Side Order of Herring, Extra Red - Glass Onion film review

Agatha Christie is either smiling broadly or rolling over in her grave right about now. The latest Knives Out entry is no less than the fourth whodunnit to be released in theaters since August, all of them owing no small debt to the grand dame of murder mysteries.

Anywho, I really enjoyed the original Benoit Blanc endeavor from 2019. This venture took a little more time for me to warm up to it. 

I chock my initial lukewarm reaction up to the ADHD-styled exposition, wind whipped pacing, and paper thin characters. But by the advent of the third act I realized that all of those perceived shortcomings were merely writer/director Rian Johnson’s sneakily excellent means of misdirection and distraction. 

I fell for all the sleights and feints and red herrings and never guessed who the villain was, even though they were hiding in plain sight the entire time. The third act and conclusion are delightfully delicious as all the puzzle pieces fit together just so. Heck, even the predictable reveals still manage to come off as clever and elicited smiles and a few laughs from my oral cavity.

While definitely not as tightly woven as the first film, it is still a richly engaging endeavor all around. That said, I may have liked See How They Run just a smidge better...

All You Can Eat... - Bones and All film review

This film joins the ranks of such fare as Raw and Ginger Snaps, in that it is a totally f$&ked-up coming of age story. Or, to put it another way, it’s pretty much an after school romance special gone off the rails, with a road trip, a search for birth parents, and a sapient tartare sub-plot.

Teeming with lottsa disturbing supporting characters, the film teeters between twee forbidden romance and unnerving psychological and physical trauma. The grue is thick and the violence is harrowing , mostly because it comes out of nowhere or after long bouts of rose colored lens affected romance and drama.

And, yes, while the finale isn’t much of a surprise, those involved did a decent enough job of delivering some quasi-misdirection that keep you second-guessing up until the final moments of the third act.  

Prior to watching this film I haven’t really understood all the hype about the Chalemet kid, but he is pretty damn bueno in this film. And Michael Stuhlbarg and Mark Rylance are insanely creepy, stealing their scenes like professional criminals.

Check Please... - The Menu film review

Prepare yourself for an ambrosial outing which delivers piquantly skewered satire aimed squarely at those who have elevated eating to an unaffordable luxury. Borrowing elements of Agatha Christie and Richard Connell, plus well-aimed digs at entitled pseudo connoisseurs, the film manages to offer up some nice and twisted moments. Though devoid of any sweet surprises, the plot fits together like a well-oiled jigsaw puzzle that’ll make you smile when it all comes together. The cast is stellar, making good with largely stock characterizations (douchey tech bros, the washed-up actor, the self-righteous critic and her pandering editor, etc.), but there are some rich turns from Nicholas Hoult, Ralph Fiennes, and Anya Taylor-Joy tucked in between the amuse bouche and dessert.

FWIW, this film would make a great pairing with Flux Gourmet, Triangle of Sadness, or Don’t Worry Darling.

Bardon My Existence - Bardo, A Chronicle of a Handful of Truths film review

A week ago an acquaintance explained the concept of bardo to me after I showed him the trailer to this film. I was hitherto unfamiliar with the term before this. I also stopped listening to his lengthy and winded exposition, one because I got bored, but two because I feared it might ruin my movie going experience.

Personally, I feel the less you know about the Buddhist theory going into Alejandro González Iñárritu‘s latest effort, the more enjoyable and mindfuckingly good it will be to experience. That said, when the end of the film came I remembered what that acquaintance had been blabbering about and it made the previous 159 minutes make a bit more sense.

Whether you go into it with ignorance or armed with basic Buddhist bravado, Bardo is a visual feast best viewed on the largest screen possible. It is a whirlwind story about life, death, identity, art, commerce, social media, memory, the past, the present, commerce, history, elitism, genocide, racism, as well as being an arty rumination on mid-life crises. It’s also a wonderfully giant puzzle with myriad pieces floating around and around, that when they finally find their place make for a richly layered story worth repeated viewing.

There Is Only a Finger's Difference Between a Wise Man and a Fool - The Banshees of Inisherin film review

This is easily the quietest film writer/director Martin McDonagh has crafted to date. But it is also a smoldering one, one which understatedly revels in multiple layers of complexity.

It’s at times a devilishly dark and fractured fairy tale, an anti-war film masquerading as a swervedriving comedic drama, and a scathing indictment of how routine can kill one’s mental—particularly philosophical—growth. It’s also a movie about loneliness, isolation, and the dissolution of friendship. Or perhaps it’s just a quirky yarn about two blokes living on an island off the coast of Ireland. The joy of this film is that you can make of it what you want. At times absurdist and other times achingly poignant, it moves along at a gentle pace, slowly building tension, but never wasting well-timed comedic inserts either. 

Set against the backdrop of the Irish Civil War circa 1923 there’s a cleverly subdued riff about the futility and folly of conflict, war, and revenge that weaves its thematic thread through an seemingly simplistic story about nice men living simple lives. But as with any good melodrama worth its weight in salt, there’s a dark underbelly lurking just beneath the surface of the idyllic landscape and regular visits to the pub for a pint. Oh, and there’s a witch, a village idiot, and a policeman who enjoys a good wank in his living room most evenings. 

Those familiar with McDonagh’s previous works, both in cinema and the stage (The Pillowman, In Bruges, Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri) will relish in his rich dialogue and snaky plot structure. And the thespian turns from both Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson are beyond stellar. Supporting work from Kerry Condon and Barry Keoghan (damn, this dude is chameleonic as hell) balance things out. Additionally, the score from Carter Burwell (best known for his longtime collaborations with the brothers Coen) sets a wonderful tone that wavers between the whimsical and calamitous and lends the whole affair an air of the Bros. Grimm.

Obtuse Melancholy or The Savage Social Strata - Triangle of Sadness film review

To say that I was initially hesitant about this film is somewhat of an understatement. The reason for my skepticism was that I had not enjoyed the writer/director's 2014 effort Force Majeure, mostly because the characters in the film were despicable and shallow, and highly unrelatable (at least to me). I know that was the point of the film, but it made it really hard to watch.

Despite my reluctancy, this film piqued my interest when it won the Palm d'Or at this year's Cannes Film Festival. While I don't usually give much credence to festival awards, at least the French have a respectable track record for often times choosing weird, polarizing, and just plain challenging films for the premiere awards at Cannes (think last year's Titane, for example).

But I digress.

In a nutshell, ToS is a brilliantly scathing black comedy, expertly and wryly taking the piss out of gender equality (or inequality as is often the case here), entitled wealth, class structure, social standing, the vapidy of advertising and influencing, and the general cluelessness people have about those around them, especially those dwelling in alternate financial realms (i.e. rich man/poor man). 

The film is told in three parts that feel like absurdist takes on Zoolander, The Poseidon Adventure (albeit by way of Monty Python), and Lord of the Flies. Sure, I'm being smidge facetious with those comparisons, mind you, but they are spot on more than you would think. Left field comparisons aside, the  film is it's own biting, gnawing, satirical entity, taking mundane situations--fighting over who pays the dinner bill--to topical world matters--open sea piracy, distribution of wealth, social and economic hierarchy, and much, much more--and skewering them with smirking aplomb.

I laughed out loud on more than one occasion, had to choke down some serious gagging reflexes a few other times, and found myself perplexed and overjoyed at the insanely ambiguous ending.

In short terms, this film is mondo entertaining and just the right amount of thought provoking.