(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 blood-covered woman is found wandering at night with no memory of what happened. Under interrogation, her fragmented story reveals visions and encounters where reality merges with the monstrous.”
You’ll have to take my word for this: Lenskeeper is most likely going to go down in cult film circles as an acquired taste.
To my surprise, I’ve found very little about the release online; and I say this because I’ve read a few suggestions that it’s been screened (to modest acclaim) on the film festival circuit. In those cases in the past, I’ve generally been able to find a handful of reviews and/or cast or creative interviews when I’ve felt the need to know a bit more about the production. However, this one is only mentioned in passing, and I’m not seeing a great deal of praise though a good handful of smilers express appreciation for what writer and director Luca Canale Brucculeri accomplishes visually. I’d concur minimally that some bits and pieces do look and sound interesting (at best), but overall Lenskeeper feels more like an homage to what’s been tried before in Horror’s elitist circles and – even then – not very good deference.
At the outset, Brucculeri’s script relies heavily on two different narrative techniques: begin with a flash of curiously gothic visuals only then to segue way into the standard police procedural where two detectives try to uncover ‘what went wrong’ – via flashback – with the blood-soaked young physician Jane Doe (played effectively by Diamara Ferrero) when she turns up wandering the streets in confusion. What follows is a bit too conveniently recovered (there are whole sequences wherein she wasn’t even in the room to witness a great deal of what she recalls), so Lenskeeper winds up feeling far too much like a screenwriter’s creation that definitely needed another pair of eyes than Brucculeri’s to identify the small onslaught of problems. And there are a few.
What does work therein are some of the obvious callbacks to just about any film that’s dabbled in the works of H.P. Lovecraft. One sequence definitely reminds me of a few things accomplished in Hellraiser (1987) under Clive Barker’s watchful management. The chief difference here is that where projects like Stuart Gordon’s From Beyond (1986) went all-in with some direct Body Horror, Brucculeri really only dabbles with it, almost as if he’s flirting with his audience, hoping that they might not remember how much of what he’s doing has been done before and much better. There’s nothing wrong with revisiting such graphic details, but why go less when the years of technology between this and then should have you going bigger?
Otherwise, the ensemble of actors and actresses similarly work together well enough to harken back to times when such cohesion was accomplished with greater rewards in other films. The police procedural works as designed, but the two police officers are both a bit dour in the way they handle themselves with no spark whatsoever between the two. All of this builds to a conclusion that doesn’t mean much without a follow-up or sequel unless it’s now acceptable to just end on a note that suggests the baton has been passed from one generation to the next without proving anyone is really picking up the mantle. I guess – as is the case in life – only time will tell.
Undoubtedly, a shorter running-time would’ve helped Lenskeeper and its audience stay focused. Too many scenes with a single camera take stretch on ridiculously long, butchering what modest impact the sequence had to begin with if not suggesting that we’re only lingering on because someone forgot his or her line. It’s been said that the best chillers rarely screen for over ninety minutes; and this one – at an ungodly 110 minutes – is just too damn lengthy.
Lenskeeper (2025) – aka Lenskeeper: Alle porte dell’abisso – was produced by Sancapross Movie and May Film Production. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been handled by the fine folks at Cosmic Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure readers that – for the most part – the provided sights and sounds are good: a few sequences rely heavily on some quick flashing visuals backed up by some curious sounds, and one or two of them felt a bit clumsy for my tastes. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? This is a bare bones release – meaning there’s nothing extra available – so you’ll have to look elsewhere for those tidbits.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
Certainly, I won’t begrudge any storyteller for trying to tap into some fertile territory when it comes to crafting homages to some of what’s come before; and yet the problem with Lenskeeper (2025) almost lies entirely with writer/director Brucculeri’s technique. Long and relatively dry takes need to thematically mean something more than they do here; and the lethargic pacing never allows even its small ensemble of characters to do all that much with the limited material they’re given. Though a few sequences obviously work very well and there’s nothing much wrong with the narrative set-up, there otherwise just isn’t enough substance here for viewers to ‘latch onto’ here other than the allusions to H.P. Lovecraft and Clive Barker (the most obvious ones) and, probably, a handful of giallo’s better auteurs. A definite slog although some may find it more entertaining than I did.
