Screening Room: Challengers, Boy Kills World, Infested, The Beast, Humane
Triple Fault
Challengers
by George Wolf
“This is about winning the points that matter.”
Honestly, the relationship triangle at work in Challengers could probably work outside of a tennis court, but director Luca Guadagnino does wonders with the sports angle for a completely engrossing drama of intimate competition.
Anchored around a three-set challenge match between Art Donaldson (West Side Story‘s Mike Faist) and Patrick Zweig (Josh O’Connor from The Crown), the film drifts back and forth in time as it immerses us in their series of entanglements with tennis phenom Tashi Duncan (Zendaya).
Through Grand Slam victories, unrealized potential and one career-ending injury, writer Justin Kuritzkes examines how three distinct personalities push and pull throughout their young lives, and their differing views on the points that matter.
Kuritzkes is married to filmmaker Celine Song, and his script often feels like the cynical cousin of her Oscar nominated triangle drama Past Lives.
Guadagnino’s camera is a sumptuous wonder, often following the three leads like an on-court volley, and then coming in close to focus on sweat, bare skin, and the constant draw of physical contact. The tennis action itself is also intense and effective, buoyed by blistering forehands barreling down our sightline and some frenzied POV shots during the final set.
Zendaya, Faist and O’Connor deftly handle the growth of their characters from fresh-faced teens to hardened adults. All three deliver terrific, well-defined performances, and Challengers quickly becomes a film to get lost in, where you’re happy to be hanging on every break point.
Thinning the Herd
Humane
by Hope Madden
When Brandon Cronenberg decided to be a filmmaker—one keenly interested in corporeal horror—it felt both natural and brave. Natural because his father David is perhaps the all-time master of body horror. Brave for the same reason.
It turns out, Brandon Cronenberg is a natural. (If you haven’t, you should definitely see his films.) But the family affair doesn’t end with him. Daughter Caitlin Cronenberg’s feature debut Humane sets her slightly apart from the fellas, though.
Written by Michael Sparaga, Humane takes place in a near future where climate catastrophe requires that each country on earth purge itself of 20% of its population. A euthanasia program allows citizens to enlist, helping the nation reach its quota, helping the planet survive, and providing government funds to the family bereaved. But with numbers lower than expected, the nation is considering conscription.
Cronenberg’s tale focuses on one family in particular. Patriarch Charles York (Peter Gallagher), retired from a storied career as a TV journalist, invites his four adult children (Jay Baruchel, Emily Hampshire, Sebastian Chacon, Alanna Bale) home for an important dinner. Dad, and the kids’ stepmother Dawn (Uni Park), have decided to enlist.
With this dinner bombshell Cronenberg sets in motion a realistically cynical look at a government’s opportunistic manipulation of a thinning of the herd. She then zeroes in on the festering effect of privilege on the York children, simultaneously throwing shade at the “salt of the earth” types who are as violently judgmental as their position allows.
Gallagher’s great as the martyr desperate to leave a legacy, and Hampshire’s ferociously self-serving villain is a joy. Enrico Colantoni delivers the most fascinating, frustrating character, easily stealing every scene.
Humane makes two horror films in a row, following last week’s Abigail, where you don’t really root for anyone. Everyone’s terrible and it’s slightly disappointing that anyone survives at all. Worse, the big revelation that pushes characters toward the climax is unearned.
More problematic is that there are two fairly substantial omissions—not plot holes, just conveniently placed gaps in clarification that feel like intentional cheats. Beyond that, the writing often feels slightly behind the times. Jared York’s (Baruchel) claim that he “doesn’t see color” feels more suited to a tale set a decade ago rather than in a near-future dystopia.
These writing concerns don’t sink the effort entirely. An intriguing premise buoyed with darkly comedic performances, plus a brisk 90 minute runtime keep Humane entertaining, but it’s hard not to feel a bit disappointed.
Somewhere in Time
The Beast
by Hope Madden
“Fulfillment lies in the lack of passion.”
