Home Video
[Review] ‘Phobia’ Fears to Be Different
Phobias are a safe go-to for horror films. Capitalizing on people’s irrational fears has worked for a lot of directors in the past, even though the concept has gone by the wayside in favour of other trends. As such, in the case of Rory Douglas Abel’s low-budget Phobia (formerly known as Alone), throwing in a ghost haunting mechanic seems like a smart way to go. The character is essentially trapped inside their own home, which is no longer considered a safe refuge. Sounds like a promising start, but what about the execution?
Jonathan (Michael Jefferson) is a man suffering from agoraphobia brought on by the death of his wife Jane in a car accident. A year on, and he still can’t bring himself to leave the house, forcing his therapist, Dr. Edmondson (Peter Gregus) to make house calls, and his friend Taylor (Andrew Ruth) to bring him groceries. Things aren’t made easier when Jonathan starts seeing visions of his dead wife, mixed with visions of another woman dressed in black (Sandra Palmeri). Things really start getting hairy when Taylor goes on a trip, and leaves him with Bree (Emma Dubery). Bree manages to get Jonathan to open up, but in doing so, causes his visions to become stronger and deadlier.
Having almost the entirety of a film shot within within one location is often a difficult thing to do, especially with very few characters. Of course, it works in the film’s budget, but that’s not why you’re watching the film. The one location not only creates the sense of isolation, restlessness and a sense of going crazy that Jonathan feels, but Abel is also able to impart those same feelings to the viewer. Honestly, the idea is pretty terrifying to not only fear what would happen if you leave your home, but also the fear of going stir-crazy and having no safe place to go. What makes it even better is that we’re not entirely sure if Jonathan’s sane, and if this is all inside his head.
As far as the acting goes, it’s a mix of amateur talents. Admittedly, Michael Jefferson has a lot on his plate to be carrying the film by himself, and he succeeds in being a sympathetic character, even if the delivery is kind of flat. The same can be said for Emma Dubery, who is also suspect with her delivery. Also, Debbie Rochon in a cameo? Bonus. In terms of the gore, there’s a some light blood with a couple of creepy makeup effects, but it’s just ‘meh’, which ultimately describes Phobia.
Despite what seems like the potential to be a good indie horror film, Phobia fails to capitalize on it’s opportunities. Despite the premise, the film just doesn’t bring anything new to the table, and instead just presents all of these elements and hardly does anything with them. The film just has the persons in his apparitions appear at random, with no reason for them popping up. Worse, the tension suffers because of this, and while it isn’t nonexistent, it does dip into the territory when you start thinking of doing the dishes instead. The last swerve is the cover for the film. While it harkens back to those cool 80s VHS covers, it’s all a lie: it has nothing to do with the film at all. It’s a bait and switch that many low-budget movies have gone in order to grab viewers’ attentions, and it’s really annoying when it does happen.
Phobia is not a bad film. It’s not a great film, mind you, but it falls somewhere in the middle of the road. There were some good ingredients for a spooky haunted house/psychological horror film, but Phobia just goes through the motions that we’ve all seen before and from which we’ve all moved on. It’s a fire-and-forget type of film out of which you’ll get some enjoyment, but you won’t be wanting to watch it again.
Video/Audio:
Presented in 1.78:1 widescreen, the image looks good for a film of this budget. Details are adequate, with the overall colour palette being subdued and not overly bright (a directorial decision). Black levels aren’t as strong, and as a result, details in the lower-lit scenes tend to be swallowed by the background.
The Dolby Digital 5.1 track is again pretty standard, although there were some instances of the actors’ dialogue not coming through as clear as it did in a previous shot. Surrounds do an adequate job for certain ambient effects and offscreen characters.
Extras:
First up is an Audio Commentary with Producer Elias Ganster and Director Rory Abel. The duo’s friendship certainly comes through with an energetic track, covering things like the origins of the project, never actually meeting the co-writer of the film, Matthew Barnes (he lives in New Zealand), reshooting specific scenes, how to make your dick bigger when it comes to nude scenes (yeah, I don’t know, either), and other production-related tidbits that make the commentary far more interesting than the actual feature.
Following that is a collection of Deleted Scenes. Nothing too exciting, unless you like watching Emma Dubery’s character making the cliched faux pas of “mistaking ‘x’ for ‘y’ when ‘x’ was dead” routine.
Rounding things out is a gallery of Concept Art, including sketches of effects and photos of the actors and actresses overlaid with sketched-out concepts of their effects makeup with notes.
There’s also a slipcover included that replicates the cover art, with a few embossed areas.
Home Video
‘Matinee’ Blu-ray Review: Kino Cult Revives an Overlooked Canadian Slasher Gem
There’s something really insidious, in a great way, about setting a horror story in a movie theater. It’s something filmmakers have known for decades, going back to The Blob and beyond, but it never fails to strike a chord because, in a way, it hits us exactly where we feel safest. Seeing a horror movie on the big screen, surrounded by like-minded moviegoers, is a communal experience, one in which everyone screams and laughs together. We are together, and therefore we are much less vulnerable, so when someone punctures that bubble of safety, it’s all the more frightening.
Matinee (also released as Midnight Matinee in some territories) is a movie that understands this from the jump, setting up a stunning opening kill that predates a similar sequence in Scream 2 by almost a full decade. A smart, layered, very stylish Canadian slasher released at the tail end of the 1980s, it’s one of those films that’s spent a lot of time in the dark even among the horror faithful (I’m willing to admit that I hadn’t seen it until recently). Now, a new Kino Cult Blu-ray release is out to change that, and it reveals a slasher essential that, while not perfect, has charm and style to spare.
Two years ago, the Paramount Theater in the small town of Halston closed its doors when, during the theater’s annual horror festival, a young moviegoer was murdered in his seat, mid-movie. Leads in the murder quickly dried up, and the case is cold enough now that the town barely talks about it anymore. Fortunately for local horror fans, that means the Paramount can open again in time for its Halloween horror festival, and they’ve got a hotshot producer (William B. Davis) in town for just such an occasion.

