The Seasoning House review

From debut director Paul Hyett, whose imaginative prosthetics grace The Descent and more, comes a horror film of two halves: the first squalid and hard to stomach, the second surreal and hard to take seriously.

In a war-torn Balkans brothel run by the charismatic Kevin Howarth, deaf-mute trustee Rosie Day administers heroin to the trafficked teenagers while dreaming of escape as, no doubt, will you.


Proceedings turns from grim to Grimm when big-bad-wolf army officer Sean Pertwee arrives, but after some of the nastiness earlier shown, it’s hard to believe in fairytales.



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