Any Given Sunday (1999) - Mini Review

An amalgamation of ideas, characters, and pacing, Any Given Sunday breaks cliches while also reveling in them, proving to be one of the most interesting and frustrating football movies ever made, and a perfect echo to Oliver Stone's ego in itself.

The cast is diverse, amazing and frustrating at the same time. This seems to be the running motif with all of Oliver Stone’s films after Natural Born Killers. Jamie Foxx gives a breakout performance, and leaves no question as to why he became a star after it. Al Pacino is his Pacino-iest in this, and while this may not be very different than his normal shtick, damn is it entertaining. As Foxx jettisons fast toward super stardom, devolving him into a shell of what he once was as newly obtained power tends to corrupt, he loses his way. The cutthroat ice queen of Cameron Diaz reminds me of when she gravitated toward interesting, out-of-the-box performances before she decided to voice Shrek movies and participate in unfunny c-grade comedies for the rest of her career.

The conclusion of the film tends to abandon all of the character arcs it sets up in the previous 90 mins, which is supremely disappointing, attempting to wrap up everyone in a nice bow with changes in personality, relationships and motivations, which feels tacked on and lazy. Regardless, the film’s first two acts, despite the frustrating edits where Oliver Stone aggressively wafts his own farts at the screen. The film still stuck the landing for me, and tries a lot harder than most football films tend to do, and though it plucks heavily from the same football films it's trying to separate itself from, there was enough here to leave me engaged throughout. (7.5/10)

Personal Shopper (2017) - 100 Words or Less

Moody, introspective reflection of our times, showcasing the nomadic, modern lifestyle and search for purpose in a deeply impersonal digital age. Personal Shopper has more breathing within than average ghost story fare, managing to unearth deep emotional depth, and challenge conventional storytelling, without feeling stuffy or pretentious. Unfamiliar with Director Olivier Assayas previous work, if the rest of his films have an inkling of the understated, careful touch this one does, then there will be much to discover. Primed by a beautiful and haunting ending that begged for a second viewing, and alluded to further mysteries and revelations to uncover. (8/10)

The Cloverfield Paradox (2018) - 100 Words Or Less

A messy, cliched film that sacrifices character beats for regurgitated set pieces stolen from other science fiction movies. Borrowing from Alien, Sunshine and Event Horizon, the paradox becomes more about what went wrong behind the scenes, and how this movie was clearly salvaged by the studio slapping the Cloverfield brand on it to diminish a financial loss. Why should we care about characters we never spend enough time with to give their lives or deaths any meaning? If there is a silver lining to be found, it is free to stream on Netflix. A movie theater 5; a Netflix 7. (5/10)

Crimson Peak (2015) - Review

A film that is more beautiful than it has any right to, mildly losing its balance when it takes a plunge into the ghost and horror element near the end; a far more interesting Gothic parable than expected.

As far as Guillermo Del Toro is concerned, I will see anything he makes. Even if I find one of his films, uneven or lacking big ideas, which a lot do, there’s usually enough interesting things sandwiched in to like. He’s one of the most versatile filmmakers working, making passion projects that are small and character-driven, and then follow it up by making something gaudy and big like Pacific Rim---an excuse, I expect, to gather enough money to produce a smaller, more personal film the year after. And being late to the party on this film, most of my friends saying it is “fine,” I had low expectations.

A local art-house theater highlighting Del Toro films was screening the film for a final day this week, and even though the reputation of Crimson Peak is less than stellar, I decided to give it a shot on a bigger screen, expecting to get more out of it there than the confines of my home. And I was pleasantly surprised by how much there is to love.

Mia Wasikowska plays Edith Cushing, a 19th century aspiring writer in Buffalo, New York. Her father is a wealthy industrialist, but she wants make a name for herself with a story she’s writing that people dismiss as a “ghost story” despite her struggle to explain there’s more to find if they took the time to read on. A man from across the Atlantic, Thomas Sharpe (Thomas Hiddleston) who is showcasing a machine to Edith’s father, is immediately disliked and rejected by him. Edith, however, finds Sharpe charming, falls in love with him and follows him to his family estate Alderdale Hall, a creaky and crumbling home referred to by locals as Crimson Peak due to the red clay foundation it sits upon.  Sharpe’s more unbalanced sister Lady Lucille (Jessica Chastain) is cold and unwelcoming to Edith, seeing her as an intruder, and as the days pass ghosts begin to surface, clawing above the red clay from beneath the home, and screaming of a sinister past. Suspicious intentions by both Sharpe and his sister are unearthed as Edith investigates and wades deeper into the buried secrets within the walls of Crimson Peak.

While the argument could be made that Crimson Peak definitely loses its narrative footing when it crosses into horror full-stop, there is so much to enjoy from this film in its Gothic architecture and story that it is very difficult for me to dismiss it as a lesser work, as there is such a clear effort from the production and costume designers that far bigger films have little inklings. The Gothic atmosphere, the clear influence in color palette reminiscent of Italian horror films (Dario Argento's Suspiria came to mind throughout) was so gorgeous and expertly crafted,  invoking moody, wonderful set-pieces. Visuals alone, the film is worth a watch; but it has a lot more going for it beneath the surface, and isn’t as icy or wooden as viewers say it is.

