cat! All told with Magrs's signature wit and aplomb.

The series stars Anne Reid as both Brenda and Effie (Last Tango in Halifax, Upstairs Downstairs, Coronation Street, A Close Shave, and multiple roles in Doctor Who, including a vampire, meaning she need only play a werewolf to round out the classic movie monster trifecta). Telling the story from Brenda's point of view, it is initially focused on her new life in Whitby, but by the final episode drifts back along Brenda's long and varied life. She's had periods working as a maid to Magrs's C. S. Lewis counterpart Reg Tyler (from The Fellowship of the Ink and Doctor Who: Mad Dogs and Englishmen), a spell as the headline act in a freakshow (palling around with Joseph Merrick) and much more besides.

There are guest roles for the likes of Dan "Strax" Starkey, Chris Pavlo, Alex Lowe and Stephen Critchlow, but this is Reid's production. She gives a wistful performance as Brenda, losing herself in her memories and granting them just as much life as her nocturnal escapades with Effie. In spite of the bizarre Gothic goings on, the stories spend as much time on everyday concerns and idle gossip as they do on supernatural mysteries. Brenda never misses the opportunity to comment on the quality of her lunch or pass busybody judgment on Whitby's eccentric inhabitants.

Anyone who has dipped into Paul Magrs's world with his Iris Wildthyme or Phoenix Court novels, or his many Doctor Who stories, should definitely check out Brenda's adventures, and any fan of magic realism, cosy supernatural stories or old-fashioned adventures should give it a try. Halfway between Hammer Horror and Alan Bennett, you'll find Grandma Guignol. Hopefully it will be popular enough to warrant a second series.

Image copyright Paul Hanley

March Comics Round-Up: Other publishers

Really, just take it in.

And on with the non-Marvel titles. No DC this month, excepting Multiversity which isn't due out for a week so won't get picked up till April, most likely. While Marvel is preparing for Secret Wars, DC is about to enter the Convergance, which will have consequences including decent new costumes for Superman and Wonder Woman, and Batman dressing up like a robot bunny rabbit. I have, however, been watching a lot of DC lately. Maybe I just prefer Bats and Supes on the screen to on the page?

Instead I grabbed a bunch of occasional titles and tried some new ones, plus regular subs. A lot of TV and film tie-ins here, which is very much my thing, and consequentially means a lot of IDW. Also, Alan Moore's new Nemo book is out, so I grabbed that too.


The Fly: Outbreak #1 (IDW)

IDW is very good at providing platforms for seemingly dead properties to be explored again. I'm slightly bemused by this one, in that I think most people would have taken the chance to ignore the events of the not-terribly-good The Fly II and follow on from Cronenberg's masterpiece. (And it is a masterpiece.) In fact, I'd really love to see a working of Geena Davis's Flies treatment, but hey ho. It's been a long time since The Fly II, but Outbreak seems to either retcon/misconstrue the ending to the film or I'm misremembering it myself. Still, I'm fairly certain that the villainous Bartok was left as a misshapen monster because essential human genes were removed and implanted in Martin's cells, not because he had fly DNA swapped into his body. In any case, I like how this story deals with Martin's guilt with leaving Bartok in this state, and how he has become little better than him with his constant experimentation. Not sure how this is going to develop, but it's reasonably well written and it looks fantastic.

Frankenstein Underground #1 (Dark Horse)

It's been ages since I read any Mignola. I'm not sure why; I love Hellboy and BPRD, it's just a universe I haven't found myself visiting for some time. So an unexpected new series starting seemed like a good opportunity to jump back in. Frankenstein Underground is a Hellboy spin-off, and so takes place in that macabre universe, and it certainly feels part of that aesthetic. It's a shame Mignola doesn't really draw anymore, save for covers and occasional special items, but Ben Stenbeck's art is similar enough to match the world's tone while being distinct enough not to feel slavish. A sympathetic and horrific look at the classic Monster, and one I think I shall follow.