Filmmaker Bertrand Bonello reconsiders the Henry James novella The Beast in the Jungle, blending the fear of intimacy with a larger scale societal pressure to minimize our unruly natures.
Bonello, writing with Guillaume Bréaud and Benjamin Charbit, crosses three timelines to expand and deepen his vision: Paris 1910 during the Great Flood; LA 2014, when a 4.4 earthquake struck as the incel phenomenon was born; and back to Paris in 2044, long after AI has become master to humanity’s subservient species.
These are the timelines in which Gabrielle (Léa Seydoux) struggles with “the beast” — an overwhelming sense of impending disaster. Memories of Gabrielle’s previous lives are ignited by the 2044 cleansing process meant to minimize human emotion, making people more reliable workers.
In each storyline, Gabrielle dances around a possible relationship with Louis (George MacKay). Pressure to conform and the idea that emotional safety is key to happiness are obstacles to their passion. But it is Gabrielle’s obsession with impending doom that forever keeps the two from connecting.
Bonello revives James’s age-old terror of intimacy with the modern terror of AI, and does it with such nuanced humanity that even the occasional spot of stilted dialog can be forgiven.
Seydoux, forever a marvel of raw human emotion, perfectly animates the fight against sanding down the rough edges of humanity. But Bonello throws a wild curve ball with his 2014 plot, tangling psychotic entitlement within the story’s misunderstood concept of intimacy.
The shift in focus could pull you from the hypnotic romance of the other timelines were it not for the exceptional work of his cast. MacKay treads a narrow path of gentlemanly interest, effortlessly illustrating the heartbreaking proximity between tenderness, apathy and contempt.
The Beast is a lush affair, gorgeous to look at and nimble in the way themes echo across eras. It’s also an elegant reminder that an unruly heart is nothing to silence.
It’s a Brawl World After All
Boy Kills World
by George Wolf
Boy Kills World feels like a film the gamers are going to love.
For the rest of us, it offers a hyper stylized, uber-violent riff on The Hunger Games by way of Kill Bill while it harbors Deadpool aspirations and a coy surprise waiting in act three. But while the style is never in doubt, real substance is lacking.
Bill Skarsgård supplies plenty of physical charisma as “Boy,” whose family was murdered years earlier during a lethal event known as “The Culling.” Once a year in this post apocalyptic landscape, enemies of ruling matriarch Hilda Van Der Koy (Famke Janssen) are rounded up and executed for sport and entertainment. Though Boy survived the assault, he was left deaf and mute, and has spent several years training with a mysterious shaman (Yayan Ruhian) until the time was right to take his revenge.
Against the shaman’s advice, Boy feels the time is now. And though he’s evolved into a singular killing machine, Boy is not alone. He has an inner voice adopted from a favorite video game (veteran voice actor H. Jon Benjamin), and a fever dream imagination that often bickers with the ghost of his rebellious little sister (Quinn Copeland).
On the eve of another Culling, Boy’s martial arts rampage of blood begins, and one of his early weapons of choice is a cheese grater.
Go on.
In his debut feature, director and co-writer Moritz Mohr skillfully captures the frenzied, level-up mayhem of video games. Cinematographer Peter Matjasko, composer Ludvig Forssell and editor Lucian Barnard help complete the gaming pastiche, while the screenplay keeps Benjamin supplied with commentary that’s consistently fueled by meta-sarcasm that never hits the master level of self-awareness.
As Boy starts up the ladder of the Van Der Koy family (Michelle Dockery, Brett Gelman, Sharlto Copley) and their Head of Security (Jessica Rothe), he falls in with a group known as the Resistance before the narrative takes its unexpected pivot.
Boy’s states of delirium have already opened the door for an unreliable narrator, so Mohr commits considerable effort (and exposition) in making sure we understand the twist.
But what we need even more is a reason to care.
