Calendar An icon of a desk calendar. Cancel An icon of a circle with a diagonal line across. Caret An icon of a block arrow pointing to the right. Email An icon of a paper envelope. Facebook An icon of the Facebook "f" mark. Google An icon of the Google "G" mark. Linked In An icon of the Linked In "in" mark. Logout An icon representing logout. Profile An icon that resembles human head and shoulders. Telephone An icon of a traditional telephone receiver. Tick An icon of a tick mark. Is Public An icon of a human eye and eyelashes. Is Not Public An icon of a human eye and eyelashes with a diagonal line through it. Pause Icon A two-lined pause icon for stopping interactions. Quote Mark A opening quote mark. Quote Mark A closing quote mark. Arrow An icon of an arrow. Folder An icon of a paper folder. Breaking An icon of an exclamation mark on a circular background. Camera An icon of a digital camera. Caret An icon of a caret arrow. Clock An icon of a clock face. Close An icon of the an X shape. Close Icon An icon used to represent where to interact to collapse or dismiss a component Comment An icon of a speech bubble. Comments An icon of a speech bubble, denoting user comments. Comments An icon of a speech bubble, denoting user comments. Ellipsis An icon of 3 horizontal dots. Envelope An icon of a paper envelope. Facebook An icon of a facebook f logo. Camera An icon of a digital camera. Home An icon of a house. Instagram An icon of the Instagram logo. LinkedIn An icon of the LinkedIn logo. Magnifying Glass An icon of a magnifying glass. Search Icon A magnifying glass icon that is used to represent the function of searching. Menu An icon of 3 horizontal lines. Hamburger Menu Icon An icon used to represent a collapsed menu. Next An icon of an arrow pointing to the right. Notice An explanation mark centred inside a circle. Previous An icon of an arrow pointing to the left. Rating An icon of a star. Tag An icon of a tag. Twitter An icon of the Twitter logo. Video Camera An icon of a video camera shape. Speech Bubble Icon A icon displaying a speech bubble WhatsApp An icon of the WhatsApp logo. Information An icon of an information logo. Plus A mathematical 'plus' symbol. Duration An icon indicating Time. Success Tick An icon of a green tick. Success Tick Timeout An icon of a greyed out success tick. Loading Spinner An icon of a loading spinner. Facebook Messenger An icon of the facebook messenger app logo. Facebook An icon of a facebook f logo. Facebook Messenger An icon of the Twitter app logo. LinkedIn An icon of the LinkedIn logo. WhatsApp Messenger An icon of the Whatsapp messenger app logo. Email An icon of an mail envelope. Copy link A decentered black square over a white square.

TV review: Netflix’s Fear Street could be gateway drug for future horror freaks

Fear Street Part 1: 1994.
Fear Street Part 1: 1994.

In years to come, I wonder how many hardcore horror fans will look back on Netflix’s new Fear Street films and fondly remember them as the gateway drug into the world of scary movies.

With blood, guts, swearing and even an 18 certificate, Fear Street Part One: 1994 is like the edgy cousin of Stranger Things and feels as though it has been precision-engineered to be enjoyed by 13-year-olds on sleepovers.

It’s all a bit of an experiment on Netflix’s part. Over three weeks it’s releasing three Fear Street films, each paying homage to different types of horror movies – Part One 90s slashers, Part Two summer camp slashers, and Part Three historic horror.

All three are set in the death-plagued Ohio town of Shadyside, and trace its spooky supernatural roots all the way back to 1666.

Fear Street Part 1: 1994.

Although Part One is gleefully tongue-in-cheek, our teen heroes, who we’re supposed to root for, are some of the most unlikeable irritants you could ever have the misfortune to meet. If there’s one consolation, it’s that not all of them make it to the end alive – and one in particular dies in such a grisly way I positively cackled.

But it feels churlish to criticise Fear Street too harshly, because I’m clearly not the target demo. Similarly, comparing the series to (admittedly better) films of the past misses the point completely.

These feel like the perfect introduction to the world of horror for young teens. They’re scary enough and gory enough that kids won’t feel short-changed, but at the same time not so dark and disturbing that parents need worry they’ll be scarred for life.

For some of you, I’m sure the idea letting kids see a film with so much violence is as horrifying a prospect as the film itself, but if you’re raising a future horror buff they’ll see that stuff anyway and this feels like the lesser of two evils.

Money programme had little value

As easy to watch as Kathy Burke is as a presenter, I don’t think her Money Talks programme on Channel 4 was all that successful in looking at wealth.

I could have watched a whole hour of her reminiscing with old pals Harry Enfield and Paul Whitehouse, but they were just rolled out for a few minutes at the start to speak about their Loadsamoney character from the 1980s.

Kathy Burke in Money Talks

The rest was similarly perfunctory – interviews with rich people and poor people, none of which really examined the issue in a meaningful way.

During the show, Kathy said that TV is one of the main ways she makes money.

I wonder that’s all this was – a money-spinning exercise.

Fascinating murder mystery

The fact I’d never heard of the murder of Sophie Toscan du Plantier before probably explains why the new three-part Netflix series about her death was so engrossing.

Sophie: A Murder in West Cork feels very much like a real-life version of Broadchurch, with its coastal setting, shocking murder and a supporting cast of quirky locals who could all be possible suspects.

Sophie Toscan du Plantier

The fact her murder is still unsolved made me fear this would be a rather unsatisfying watch, but it doesn’t play out like that at all.

Anyone with half a brain knows whodunnit – unfortunately, the Irish legal system has failed her family at every turn.

Parents asked tough questions

The boundaries of a parent’s unconditional for their child were laid bare in the sensitive and – crucially – non-judgmental Storyville documentary Raising A School Shooter (BBC4) this week.

Three parents – including the mum of Columbine killer Dylan Klebold – bravely opened up about their overwhelming guilt about what their children had done and the warning signs they may have missed.

Films of the week: The Richard Donner collection (Sky Movies and On Demand)

Richard Donner may not be a household name like some directors, but his impact on a generation of film fans is just as profound as Spielberg or Lucas or Hitchcock or Tarantino.

He died on Monday at the grand old age of 91 but leaves behind a legacy of films that shaped the conversation during the era in which they were made.

Richard Donner died aged 91. Photo by Matt Baron/Shutterstock

After the success of The Omen in 1976, he helped usher in the modern blockbuster with Superman in 1978 before directing one of the most adored films of the 80s, The Goonies.

Proving that he could master any genre he turned Mel Gibson into a fully-fledged star with the proto-buddy cop thriller Lethal Weapon – and its sequels – and put Scrooged with Bill Murray on the list of all-time great Christmas movies.

He was an all-time great too and will be greatly missed.