As the festival draws closer, the film introduces us to a variety of characters, including rebellious teenager Sherri (Beatrice Boepple), her boyfriend Lawrence (Jeff Schultz), her overbearing mother Marilyn (Gillian Barber), and the theater’s kindly owner, Earle (Don S. Davis), who’s just hoping he can run a business without more bloodshed. But someone clearly remembers what happened two years ago, and their violent streak is on a collision course with opening night.
Matinee has quite a few things going for it, but what stands out right away, and maintains a consistent grip right up through a wonderful crescendo in the third act, is the film’s visual style. Writer/Director Richard Martin, cinematographer Cyrus Block, and special effects wizard Bob Comer make great use of the film’s limited locations, giving the movie a charming small-town feel reminiscent of Halloween or The Blob while building a self-contained little world inside the theater itself that’ll remind you of films like Popcorn and Demons.
The colors are striking, the framing is clever, and the film clearly has a ball making references to all kinds of other horror cinema moments ranging from The Phantom of the Opera to Friday the 13th. The kills, while relatively sparing with gore, are delivered with style and appropriate tension, creating that sense of unease right in the middle of a place where we as movie fans should be comfortable: The movie theater. Along the way, the Paramount itself becomes a character, and this release definitely dials up its retro splendor.

The Blu-ray upgrade preserves the film’s attention to detail and ambitious cinematography, helping the colors to pop while never letting go of the texture and feel of a relatively low-budget horror film made in Canada in the 1980s. There’s a certain gauziness to many exploitation films of this era, that haloed light you get when the scene is perhaps overexposed just a little too much. It makes the film dreamlike even when it reaches for realism, and Kino Cult’s upgrade preserves that feeling. Throw in a smart script and a whodunit plot that leans heavily into the psychological details of each character, and you’ve got a winner.
There are a couple of things that stick out as slight issues here, including the lack of special features beyond an excellent commentary from film historians and Kino regulars Jason Pichonsky and Paul Corupe. The disc is quite reasonably priced, so it’s not a letdown economically speaking, but I’d love a deeper dive into the film and the Canadian slasher boom in general, particularly for a movie like this that seems to have faded from so many memories, including mine. The sound mix also has some issues, probably left over from previous releases, that might have you playing with your volume settings a little more than you’d like over the course of a 90-minute film, particularly when lines of ADR dialogue crop up.
These are minor concerns, though, and they do nothing to diminish the impact of Matinee, or the joy that’ll come from watching this film for the first time if you’re a slasher devotee in search of something new, or even someone who saw this movie way back when hoping to relive its glories. This is one of those slashers I’ll be talking about with fellow horrorphiles for a long time, and it’s because of this disc.
Matinee is now available on Blu-ray from Kino Cult.


You must be logged in to post a comment.