Monthly Archives: May 2024
Hell’s Kitchen
What You Wish For
by Hope Madden
It’s been nearly fifteen years since writer/director Nicholas Tomnay unveiled David Hyde Pierce’s pitch perfect black comic sensibilities in The Perfect Host, a darkly comedic gem of social satire horror.
Tomnay returns to horrific dinner parties, sans humor, with his latest, What You Wish For, a macabre tale of capitalism, mistaken identity, and meat.
Ryan (Nick Stahl) is out of luck. A talented chef lowered to roasting chickens in a hotel kitchen, and in more debt than he can manage to some very bad people, he sets off to an isolated spot in a tiny Latin American country to catch up with his culinary institute roommate, Jack (Brian Groh).
But Jack’s on assignment and soon Ryan finds himself too deep to escape from a seriously demented personal chef situation.
What You Wish For is slow going at first. Both Groh and Stahl deliver lifeless performances, briefly elevated by a splashier presence of Alice (Penelope Mitchell). But if you slog through act 1, a beefier stew awaits.
Tamsin Topolski, Randy Vasquez and Juan Carlos Messier each carve out fascinating oddball characters. Together they bring needed electricity to the film, just in time for Tomnay’s writing to take things up a notch.
Complications, tensions, confusion and controlled mayhem take front stage once Imogen (Topolski) arrives, mistaking Ryan for Jack, the chef who’s supposed to make her guests’ night unforgettable. It looks like the financial opportunity Jack needs, but you’ve seen the title.
The clever plotting buoyed by three sharp supporting turns makes the film suddenly fascinating. Stahl continues to be the weak spot, although his flat affect almost works with the new characters to give the film a bit of levity.
In the end, What You Wish For is a low-cal The Menu. It lacks the purpose and insight—let alone hilarious relatability—but it certainly calls that near-masterpiece to mind. And it looks great. It just won’t leave you very satisfied.
We Got Blisters Yes We Do
Backspot
by George Wolf
Yes, Backspot is a film about the drama surrounding members of an all-star cheerleading squad. But 2-4-6-8, you will no doubt appreciate a mindset that aims higher than a standard Young Adult pandering.
Riley (Devery Jacobs) and her girlfriend Amanda (Kudakwashe Rutendo) both cheer for their high school squad in Cananda. Riley hides serious anxiety behind her outward confidence, but she jumps at the chance to try out for the Thunderhawks, an elite team run by the no-nonsense Eileen McNamara (Evan Rachel Wood).
Assistant coach Devon (Thomas Antony Olajide, bringing some expert level attitude) lays down the law on day one: “Don’t sing that song, Come On Eileen.”
Okay, then.
Riley, Amanda and their friend Rachel (Noa DiBerto) make the cut, and with the championships looming in just two weeks, the girls are immediately thrown into an intense training regimen that will test their physical and mental limitations.
Director and co-writer D.W. Waterson expands her 2017 short as a mix of Whiplash, Personal Best and Bring It On. With writing that’s often smart and performances that are reliably authentic, Backspot urges you to respect the athleticism, commitment and battered feet of these competitors, while not shrinking from the problematic aspects of the competition culture.
Jacobs, returning from the short film, is terrific. Riley isn’t a shy YA teen just waiting for her specialness to be seen; she’s a real world young woman driven to succeed while trying to navigate the expectations at home, on the mat, and in her relationship with Amanda.
Wood digs into her gum-chewing taskmaster role with understandable relish. Because while Eileen delivers one of the film’s most pointed messages (“the world is not kind to weak people, especially people like us”), she’s not held up as an infallible beacon of integrity.
These shades of grey are welcome, and they help Waterson overcome a reliance on shaky cam closeups or moments when certain actions come with consequences that seem a bit too tidy. Bonus points for Amanda’s Ohio State sweatshirt.
And as the championship cheer action comes to a close, you may hit the showers thinking you’ve just seen a sports movie, a queer anthem or a coming-of-age dramedy, and you wouldn’t be wrong.