Much like Hardcore Henry almost ten years ago, the film’s gaming mindset results in action that is visually exciting, but as emotionally empty as a “Play again?” reset. There’s never any motivation to get invested in the stakes, or in the attitude that often reeks of desperation hipness.
So while Boy Kills World‘s target audience may be blown away, those outside the center will find some tedium inside this finely orchestrated mayhem.
There’s no doubt you’ll find a few new uses for your cheese grater.
Arachnophobia
Infested
by Hope Madden
Remember Quarantine (or Rec, for that matter)? Remember that moment when you realize you’re locked inside an apartment building, trapped with the ravenous undead?
OK, so that but spiders.
Nice, right?!
Sébastien Vanicek’s Infested (co-written with Florent Bernard) doesn’t steal from other movies as much as it mines the primal fears that have plagued the most effective horror movies from the beginning.
Kaleb (Théo Christine) is a well-meaning dumbass. He lives in a dump of a high rise, but he loves the place, loves the neighbors, and cherishes the memory of his mother. That’s why, unlike his sister Manon (Lisa Nyarko), Kaleb doesn’t want to leave. In fact, he’s made a cozy home in his room for any number of exotic little beasties—the latest of which he just picked up from the super-secret back room of a dodgy shop.
“Careful, it’s probably poisonous,” the shopkeeper calls as Kaleb carries his rubber-banded plastic container and the very poisonous, extremely nasty spider inside.
Jumping ahead, Kaleb does not heed the warning.
Apartment horror can be so creepy when it’s done well: dark hallways, grimy elevators, creepy parking garages, too many floors until safety, and loads of places for spiders to nest. Vanicek makes excellent use of these spaces, and he shows solid instincts for creature FX—when to go practical, when to show little, when to show lots (and lots and lots). But his film succeeds on the lived-in world of these neighbors and friends.
Christine (Gran Turismo) delivers messy, loving authenticity as the guy who cares deeply and screws up everything. Finnegan Oldfield (Final Cut) is even better, and he brings with him a realism and natural charisma that cements the rag tag band of survivors as human beings to root for.
That realism doesn’t extend fully to the arachnid horror. Their reproductive mechanisms, their feeding habits, growth spurts—well, they’re not supposed to be from deep space or a nuclear accident, so the extremes seen in the building definitely strain credibility.
But damn! That doesn’t make it any less creepy! You may find yourself shaking out your sleeves and pulling the drawstring tight around your hoodie. I did. But at least the cockroaches are under control.
Screening Room: Abigail, Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare, Sasquatch Sunset, The People’s Joker & More
Dancing in the Dark
Abigail
by Hope Madden
Back in 2019, directors Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett had a blast locking a group of evildoers and one innocent inside a luxurious mansion for about 90 minutes of head exploding, weapon wielding, visceral mayhem.
The fun they had with Ready or Not was contagious. So catchy that you can certainly feel its influence in the filmmakers’ latest, the ballerina vampire tale Abigail.
The first big difference is that in this mansion, no one is innocent.
A team has been assembled for a kidnapping: grab a wealthy guy’s kid and hole up in some out-of-the-way safe house until the ransom comes. They nab little Abigail as she’s coming home from ballet lessons, easy enough, and now all they have to do is wait out the night until the cash comes through.
It’s an airtight movie set up, even if it leaves little breathing space for twists or surprises—assuming you’ve seen the trailer, or at least the poster, and are not shocked to learn that Abigail is a vampire.
Alisha Weir (Matilda: The Musical, Wicked Little Letters) strikes a fine balance as the centuries-old bloodsucker who suckers victims by playing a helpless preteen. She certainly makes ballet look sinister.
Gillett and Bettinelli-Olpin surround their wee star with a solid ensemble. This ragtag group of bloodbags (or criminals, as they’d probably prefer to be known) delivers some fun chemistry.
Dan Stevens (having a banner year!) is delightfully unpleasant as group leader Frank, while Melissa Barrera (Scream) carves out a compelling lead turn. Meanwhile, Kathryn Newton (Lisa Frankenstein, Freaky) and longtime “that guy” Kevin Durand deliver the comic notes.
