On a Mission from God

Shaman

by Hope Madden

Director Antonio Negret and writer Daniel Negret have something interesting to say. Unfortunately, they can’t find a consistently interesting way to say it with their latest film, Shaman.

The film shadows an American Catholic missionary family working with an Ecuadorian priest in a mountain village. Candice (Sara Canning) teaches catechism and English, and she and husband Joel (Daniel Gillies) help Father Meyer (Alejandro Fajardo) with baptisms, school and church maintenance, and they serve meals to the community.

Out playing with his friends, preadolescent son Elliot (Jett Klyne) enters a cave, though warned by the two locals he hangs out with. He comes home carrying something much older than Jesus.

Candice notices immediately and blames the shaman who lives in the mountains, while Joel scolds her to stop giving them power they don’t have. Meantime, with something afflicting her own family, Candice finds that her own faith may be more of a false front, a façade of superiority and benevolence.

What is weird about Shaman is that both Klyne and Canning co-starred in Brandon Christensen’s 2019 possession horror Z, a film where a mother watches helpless as something ugly takes hold of her innocent son (Klyne).

At times, the atmosphere Negret creates offers a subtle but worthwhile change in the missionary horror of the past, which told of either a white savior discovering primitive evil, or in more recent years, a white savior who is, in fact, the evil. Negret combines the two tropes in ways that are sometimes provocative, sometimes predictable, sometimes tone deaf.

Solid performances all around, plus gorgeous locations and some genuine surprises elevate the proceedings, but the pace is slow, the FX are weak, and the story too often falls prey to the cliché it’s trying to expose.  (They also don’t get any of the Catholic stuff right. There, I said it.)

Drunkula!

Weary of the nightly chase for a meal, a vampire begins picking drunks off at last call in a neighborhood pub. Though it makes it easier to acquire a meal, eventually the blood alcohol content gets to him.

Behind the Scenes!

The Call of the Wild

Folktales

by Brandon Thomas

Roger Ebert was once quoted as saying, “No movie featuring either Harry Dean Stanton or M. Emmett Walsh in a supporting role can be altogether bad.” I don’t have a particular actor or two for whom this rule applies, but I am a tad biased when a film features a slew of good boi doggos and Folktales has them in spades.

Folktales tells the story of Norway’s Pasvik Folk High School. This school caters to young adults in a “gap year,” teaching them survival skills in the rugged Arctic region of Northern Norway while also relying on them to help train sled dogs. The film focuses on three specific students: Hege, Romain, and Bjorn. Each of them has their emotional reason for coming to Pasvik for the year, yet despite their desire to experience something truly new, each one struggles with the baggage they carry into the wilderness.

Filmmakers Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady have already shown their prowess in documenting young people’s journeys away from home with The Boys of Baraka and Jesus Camp. While not quite dealing with the same heavy topics as those two films, Folktales still delves into the lives of young people at a crossroads. The obvious stakes may not seem high, but to them, this year in rural Norway is a last-ditch effort to regain – or find for the first time – some sort of normalcy. 

Rarely relying on typical talking heads, Ewing and Grady instead allow the camera’s observations to do most of the talking. There’s a calm and stillness to Folktales that echoes the quiet winter air. The beauty of the film’s cinematography is matched only by the beauty of the changes the audience gets to witness in the three students. None of them leave Pasvik with their trauma and struggles behind them, but what they do gain is the notion that things can get better and that they can be the catalyst for said change. 

Did I mention the dogs? The way the film – and the school – use the dogs to unlock something within students is a thing of beauty. These gorgeous animals are there to work, and they often sense the unease and insecurity of the students. The steely blue gaze of a Siberian Husky is ominous and beautiful all at the same time – something Ewing and Grady’s camera never forgets. That mix of visual metaphor and real-life struggle of young people pays off as we see the students earn the trust of these animals and find comfort in their presence. 

Folktales doesn’t strive to stir up unnecessary drama or strife in its subjects. Instead, the film revels in the beauty found all around us as we try to recapture happiness, catharsis, and confidence.