Film Review: Hobo With A Shotgun

Tasteless, offensive, nauseating - these are just a few adjectives which could be used to describe this film. And yet, if you were anywhere near twisted enough to enjoy the likes of Planet Terror, Death Proof or Machete, Hobo With A Shotgun will be right up your ally. Excuse the pun.

A nameless drifter (Hauer) arrives in Hope Town, affectionately renamed 'Scum Town' by the locals, to find it run by a homicidal maniac called The Drake (Downey) and his two sons Slick (Smith) and Ivan (Bateman). Revolted to find that they've also bought off the police, the hobo gets an old shotgun from a pawn shop and begins dealing out the justice.

Like Machete, Hobo With A Shotgun began life super-saturated in 70s colour as a mock trailer for Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodirguez's grindhouse project, Planet Terror and Death Proof. However, where Machete was disappointing to the point where all you needed to know was in the trailer, this is much better. Indeed, out of all the mock exploitation films it is probably the best, existing only to push people's buttons. Hobo With A Shotgun is unrelentingly concerned with being as offensive as it can possibly be. Name any social faux pas and it's probably exploited here. From a paedophile dressed as Santa all year round cackling as he drives round the block with an eight-year old girl in the back screaming "don't let him take me" to incinerating a schoolbus full of children, you'll certainly feel uneasy laughing in places. Is there any redeeming subtext in this film? Well maybe, if you consider that no matter how bad people seem, there's always a hobo with a shotgun ready to sweep the streets clean of evil. Then again, maybe not.

Hauer is this film's *ahem* tramp card, growling every utterance through gritted teeth. Dreaming of one day owning a lawnmower (bizarre at first, but the plot unravels), Hauer's hobo takes to indulging a bumfight-esque producer who pays him to eat glass. When he finally earns enough and trots to the pawn shop to buy the grass chopper, the hobo is witness to a robbery which finally tips him over the edge, prompting him to buy a shotgun (with unlimited ammo) instead. To add to proceedings we are introduced to 'The Plague' who are hired to take out the hobo - a duo comprising of a gasmask wearing, nazi helmet donning, leather clad fetish enthusiast and a short stubby version of the black knight from Monty Python. The sheer ridiculous of events and unabashed gore fest which ensues settles any doubt over whether any of this is to be taken seriously. However, except Hauer who appears in on it all, the rest of the unproven cast seem to be out to make a name for themselves - so much so that they don't seem to get it. Consequently Hobo With A Shotgun walks somewhat of a fine-line and if it were not for Hauer, the morality police might have even greater cause to slam this. 

Hobo With A Shotgun is sick, but it is also fun. For the mentally deranged among us you will enjoy limbs being hacked off in lawnmower blades and penis' blown off with a shotgun. What you see is what you get. It also features a great soundtrack, particularly use of Lisa Lougheed's 'Run With Us' - a song which will evoke memories of an innocent age in eighties cartoon, The Raccoons. Not now though! Not one for the morally pious.

Film Review: The Rite

I'm just going to gazump you and answer the obvious question before it's asked. The Rite ain't no Exorcist. Ever since Linda Blair's literally head-spinning performance in 1973 every other film dealing with the subject matter of demonic possession has been expected to yield similar pea soup-vomiting results. Rather, The Rite feels more like Exorcist-lite. Indeed, most audience's sensibilities these days would probably, sadly, be offended by anything daring to attempt something as audacious.

Rookie priest Michael Kovac (Colin O'Donoghue) is suffering a crisis of faith and considering leaving the seminary before he even graduates. Doubling-down in an effort to restore Michael's faith, his tutor sends him on a two-month exorcism course at the Vatican where he is introduced to Father Lucas Trevant (Anthony Hopkins). As Michael observes Father Trevant's latest exorcism of a young teenage girl, his scepticism soon comes under question after a series of inexplicable events.

The Rite attempts to be deep and profound by attempting to pose theological conundrums which even Richard Dawkins might have a hard time answering. None of which, however, are quite as clever or thought-provoking as they first sound. But then, this is a standard for this kind of film, and indeed the same hymn sheet is at use throughout; sceptic is confronted by things which cannot be explained away by science, compounded by the creepy possessed character yelling insults and an inexplicable ability to tell said sceptic things only they would know. Throw in a cheap 'sudden noise' scare and you can pretty much fill in the blanks for yourself.

That's not to say The Rite is a bad film, it's just a concept which has been disappointingly executed. There's a lot of material to work with here, none more so than the actors. O'Donoghue is convincing as troubled young drifter whose preconceptions are challenged, forced to shake his act up when he can no longer run from his past. Likewise, the part of Father Lucas is tailor-made for Hopkins with his nonchalant eccentricity and is a role he plays with believability. Indeed, there is nothing inherently wrong with any of the actual performances at hand.

And yet, there's something missing. The film ponders for far too long for no particular reason, meaning that the final act feels somewhat rushed. And while director Mikael Håfström should be commended for staying away from lavish CGI in favour of a more realistic, rustic cinematography which only adds a depth and richness to the atmosphere, the scares feel a little attenuated. As such, nothing really comes together as it should. There's enough here to entertain with each actor giving enjoyable performances, but just don't expect a horror classic.