Abigail offers quickly paced, sharply edited gore with enough banter to keep the characters interesting. It’s tough to know who to root for—these people did willingly kidnap a child, after all. The overall moral ambiguity of the film makes it less satisfying than Ready or Not and the lockstep plotting keeps it from sticking with you long after the credits roll.
It’s fun, though. And when it decides to finally get bloody, it may not leave a lasting impression, but it definitely makes a mess.
Pretty When She Smiles
The People’s Joker
by Hope Madden
When Vera Drew’s The People’s Joker premiered at the 2022 Toronto International Film Festival, Warner Bros. and their lawyers promptly shut it down.
How in keeping with the spirit of the film, an autobiographical glimpse into the filmmaker’s transition that skewers homogenized corporate-controlled art. A multimedia collage of sorts, the film sutures live action with animation to tell of a young person, fed up with their narcissistic mother and absent father, numbed by the conveniently prescribed “Smylex” that’s helped keep reality at bay lo these many years. The numbness doesn’t keep our hero from heading to Gotham City to fail wildly as a comic, though.
Moments in the film that directly address the filmmaker’s own life story deliver an emotional punch that somehow feels at ease inside this wickedly satirical take on the death of fringe art.
Vera Drew also stars as the performer who becomes Joker, then Joker the Harlequin, her deadname being bleeped throughout the film, a la Kill Bill. The transition from put-upon son to underground comic outcast to what she was meant to be all along creates a strong and emotional structure for the film.
In its own way, The People’s Joker homages as much as it lambasts. The film is dedicated to Joel Schumacher, whose Batman Forever provided young Joker his first inkling that he was not who he was meant to be.
The film takes aim at Saturday Night Live and superhero culture as essentially a hollow impersonation of what once was outsider art, and it achieves its aims by being, very clearly, outsider art.
Gotham City—ever the cesspool—withers under the fascist rule of Batman and Lorne Michaels, whose United Clown Bureau Live (clearly SNL) is the only legal form of comedy in the city.
Batman’s not all he’s caped up to be, either.
It’s an incredibly impressive effort both behind and in front of the camera. Her film is wildly imaginative but devastatingly personal at the same time. But her clear-eyed image of corporate comedy has even more bite.
Dress for the Job You Want
Villains, Inc.
by Rachel Willis
When their super villain leader dies, three henchmen are left adrift in director Jeremy Warner’s comedy Villains, Inc.
It’s an interesting concept told with the kind of mundanity that speaks to real life. Though most of these villains have superpowers and special abilities, they need jobs – just like the rest of us. They also have dreams of the future, just like us. Not perhaps of a summer house in the country, but of world domination.
After the leader dies, Beatrix (Mallory Everton) becomes the group’s de facto number one. The other two (Colin Mochrie and Jason Gray) just aren’t capable of leading anyone.
There is a certain amount of comedy from the set up alone. What do hench people do when they have no one to guide them? However, this concept only takes you so far. What follows is often forced and ineffective. No one leans into the material, so too often, there is nothing to laugh at.
We’re left with clunky dialogue and a been-there-done-that style of humor. That’s not to say no joke ever lands – Mallory Everton and Jason Gray get produce a good laugh or two – but too often the writing gets in the way.
The story itself is fine. We have montage moments and misunderstandings, reconciliations and growth. The superhero of the film, Captain Justice (Trey Warner), has some of the best scenes, but even a few of those are lifted from other films. The moment when Justice hands out “swag” to fawning cops is reminiscent of The Lego Batman Movie.
While the characters are likable enough, there simply isn’t enough working for this movie to keep it interesting. There are too many threads for each to get a satisfactory resolution, as if the writers weren’t quite sure what kind of story they wanted to tell.
The slap-stick style comedy will definitely work for some, but comedy is one of the toughest sells. What resonates is not so much the humor but the desperation that comes with needing a job – even if you have superpowers.