Which means there’s plenty right about Backspot.
Woke Up Today and Chose Violence
In a Violent Nature
by Hope Madden
When a filmmaker upends slasher tropes, the result often takes a comedic turn. Scream benefitted simultaneously from the audience’s effortless acceptance of genre staples and Wes Craven’s wicked sense of humor. Likewise, the absolute treasure of a meta-slasher Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon zeroes in on slasher cliches to generate fear and horror, laughter and empathy.
Chris Nash is not doing that.
After years making horror shorts, Nash writes and directs his first feature. Though In a Violent Nature builds its unstated plot on your knowledge of slashers, the filmmaker is not in it for laughs.
In a Violent Nature is unapologetically a slasher. A handful of young adults gathers in a secluded national park to camp. They are vaguely horny, annoying, drunk. One mourns some kind of recent tragedy. The fact that we will never get to know these characters by name seems fitting, since slasher characters are one-dimensional by nature. Why do we return to Crystal Lake year after year, sequel after sequel? It’s not for the campers.
We hear their inane chatter, their campfire stories, their bickering and flirtations, but just barely because we’re at a safe distance. We’re far enough from the fire that they can’t see us. In fact, it isn’t until the third act that we finally find ourselves more than a few feet away from the unstoppable killing machine whose point of view defines our story.
And even then, at the end, how far away could he be?
What Nash does with his retake on the slasher—utterly minimalistic except for the carnage, which is generally inspired—is both a deconstruction and loving ode. This movie loves slashers. It does not mock them, doesn’t wink and nod at what we accept when we watch them. Nor does it add any depth to them.
People watch slashers to see characters you don’t care about meet inventive, bloody death in a beautiful landscape. We watch slashers because death is comeuppance, it is coming no matter what, and it’s coming in the form of a hulking, horrifying mass with a tragic backstory.
The practical fx are glorious. The storytelling is clever in that the story tells you nothing, but Nash’s thoughtful direction is enough. If you don’t like slashers, you won’t like In a Violent Nature. If you sincerely do, though, this film is not to be missed.
Amorous Amigos
Guy Friends
by Rachel Willis
After Jaime (Kavita Jariwala) breaks up with her boyfriend of six years, almost every man with whom she’s shared more than one conversation suddenly professes their love for her in writer/director Jonathan Smith’s film, Guy Friends.
It’s a funny concept – the idea that men and women can’t be friends because all men want from their female friendships are relationships. Of course, just to throw us off our game a bit, Jamie’s closest friend is Ted (Justin Clark), who happens to be in love with Sandy (Katie Muldowney). In the midst of all the men throwing themselves at Jaime, Ted is a refreshing breath of normality. And Sandy provides the reality check Jamie needs to deal with her guy friends.
Smith’s writing is winning. The repetition of the men’s confessions of undying affection for Jamie lends itself to the bizarre nightmare Jamie finds herself in after her break up. She wants someone to listen to her as she mourns the loss of the man she thought was in it for the long haul, but these guys, these “friends”, all have tunnel vision. It’s as funny as it is annoying.
The overall feel of the film is less effective. The good script is hampered by a series of lackluster performances. Act breaks in the form of a documentary film interviewing women about their friendships are superfluous. They’re ham-fisted efforts to highlight the value of female friendship, something that’s balanced well in the actual film.
Jariwala bring a certain “every woman” quality to Jamie, but she’s not quite strong enough to carry the film. While most of the dialogue is great and aided by funny jokes, some of it stumbles over its unnaturalness. Several characters are introduced who aren’t given enough time to differentiate themselves. While this works for the guy friends (not ideal, but acceptable), it doesn’t work as well for the women who enter Jaime’s life. It’s hard to understand why they’re in the film in the first place.
But the film is enjoyable even so. Jamie is a well-rounded, believable character. Her confusion and innocence in finding out how her guy friends really feel is relatable. You’ve either been where Jamie is, known a guy like her guy friends, or have been that guy (even if you won’t admit it). Smith’s film is an imperfect but humorous look at how one woman deals with these guy friends.
