All posts by maddwolf

Outtakes

Fact or Fiction

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Asog

by Brandon Thomas

Since its inception, filmmaking has given artists an outlet to explore and amplify identity. Whether it’s cultural, religious, or something more profound and oftentimes less investigated – like sexuality and gender – film has opened the door for people around the world to share who they are. Through a mix of documentary and narrative film, filmmaker Sean Devlin’s Asog puts an important spotlight on the Philippines’s queer community as well as the forgotten people of the country’s rural areas. 

Set in the aftermath of a destructive typhoon, Asog simultaneously tells the story of Jaya (Rey Aclao), a non-binary teacher, and the residents of the devastated island of Sicogon. As Jaya travels to a drag pageant with one of their students in tow, they cross paths with the people of Sicogon as they struggle with the destruction of their home, and the outside forces of development that seek to change the island forever.

From the get-go, Asog is interesting in its stylistic choices: mainly in blending narrative and documentary type filmmaking. This kind of approach is certainly nothing new, but it does feel like a rarity in today’s IP and nostalgia-centric world of cinema. That mix of fact and fiction often happens through psychedelic realism – simultaneously putting the audience into the emotional vortex of the characters. The choice works as Devlin’s film keeps reminding the audience that a part of this story really did happen and the people are still dealing with the consequences. 

The heart of the film belongs to Jaya’s relationship with their student, Arnel (Arnel Pablo). The chemistry and connection between the two is raw and honest – mirroring the film’s overall form. This is all the more impressive given that both are non-traditional actors – with Arnel actually playing himself in the film. The rest of the cast is made of these kinds of actors too, with results not nearly as satisfying. There’s a clunkiness to the other performances that’s distracting and hobbles the film’s overall effectiveness.

The other half of the film – the part focusing on the people of Sicogon Island, isn’t nearly as cohesive or well executed as Jaya’s story. Devlin’s intent is there – cultural identity being virtually wiped away by encroaching greedy outsiders, but it feels too siloed when put together with the sometimes very comedic and intimately personal nature of Jaya’s journey. 

Even if the more telegraphed “message” portion of the film doesn’t completely come together, the story of Jaya and Arnel whacks enough of an emotional wallop that most audiences won’t notice Asog’s low points.

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Boys to Men

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Sacramento

by George Wolf

“You would bail. I see it all over your face.”

First their first meeting on opposite sides of a serene California lake, Tallie (Maya Erskine) sizes up Rickey (Michael Anganaro) pretty well.

Anganaro’s instincts are just as sharp in Sacramento, only his second feature as writer/director after decades of acting gigs. It’s a witty combination of finely-drawn characters, consistently boasting a dry self-awareness that earns the LOLs.

Rickey favors socks with sandals, giving unlicensed psychological counseling, and milking sympathy from the semi-recent death of his father. Dropping in (literally, from a tree) on his buddy Glenn in L.A., Rickey suggests a spur-of-the-moment road trip to Sacramento – for old times sake!

But Glenn is a husband who out kicked his coverage and a neurotic soon-to-be father, trying to assemble cribs and hold on to his job while his pregnant wife Rosie (Kristen Stewart) exhibits the calm, pragmatic demeanor of an actual grownup. She’s patiently understanding of the boys’ self-important tomfoolery, and up the road they go.

Yes, there are some hi-jinx typical of road movies, but Anganaro’s dialog is always crisp and surprising enough to keep you engaged and curious. Both he and Cera delivering affecting performances that ground the characters enough to hilariously elevate what are essentially pretentious bouts of “I know you are but what am I?”

And why would Stewart sign on to just be the understanding wife at home? She wouldn’t, and Rosie is more than that. She and Tallie become nuanced, interesting characters essential to this journey, and the film would crumble without them and the turns from both Stewart and Erskine.

Anganaro also has a good sense of pacing, wisely keeping things moving quickly enough to wrap up before conveniences turn to contrivance.

Sacramento haș plenty of fun with arrested development – Glenn’s desperate phone calls to one of his old buddies are awkwardly hilarious. But the film’s heart comes from those moments when boys (and girls, too) start accepting the responsibilities of adulthood. It’s far from a new story, but these characters make it one worth revisiting.

Outtakes

All Hat and No Cattle

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Gunslingers

by Hope Madden

Nic Cage makes, what, 18 movies a year? And every tenth or so is really worth watching, maybe because it’s fun, often solely because he’s a lunatic, and once in a long while you get a Pig, a Dream Scenario, a Mandy. But more often than not you get a Gunslingers.

