(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“After an innocent man is executed in a case for which he was not responsible, a Scotland Yard superintendent finds himself investigating the murder of his key witness.”
 
The pursuit of justice has fueled a great number of pictures, especially some of the better Film Noirs to emerge from Hollywood.
 
What many have found so interesting about a handful of them is that justice is rarely black-and-white.  In other words, the best Noirs have dealt with individuals who’ve had to seek out and explore some kind of restitution – personal or otherwise – by following their own codes of conduct.  In the process, they try to do right, but they’re not opposed to – shall we say? – bending a few conventional rules here and there if and when the circumstances require it.  They might rough up a suspect.  They might plant a bit of evidence. They might even point the cops in the wrong direction so that they can operate freely away from judgmental eyes.  And – in the most extreme cases – they might even serve as judge, jury, and executioner all rolled up in one.
 
The Verdict (1946) opens in those fragile moments after a verdict has been judiciously carried out: Superintendent George Edward Grodman (played by the great Sydney Greenstreet) listens as the bell tolls overhead, signaling that the death sentence of a murderer he sent to the gallows has been carried out.  However, upon returning to his office days later, Grodman is shocked to learn that a key witness has turned up with an alibi that would’ve proven the man innocent.  As a consequence, he’s summarily stripped of his position; and his arrogant and self-serving assistant – Superintendent John R. Buckley (George Coulouris) – is promoted to Prosecutor.
 
Forced into retirement after thirty years, Grodman decides to pen his memoirs of time in public service; and he enlists the assistance of long-time associate Victor Emmric (Peter Lorre) – a newspaper caricaturist – to provide artwork for the tome.  Before the two can get themselves focused on the collaboration, an all-new murder takes place in the very block where they live; and the pair find themselves thrust into the center of this development which slowly begins to grow into a crime with no solution.  How could a man be murdered inside a locked room with no means of entry or exit?  Indeed, Grodman decides he will solve the caper if it’s the last thing he does!
 
Indeed, it’s this set-up that drew me – as a viewer – into the whole sordid affair which involved a lothario Arthur Kendall (Morton Lowry) and local showgirl Lottie Rawson (the fetching Joan Lorring), suggesting that the case might be somehow tied to the man’s philandering nature and the scorn of a woman earned.  The problem, though, is that Kendall’s identity as it ties into the case that Grodman botched turns out to be the clue everyone forgets as the procedural unfolds – including Superintendent Buckley – and this is the crux upon which the script from Peter Milne (based on Israel Zangwill’s novel) revolves.  Without spoiling it (which I generally avoid), let’s just say that this case becomes Grodman’s most personal effort in more ways than one.
 
The Verdict is the kind of story that only works because the audience has little to no way of predicting who committed the crime because, thematically, that would spoil the entire point of the picture.  Because of this, the resolution might come across as more than a bit contrived since clues aren’t additive to answering any significant questions.  What remains is a puzzle – one reasonably well delivered by director Don Siegel – but it’s also a quandary that might feel a bit toothless in the last reel as an authentic mystery.  As a melodrama?  Sure, that works!  As a Noir?  Of course, it’s in keeping with the genre!  But … as a mystery?  Well … not so much …
 
While the picture is modestly entertaining and boasts some great work by Greenstreet and Lorre, I can’t help but wonder if it would be entirely forgotten had lesser talent been cast in the lead roles.  Siegel’s work in bringing all of it to life is equally impressive, but there’s no escaping the fact that inevitably answering the seminal ‘whodunnit’ removes any bit of freshness or originality to the whole shebang because it reeks of contrivance along with some somewhat forced twists and turns viewers are slogged through along the way.  Yes, it concludes with the obligatory sense that justice has been served; and yet there’s no escaping the fact that the audience might feel a bit swindled for having spent 90 minutes waiting for a denouement of such artifice.
 
