mosquitodragon’s review published on Letterboxd:
Having attended an anniversary screening of Norman J Warren's Terror not so long ago, and seeing the great love and esteem with which he is held by the people he worked with in life, I go into any of his films with a lot of good will. I know it's going to be real rough around the edges but I have nothing but admiration for these self-actualised budget auteurs who, with the most meagre of resources, manage to immortalise their creative urge in film - whatever the genre.
Although Bloody New Year was immediately somewhat adorable to me - it's so British and so homemade - I have to admit that half an hour in, my heart was sinking a little. Even for Warren, this feels like a stretch to get through. Everything is pretty sub-par - the acting, all the technical aspects - and that might be OK but this story really seems to be losing its way up until about 45 minutes in - just a small group of bad actors mooching around a country pub and pretending to be frightened.
Does it suddenly pull itself together and kick into gear, thrumming off into the final act? Well, no, actually. But what it does do is just relinquish its grip on any kind of narrative cohesion and go gloriously off the reservation and into cloud cuckoo land - or whatever the hellish version of that would be called (oilslick vulture land?) What seemed to be a simple haunted house story is suddenly invaded by cadaverous deadite transformations, tablecloths turning into sludge monsters, elevator-related limb severings - at one point, a carny (yes there are carnies) gets his head twisted around so much his fucking intestines come out of his neck and I don't even know how that's anatomically possible.
What I'm saying is it doesn't get any more professional than its tawdry opening act but it sure as hell gets more fun, as long as you're able to take glee from the unique delights of this kind of thing. You know what I love about this and similar films (special mention and recommendation must go to Spookies in this regard, which this film bears a vague resemblance to)? They show that although money and professional slickness and maybe some talent might be limited in any given production, there is no limit to the human imagination. Maybe this movie is nothing more than Norm riffing on whatever grotesque set pieces he and his special makeup effects team could dream up, but the very forcing of a loose narrative connection between these moments of lunacy create a narrative artefact of strange fascination.
Open your mind. This is the epitome of pyschotronic cinema - the lack of polish, the shortcomings of its construction - enjoyment of such art requires the resetting of your own mental wiring when it comes to processing a film narrative and the result is unlike anything you'll get from "normal" films. It's addictive. Bloody New Year doesn't rise to the top of the psychotronic heap because of its slow first half, but there are delights here, be in no doubt on that score.