Written and directed by Brian Skiba, the film opens with the worst AI New York skyline, circa 1904, you’ve ever seen. The scene that sets up the film amounts to a handful of quick cuts, gunshot sounds, and the worst CGI fire you’ve ever seen.

Cut to four years later and Thomas Keller (Stephen Dorff, a consistently solid actor who deserves better roles) is looking for the mythical town of Redemption, Kentucky. There he can lay down his guns and his name and take on a new, peaceful life, like every other citizen. It’s a town full of wanted men who’ve found…subtlety is not Skiba’s strong suit.

Hold your horses! That guy who was badly CGI burned? He’s on Thomas’s trail! And so is Val (Heather Graham), an “old friend” with a 4-year-old in tow. Who could be the father? What could Val want in Redemption? And how much exposition can Heather Graham be tasked with blurting out at opportune moments?

Well, old Thomas hasn’t been a citizen of Redemption long, but he’s already got friends in Redemption: town leader Jericho (Costas Mandylor); his daughter, the bartender (Scarlet Rose Stallone); his righthand law man (Tzi Ma in the worst wig you’ve ever seen onscreen); and the town religious zealot (Cage, dressed so anachronistically like a late ‘60s hippie it’s ludicrous).

Gunslingers feels like a grade school play written by a precocious 4th grader who watched a lot of Spaghetti Westerns. Skiba presents all the main beats of the genre with none of the connective tissue that gives them context or purpose. Every scene is contrivance plus shoot out plus convenient plot turn plus Val shouting exposition followed by Cage brandishing some kind of inexplicable tracheotomy sound to his vocal delivery.

It’s probably not the worst movie Cage has made, but lord, it is not good.

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Audacity to Burn

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Thank You Very Much

by George Wolf

Watching Thank You Very Much, you can’t help but wonder how this might land for someone who didn’t live through the Andy Kaufman phenomenon. He was such a pop culture anomaly that even the best explanation wouldn’t completely clue in the uninitiated.

That’s a compliment to Kaufman’s fearless approach to comedy. And to director Alex Braverman’s credit, he assumes you’re coming to his film hoping for a better understanding of the maverick you remember.

Braverman, a veteran TV director and cinematographer, is blessed with some great archival footage, and some very personal interviews with Kaufman’s former girlfriend Lynne Marguiles and his partner in performance art hi-jinx, Bob Zmuda.

Kaufman’s greatest hits – from Mighty Mouse to Elvis to ice cream to Taxi to Tony Clifton and wrestling women – are all here, along with an acceptable summation for newbies about Kaufman’s goals as an entertainer.

From his start at the comedy clubs, Kaufman didn’t tell jokes. Instead, he wielded a brazen “audacity to burn stage time,” and gradually turned that into a quest to blur performance lines until his audience had only one reaction.

“Was that for real?”

It’s all a fine reminder of Kaufman’s unique legacy, but the film makes its best mark by deconstructing his motivations with as clear of a lens as we’re likely to get. We see a young boy deeply affected his grandfather’s death, a restless soul embracing transcendental meditation and a wrestling fan influenced by “Nature Boy” Buddy Rogers.

Plus, we meet the real life inspiration for Latka Gravas!

Braverman also rolls out a succession of interviews with fellow comics, co-stars and admirers, though many of these are dated by fashion or hairstyle and appear more self-indulgent than essential. What isn’t stale is the sly way Braverman is able to make the obnoxious Clifton and his manufactured outrage seem pretty damn prescient.

Thank You Very Much.

Did you read that with Latka’s voice in you head? Then don’t miss this film.

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A Mother’s Burden

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Eric LaRue

by Hope Madden

The film Eric LaRue pairs two of modern cinema’s most talented and least appreciated actors: Judy Greer and Michael Shannon. Intriguingly, Shannon doesn’t appear onscreen. Instead, he makes his feature directorial debut with this emotionally raw drama about a mother’s spiral after her son murders three of his classmates.

As we meet Janice (Greer), she’s struggling just to make it through a grocery store when she runs into Pastor Steve (Paul Sparks, pitch perfect). The dynamic these two actors and their director develop in this crucial scene sets the tone for a movie unafraid to get messy and stay there.

Pastor Steve wants to help. He sincerely does. He doesn’t want to think about what happened, doesn’t want to blame anybody for anything, doesn’t want to rehash the ugliness of the incident. He wants to help this woman clean her wounds and end the infection, but definitely does not want her ripping off any scabs to get there.

Likewise, across town at the more evangelical Redeemer church, Janice’s husband Ron (Alexander Skarsgård) is being wooed into an even cleaner and more complete erasure of his pain by giving his burden to Jesus.

