Maniac Baby on Board

Prevenge

by Hope Madden

Anybody with any sense at all is afraid of pregnant women.

I myself all but pushed a man down a flight of stairs while I was pregnant, and still don’t see the problem with it.

With unassuming mastery, Alice Lowe pushes that concept to its breaking point with her wickedly funny directorial debut, Prevenge.

Lowe plays Ruth. Grieving, single and pregnant, Ruth believes her unborn daughter rather insists that she kill a bunch of people.

With her characteristically dry, oh-so-British humor, Lowe exposes awkward moments of human interaction and then forces you to stare at them until they become gigglingly unbearable.

Why such bloodlust from Ruth’s baby? Lowe, who also wrote the script, divulges just as much as you need to know when the opportunity arises. At first, there’s just the macabre fun of watching the seemingly ordinary mum pick off an unsuspecting exotic pet salesman.

And then on to the saddest, most pathetic 70s-loving disco club DJ of all time.

With each new victim we learn a bit more backstory and a little more about Ruth, who’s on a path that’s funny, bloody and just touching enough to leave a mark.

Lowe’s blackly comic timing as an actor is well proven, particularly in Ben Wheatley’s 2012 gem Sightseers, which she also co-penned. Wheatley’s picture predicted Lowe’s ability to zero in on anxieties around social awkwardness and exploit them for all their squirm-worthy horror and comedic worth, as well.

She ably showcases these skills and more in Prevenge, this time mining larger themes of grief and pre-partum depression with a weary authenticity. (Lowe, like her character Ruth, was 7 months pregnant during filming.)

Rarely gory (DJ Dan does get it pretty good, though), the film barely registers as horror, but as a comedy it treads some dark territory. It does so with authority, good will, subversive insight and a laugh.

It’s a thin plot requiring the ability to suspend disbelief, but it also announces a very fresh voice in horror.

Verdict-3-5-Stars

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JLc7yUjPJLI

Old Bandits Society

Going in Style

by George Wolf

More than once, Going In Style tells us “it is a culture’s duty to take care of its elderly.”

If only the film had a funny way of showing it.

Instead, director Zach Braff takes three screen legends on a caper full of obvious writing, cheap slapstick and dressed up sitcom filler.

An update on the 1979 George Burns/Art Carney/Lee Strasberg vehicle, this new version stars Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman, and Alan Arkin as Joe, Willie, and Al, three New York retirees who’ve just been screwed out of their pensions by corporate shenanigans. While Joe is fighting his home foreclosure notice with a smarmy bank manager, the bank gets robbed.

Joe’s impressed with the heist, and unimpressed with the detective (Matt Dillon) trying to track down the thieves, so why not give stickups a try? Let’s face it, even if the guys get life in prison, how long could that be? Because they’re so old! Man, those age jokes just get funnier the more they’re repeated, don’t they?

No, they don’t, and screenwriter Theodore Melfi, fresh off some fine work with Hidden Figures and St. Vincent, hits a major pothole on his road to straight up comedy. Seeing how these three veteran actors play off each other should be a treat in itself, but too much of the leadup to the actual bank job has the trio stuffing whole roasts down their pants at the grocery or sitting around watching The Bachelor. You know, because the thought of senior citizens watching that show is so outrageous!

Lazy.

It doesn’t help that Braff (Garden State, TV’s Scrubs) has all three actors overdoing the aches and pains of aging for most of the film, and only in the final few minutes, when the longtime friends are apparently rejuvenated by their crime spree, do you get the sense of any realistic characters with natural chemistry. The robbery itself, where Braff shows some stylistic flair and an instance or two of subtle visual comedy, seems stolen from another film entirely.

Perhaps even one that was interesting.

Verdict-2-0-Stars

 

 

Schwarzenegger’s Aftermath Premieres at Gateway

He said he would be back, and he is – onscreen, anyway. Open fan of Columbus Arnold Schwarzenegger stars in Aftermath, a movie filmed and set in central Ohio.

Based on the real-life mid-air collision of Danish airplanes in 2002, recast as an American disaster, the film follows the merging paths of a grieving father (Schwarzenegger) and the air traffic controller he holds responsible (Scoot McNairy).

Greater Columbus Film Commission and Gateway Film Center celebrate the release with a premier this Friday, April 7. Local cast and crewmembers will share the excitement, which begins with a mixer at the film center at 7:30 pm and a screening at 9.

Schwarzenegger delivers one of his best performances in a role that contrasts with the type that made him an icon. He’s thoughtful and understated in a film draped in a haze of sadness and regret.

He’s joined onscreen by Columbus native Maggie Grace in a film written by Javier Gullon (Enemy), produced by Darren Aronofsky (Black Swan, The Wrestler), and directed by Elliot Lester (Nightingale).

Add to that cameos by former Mayor Mike Coleman and shout outs to local media Sunny 95 and Channel 6 – not to mention locations you’re sure to recognize – and the whole thing feels just darn homey.

