Trog blog

Last night, the wife and I went to a screening of The Descent (the wife working 15 hours a day for Rupert Murdoch has a few perks).
It's the scariest goddamn film ever. You think it's going to be a psychological potboiler about a group of women who go pot-holing. "Big deal", you say to yourself. You're thinking a couple of broken ankles, a cave fall, some bitchy falling out, but ultimately they pull together and beat this thing, because they're WOMEN. An extended episode of Casualty basically.
Wrong.
Think again.
Buried alive 2 miles underground, in an undiscovered network of caves, mounting claustrophobia, bottomless crevasses, and legs-broken-so-badly that-the-bone-sticks-rudely-through-the-skin are the least of these girls' problems. Try filling the cavernous tomb with hundreds of flesh-eating troglodytes who can move like insects, and you're beginning to get a better idea of where this film's going. Mountains of bones, a lake of blood, and more pickaxe fights than you can shake a... well, a pickaxe at. "I haven't been this scared by a film since I saw Alien when I was ten" (Pete Gold, voice of Dicky T's fish and chip shop radio campaign).