The Verdict (1946) was produced by Warner Bros.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been handled by the fine folks at Warner Archive.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure readers that the provided sights and sounds are quite good throughout: there’s a flatness to some of the exterior studio shots – the streets are shrouded with fog – but it isn’t anything disastrous.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  The disc boasts some other entertainment from the era – cartoons and a few radio dramas – but nothing that’s directly tied to the main film.
 
Mildly Recommended.
 
As big a fan of classic films as I am – especially dark melodramas and Film Noirs – I’ll still admit to finding not all that much to love about The Verdict (1946).  It’s good but a bit theatrically contrived in spots.  While expertly made and compellingly set-up, it inevitably feels a bit flat even though a central character achieves a measure of redemption … not that that was much of a surprise, either.  I mean … that was the point of the story, so kudos for sticking the landing, I guess.  Still, fans of Sydney Greenstreet and Peter Lorre should definitely check out their work here; and I’d be remiss if I failed to mention that Joan Lorring also turns in a wonderfully spunky supporting role here.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Verdict (1946) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ
​

As long as there have been video games, there has also been opportunists who’ve seen the prospect of adapting those winding stories into motion pictures or television shows.
 
And … why not?  Like any good franchise or established and successful intellectual property, there’s already an audience who might be easily wooed to make a trip to the cineplex to see the latest and greatest video sensation brought to life on the silver screen.  In fact, 2023’s The Super Mario Bros. Movie damn near created a zeitgeist all of its own, earning a mind-bobbling $1.36 billion in ticket sales globally while also laying down an all-new (gold) yellow brick road in merchandising tie-ins.  Granted, not every attempt has broken the bank to that astonishing level; but the potential is there if storytellers can produce something those initial players are willing to see expanded.  Who can blame a studio – Hollywood or independent – from taking a stab at greatness?
 
Of course, none of this happens without intrinsic risks.  For example, all of the bells and whistles that ignite a player’s imagination in the game may not exactly translate into ‘peak cinema,’ and I’m thinking that might be the case herein with 2026’s The Mortuary Assistant.  A first-person experience created by DarkStone Digital, the game pits players against the dark forces surrounding a haunted mortuary where the undead and demonic forces are always on the watch for a new soul to possess … namely you!  In pursuit of a happy ending, you must identify the corpses possessed and complete a kinda/sorta exorcism in order to get out alive; and the film from director Jeremiah Kipp follows the same basic narrative structure, pairing up watchers with the central Rebecca Owens in theatrical format.
 
Still, what starts out rather promising ends up being downright tiresome and befuddling for a fair number of reasons, the single greatest of which is the script from Tracee Beebe and Brian Clarke relies far too heavily on its unreliable narrator.
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Follows Rebecca Owens, a mortuary science graduate who takes a night job at River Fields Mortuary. What begins as a routine job soon turns sinister as she faces terrifying supernatural forces.”
 
Meet Rebecca Owens (played by Willa Holland).  A year into her sobriety, she’s finally found herself in a good, livable place.  Though her sponsor, Kelly (Keena Ferguson Fraiser), is apt to remind the young woman how quickly addicts are prone to relapse, she’s also supportive to the fact that Becca seems to be on the right track.  Indeed, she’s completed an internship at a local mortuary under the guidance of Raymond Delver; so, presumably, things are finally looking up for the lady.
 
However, what started as a career simply working with the dead turns out to be something vastly more complicated.  In the scope of a single evening, Becca discovers that Raymond and the mortuary are actually a place of increased spectral activity, the likes of which represents a battle between the forces of good and evil.  Secretly, the man has mastered the high art of combatting these dark lords; and he’s quietly been preparing for Becca to join him in waging the conflict against the underworld.  Before the night is over, she’ll not only grapple with a pervasive spirit but also learn a thing about herself and the tragedy of her youth that ties her directly to the conquest in more ways than one.
 
Now, I’ll grant anyone reading that the premise for both Assistant’s game and film sounds impressive.  Horror films especially get great mileage out of pitting the right and the wrong against one another, and director Kipp similarly stages the set-up for his chilling affair with great poise.  Essentially, the first thirty minutes to Assistant is almost entirely atmosphere and foundation building; and it’s definitely good enough to make viewers believe they’re in for something special.  However, once Becca exits her tutorial stage and enters discovery, Assistant – as a film – begins to fall apart with each successive development.
 
