This Icelandic film is worth a watch, especially if you dig glacially paced, detached weirdness drenched in fog and earth tones.
Part dark fairy tale, part folk horror, and part farm noir, it is a slow-burn meditation on familial bonds.
PS: Sheep are freaky AF; I can totally see why Satan adopted them as his animal familar...
RIYL: The Green Knight; Antichrist
Rating: 3.5/5
The Short Take:
The new Bond film is kind of bland and rather anti-climatic.
It's not that it's bad, but rather a mediocre pastiche of previous Bond films, specifically On Her Majesty's Secret ServiceOn Her Majesty's, extracts from You Only Live Twice (the novel), and Daniel Craig channeling Connery and Moore.
The story is kind of ho-hum, the villain is lackluster, not enough is done with the new 00--who, btw, is badass--and the ending is thick with maudlin melodrama.
The est part of the film is a sequence taking place in Cuba; Ana de Armas for the win!
I feel that the filmmakers tried too hard to appeal to Bond diehards, but ultimately their collective Walther PPK got jammed up.
Rating: 3/5
Screenwriter/director Julia Ducournau’s sophomore effort won The Palme d’Or at the 2021 Cannes Film Festival. Which just goes to prove that not only are the French adept at making fucked-up films, they are also adept at enjoying them.
Titane is a difficult film; difficult to watch, difficult to grasp. On the one hand it’s a gonzo Greek tragedy. On the other, it’s a Shakespearean mistaken identity melodrama soaked in petrol and dizzy off of exhaust fumes.
One thing for certain: it’s never not engaging.
Whereas Ducournau’s 2016 debut, Raw, was a twisted coming-of-age story, here she throws a head-spinning array of ideas into the mix. There’s incestual innuendo, hints of homoeroticism, body-horror-meets-womb-horror, feints of Fregoli, steroidal rage, mechanophilia, serial killings, and imposter syndrome fallout, just to name a few of the myriad and deranged themes the story appropriates and hugs tightly to its chest.
The film comes out the gate with a wash of visceral violence that had me cringing, squirming, and muttering “what-the-fuck-what-the-fuck-what-the-fuck?!?” more than once. Then it dips into a strange and unnerving familial drama taking place at a firestation. To say any more would ruin the experience of watching it yourself.
I’m still trying to wrap my head around the entire thing, but I feel that at its core it’s a rumination on loss, getting old, loving cars, and hating your parents. I think.
RIYL: Irreversible; Dead Ringers; Annette
Rating: 3.5/5
I saw the new, re-envisioned Candyman today.
I had been hella hesitant to see it as the original is one of my favorite horror films.
Since it was leaving my "local" cinemas today (I have to drive at least 37 miles to the nearest cineplex), I rallied and hit an early showing.
Glad I did.
Plus I had the theater to myself!
The film follows suit with the latest Halloween entries in that it is a direct sequel to the original, thus crushing any canonical continuity to Candymans 2 and 3.
The new creative team did a good job, unleashing a serious B-movie wrapped in pseudo arthouse pretenses.
Lottsa subtext (some subtle, some overt as fiznuck) ranging from the subjects of gentrification to the need for folklore and knowing one's history.
Some really great imagery and framing of shots run throughout and the use of shadow puppetry is fantastic; it helps ground the film in not only folklore, but also urban legends.
The score and sound design are really cool, too; extremely immersive and adding to the overal vibe of the film.
While there are a few slash-and-gush moments, for the most part the film goes for implied gore, relying more on Hitchcockian techniques than in-yer-face splatter.
On the downside, the third act kinda falls apart and feels rushed, plus there is some skimping on exposition and character development. It actually would have benefited from another 15-30 minutes of run time, imho .
Yet despite the somewhat wobbly finale, all in all it's a worthy successor/continuation to the 1992 original.
Rating: 3.5/5
Paul Schrader 's (screenwriter of Taxi Drivef, Raging Bull, and others) latest effort is a thematic and genre mash-up covering neon noir, hitman-with-a-heart-of-gold, hustler/mentor, and revenge territory.
Delivered in a steadily paced manner with a decidedly detached aura, the film is teeming with nuance and slow-burn tension. A fantastic score and plenty of saturated scenery only add to the overall ambiance.
Oscar Isaac gives a wonderfully understated and tense performance. Tiffany Haddish is a little bit awkward, but delivers some great lines and is really good at seductively drinking drinks and strutting in high heels. Tye Sheridan holds his own. Willem Dafoe makes a cameo.
The score, by Robert Levon Been of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, wavers between ethereal and visceral, adding substantial nuance to the overall mood and flow of the film. [Interesting trivia: Robert Levon Been is the son of Michael Been, former bassist/vocalist of The Call. Michael scored Schrader's 1992 film Light Sleeper, which also featured Willem Dafoe].