In the interest of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Cosmic Films (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Lenskeeper (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
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A blood-covered woman is found wandering at night with no memory of what happened. Under interrogation, her fragmented story reveals visions and encounters where reality merges with the monstrous.”
You’ll have to take my word for this: Lenskeeper is most likely going to go down in cult film circles as an acquired taste.
To my surprise, I’ve found very little about the release online; and I say this because I’ve read a few suggestions that it’s been screened (to modest acclaim) on the film festival circuit. In those cases in the past, I’ve generally been able to find a handful of reviews and/or cast or creative interviews when I’ve felt the need to know a bit more about the production. However, this one is only mentioned in passing, and I’m not seeing a great deal of praise though a good handful of smilers express appreciation for what writer and director Luca Canale Brucculeri accomplishes visually. I’d concur minimally that some bits and pieces do look and sound interesting (at best), but overall Lenskeeper feels more like an homage to what’s been tried before in Horror’s elitist circles and – even then – not very good deference.
At the outset, Brucculeri’s script relies heavily on two different narrative techniques: begin with a flash of curiously gothic visuals only then to segue way into the standard police procedural where two detectives try to uncover ‘what went wrong’ – via flashback – with the blood-soaked young physician Jane Doe (played effectively by Diamara Ferrero) when she turns up wandering the streets in confusion. What follows is a bit too conveniently recovered (there are whole sequences wherein she wasn’t even in the room to witness a great deal of what she recalls), so Lenskeeper winds up feeling far too much like a screenwriter’s creation that definitely needed another pair of eyes than Brucculeri’s to identify the small onslaught of problems. And there are a few.
What does work therein are some of the obvious callbacks to just about any film that’s dabbled in the works of H.P. Lovecraft. One sequence definitely reminds me of a few things accomplished in Hellraiser (1987) under Clive Barker’s watchful management. The chief difference here is that where projects like Stuart Gordon’s From Beyond (1986) went all-in with some direct Body Horror, Brucculeri really only dabbles with it, almost as if he’s flirting with his audience, hoping that they might not remember how much of what he’s doing has been done before and much better. There’s nothing wrong with revisiting such graphic details, but why go less when the years of technology between this and then should have you going bigger?
Otherwise, the ensemble of actors and actresses similarly work together well enough to harken back to times when such cohesion was accomplished with greater rewards in other films. The police procedural works as designed, but the two police officers are both a bit dour in the way they handle themselves with no spark whatsoever between the two. All of this builds to a conclusion that doesn’t mean much without a follow-up or sequel unless it’s now acceptable to just end on a note that suggests the baton has been passed from one generation to the next without proving anyone is really picking up the mantle. I guess – as is the case in life – only time will tell.
Undoubtedly, a shorter running-time would’ve helped Lenskeeper and its audience stay focused. Too many scenes with a single camera take stretch on ridiculously long, butchering what modest impact the sequence had to begin with if not suggesting that we’re only lingering on because someone forgot his or her line. It’s been said that the best chillers rarely screen for over ninety minutes; and this one – at an ungodly 110 minutes – is just too damn lengthy.
Lenskeeper (2025) – aka Lenskeeper: Alle porte dell’abisso – was produced by Sancapross Movie and May Film Production. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been handled by the fine folks at Cosmic Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure readers that – for the most part – the provided sights and sounds are good: a few sequences rely heavily on some quick flashing visuals backed up by some curious sounds, and one or two of them felt a bit clumsy for my tastes. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? This is a bare bones release – meaning there’s nothing extra available – so you’ll have to look elsewhere for those tidbits.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
Certainly, I won’t begrudge any storyteller for trying to tap into some fertile territory when it comes to crafting homages to some of what’s come before; and yet the problem with Lenskeeper (2025) almost lies entirely with writer/director Brucculeri’s technique. Long and relatively dry takes need to thematically mean something more than they do here; and the lethargic pacing never allows even its small ensemble of characters to do all that much with the limited material they’re given. Though a few sequences obviously work very well and there’s nothing much wrong with the narrative set-up, there otherwise just isn’t enough substance here for viewers to ‘latch onto’ here other than the allusions to H.P. Lovecraft and Clive Barker (the most obvious ones) and, probably, a handful of giallo’s better auteurs. A definite slog although some may find it more entertaining than I did.
In the interest of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Cosmic Films (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Lenskeeper (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
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