This isn’t to say that the resulting film isn’t spooky in any regard because the jump scares and constant creepiness (especially of the morgue which keeps losing power in the midst of a storm outside) are effective.  The problems entirely surround the fact that Becca’s own existence is plagued repeatedly by visions of increasingly questionable veracity.  Is that stiff dead, or is it not?  Did she just cut herself, or was that only her imagination?  Is her long-dead father walking around the dark interiors, or is that, too, something her wayward mind is manufacturing?  While we’re shown that the dead aren’t exactly deceased, she’s busy doing other stuff tied to either the voices in her head or the hallucinations that – ahem – may or may not be taking place.  (Again, some are, but it’s strongly suggested that many aren’t.)  Distinguishing between Fantasy and reality becomes damn near impossible, and Assistant seems complacent staying in that broken gear.  All the way up until the closing scene, the audience questions everything from Becca’s point of view; and – sorry, folks – that’s just so way to win over those of us who haven’t played the game.
 
Unfortunately, I’m adding Assistant to that growing number of games-to-films that squander an otherwise fabulous proposition on faulty storytelling.  The inability to distinguish authenticity had me downright hating the second half, wasting an interesting performance from Holland; and I suspect those who stumble into this one without knowledge of the game might feel much the same.
 
The Mortuary Assistant (2026) was produced by Creativity Capital, Dread, DreadXP, Epic Pictures, and Traverse Media.  A quick search of Google.com indicates that the picture will be available in a limited theatrical run beginning on February 13, 2026, with a streaming launch to follow on Shudder effective March 27, 2026.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure readers that the film offers a high degree of practical, in-camera trickery with a respectable number of jump scares: all of it both looks and sounds exceptional.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  As I viewed this one via streaming, there were no special features under consideration.
 
Alas … this one is Hard To Recommend, though it might offer cursory appeals to established fans of the intellectual property.
 
Bluntly, there may very well be an audience for The Mortuary Assistant (2026); but, alas, I can’t imagine it spreading all that much beyond the crowd who’ve come to both know and love the world and premise of the 2022 video game that serves as its inspiration.  My trouble with it – coming aboard entirely uninitiated with the project – is that the central story lacks any compelling hook with which to draw me in.  While the idea of playing some game and learning how all of these pieces go hand-in-hand toward some resolution, the flick is a confusing and meandering mishmash of events all evolving from the frayed, hallucinogenic existence of an unreliable narrator.  As such, I felt torn between reality and Fantasy far too much of the time, with the young hero’s struggle being completely lost in translation.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Epic Pictures provided me with complimentary streaming access to The Mortuary Assistant (2026) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ
​

So many movies ... so little time ...

On this day in 2019 (in Germany), The Golden Glove enjoyed its first presentation ever when it was screened for audiences of the Berlin International Film Festival.  Written (in part) and directed by Fatih Akin, the film starred Jonas Dassler, Vasiliki Georgina Pseimada, Christine Jensen, and others. 

​According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:

"A serial killer strikes fear in the hearts of residents of Hamburg during the early 1970s."

For the record:
As well as garnering some positive attention from the 2019 German Film Awards, The Golden Glove enjoyed a bit of praise from screenings on the film festival circuit.

-- EZ
​

So many movies ... so little time ...

On this day in 1964 (in the U.S.), television audiences were taken back to the magical land of Oz with the small screen premiere of Return To Oz.  Directed by F.R. Crawley, Thomas Glynn, and Larry Roemer and based on the works of L. Frank Baum, the animated project featured the voices of Susan Conway, Larry D. Mann, Alfie Scopp, and others. 

According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:

"After her friends are robbed of their prizes by a revived Wicked Witch, Dorothy is sent back to Oz to set things straight once again."

