If Hollywood is to be believed, being in the the Navy is nothing but a bludge. Though the sailors may complain in chorus about the monotony of the ocean, it seems that their oceanic duties are completely non-existent, and somehow Fred Astaire finds enough free time during the day to offer dancing classes to a fleet of would-be romantics. Such is the world of Astaire and Rogers. Mark Sandrich's previous film, 'Top Hat (1935),' completely ignored the Great Depression that was then bringing America to its knees, and presented audiences with a glittering world of the rich and famous; it was the film's optimistic outlook on life that perhaps contributed to its success. Likewise, here Sandrich deliberately forgets that the life of a Naval officer is difficult and draining, and instead substitutes the duties of a sailor with an assortment of catchy lightweight musical numbers.
"Bake" Baker (Astaire) and Sherry Martin (Rogers) are two former dance partners whose romantic relationship fell apart after the latter rejected a marriage proposal. After Bake returns from several years of duty in the Navy, he finds Sherry as dance hostess in an unsophisticated San Francisco ballroom. While the two former lovers alternately attempt to woo and rebuff each other, Sherry's plain, music-teacher sister (Harriet Hilliard, looking really quite pretty) receives a complete makeover and tries to charm superficial sailor Bilge "Bilgey" Smith (Randolph Scott). There are plenty of the usual screwball comedy shenanigans, a few moments of mistaken identity, and even a hilarious trained monkey that steals every scene it's in. Particularly amusing is the scene in which Bake sabotages a performer's audition in order to create a window for his estranged girl; unluckily for both of them, it is an unfortunate Sherry who drinks the bicarbonate of soda and loses her ability to sing.
'Follow the Fleet (1936)' was the fifth winning collaboration between Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, and the third (of five) in which Sandrich directed the pair. Irving Berlin provided the film's music and lyrics, and each musical number is enjoyably lighthearted and entertaining, even if they aren't quite as memorable as those in 'Top Hat (1935),' 'Swing Time (1936)' or 'Shall We Dance (1937).' Astaire attempts to break free from his typical rich-man-about-town persona, without much success, but it's hard to imagine the performer without the boyish carefree charm that could only accompany being considerably wealthy. The side-plot of the romance between Connie and Bilge works well with the antics of the two main stars, and Harriet Hilliard (wearing a brunette wig to avoid clashing with Ginger's blonde hair) has a couple of emotional solo numbers, including "Get Thee Behind Me Satan," which was originally written for 'Top Hat.'

Cradle of Fear
This isn't a movie where intricate delicate little narrative nuances occupy our attention. This is not a film where the special effects are supposed to leave us slack-jacked uttering that sense of whoa. What it is though is a slice of lo-fi goth horror which leaves little to the imagination, created in the eyes of the director, Alex Chandon, as "a throwback to sleazy '70s and '80s horror".
This is a very visceral experience for 2 hours, where four plot lines are connected through lots of watery blood, reams of dismembered body parts and innards, tied by an intestinal thread of revenge.
The purveyor of such horrific violence is Dani Filth, lead-singer of the metal band Cradle of Filth, executing a role he was destined to play.
As other's have said, there is nothing new about wanting to carryout occultist revenge. In this particular context a convicted sexual predator and murderer, Kemper, the father of our devilish avenging-angel, compels his son to exact retribution on those who are some how connected to convicting him to purgatory within an insane asylum.
What this provides for the Chandon, who should be congratulated on also penning and editing this piece, is the opportunity to let his sick mind run free. He seems to take delight in the idea of splattering blood into the orifices of those on screen, and into every nook and cranny that can be reached. We are also treated to close-ups of skull's being crushed, demonic rape, and other assorted imagery to engage those who relish getting up close and personal to their horror. And for some of those who closely follow these type of films, there is the odd sequence which may have you thinking, "Did I just see what I thought I did", because of course Pretty Woman this 'aint. It reminds me of some of the gore-fests created out of Italian horror some 20 to 30 years ago, and a number of other works where disgusting images have left their mark but not the context in which they were viewed.
Story 4 of the set is particularly intriguing where the idea of ones obsession can ultimately lead to death in the pursuit of internet violence through the "Sick Room", where the user is in control of how a life can be snuffed out. Further acknowledgements should also go out to a pounding soundtrack that allows Filth to exercise his daytime talent, and an effective use of drum and bass, often overlooked in film-making as a viable form of supporting visuals. Using the city of London as a backdrop with real people as opposed to movie stand-ins also adds support to the commando feel of the film. OK, classic it may not be, but blood, guts, intestines, occult and demons in a slightly perverse unproblematic way it is.