Part of Your World
Ezra
by George Wolf
“The word ‘autism’ comes from the Greek ‘in your own world’. I don’t want him in his own world. I want him in this world.”
That heartfelt line in Ezra is going to hit home for many parents and caregivers, and it serves as the emotional core of a film that carves out some truly touching moments from a well-worn structure.
New Yorker Max (Bobby Cannavale) is a struggling standup comic who is co-parenting his autistic son Ezra (newcomer William A. Fitzgerald) with ex-wife Jenna (Rose Byrne). Max lives with his father, Stan (Robert De Niro), a former chef who’s now a doorman, and the two trade frequent barbs while Max and Jenna weigh the question of whether Ezra would be better off attending a special needs school.
Max can be an impulsive hothead, and when he misunderstands a conversation between Jenna and her boyfriend (Tony Goldwyn, who also directs), it leads to a series of unfortunate events and a three month restraining order.
And it takes a fraction of that for Max to break it because…road trip!
Max has landed an invite to do the Jimmy Kimmel show in L.A., so he and Ezra head cross-country while Jenna, Stan and numerous authorities try to track them down.
En route to the west, Max stops off to see an old girlfriend (Vera Farmiga) and his brother Nick (Rainn Wilson), which only adds to the stellar ensemble that elevates Tony Spiridakis’s script when it defaults to spoon-feeding and obvious sentimentality.
It’s great to see Cannavale again dig into a role that can showcase his range. Too often relegated to mustache-twirling cartoonish villains, Cannavale displays the talent that can make Max sympathetic, even when he’s a maddening mess.
Byrne delivers her usual, chemistry-filled excellence; De Niro scores with some crusty affection and understated humor (including a priceless ongoing gag about cookware); and the charming Fitzgerald ensures that the film’s big heart is consistently in the right place.
That place is here in our world, one filled with neurodivergent people of all manner and mannerisms. It’s a welcome message that Ezra delivers warmly, even if it’s a little too comfortable with convention.
Authentically Hopeful
Lost Soulz
by Christie Robb
When aspiring rapper Sol (Suave Sidle) is discovered by a touring band at a house party in Austin, Texas, he drops everything and takes off with them that same night to pursue his dreams. But what has he left behind?
Written and directed by first-time feature director Katherine Propper, Lost Soulz is a slow, dreamy road trip where Donald R. Monroe’s camera lingers over the exquisite and the weird.
It invites us to explore creativity and connection. And how the wounds from our past create reverberating ripples in our lives, even as we strive toward beauty and hope.
In the hands of another director, this movie could easily have become melodrama, even trauma porn. But Propper is restrained, elegant in her approach. The performances of her cast (mostly with few IMDB credits behind them) are natural, subtle, and effective. Sol is by far the most complex and nuanced. His relationship with the younger sister of his best friend (Giovahnna Gabriel) is endearing and a shrewd move on Propper’s part. What a great way to soften an ambitious young man’s character than to give him a spunky girl to care for. Or an animal. And there are animals, too.
The music is pretty alright. Kinda lo-fi. Mostly chill. It’s original and performed by the cast. But what’s even better than the results is seeing the band members improv together, adding different vocal elements over beats, changing the words, mixing it up, adding layers, bouncing ideas off each other. Making something and having a good time while doing it. It’s a joy to watch.
Nathan’s Inferno
Pandemonium
by Hope Madden
An awful lot of films are preoccupied with what, if anything, comes after death. Pandemonium, the latest feature from French filmmaker Quarxx, takes you there. No guessing.
Nathan (Hugo Dillon) is our journeyman. As the film opens, he picks himself up from the road—a treacherous hillside lane shrouded in fog. Nathan eyes his overturned vehicle and can’t believe his luck, but soon sees the cyclist (Arben Bajraktaraj) he knows is pinned under the wreckage. Except he’s not. He’s fine and standing on the same roadside.