Admittedly, the story is shelved behind the cinematography; and the dialogue can be overbearing at times to where I could see why some viewers may cringe or roll their eyes. But the film’s period setting allowed that to be ignored and kept me engaged, never throwing my interest overboard. The clear effort in every frame overshadows  these minor problems, plucking the film out of a sloppy amalgamation beyond repair. Edith is a strong female character that has things to do, never feeling like a victim swept up by circumstances that other films in the genre tread heavily. Wasikowska gives a strong performance that is believable and sympathetic in the face of the internal and external demons. Hiddleston is a charming, sinister con man that has a complexity beneath the surface that is compelling and Chastain hams it up without being overwrought as his mentally inept sister, chewing the scenery in fun ways. The ending may be the weakest portion, perhaps because of Charlie Hunnam who is giving the weakest performance in the film, but the step into interesting territory far more than the recent The Shape of Water kept me  immersed into this gorgeous, terrifying world.

Perhaps Crimson Peak suffers being chained to the audience’s expectations. Those who desire a straight horror film won’t be pleased, and those who expect a Gothic Romance will be disappointed as well. It fuses the two genres together, and does so in less-than-desirable results at times. It works for me as a fairytale, a ghost story, something I would love to listen to as a child before bed. Expertly crafted and visualized in ways that only Del Toro can, if you have the chance to see it in a theater I highly recommend doing so. (8/10)

Last Flag Flying (2017) - 100 Words or Less

While teetering into over-sentimentality, Linklater reigns in the film with bouts of strong direction and human moments in the face of tragedy. More nuanced performances by Fishburne and Carell are often overshadowed by a larger than life performance by Bryan Cranston; but the honest talk and revelations concerning morality during wartime, the regrets they carry, and the search for meaning and faith felt genuine. As their glory days trail further in the rear-view mirror, this road trip of self-reflection kept me engaged; and despite careening into old-fashioned territory sporadically, a strong heartbeat underneath keeps the film on a sincere path. (7.5/10)

The Shape of Water (2017) - 100 Words or Less

Relevant to the current political climate, a film about otherness and how outsiders are persecuted, and monsters are created, through an unwillingness to empathize. This film not only works as an entertaining creature feature, but also as an allegory for the civil rights movement. The beauty of the cinematography/staging alone is worth the price of a ticket; and while some of the scenes feel on the nose in its message, there is enough heart to illustrate the lasting impact people can have if they take the time to listen to the voiceless, and the commonalities we find in doing so. (8/10) 

Death Note (2017) - Mini Review

Death Note doesn’t nosedive in the way that fans of the anime or casual viewers seem to be painting. Its style is purposefully overdone and revels in that with conscious choice of cheesy music and acting. The appearance of Death God Ryuk and the blood-curdling screams early on establishes a schlocky, self-aware attitude that leaves it up to the individual to agree if it works. Familiarity with the Director Adam Wingard’s previous films would only help better understand what he is attempting to do. He walks the tightrope of comedy/horror schlock in most of his films, and while there is evidence Death Note does the same, there is an underlying sense this project is handcuffed by studio notes instead of the allowance for liberal exploration of fresh and bizarre territory. It bleeds the question, “what could this have been as a 13-episode miniseries?” Death Note both fails and succeeds in cramming the plot points of the source material into a short amount of time while exploring new ideas but tumbles under its own weight, simultaneously entertaining and disappointing, exceeding and underperforming in its adaptation. I’m genuinely unsure if a straight adaptation would work better or be as enjoyable. Perhaps it works better as a summation of curious, ambitious ideas that either fall short or are lost in translation. An amusing, infuriating and intriguing mess of a film. (6.5/10)

Little Evil (2017)- 100 Words or Less

At times it can be a clever parody of the horror genre, but ultimately it becomes bogged down in cliche, not all the jokes land the way they should, and the character progression is too rushed.

A tighter script could have saved it. And compared to the director's previous work with the clever Tucker and Dale Vs. Evil, it kind of pales in comparison, not meeting the bar that have already been set by previous horror comedies.

Adam Scott is always good though regardless of what he's in.

Not good, not terrible. Watchable. (6/10)

Ingrid Goes West (2017)- 100 Words or Less

Satirical, intense, often dark and funny. Ingrid Goes West is an unflinching sendup of our obsession with fame, projection of false lives on social media and the constant search for reassurance and purpose in the smartphone era. Aubrey Plaza gives one of her best performances as a sympathetic sociopath and the film is bolstered by strong supporting performances by newcomers like O' Shea Jackson. Twisted my guts and made me hate everything about instagram even more .

Green Room (2016) - Review

Green Room is the kind of film that traps you in its grip and slowly suffocates you. A claustrophobic, superbly directed vision that prods a gun barrel to your forehead and challenges you to brush it away.

