No Village Required

Scrapper

by George Wolf

12 year-old Georgie (the amazing Lola Campbell) doesn’t believe it takes a village. Even after the death of her mother, Georgie’s doing fine, thanks.

She dutifully crosses the stages of grief off her notepad, and steals bicycles with her friend Ali (Alin Uzun) for the money to support herself. When social services calls to speak with Georgie’s uncle “Winston Churchill,” she plays back a series of canned messages recorded by her friendly grocery store clerk.

Yeah, Georgie’s got a nice little racket going, until Jason (Harris Dickinson) shows up with some reality. Both are unwelcome.

Jason is Georgie’s long lost dad, and he isn’t moved by how many “Get Lost!” signs she hangs up around the London flat.

After years of short films, TV episodes and music videos, writer/director Charlotte Regan delivers a feature debut full of warm magic and youthful zest. Though the question of father/daughter bonding is rarely in doubt, the brisk family journey (84 minutes) is consistently engaging and frequently hilarious.

And what a find Regan has in Campbell. In a debut performance on par with Brooklyn Prince’s breakout turn in The Florida Project, little Lola sports sharp comic timing without a hint of pretension, trading droll deadpans with the excellent Dickinson (Triangle of Sadness, Where the Crawdads Sing, Beach Rats) in a display of mischievous chemistry that earns effortless smiles and solid laughs – especially when the two are giving imaginary dialog to a couple of strangers they see on the street.

“We can hear you, mate!”

Regan takes a core story of heartbreaking grief and tucks it inside the type of escapist wonder a child might turn to for comfort, With some Wes Andeson-esque blocking and reaction cutaways a la Edgar Wight, Regan brings Georgie’s imagination to vivid, amusing life as she questions the worth of a father she has never known.

The script is smart, wry and witty. And while the film may be full of deadpan humor, it also delivers some gentle insight with an emotional pull that may surprise you. Much like little Georgie, Scrapper is a bit of a hustler.

But let them both work you over. It won’t hurt a bit.

Up All Night

Thirst

by Rachel Willis

Part horror, part environmental allegory, Eric Owen’s film Thirst is a disappointing foray into a world of fear and paranoia.

Early in the film, we’re introduced to Jose (Brian Villalobos) and Lucy (Lori Kovacevich). Jose works for a high-powered law firm and struggles to show his commitment to the company, laboring long hours that result in sleepless nights. The crux of the film’s horror comes from Jose’s lack of sleep. Anyone with chronic insomnia might recognize some of the symptoms: increasing irritability, an inability to focus, and a bone-crushing weariness that never abates.

As Jose’s insomnia continues night after night, his behavior becomes progressively erratic. Lucy is forced to consider a possibility from Jose’s past, adding another layer of tension to the horror. The inability to sleep, the mood swings, and the hallucinations lead her down a dark path. However, the reality is darker than even Lucy can guess.

The film’s first two acts manage to ratchet the tension up slowly, but progressively. As additional characters make their way into the film – particularly Jose’s sister, Vicky (Federica Estaba Rangel) – we get a glimpse of others suffering from behavior like Jose’s.

The story’s weakest moments come when we spend inordinate amounts of time with Vickey and her partner, Lisa. The deterioration of their relationship doesn’t fit with the rest of the film, nor does it add anything meaningful to the theme. Lisa is introduced merely to add a possible explanation for what we’re witnessing on screen, but her conspiracy theory rantings make her unreliable. That she might happen to be right occasionally does nothing to validate her as a trustworthy source.

The film’s final act takes a sharp turn. In some ways, it works. It explains a lot of what preceded it. On the other hand, the allegory isn’t effective, and the tonal shift is jarring. Neither element manages to derail the film entirely, but some of the answers to the questions raised in the beginning aren’t satisfying. In the end, Owen’s seems more interested in delivering a message than a wholly satisfying film.

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