Janice is just not sure any of this helps. And even if it does, it’s not the help she wants.

Shannon directs a script by Brett Neveu, the screen adaptation of his own stage play. It’s a tough story, and one that’s been covered by some outstanding indie films: Fran Kranz’s 2021 chamber piece Mass, and Lynne Ramsay’s 2011 masterpiece We Need to Talk About Kevin ranking among the best.  

Eric LaRue leans closer to Mass in that it examines the influence of religion on the grief, shame, and anger left after such a crime. But Shannon mines his material for a different outcome. A single moment of surreal absurdism (in a booth at Cracklin’ Jane’s restaurant) underscores the film’s cynicism concerning the good-faith efforts of religion to end suffering.

Skarsgård breaks your heart as an awkward, broken man trying desperately to move past his pain. A supporting cast including Tracy Letts, Lawrence Grimm, Kate Arrington, Nation Sage Henrikson, and especially Annie Parisse, delivers precise and authentic turns. But it’s Greer whose powerful performance—full of anger, shame, regret, longing, disappointment and most of all weariness—plays across her face in ways that seem achingly real.

Not everything works, but every performance is remarkable and there is bravery and power behind the message that life and death are messy things.

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Freaks Off the Leash

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Freaky Tales

by George Wolf

Look, I’m not saying I didn’t expect someone to make a Sleepy-Floyd-as-a-ninja-assassin horror comedy. I am saying I didn’t expect it to be Boden and Fleck.

Eric “Sleepy” Floyd played thirteen years in the NBA, making the All Star team in 1987 as a member of the Golden State Warriors. Freaky Tales makes him the heroic centerpiece of a wild anthology that loves the late 80s, Oakland, and Nazis dying some horrible deaths.

Let’s party!

Ryan Fleck may be an Oakland native, but his films with partner Anna Boden haven’t primed us for this campy, Grindhouse detour. Breaking in with the standout indie dramas Half Nelson and Sugar, they moved closer to the mainstream with the road tripping gamblers of Mississippi Grind before giving Captain Marvel a satisfying MCU debut in 2019.

Freaky Tales feels like a return to a low budget indie mindset, where ambitious and energetic newcomers want to showcase their favorite movies, music, and neighborhoods while they splatter blood and blow shit up.

The tone is set in the first of four chapters, when local skinheads make a habit of busting up a punk club. Pushed too far, the young, pierced pacifists decide to take bloody revenge with the help of a Scott Pilgrim aesthetic and a glowing green substance seemingly from another world.

Episodes two and three back off on the bloodletting, but begin interconnecting the tales with shared characters. A racist cop (Ben Mendelsohn) harasses two ice cream shop clerks (Normani, Dominique Thorne) before they get the chance to battle rap star Too $hort (DeMario Symba Driver, although the real rapper is also in the cast) onstage at a local hip hop club.

Meanwhile, an organized crime enforcer on the way to losing all he cares about (Pedro Pascal) disappoints a snobbish video rental guy (Tom Hanks in a fun cameo) while references to Sleepy Floyd (Insecure‘s Jay Ellis) get more and more frequent.

Part four brings everything together in an explosion of Metallica metal and Tarrantino-esque alternative history, with Floyd slicing up enough bad guys to impress Uma Thurman before breaking out the break dancing that runs beside the closing credits.

If you haven’t guessed, this is a crazy ride that has plenty to offer fans of bloody fun and WTF plot turns. And while the middle chapters sometimes tread water compared with the action splatter of parts one and four, give Boden and Fleck credit for throwing us one we didn’t see coming.

Buried under all this blood and camp, the film displays a genuine love of time, place and genre that you cannot ignore. These Freaky Tales are truly off the leash, usually in the best possible way.

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Boys of Summer

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Hell of a Summer

by Hope Madden

Finn Wolfhard and Billy Bryk are not the first to send up the summer camp slasher. They may not even be the first this year. But that fact doesn’t make Hell of a Summer any less delightful.

The co-directors and co-writers are also co-stars, playing two best friends returning to their beloved Camp Pinewood for the first time as counselors rather than campers. Bryk’s Bobby is a wannabe Romeo hoping to score. Wolfhard’s Chris is a little more enlightened.

“Single use plastics are the real killer.”

Among the charms the writers bring to the film is the ironically unironic Gen Z humor, which can’t help but set the film apart from similarly themed comedies. The pair also invest in character. Yes, the circle of counselors looks like every other set of doomed slasher victims: horny teens making bad decisions. And while no actor is asked to shade in a lot of various grays, each character has enough screen time that their jokes feel character driven and earned.

