Cherise Huntingford

That’s me, self-confessed alliteration addict, born ‘n raised in the ‘hood of South Africa. Got a psych degree, but instead spent the better part of three years educating blank-faced teenagers on the implied homosexuality in Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice and the blasphemy of mediocrity. I then ditched my hometown, spent an eight-month stint in a French village that stirred impulses to burst into song about hills being alive (with the sound of music) and wound up in London, the pit of glorious iniquity.

Latest Articles

31 October 2011 5:24pm

Deadtime Stories Volume 1

George A. Romero, Godfather of living dead men and big, bad rep behind Night, Day and Dawn of zombie cinema is probably Deadtime Stories' sole draw-card, and no doubt the only thing to compel any compos mentis horror fan to suffer through its bore/gorefest ridiculousness.

04 October 2011 4:17pm

And Soon The Darkness

Two American girls become separated on a biking trip through the remote backroads of rural Argentina. Cue cautionary tale slathered with a healthy ol’ dose of girl-on-girl gore? Not quite. Beyond an opening scene vaguely suggestive of electrocution, and a (more tortuous) rendition of the Divinyls’ 'I Touch Myself' this is, by no means, the material from which to get one’s bloodlusty jollies.

22 July 2011 3:43pm

Lake Mungo

A ghost story by design and a human drama at its core, Lake Mungo explores the painful psychology of loss, and our collective inability to explain the blurred space between life and death. It's rather good.

06 June 2011 6:42pm

Fertile Ground

A straight-to-DVD prize, where perinatal horror and unnaturally large nipples eclipse murder, paranoia and preternatural possession into insignificant mundanity. There's little else to say, really, except to ask if we really needed another reason to fear the gory joys of pregnancy?

11 May 2011 12:53pm

Kim Newman and Mark Kermode in conversation at the BFI

While legions of Britons celebrated the monarchical nuptials via half-price champers ‘n cucumber-sandwiched exercises in vicariousness, April 29th saw a dissenting faction hanging with the real royalty - in an evening enchanted by torture-porn vignettes, the virtues of Driller Killer(s) and a good ol' 70s creepshow…