Ripper: Letter From Hell Review

“From hell

Mr Lusk

Sor

I send you half the Kidne I took from one women prasarved it for you tother piece I fried and ate it was very nise I may send you the bloody knif that took it out if you only wate a whil longer

signed Catch me when you Can

Mishter Lusk”

The above is the sinister content of the famous ‘From Hell Letter’, sent to a George Lusk, who was head of the Whitechapel Vigilance Committee, a group who patrolled the night time streets of London’s Whitechapel during the hunt for perhaps the most famous serial killer of all time; Jack the Ripper. The authenticity of the letter has been debated for many years, but many believe it may be one the few genuine letters sent by the killer during 1888 when the impoverished of Whitechapel were gripped in a fevered panic. The name ‘Jack the Ripper’ actually originated in a different letter (the ‘Dear Boss’ letter), which is now believed to have been a fake, possibly written by a journalist in order to heighten interest in the case. Real or no, the name stuck, and over a century later, the identity of Jack has never officially been established. There are five ‘canonical’ Ripper victims – Mary Ann/Polly Nichols, Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stride, Catherine Eddowes and Mary Jane Kelly, who all worked as prostitutes in Whitechapel. Despite surely having been invisible untouchables during their lifetimes, their names are now part of history. The case of Jack the Ripper has been retold and reinterpreted many times in books, television and film, often with a different theory as to who the killer was, and his reasons do doing what he did. The most recent of these was probably 2009’s schlocky, vaguely preposterous, but highly entertaining Whitechapel, made by ITV, in which modern day London’s Whitechapel district is once again besieged by fear due to a copycat Ripper killer. The film I looking at today, which also features a modern copycat Jack at its core, is no less schlocky, much more preposterous and highly Unentertaining. And as a real kicker it doesn’t feature the very handsome Rupert Penry Jones, who starred in Whitechapel. But despite this hardship, I shall struggle bravely on. Let us dive into Ripper: Letter From Hell. Contains, as always, Spoilers.

  

I’ll Save You Some Time. Watch The One On The Right. (But Not Before You Read My Entire, Sure To Be Hilarious, Review Of Ripper First, Obvs)

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Camp Blood Review

Horror is a genre beset by clichés and tropes. I have discussed some of them already in this blog, but have yet to scratch the surface of the overflowing vat of triteness. From the lack of phone signal in the isolated, murderer infested location of your choice to the fact that if your paramour rocks up all silent and wearing a schlocky mask that means he is a serial killer and her WILL butcher you, horror is often ridiculed for its obviousness. Good horror can overcome this, by subverting the clichés (Scream, House Of The Devil) or even the wildly underused idea of actually making a decent film so the clichés don’t rankle so much. One area where nubile teens have little luck in staying alive I haven’t looked at yet is camping – I apologise for that lame non sequitur, but I’m having a hard time writing an introduction for this film that isn’t just ‘It’s really, really, really shit’ repeated over and over again. Very few folk who go to commune with nature in horror films make it back to the rat race. And if the case of the folk in the film I’m going to look at today, praise the actual Lord. Camp Blood is definitely from the Sickle school of incompetence. So, will it make me want to throw things at other things as much as that film did? Let’s find out. Spoilers, such as they are, to follow.

Camp Crystal Lake Was Also Known As Camp Blood. If The Film Makers Thought This Would Fool Us Into Thinking This Was A Good Film They Were Gravely Mistaken.

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The Pumpkin Karver Review

It be October folks! And we all know what that means, Halloween, everyone’s favourite ‘holiday’. Seriously, I don’t get why it’s referred to as a ‘holiday’, it’s one night based around consumer greed, promoting childhood obesity and making one’s offspring go against the message of NOT taking sweets from strangers. Or, for adults, getting muntered and wearing slutty costumes based on the smallest flesh to cloth ratio possible. I live in Newcastle, we don’t need one night devoted to this, 365 days a year baby! Halloween is of course, also one of the greatest horror films ever made and other films based on this ‘holiday’ flounder in its majestic wake. And I’m including the Halloween sequels, after Season of the Witch (underrated) in this broad sweeping statement. Once you’ve seen Busta Rhymes Kung Fu Michael Myers there is no unseeing it, even if you remove and microwave your own eyeballs. And since I’m still steadfastly ignoring the Rob Zombie Halloween remake using the true infant’s method of if you don’t see it, it doesn’t exist, today I am instead going to be reviewing The Pumpkin Karver, an all-around cinematic low point from 2006. Yeah, take that Rob Zombie. (And this, ladies and gentlemen is the very definition of cutting off your nose to spite your face). Spoilers to follow (does saying that it is *really* fucking terrible count as a spoiler?)

See That Vaguely Creepy Image On The DVD Cover? Yeah. That’s No Where To Be Found In The Film.

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