Tickets for this special opening night event are $15 each ($5 for myGFC members).

Standard showtimes and pricing also available at www.gatewayfilmcenter.org.

God Save the Queen

Queen of the Desert

by Hope Madden

How many period romances set against the crumbling of the Ottoman empire must I endure in one month?

Current tally: 2, and Werner Herzog’s Queen of the Desert is the least endurable.

I had been cautiously optimistic about Herzog’s biopic on Gertrude Bell. Nicole Kidman (rarely a bad idea) stars as Bell, a British writer/traveler/scientist/spy who helped shape British policy on the Middle East.

Herzog + Kidman = reason for optimism.

Unfortunately, that math doesn’t really work out.

I’m not going to lie, I had no idea who Gertrude Bell was before I saw this film. Ten seconds on google and I found out that she was an absolutely fascinating human being. It’s crazy. She explored everywhere, climbed everything, learned new languages, informed culture and politics, wrote about all of it, had torrid affairs, never married, and determined the boundaries of modern day Iraq. All in the early 1900s.

That should have been a hell of a movie.

Unfortunately, director Herzog cannot tell this woman’s wildly unconventional story without framing her in the most conventional way possible. She exists exclusively in terms of her relationships – or the absence of a relationship – with men.

We’ll lay that at the foot of Herzog the director, but this God-awful dialog? That’s on Herzog the writer.

Kidman, almost tragic in her earnest commitment to this part, manages to wrestle Herzog’s humorless and hackneyed prose into submission. But Lord, James Franco cannot.

The plotting is no better than the concept or dialog.

Scene after needless scene shows Kidman in the office of one man or another, announcing her plans to do something they don’t need to know about, only to suffer their indignant rebuffs. She responds with obstinate will. Cut to Kidman doing whatever it was those men told her she couldn’t do.

Repeat ad nauseum.

This woman hand-drew the border between Iraq and Jordan – in a time when women couldn’t vote in England. That alone could be unpacked and considered from about 30 different perspectives. There are so many things worth knowing about Gertrude Bell, but all I really learned from Queen of the Desert is that she was, “a woman without her man.”

That’s a real line of dialog. Good God.

Verdict-1-5-Stars

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zdGKbxJHPkk

Getting to Know You

Frantz

by George Wolf

No matter how fierce the differences, war can quickly remind grieving families how much they have in common.  It is hardly a new sentiment, but one explored with fresh intimacy by writer/director Francois Ozon in the starkly compelling Frantz.

It is just after the close of World War I in a German town still full of prideful contempt for the victorious French. Fraulein Anna (Paula Beer) grieves for Frantz, the fiancee she lost in battle, living with his parents as the three cling desperately to Frantz’s memory.

Enter Adrien (Pierre Niney), a stranger known in town as “the Frenchman.” He visits Frantz’s grave to leave flowers and tears, naturally drawing Anna’s curiosity. Despite initial anger from Anna’s would be father-in-law, Adrien charms the family through stories of his friendship with Frantz, drawing closer to Anna while keeping crucial secrets from her.

Ozon, working with a more traditional narrative structure than in his Swimming Pool or 8 Women, isn’t shy with the metaphors, but has enough storytelling instinct to never overplay the hand. Through mirror images, shifting locales, even something as obvious as the film’s title, Ozon reinforces the emotional parallels while leaning on his stellar lead actors to fully exploit the subtle detours in where you think the film is headed.

Beer makes Anna a wounded soul in limbo, her piercing, curious eyes almost too daring for Adrien to confront. Niney provides the skittish affectations for Adrien’s tentative nature as a man both committed to and wary of his mission.

The film may tease with the promise of a climax more powerful than the one ultimately delivered, but  Ozon achieves an artful level of downsizing with his latest. Frantz has a grace and maturity in it’s arc, understated but emotionally satisfying.

Verdict-3-5-Stars

 

 

Know When to Fold ‘Em

Betting on Zero

by Rachel Willis

According to the Federal Trade Commission, a company is involved in a pyramid scheme if “the money you make is based on the number of people you recruit and your sales to them.” Bill Ackman, CEO of Pershing Square Capital Management, seeks to prove the multilevel marketing giant Herbalife is actually a pyramid scheme in writer/director Ted Braun’s documentary, Betting on Zero.

Ackman has risked billions of dollars shorting Herbalife stock. If you saw the movie The Big Short, the idea behind Ackman’s investment is the same. For Ackman’s clients to make money, Herbalife stock has to drop to zero. Though Ackman claims he has a moral obligation to prove Herbalife is a pyramid scheme, his investment can only lead to questions regarding his interest in the company’s failure. Herbalife stands firm that they are a legitimate multilevel marketing business.