-- EZ

So many movies ... so little time ...

On this day in 2015 (in Germany), One & Two enjoyed its big time theatrical debut when it was first screened for audiences in attendance of the Berlin International Film Festival.  Written (in part) and directed by Andrew Droz Palermo, the film starred Kiernan Shipka, Timothée Chalamet, Elizabeth Reaser, and others. 

According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:

"Two siblings discover a supernatural escape from a troubled home, but find their bond tested when reality threatens to tear their family apart."

For the record:
To the film's credit, One & Two earned a wee bit of praise from a screening on the film festival circuit.

-- EZ

So many movies ... so little time ...

On this day in 1990 (in the U.S.), Demonstone enjoyed a limited theatrical release.  Directed by Andrew Prowse from a story by Frederick Bailey, David Phillips, and John Trayne, the film starred R. Lee Ermey, Jan-Michael Vincent, Nancy Everhard, and others. 

According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:

"Two U.S. Marine investigators looking into a series of grisly murders in Manila discover that the crimes are tied to an amulet with a 400-year-old curse on it that has unleashed supernatural forces which can possess people."

-- EZ

(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A grief-stricken arborist and her son awaken a haunting when they begin felling trees at the estate of a mysterious recluse.”
 
Horror is never an easy vehicle to ride – much less use to spin stories – and 2025’s The Arborist aptly demonstrates some of the bigger reasons why.
 
The sober meditation on grief has been – ahem – done to death in genre circles; and that’s largely because it – like love or the loss of it – is one of storytelling’s most universal and relatable themes.  Grief digs holes in people; and these victims of living life itself go about the business of both managing the aftermath as well as trying to fill that hole with something else.  Clinicians will remind you that refusing to confront what ails the mind will likely only lead to greater and greater problems – ones that can manifest in ways we likely never anticipated – but what generally gets overlooked by even the most educated is that there’s inevitably a right time and a wrong time to cross those bridges.  Doing it too soon might exacerbate the symptoms to the point of being untenable, and doing it too late keeps the door open for an untold number of like-minded obstacles to set themselves in the path to healing that required.
 
It’s into this territory that writer/director Andrew Mudge wanders with The Arborist.  Centrally, he pulls back the curtain that Allie (played by Lucy Walters) has hung over her life.  The apparent crib death of her second child Rachel has left a gaping wound in both her soul and that of her firstborn son Wyatt (Hudson West); but rather than attempt to achieve any measure of closure to the heartbreak both have avoided the sadness by staying occupied with work.  However, in taking a new gig to clear some trees from Arthur Randolph’s estate (Will Lyman), there’s a parallel storyline involving a violent family catastrophe from years earlier that intersects (with ghostly intervention) in the modern day.  If anything, Mudge employs a bit of a storytelling cheat – these two families are secretly related (yes, a bit of a Hollywood trope) – in order to blend the past with the present; but that’s a small price to pay when you’ve got actors and an actress who hit their marks as winningly as the ensemble does here.
 
Now – ahem – this isn’t to say that everything in The Arborist makes perfect sense. 
 
Mudge proves himself capable of crafting a heady atmosphere of doom and gloom while exploring both the lands surrounding the Randolph estate as well as the mansion itself.  Even though audiences are treated to some wide-open spaces both inside and out, there’s no escape the creeping claustrophobia of circumstances converging on these three players.  Some of the developments happen a bit too quickly (i.e. Wyatt’s descent into a kind of demonic possession stemming from a Randolph family curse, and who exactly does the boy think he’s talking to in the woods) while others feel a bit clumsily handled (i.e. Ellie’s uncharacteristic desire to explore the main house while never being invited into such spaces).  The fact that watchers spend some time seeing a sequence or two that’s never quite clearly explained (i.e. just what happened to Wyatt under the bridge, and why is it he keeps almost drowning) but only hinted at occasionally slows down an already modestly-paced chiller; so a bit of restraint and trimming could’ve made this one simmer a bit more evenly.
 
