Q&A with Cast & Crew - featuring artist Graham Humphreys, actor Reece Sheersmith, journalist Cathi Unsworth, director Chris Collier moderated by journalist Mike Muncer (Evolution of Horror)

An intimate documentary about Graham Humphreys, the UK’s most iconic horror illustrator—the man behind the original posters for The Evil Dead, A Nightmare on Elm Street, and countless other films that defined a generation of horror cinema.

Told entirely in Graham’s own words through conversations with Reece Shearsmith, Andy Nyman, and Alan Jones, the film traces his journey from childhood obsessions to becoming one of the most celebrated visual artists in horror.
With an opportunity to take some signed posters/prints.

Anton Bitel “A compelling picture of creativity on the margins.”

Andy Nyman “Utterly delightful.”

Kim Newman "Full of warmth and enthusiasm.”

★★★★★ - Starburst (Martin Unsworth) “A warmly engaging portrait… a national treasure.”

Funeral Parade is proud to present Young Soul Rebels, Isaac Julien’s queer cult classic about funk, punk, and coming of age in late ‘70s London.

The year is 1977, the Queen's Silver Jubilee is fast approaching, and DJs Chris (Valentine Nonyela) and Caz (Mo Sesay) are bringing the sounds of soul, disco, and funk to London’s airwaves with Soul Patrol, the pirate radio station they operate from an East End garage. After the death of their friend, who is killed during a night-time cruise in the park, the pair find themselves implicated in the murder when Chris comes into possession of a cassette tape which contains a recording of the killer’s voice. Meanwhile, Caz is falling head over heels for punk rocker Billibud (Jason Durr), even as omnipresent homophobia and racial tensions threaten to pull the young lovers apart. A unique blend of thriller, social realism, and the ‘hangout movie’, Young Soul Rebels is vibrant celebration of music and youth culture, as well as a vital comment on the UK’s deep-seated divisions.

This widely acclaimed film from Soviet director Elem Klimov is a stunning, senses-shattering plunge into the dehumanizing horrors of war. As Nazi forces encroach on his small village in present-day Belarus, teenage Flyora (Aleksei Kravchenko, in one of the screen’s most searing depictions of anguish since Renée Falconetti’s Joan of Arc) eagerly joins the Soviet resistance. Rather than the adventure and glory he envisioned, what he finds is a waking nightmare of unimaginable carnage and cruelty—rendered with a feverish, otherworldly intensity by Klimov’s subjective camerawork and expressionistic sound design. Nearly suppressed by Soviet censors who took eight years to approve its script, Come and See is perhaps the most visceral, impossible-to-forget antiwar film ever made.

Vahid, an Azerbaijani auto mechanic, was once imprisoned by Iranian authorities. During his sentence, he was interrogated blindfolded. One day, a man named Eqbal enters his workshop. His prosthetic leg creaks, and Vahid thinks he recognizes one of his former torturers.