As Braun watches the events unfold, he does a good job proving Ackman’s assertion. Over a dozen men and women tell their stories of being brought into the Herbalife fold, only to lose thousands of dollars trying to peddle an overpriced product while recruiting new distributors. For those with qualms about recruiting their friends and family, they find it’s impossible to make money selling the products. All but one of the former distributors featured in Braun’s documentary are Latino immigrants, highlighting Herbalife’s appeal to the Latino community and their desire to live the American dream. It’s heartbreaking to watch these former distributors talk about the “friends” who recruited them and the money they lost.

However, as the documentary proceeds, Ackman faces wall after wall trying to drive Herbalife stock to zero. First, investors don’t see the problem. A presentation Ackman gives is poorly attended and met with skepticism by those in the audience. Second, Carl Ichan, another Wall Street big wig, bets against Ackman; his purchase of Herbalife stock causes the share price to skyrocket. Based on Braun’s documentary, it seems investors don’t really care if Herbalife is a pyramid scheme as long as they make money.

The battle between Achman and Herbalife continues, so Betting on Zero doesn’t have a satisfactory conclusion, but the information presented makes for powerful viewing.

Verdict-4-0-Stars

So that happened…

Hypnosis Happens

by Hope Madden

Desperation encourages odd, sometimes uncharacteristic behavior. I, for example, once saw a hypnotist.

I clench my teeth, a habit that creates gigantic head pain. It’s the kind of debilitating headache that might send a person to bed. But if you clench your teeth when you sleep, relief is hard to come by.

Let’s just say I spend more money on Advil than many do on rent.

This is what has driven me to the heathen sciences. I did exhaust the regular sciences first, rest assured. No help. Hypnosis it is.

When I called the downtown office, I half-expected to let the idea die. But the therapist – he answered his own phone, which should have been a warning sign – was very lulling and informative. He spoke slowly and reassuringly, with rolling l’s. I think he may have hypnotized me over the phone into making an appointment, but I’m not sure. Still, it suggests a level of skill, doesn’t it?

Dr. Bob, a skinny older man with a flesh colored Abe Lincoln beard, believed he would solve my problem. He claimed to have helped a woman just that week heal herself of cancer.

Surely if he could do for this woman what medical doctors, hospitals and years of cancer research could not, he could do for me what a bite plate couldn’t.

My first concern was that Dr. Bob kept asking me if there was anything else I wanted him to fix while he was “in there.”

This whole idea put me ill-at-ease. He even asked my husband if there were any other things he should fix while I was “out.”

Wisely, George could find no faults needing attention. But still, how was I to know that they wouldn’t program me to do his bidding while I was under? God forbid I woke up an attentive wife who remembers to write down debit card uses.

So I was uncomfortable before we even began, but I was supposed to relax. Really relax, as I could tell by the number of times he sing-songed the word “re-lax-aaaaaaaaaaa-tion.”

But I couldn’t relax. For one thing, I had an issue with the fluffy clouds. I was meant to visualize myself bouncing safely through a series of ten fluffy clouds, relaxing more with each cloud. How do you visualize yourself in a cloud? They’re made of water vapor. No way that could support me. I’d fall to my death. This was not relaxing.

Alarmed that I was failing already, I alerted Dr. Bob to my issue. He switched to a different technique, but it may have worked too well.

I fall asleep easily and at one point, when I was mentally descending my set of ten safe, hypnotic stairs, I realized as I hit the bottom step that I was surrounded by zombies. Oops. Sleeping. Who knows how much hypnotherapy is missed while you’re battling zombies?

I explained about the zombie situation to Dr. Bob and he honestly seemed concerned that the zombies themselves were causing the teeth clenching. I know this because he said, “These buggers might be the cause of the whole problem.”

I’m open to a lot of ideas but I feel safe in saying that the living dead do not control my mandibles.

I was pretty sure they were just cartoon villains that had popped into a dream – they didn’t have to be zombies at all. It could have just as easily been Thundercats. It was a dream.

The doctor disagreed. He looked at me as one passing down wisdom to a Padawan and asked, “Have you noticed their eyes are only red if you look directly at them?”

What?

Unfazed by my skepticism – indeed, oblivious to it – Dr. Bob told me to relax and just say the first thing that came to mind as he asked me questions.

“What’s the first number that comes to your mind?”

“8.”

“OK, of the 8 of you inside Hope, how many of you have heads.”

“Um, what?”

“No, no, just relax and let me know the first thing that comes to mind. How many of you have heads.”

“I don’t know, 4?”

“OK, you four who have bodies, look into the light. You’ve never been punished in the light, have you?”

What the hell? Was this an exorcism? Because I’m Catholic and we don’t take exorcism lightly. You’ve seen the film.

He continued in this vein for the balance of our time together, but eventually I stopped paying any attention – an important part of hypnotism, truth be told, so it wasn’t like I was cheating. And anyway, my head really fucking hurt and trying to puzzle through this whole exorcism thing was more than my brain could process at the moment. One thought did keep recurring to me, though.

I just spent $300 on this shit.

Think of how much Advil that would buy.