Abby Quinn shines as the grungier kid in the bunch, but it’s Fred Hechinger—who had one hell of a 2024, with roles in Thelma, The Nickel Boys, and Gladiator II—who steals this movie. The same sweet natured haplessness that fueled his turn as devoted grandson in Thelma lends power to the trope-skewering at the center of this film.

Hell of a Summer’s subversions are never heavy handed. They’re almost delicate, with quietly observed authenticity that echoes the film’s—and generation’s—underlying, if often comedic, empathy.

The plot itself could have used a few more solid surprises. Hell of a Summer does not set out to reinvent the wheel, and even commits to one of the genre’s most tiresome new stereotypes. (The social media influencer has replaced the rich, popular blonde as horror’s shorthand for victim most deserving a comeuppance.)

Still, it’s fun while it lasts. And Fred Hechinger is a treasure.

Shudder Premiere

Neighborhood Watch

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825 Forest Road

by Hope Madden

I wonder whether Ashland Falls is a far drive from Abaddon, New York. Looks like a pretty area.

Hell House LLC writer/director Stephen Cognetti launched a fun and mainly impressive horror franchise from the dusty soil of the mythical Abaddon, New York, reinvigorating the found footage genre and reminding those who’d forgotten that clowns are terrifying.

Cognetti’s latest, 825 Forest Road, is the filmmaker’s first feature outside that franchise. Though he leans on some of the style that made the Hell House films memorable, this movie is not found footage. In fact, it’s a pretty straightforward haunted house picture.

Chuck (Joe Falcone) and Maria (Elizabeth Vermilyea) buy a roomy old home in Ashland Falls, to be near the little college where Chuck’s younger sister Isabelle (Kathryn Miller) will attend. Couldn’t Isabelle just move into the dorms like every other college freshman?

Why do that when they could all uproot themselves and buy a haunted house?

The backstory—family tragedy, estranged siblings trying to rebuild something—is the first of the film’s many weaknesses. The fact that the incoming freshman looks like she’s older than her guardians doesn’t help set the mood, either.  

But it’s not just Chuck’s new house that’s haunted. It’s the whole damn town. That can be a ripe premise, too. Just not today.

825 Forest Road delivers a little bit of the style Cognetti’s become known for, and it’s refreshing to watch a modern horror film and know that if you don’t pay attention, you may miss an inspired bit of haunting. But in this case, that’s not enough to merit your time.

Though Vermilyea convinces, the balance of the cast feels more like they’re doing a read through than performing. Chemistry among the actors is nonexistent, which exacerbates the problem with the unfelt backstory.

Every reason to do something is a contrived excuse rather than natural choice, and every reason not to do something is even less earned. The movie plays like a rehearsal that could have turned into something fun with a couple more rounds of script revisions.

Outtakes

MOM 9000

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Renner

by Daniel Baldwin

Artificial Intelligence has been a staple of science fiction cinema for decades. Particularly when it comes to depicting fear of A.I. gone rogue. From 2001: A Space Odyssey and The Terminator to The Matrix and Her, filmmakers have deeply explored numerous ways that A.I. can decide to make our lives miserable once it decides to have a life of its own. Robert Rippberger’s Renner is the latest addition to this subgenre.

The film centers around a man named – you guessed it (no, not Frank Stallone) – Renner, who has invented a sort of A.I. “life coach” for himself to help him navigate social interactions. Renner’s life is the cinematic equivalent of a bottle episode of television: stuck in a single location as he computer genius-es his way through life. He’s lonely, however. Enter Salenus, the aforementioned A.I. device.

Unfortunately for Renner, Salenus not only sounds like his mother, but is also just as overbearing as her. Talk about transporting one’s mommy issues into the digital era! This is not an ideal situation for the guy, but it’s certainly a welcome one for audiences, as Salenus is voiced by none other than the great Marcia Gay Harden.

Were this Renner’s only problem, he might be all right. But it’s not, as he is developing feelings for his neighbor Jamie (Violett Beane), who lives with her sketchy brother (Taylor Gray). Are Jamie’s interactions with Renner genuine or will she only serve to further upend his hermetic existence? Given that this is a thriller, you probably already know the answer.

The best parts of the film are the performances, particularly Frankie Muniz in the titular role and the ever-undervalued Beane as his chief supporting player. The sci-fi elements and themes, while interesting, are a bit too thin and undercooked. As a result, despite Renner only being 90 minutes in length, it might have been better served as a short rather than a feature. Still, if you’re in the mood for a low budget serving of sci-fi, this might just temporarily scratch that itch.