Exploitative new release copies an existing format and takes its inspirations from real tragedy

The concept of Tai Hong (meaning "those who die a violent death") is to adapt the most sensational and gruesome murders reported in tabloid papers into a crass ensemble of four short films.

Mai Charoenpura plays a trash-talking prostitute in the new horror film Tai Hong.

It makes no attempt at subtlety or guile, not to mention the fact that producing a package of four horror shorts is obviously a copycat of the scarier 4 Praeng (4bia). Tai Hong feeds on the grotesque and the gross, its trashy appeal genuine yet unsatisfactory.

Consider the four stories and see if they flirt precariously with double-victimisation. First, the Santika pub fire on the New Year's Eve of 2008 has been turned into a tale of two lovers who refuse to be undone by death; its showpiece scene is a reimagination of that horrible tragedy which killed 66 people.

Second, the story of an inmate who hangs himself in his cell. Third, the gruesome murder of a woman whose body is dumped in a water tank above a building. And lastly, murders in a short-time motel are adapted into a horror slapstick starring Mai Charoenpura as a plump, garish, trash-talking streetwalker.

There are only shocks, not fear; only thummmmmp!!! sound cues, not sinuous terror that would leave us shuddering. The characters - even in the first episode, the emotional story of a self-combustible woman and her boyfriend - exist only as strawmen to be spooked, tormented, even crushed.

I suppose the running theme of the four stories is guilt; a score that can only be settled by violent death. But given that, to an extent, the filmmakers exploit the lives of real people in their endeavours, they have made no attempt to humanise them with personalities, or at least sensible motives.

What's worth noting is that three of the four shorts - veteran Poj Anon's episode being the exception - were made by three young and promising directors, namely Chatchai Ketnut, Manus Worasingha, and Tanwarin Sukpisith. They may treat this stale exploit in the horror genre as a training ground to hone their talents; as unrepresentative early opuses. Fair enough, and in that case I really hope they will find their true calling next time.

In Tai Hong, the young directors show that they can conjure mood, but they need to wet their fangs for sharpness and conviction. And most importantly, they need to find their personal voices.