Also, it’s worth pointing out that final reel – Ellie finds herself and Wyatt trapped inside a picture-perfect copy of their tragedy from the film’s opening – winds up being rather obviously cinematic trickery.  While there is a logical reason for the visual twist, it still ends up feeling a bit theatrically cliché, reverting to stuff that’s been done before when some other turn might’ve minimally achieved a freshness.  What there is takes a rather intelligent and character-driven thriller and waters it down to little more than some Freddy Krueger-induced sideshow; and I’m going to insist that these characters – especially Walters as she arguably delivers what should be a gutsy, breakout performance here – deserved better.  It’s cheap but always effective.
 
The Arborist (2025) was produced by Black Kettle Films, Pizza Baby Films, and The Wound Wood.  A quick search of Google.com indicates that the picture is available digitally on a variety of streaming platforms.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I can assure readers that the provided sights and sounds are exceptional from start-to-finish: there’s a bit of undercurrent involving a crying infant (you’ll understand) that kinda/sorta gets overused, but that’s not to say it isn’t relevant to the storyline.  It just grew a bit tired after multiple airings.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Alas, I viewed this one via streaming, so there were no special features to consider.
 
Strongly Recommended.
 
Horror – especially Folk Horror (light) – can be a tough sell, but The Arborist (2025) – under Mudge’s capable direction – knew just how to gradually take root and grow into something special.  Although it’s a bit long (clocking in at 100 minutes) and could’ve had a few of its hedges trimmed (snicker snicker), the film benefits from an earthy and grounded performance by Walters (by God, why hasn’t this actress been on someone’s radar?!?!) and some exceptional supporting work from Lyman and West.  Also, the script smartly uses nearly every piece of its environment to great effect – a rarity amongst good chillers – only leaving a few narrative turns up for interpretation when it goes all Gothic and dark in the final reel.  Sure, there’s just enough suggestion hinting that not everything was wrapped up nicely … but that’s the thing about grief, you know?  It never, ever fade completely.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Dark Sky Films provided me with complimentary streaming access to The Arborist (2025) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ

(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A young woman with a difficult past is sentenced for a murder she didn't commit, but revealing the truth could hurt people she loves.”
 
Honestly, I forget precisely how I’d heard about The Sin Of Nora Moran (1933).
 
What I can say is that somewhere in my voluminous reading into one of my all-time personal favorite pictures – 1941’s Citizen Kane – someone had mentioned that Nora Moran was ‘an inspiration.’  Whether this means it was cinematographically or structurally or thematically aligned, I couldn’t say; but I distinctly remember stumbling across some little factoid that mentioned it in association with the Orson Welles’ stunner, so I had to see it if for no other reason than to satisfy my curiosity.  Now having done so, I can’t imagine that this mostly forgettable melodrama served as anything greater than some passing idea in which someone – maybe even Welles himself – referenced how director Phil Goldstone and cinematographer Ira Morgan propelled viewers forward into their narrative in order to attempt something similar in Kane.  The two flicks share an extended reliance on montages and flashbacks – and perhaps even a bit of social commentary on doomed political figures risking it all by maintaining love nests for secret trysts – but, otherwise, they couldn’t be further apart.
 
Now, this isn’t to suggest that Nora Moran is a bad film. 
 
The truth is that it’s kinda/sorta mildly confusing in its sometimes-unconventional way of exploring the usual theatrical shtick: girl meets boy, they fall in love, and moral conventions of the day curse their union to the point of tragedy.  Certainly, Hollywood has done that kind of thing before – hell, they continue to do it to this day – so it’s not all that surprising when Nora (as played by Zita Johann) finds herself trapped in an affair with aspiring would-be governor Dick Crawford (Paul Cavanagh) that’s likely destined to turn out poorly.  There’s little surprise when it does, but the script – Frances Hyland is credited with adapting the W. Maxwell Goodhue stage play – tugs even further at heartstrings by giving the politician ‘the last word’ with his heartbroken suicide.
 