RIYL: First Reformed, The Hard Eight, The Color of Money
Rating: 4/5
How can a film which is essentially about a small group of individuals all interviewing for the same “job” be engaging, never mind entertaining? The answer is simple: by presenting a provocative story delivered by a fantastic ensemble cast.
On the surface, the applicants spend nine days being interviewed, during which time they discuss such diverse topics as morality, compassion, anger, sadness, joy, suicide, and what it means to truly be “alive.” Throughout the course of the film many other subjects are touched upon, subjects that will cause one to wonder about the meaning of life. Okay, so perhaps it sounds a bit more like a collegiate lecture than an entertaining film, but thanks to a wonderful cast and crisp direction, the film manages to amuse as well as provoke.
Rendered in a stark manner that emphasizes characters over action and locale (here it’s a barren clay desert on which sits a solitary frontier styled house), Nine Days offers up a lot of metaphysical food for thought. Yet despite all its inherent headiness, it narrowly avoids getting overly bogged down. Sure, sometimes the sheer amount of ideas being unleashed can feel as if you are being bombarded by an earnest mishmash of Psych 101, Sociology 101, Humanities 101, Philosophy 101, and Ethics 101, culled together into a broad reaching Cliff’s Notes on the key subjects from those courses; at times it feels as if writer/director Edson Oda is trying to cover too much ground, forcing too many ideas on us all at once. It can be a bit overwhelming, to be honest.
The assembled cast, however, overcomes this seemingly never-ending barrage and helps to keep things grounded. At the core is a wonderfull tour de force from Winston Duke as “Will”, the interviewer. The ever-beguiling Zazie Beets gives a captivating performance as the wild-eyed and inquisitive “Emma.” Rounding out the cast is the jovial, yet wise presence of Benedict Wong, the even-keeled delivery of BIll Skarsgard, a hyperactive blast from Tony Hale, and quiet, sensitive turns from both David Rysdahl and Arianna Ortiz.
Nine Days will keep your mind reeling and drifting off into myriad thought provoking tangents, but it should also entertain you thanks to the sheer bravado of the actors involved and the finely tuned nuances of the story itself.
IMHO, The Suicide Squad is the only summer blockbuster of 2021 worth risking a trip to the local cineplex for.
I laughed.
I cried.
I gasped.
I sighed.
I was teetering on the edge of my seat most of the time.
I would have to say, this film is gonzo sublime.
Seriously, though, somebody in Hollywood needs to pass a moratorium on comic book movies unless James Gunn is the one to write and direct every cinematic adaptation hence forth. Dude gets the medium better than anyone else, so far.
In structure, Gunn’s stab at The Suicide Squad has been drawing not-without-merit comparisons to his Guardians of the Galaxy films. Yet, honestly, this film has more in common with The Magnificent Seven than Guardians; it’s about a group of outlaws who come to the rescue of a small country caught under the thumb of a ruthless dictator. This comparison also helps because there are 7 members in this incarnation of The Squad. But, yeah, it does have many of the same comedic beats as Guardians, so there is that.
Here, as with his work on GOTG, Gunn showcases his mastery of what I have deemed “The Three S’s”: Satire, Seriousness, and Sap.
When it comes to the funny, Gunn nails Satire and just about every other comedic element you can think of. He understands irony, broad humor, and puerile schtick (how else to describe John Cena striking a Charles Atlas pose wearing tighty whiteys while his bulging nut-sack is barely contained within the strained confines of the skimpy fabric? It's an image that makes Marky Mark’s Calvin Klein underwear ads pale in comparison). Furthermore, Gunn seems to be able to corral that most elusive of comedic elements: camp. This is predominantly revealed in a couple of Harley Quinn sequences featuring flowers and colorful parakeets.
Yet for every yuck and guffaw, Gunn manages to contrast all the quirky humor with well-tempered strains of Seriousness. He inserts moments of somber reflection into the film here and there, just enough to keep things grounded. Plus his use of so-called “serious actors” is pretty great. Sure, he “inherited” Viola Davis from the previous film, but he really taps into her take on the Squad’s dubious leader. He also adds a heightened sense of importance to the proceedings thanks to the presence of the highly regarded thespian mannerisms of Idris Elba, Playing it mostly straight, Elba’s Bloodsport helps to juxtapose the chaos and chicanery of characters like Margot Robbie’s Harley Quinn. Likewise, Daniela Melchior’s subdued take on Ratcatcher 2 lends an extra emotional depth to the story.
And finally, there’s Sap (or Sentimentality, if you prefer). I’m not gonna lie, I’ve cried every time I’ve seen Guardians of the Galaxy 2. And my tear ducts got partially cleaned out more than once during this film’s 2-hour plus runtime. Gunn knows how to craft dialogue and situations that pull at your heartstrings, yet don’t feel the least bit manipulative or contrived. Conversely, a film like F9, whose whole franchise has pushed the notion of “family”, has taken that concept and turned it into a limp cliche. Somehow Gunn manages to instill his familial elements with heart and soul and they resonate with a realness that may have existed in the early films of the Fast and Furious, but now just feel highly manufactured.