Come to think of it, Nathan feels pretty good, too, considering.
In a lot of tales, we’d work out the details with Nathan until we all come to the obvious conclusion that Nathan didn’t survive that accident. But Quarxx wastes no time. He knows that you know, and quickly he complicates the scene with a third crash victim and two doors. One looks inviting, beautiful even. The other does not.
What’s fascinating about the entire film, and Dillon’s performance, is the polite if reluctant civility, the resigned obedience. Nathan begrudgingly does what he’s told rather than fighting in a narrative move that’s simultaneous cynical and polite.
Nathan’s story is essentially the wraparound tale of an anthology. Early circles of Nathan’s hell involve witnessing the sins of others by way of two separate short horror films. The first, starring a psychotic little princess named Nina (Manon Maindivide, brilliant), is the highlight of Pandemonium. Told with macabre whimsy and no mercy, it’s a welcome dash of color.
The second short within the tale is also solidly told and a bit more desperate. Again, Quarxx’s tone changes as a grieving mother loses her grasp on sanity.
And then, back to hell with Nathan in yet another dramatic tonal shift. Within the span of a barely 90 minutes, Quarxx explores a number of wildly different horror styles, each pretty effectively. The final act is the weakest, and though it has merit as its own short, as a closing chapter for the feature it leaves a bit to be desired.
But Quarxx is bound to hit on at least one tale that will appeal to every horror fan. It’s not a seamless approach, but it’s never less than compelling.
Screening Room: Furiosa, Babes, Atlas, Beach Boys and More
On the Road Again
Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga
by Hope Madden and George Wolf
From the dust and the waste of the Mad Max Saga has sprung many a fascinating supporting player: The Humungus, Auntie Entity, Immortan Joe. Only one commands an origin story. That look. That arm. That name: Furiosa!
George Miller follows up his epic action masterpiece Fury Road with a look at what made our girl tick, what turns of event turned her into the baddest of all badasses.
Writing again with Nick Lathouris, who co-write Fury Road, Miller invests more time in plotting than usual, creating a 15-year odyssey rather than a breathless and breakneck few day adventure.
Young Furiosa (Alyla Browne, Sting) is taken from the storied Green Place by scavengers, eventually landing in the care of vainglorious leader of the marauders, Dr. Dementus (Chris Hemsworth, creating a fascinating mix of loquacious pretension, reckless machismo and prosthetic nose). It’s the first stop of many on the savvy, silent one’s wearying journey toward fulfilling the two promises: the one she made her mother to return, and the sacred oath all in the Green Place make to keep the location forever secret.
Years pass, and Anya-Taylor Joy straps on the arm and the attitude for this prequel, her arc a suitable evolution from scrappy kid to determined adult to the undeniable warrior Charlize Theron perfected in the last go-round.
Miller remains as true to his vision of the wasteland as he was back in ’79’s original Mad Max, but there is a depth to the storytelling here that sets it apart. We’ve had four films to see what turned Max Rockatansky mad, made him what he is. Now Miller lays out a single story that serves as both a thrilling prelude to Fury Road and a rich origin story in its own right.
Plot does not take a front seat to action, though, so strap in for more glorious road wars.
Again wielding his patented punch-in closeups like a heavy metal power chord, Miller keeps a palpable sense of frenzied motion. War rigs take to the barren terrain while all manner of air and ground assaults constantly threaten from every direction. Miller and cinematographer Simon Duggan craft a wonderfully rich visual playground, while Fury Road editors Eliot Knapman and Margaret Sixel (Miller’s wife) return to make sure this trip feels equally immersive.
The very nature of this installment’s origin story removes the chance for the kind of singular narrative mission that helped elevate Fury Road to all-time great action heights. But anyone who took that ride knew there had to be a helluva story behind that buzz cut and metal arm.
There is, and Furiosa brings it right up to where the last journey began, in an often spectacular fashion that demands nothing less than the big screen.