It entirely works because of it's direction and in more shaky hands would fall flat. The plot is fairly simple: a struggling punk band seeking their next paying gig, siphoning gas along the way, finds themselves trapped in a green room of a Neonazi punk bar after they are witness a murder. They must find a way to escape the owner and his violent skinhead cronies before they attempt to bury them along with the victim.

A lesser film would easily find itself buried in the premise, bordering into "slasher movie" territory but it manages to climb its way above that by immersing you in the action with compelling characters, nuanced performances and genuine terror. This world is bleak, unapologetic, often teetering into pure psychological horror; and the audience, along with the characters, is pushed into a hopeless situation where death slashes at you from every corner. My heart jolted throughout and results in a truly nerve-wracking experience. Phrases like "edge of your seat" and "jaw-dropping" are thrown around a lot, but Green Room truly earns these accolades.

Patrick Stewart delivers an understated, menacing performance plucked from the backwoods of American subculture often ignored. He is smart, calculated and unflinching. Where many other films would exemplify eccentricity or melodrama, we are not given reprieve or laughter--only brutality--and are forced to escape the onscreen terror alongside the characters. The film works is because the monsters are real people that are smart and tread in the real world with thought and feeling. Nobody is safe, and the motivations are clear: survive or die trying. Anton Yelchin and Imogen Poots give believable, yet starkly different performances as the down and out punkers trying fight their way out, and the stakes are undeniably raised as the brutality swells with shotguns and hungry pitbulls.

The gore, death and general horrific imagery aside, the movie manages to be beautifully shot, edited and emanates a moody color scheme of vivid blacks and greens that showcase squeamish uneasiness and dread. A film of broken rules, predictability, and gives the viewer panic as these people attempt to escape the bar with their lives. Every scene raises a serious question about the characters' mortality. I was totally engrossed with this miserable, heart-pumping ride from beginning to end that unexpectedly scares without feeling cheap or unearned.

(9/10)

Who Took Johnny? (2014) - REVIEW

A lone red wagon, a small dog, and undelivered newspapers are left behind on a suburban Iowa sidewalk in 1982, a Ford Fairlane speeding through a stop sign into the darkness of early morning. A 12-year old paperboy will be discovered missing the next day and later become the first child’s face to show up on the back of a milk carton in American history.

What sounds like the beginning of a nail-biting Hollywood thriller is a sad and disturbing reality—one that American parents face each and every day and is the main focus of documentary Who Took Johnny, a dissection of the stranger-than-fiction disappearance of Iowa paperboy, Johnny Gosch, a boy who seemingly “vanished into thin air” and a case that still remains unsolved.

At the beginning of the documentary, we meet Gosch’s mother Noreen, 30 years later, still unwilling to give up despite the three decades that have passed since her boy originally went missing. We follow her to yoga, to the local gas station, and other seemingly everyday excursions before ultimately arriving at the home of a young Iowa couple who, like her, has also fallen victim to a child abduction/disappearance. Noreen consults them, gives them advice, and tries to be the consolation to the couple’s heartbreak and sense of hopelessness that permeates in the air because she has been through it herself. A series of old news reels and eyewitness interviews about the 1982 disappearance of Johnny Gosch follows, depicting the townsfolk and a younger Noreen crusading against the neighborhood police department at the height of her child’s disappearance.

It is hard to believe that 30 years ago a missing child was not a same-day priority for the police as we have grown accustomed in modern day; but the Reagan era was perceived as a very different time as the documentary paints, and bureaucracy, police neglect and apathy ultimately hinder further investigation into young Johnny Gosch’s disappearance. As months are torn away on the calendar, the story only becomes weirder. The emergence of testimony from an alleged accomplice to the kidnapping of Johnny Gosch, who claims to have known Johnny personally, identifies marks that only his mother would have known existed. Yet despite his testimony and the irrefutable evidence he presents, personal interviews with local police show them dismissing it all as inconclusive and not worth pursuing further.

Directors David Bellinson, Michael Galinsky and Suki Hawley happen upon deeply emotional and complex subject matter that is so layered it almost feels too hefty to cover in the short 76-minute run time. That isn’t to say that the documentary suffers or feels incomplete: it unequivocally grabs the viewer’s attention from the opening to the very last frame and, as it progresses, what begins as an investigative documentary of an unsolved missing child case evolves into something much more scandalous and eye-opening. Eyewitness accounts and unbelievable news footage angers as much as it informs and evil facets of American society are exposed along the way with police departments and politicians turning a blind eye to children’s disappearances, further propagating a series of crime rings responsible for child sex trafficking and abuse as long as money is thrust into their pockets.

The production value, editing and pacing of Who Took Johnny is confident and extraordinarily skilled, and the questions it raises pleads for a follow-up or at the least a director’s cut. The case, the people affected by it and the unraveling of unforeseen and unspoken maliciousness is bigger than the documentary can contain at its length and leaves many questions unanswered—but like the human experience, sometimes answers are never found. An incredibly poignant film that proves reality can be darker and more intriguing than the most despondent recesses that the human mind can create and certainly should not be missed.

Available to stream on all major platforms.