While Gunn’s command of “The Three S’s,” forms the crux of the film’s heart and soul, it is also his firm grasp on what I am calling “The Two P’s” which is ultimately the glue that holds everything together. His sense of Pacing is fantastic. The story moves along briskly, but it also knows when to Pull back and when to Push forward. And his Plot has Purpose (Okay, perhaps it’s the “Five P’s.” We’re mostly concerned with “Pacing” and :Purpose” here; the other “P’s” are bonus. But I digress). When the eventual “Big Battle/Cataclysmic Cosmopolitan Destruction” is unleashed in the third act it doesn’t feel like he’s forcing that inevitable action piece down our throats. It’s also gloriously restrained in comparison to other superhero team battles. To wit, he never tosses over-blown and mind-numbingly gratuitous CGI-candy at us like so many other directors do in films of this ilk. Instead, the final boss battle has a purpose (and dare I say, poise?) and fits nicely into the rest of the film.
Gunn also has a wonderful knack of being able to play to your standard audience and nerd circle fanboys, simultaneously, without pandering to either. He pays homage to comic book masters such as Will Eisner and Jim Steranko (his use of clever interstitial scenes to denote the “chapters’ of the film, for example), as well as riffing on Disney classics like Snow White. Even if you don’t get all of the references (undoubtedly I missed many), they’re still cool. And when he tosses out scenes that are drenched in déjà vu--a Harley Quinn crimson dress ballet of bullets, for example--they come of as fresh homage rather than derivative rip-off.
Another thing he has done well is to make anthropomorphic and monosyllabic characters seem very real and very human. He did this with Rocket, Groot, and Drax in Guardians and here he does it with King Shark and Sebastian the rat. Furthermore, the level of realism that is reached here with the CG is rather amazing; then again focusing the CG on non-human characters certainly helps to diminish any uncanny valley elements. It is a testament to his script writing and directing skills that a stumpy, lumbering CG shark-man-god is just as compelling as his actual human counterparts.
Then there’s the soniference that saturates the soundtrack (Oh shit, more “S’s”!). As with GOTG, music plays a large role in the overall make-up of The Suicide Squad. And while Gunn’s song choices may not be quite of Quentin Tarantino level, he still knows how and where to place a song to evoke mood, humor, and emotion.
All of this said, there are a few missteps. Most prominently is the “happy” ending, which seems at odds with the whole Suicide Squad schtick. And then there is the obligatory post-credit sequence. Here it sets things up for an already green-lit HBO Max series starring John Cena. These, thankfully, are the only real moments of cash-grabbing disingenuousness in the whole film, so kudos to that but I, for one, would have been really stoked with a much darker ending.
Anywho, all the other directors of comic book films (and heck, even the crew behind the Fast & Furious franchise) should be snatching pages from Gunn’s playbook; then again, perhaps not. In the course of his three “comic book” films, Gunn has positioned himself as the singular talent in the over saturated superhero cinematic realm and it would be a shame to have a bunch of watered down copycats filling the cineplexes with even more dreck than usual.
When all is said and done and the end credits are done rolling, The Suicide Squad reveals itself to be a wonderfully wacky and snarkily smart ride filled with chills, thrills, tears, and moments of oddball joy. Oh, and it’s smack jammed with plenty of good old ultra-violence and just the right amount of absurdity. In short, it’s everything you want-- and need--in a comic book movie.
David Lowrey's (The Old Man & The Gun) latest cinematic endeavor is something of a departure for him as he takes leave of American shores and modern timelines to deliver a dream-like take on an Arthurian legend.
The film unfolds in a languid manner, which threatens to teeter on the edge of tedium at times, but is never not visually arresting. There are constantly things happening out of frame or just out of focus in the background, tugging one's eyes away from the main action; so much so that it warrants a second and even perhaps a third viewing.
As for the story itself, a rather straight forward quest becomes an ambiguous and at times quietly meditative journey filled with strange encounters and odd visages. Then the ending comes and whomps you upside the head like a rusty broad sword, leaving you slightly dazed and wondering what it was all about. Is it ultimately an examination of integrity? A deep dive into the concept of honor? A hero's journey of self discovery? A vain escapade for fame and glory? Or a rumination on destiny and fate and the futility to alter your life's path? The film will definitely linger long after viewing and should spark lively post screening discussion.
On top of all this, the cast is top-notch, featuring a lot of familiar faces delivering nuanced and immersive performances. Furthermore, it is all held together with a richly textured score.
RIYL: The Navigator: A Medieval Odyssey; Excalibur; A Field In England
RATING: 4 out of 5