Doctor Who: Eleventh Doctor #8 (Titan)

I dropped this for a bit due to not wanting to have to sell a kidney to afford all my comics, so with a little spare cash I thought I'd grab it again. Bit of a shame I missed any of these; Al Ewing is on the top of his writing game, and the Eleventh Doctor series are the best Doctor Who comics around right now. Alice is a companion who really should have been on TV; she's realistic and likeable, but not a pushover, and I doubt she'd have polarised opinions in the way either Amy or Clara have. Jones, on the other hand, is just fun, and is now speaking almost entirely in David Bowie quotes. Because that's who he is, even if he isn't officially young Davey Jones. This is intriguing, well told and often very funny, and I still love Warren Pleece's slab-faced version of Eleven.

Doctor Who Magazine #484 (Panini)

This month's comic strip is a one-off, entitled "Space Invaderz," which is fun parody of Storage Hunters and similar programmes. There only two problems: firstly is that a similar idea was used for a story in the recent anthology Seasons of War, but rather better executed. This happens when there are multiple publishers of one property, but there you go. Secondly, though, is that this is obviously meant to be funny, but just isn't very. Bit of a misstep, but they can't all be classics.

Bill & Ted's Most Triumphant Return #1 (Boom!)

Another eighties movie follow-up this month, this time from Boom! With talk of a third movie happening in the near future, it seems timely to provide a follow-up to Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey. This picks up almost immediately after the finish of the second film, and deals with the pressure on the Stallyns to write their second song and continue their destiny. Good fun, with some enjoyable use of time travel. A separate, shorter story concerning the good robot Bill and Ted rounds off the issue. Worth checking out issue two, I feel.

Star Trek #43: Five Year Mission (IDW)

Picked this up to see what was going on in the Abrams-verse. Nothing very gripping, sadly. The Enterprise has gone a bit Star Trek: Voyager and is now adrift in the Delta Quadrant. Somehow, I feel this won't last, considering they've got to be back in the neighbourhood this time next year for the third movie (like that's going to arrive on time). A mysterious local offers assistance. Can she be trusted? What do you think? Nothing special, going to drop this line for good.

Saga #26 (Image)

I'm wondering whether to continue buying this monthly, or to stop and wait for the trades, which do seem to be a better format for the story style. Then again, I really do enjoy my regular dose of Saga, and there are far worse crimes than moving slowly. It's a long wait till the next phase of the story starts as it is. We're in a very different place now to where the series started, and the shifting friendships and alliances are intriguing. It needs to come to a head soon, though. Remains utterly compelling, for all that.

Nemo: River of Ghosts (Top Shelf/Knockabout)

The final installment of Alan Moore's Janni Nemo trilogy, this chapter taking place primarily in 1975, with the now very elderly lady captain falling into obsession with the potential return of her archnemesis, Ayesha. It continues in the vein of the previous volumes, playing the game of dropping in as many references for readers to spot as possible. This manages to cross-pollinate Dr. Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine, The Lost World, The Creature from the Black Lagoon and Incan adventure tales, throwing in a gaggle of Hitler - sorry, I mean Hynkel - clones. Hugo Coghlan, aka Hugo Hercules, is a particularly obscure character to lift from the archives, but he's an important one, often cited as the first superhero. He's good fun though, providing unlimited muscle and a surprisingly sympathetic ear for Nemo. It's also heavily implied that he's the father of Desperate Dan of The Dandy, which, textually speaking, I suppose he is. There's something of a theme of ageing and the loss of faculties, with regards to Nemo herself and the ever-advancing world beyond her sanctuary. Essentially, though, this is a romp, and while that's great fun and all, Moore's work used to be about something.

