It Stains the Sands Red Movie Review
Written by Daniel Evans
Released by Digital Interface Productions
Directed by Colin Minihan
Written by Colin Minihan and Stuart Ortiz
2016, 92 minutes, Rated 18 (UK)
Frightfest English premiere on 25th August 2017
Brittany Allen as Molly
Juan Riedinger as Smalls
Merwin Mondesir as Nick
Kristopher Higgins as Ted
Andrew Supanz as Jason
Award for the unlikeliest double act in recent movie history must go to Molly (Brittany Allen) and Smalls (Juan Riedinger). Molly is a fun loving stripper heading out of that sandy pit of writhing plastic glamour, Las Vegas, and Smalls is a fun loving member of the undead, and together they traverse miles and miles of treacherous desert. If The Evil Dead and Lawrence of Arabia had a baby then it would look a lot like this.
Las Vegas is now in the throes of a complete zombie apocalypse, so Molly and her pimp/lover/....friend (?) Nick wisely escapes the troubles. Both are heading for an airstrip, where a plane awaits to bundle them off. Car trouble naturally halts this process and Molly and Nick are left stranded on a long stretch of desolate desert road, where lurks a shuffling cadaver, desperate for company, or more than likely, is just bloodthirsty and ravenous. The zombie disposes of the horrid Nick pretty quickly and sets its sights on our intrepid heroine. Smalls is a persistent creature, and unfortunately for Molly, he fully intends on following her the full 36 miles, where safety seemingly awaits.
Molly has all the essentials one would need whilst stranded in an endless, sun crusted desert. Her trusty survival tools include a small bag of cocaine and a phone with (shockingly for Horror Film Land) enough signal for her to use it! But as she totters over the boiling Nevada terrain in her lofty heels, the connection between her and the zombie strangely strengthens and by the end a real emotional attachment blossoms. This being a one woman show, Brittany Allen handles the clichéd character well, and we get a glimpse back into a more stable world in which she used to live. The desert is a character in itself, particularly at night, and there is a definite eye for visuals in the production (despite the low budget), with the customary psychedelic desert walk montage making an appearance, and a smattering of George Romero gore to keep the carnage fiends happy. You won’t find anything overtly terrifying here, and the last minute dash from bedraggled Ash-like zombie slayer to mother of the year is a forced attempt to arc our sympathies her way. But our attention is grabbed tightly throughout. Maybe not as tight as the grip one of the living dead would have on your innards, but pretty damn clenched all the same.
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