Where Nora Moran might struggle to a large degree with audiences is that it feels like two films somewhat mashed together at the midpoint.
 
Its first half joins our leading lady in the Big House where she’s awaiting execution for the crime of (apparently) murdering Paulino (John Miljan), a lion tamer who gave Nora her professional start with a gig in a traveling circus.  In a twist of fate, viewers also learn that the man’s affinity for taking control extended beyond the lion’s cage as he’s depicted as violently raping his young assistant on a train ride.  When she returns to his life much later in the arms of the future governor Crawford, Paulino schemes to extort her and her beloved for his own personal gain.  But before those who watch get to that critical point, they’re carried along through Goldstone’s picture with constant montages, artistic camera pans, and endless dissolves to keep everything in motion.
 
Sadly but in some ways necessary, Nora Moran’s second half sacrifices the vast majority of that visual trickery in order to present the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth of the seminal confrontation (and results) of Paulino, Nora, and Dick.  Goldstone (or director Howard Christie who also worked on the feature) must’ve wanted to remove all doubt of the wild ride of the set-up, setting aside a well-established bag of tricks for moments of truth; and the aesthetic differences just don’t resonate as strongly as do the romance and chaos of Nora’s happier days.  Granted, they probably shouldn’t – I did suggest that the change was necessary – but going so far in the opposite direction makes Nora Moran seem like two different films.
 
Additionally, the project’s first half is laced with a dreamlike quality that some may’ve found confusing.  Nora takes her audience on a trip through her highs and lows as she’s suffering the effects of a drug meant to lessen her anxieties the day of her prison execution.  The resulting haze has the woman kinda/sorta breaking the fourth wall by asking aloud if she – as a participant in her dreams – can break the spell of history by now doing things differently.  While this kind of thing generally works well in live stage plays – from which Nora Moran was based – I’ve not seen it performed as successful in filmed dramas.  In fact, I personally tend to think the fact that reminding viewers that they’re merely watching a movie as opposed to letting the drama unfold organically is part of why such intimacy is required to make it effective.
 
The Sin Of Nora Moran (1933) was produced by Majestic Pictures and Larry Darmour Productions.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Film Masters.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I can confirm that this release has been restored from a 4K scan of the original 35mm camera negative (as per the slipcase insert); and – meh – the flick looks a bit pale all too often throughout much of the action.  It isn’t bad; it’s just … meh.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Sadly, this is a bare bones release, and there’s nothing extra included.
 
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
 
On a technical level, The Sin Of Nora Moran (1933) offers a good deal – in its first half – with its breezy and sometimes surreal cinematography and storytelling, whisking its audiences through the young girl’s tragic life via what seems like endless montages at a time when the industry was first learning how to use such practices.  Sadly, the second half gives way to a somewhat leaden melodrama – complete with actress Zita Johann’s dour ‘woe is me’ temperament – and the picture loses any sense of originality or forward momentum.  Still, kudos for those small moments when the script dares to do something edgy, like having its lead wonder aloud if she might be able to somehow change history while reliving the good, bad, and ugly of her past in drug-induced hallucinations.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Sin Of Nora Moran (1933) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ
​

​Cleopatra Entertainment is excited to announce the March 10th release of the suspenseful horror film Do Not Open on Digital Video. 

In the vein of a Hitchcock thriller, Do Not Open is about a married couple in their 50's who retreat to a secluded vacation cabin, hoping to mend their strained relationship. From the moment they arrive, they are given one rule: the door at the end of the hall is strictly off-limits. At first, the husband is mildly curious, but as the days pass, the door seems to call to him. Strange occurrences - whispers in the night, fleeting shadows, objects not where they were left - slowly unravel his sanity. 

His curiosity festers into obsession, consuming his every thought. What lies beyond the door? The answer may be far more terrifying than he ever imagined. This psychological horror film thrives on an eerie, slow-burning tension, unsettling atmosphere, and the creeping dread of the unknown.

The film was shot in gorgeous 4K HD resolution with terrific performances by a small cast - and offers a surprise ending!
​