HAMMERAMA: The Curse of Frankenstein (1957)

You can't have Hallowe'en without a bit of Hammer, and despite the unseasonal blazing sunshine this gone Hallows Eve, I turned to the film that put Hammer Horror on the map. Hammer had, of course, been around for many years before The Curse of Frankenstein, and had dabbled in sci-fi and horror with such titles as The Quatermass X-Periment. Yet it was Curse that would kick off their reputation as the masters of British horror. Full colour X-certificate gothic horror with just enough gruesomeness and gore to shock and entice the British public in equal measure. While tame by the standards of today's gut-drenched horror films, Hammer's chillers were scandalous by the standards of the time. Critics savaged Curse as debased and depraved as much they applauded its acting and production techniques.


There have been dozens of films based on Shelley's novel Frankenstein, already almost 140 years old when Hammer produced its own version. There were already numerous such films by 1957, the most famous and well-regarded being Universal's 1931 film. The success of this was jealously guarded by the company, and Universal did everything they could to ensure that Hammer could not replicate any elements of the monochrome classic. Every adaptation of the novel has played fast and loose with the source material, and Hammer's is no different. Indeed, the need to differentiate their version from Universal's perhaps led to the very different plot used in Curse, which bears little resemblance to that of the novel. Bookended by the possibly insane Baron Frankenstein telling his story while awaiting the hangman's noose, the storyline retains the fundamentals of the scientist stitching together a creature from human corpses and bringing it to life with electricity, but little else. Notably, one element to make it through was the Creature's encounter with a poor blind man, albeit playing out quite differently than in the book. It's a scene notably absent from Universal's version, although it was worked into its sequel, Bride of Frankenstein. However, while in the novel and Bride it is used to develop sympathy for the Creature by providing someone who does not see his terrible visage, Curse uses it to ramp up the horror and danger posed by the Creature.


This is, of course, the first outing for Hammer's classic double act, Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee, although not the first ever film to feature them both (that was a 1948 production of Hamlet, although Lee was uncredited). The duo would star in a number of films together for Hammer, often as opposing characters, and struck up a deep and famous friendship. Cushing is absolutely fantastic as Victor Frankenstein; idealistic, engaging, yet chillingly amoral and oozing with hubris. In spite of his great intellect, he is a borderline sadist, taking very little time to progress from drowning puppies to murdering old friends in cold blood. Not to mention his cold-hearted affair with his own housemaid, little more than a sex object used by the Baron to sate his baser impulses. Lee, however, is rather wasted here, with little opportunity to show the skill that later made him so renowned. Cast primarily for his height (his role almost went to Carry On... star and future Ice Warrior Bernard Bresslaw), he has no lines and surprisingly little screentime. Nonetheless, Lee manages to bring both fearsome power and an injured vulnerability to the part of the Creature.


Part of the agreement of terms with Universal was that Hammer's version of the Creature could not look like the infamous flat-topped version played by Boris Karloff. Make-up artist Jack Pierce created a unique new look for the Creature, and while it will never be as widely recognised as the Universal version, it has its own distinct quality. It's a particularly unpleasant version of Frankenstein's creation, with rotten, pallid flesh boasting very visible stitching. One eye is white with cataract, while the other is piercingly intelligent. It's a deeply unsettling image.

The film has a small cast, with the bulk of scenes going to Frankenstein and his teacher, accomplice and eventual enemy, Paul Krempe, played with conviction by Robert Urquhart. Melvyn Hayes is impressive, and convincingly Cushing-like, as Victor's younger self. Hazel Court is also very good as Elizabeth, the potential Mrs Frankenstein. But it's Cushing who owns this film, his every scene bristling with charm and threat in equal measure. He is, quite appropriately, electrifying.



The success of The Curse of Frankenstein would lead to the production of six sequels, all but one featuring Cushing as the mad Baron. More significant is that Curse launched Hammer into focusing almost solely on Horror until the mid-seventies. Hammer immediately went into production on Dracula, which reunited Cushing and Lee and allowed the latter to show just what he was capable of. Dracula, its own follow-ups, and the 1959 release The Mummy, cemented Cushing, Lee and Hammer as the new faces of horror.