All posts by maddwolf
Bombs Away
Midway
by George Wolf
After Independence Day, 2012, The Day After Tomorrow and more, the book on Roland Emmerich is fairly easy to read: expect spectacle over storytelling.
Midway is Emmerich’s latest, and that checks out.
A grand production respectfully dedicated to the American and Japanese forces that fought the legendary battle, the film does have heart in all the right places. But too often, it feels more inspired by war movies than the real thing.
Patrick Wilson is Edwin Layton, whose description as “the best intelligence officer I’ve ever known” gives us an early introduction into screenwriter Wes Tooke’s plan for character development.
“I told you she was a firecracker!”
“He’s the most brilliant man I know.”
“Best pilot in the world!”
“Knock off the cowboy b.s.!”
Layton still feels guilty about the intelligence failures of Pearl Harbor, and he pleads with Admiral Nimitz (Woody Harrelson) to trust his prediction of an upcoming Japanese invasion of Midway Island.
Names such as Nimitz and Halsey (Dennis Quaid) may be the only ones familiar to non history buffs, but no matter, none of the characters feel real anyway. They’re just humans who pose nicely while spouting the dialog of actors explaining things to an audience.
So much for the storytelling, now for the spectacle.
It’s pretty damn thrilling.
When the battles are raging, especially in the air, Midway soars. Constructed with precision and clarity, these extended set pieces allow Emmerich to indulge his showy instincts for maximum payoff.
Director John Ford famously filmed on Midway Island while the battle took shape. Emmerich and Tooke don’t ignore that fact, a not so subtle reminder that this is their movie about war, and they’re going big!
And about half the time, that’s not a bad thing.
When it needs to be big, this film is huge, detailed and epic. But when it needs to be small, and make this history breathe again through intimate authenticity of the souls that lived and died in it, Midway just can’t stop flexing.
The Spirit of Giving
Last Christmas
by Cat McAlpine
Last Christmas, Kate (Emilia Clarke) had a lifesaving operation. Instead of gaining a new lease on life, she seems to have stumbled onward with a bad attitude and very little hope.
This Christmas, she works days at a Christmas shop in Covent Garden run by “Santa” (Michelle Yeoh, wonderful). She spends her nights lurking at bars and begging friends to let her crash on their couches. In between, Kate rushes to West End auditions with little to no preparation.
She’s a grumpy, miserable elf.
Last Christmas is, first a foremost, a Christmas romcom. There’s baggage that comes with that specific niche, and in a desperate effort to buck the norm, a truly awful and predictable plot emerges.
When Last Christmas isn’t trying to be a Christmas romcom, it shines. The script penned by Oscar-winning writer Emma Thompson (who also plays Kate’s mother) and Bryony Kimmings (story by Thompson and Greg Wise) has witty and heartfelt dialogue, developed characters, and b-plots that flesh out the main story rather than distract from it.
The film’s best moments come when it explores the relationships between women, the power of embracing your heritage, and the scariest parts about being a family.
Even some of the most melodramatic moments are made gut-wrenching by Clarke’s honest and genuine performance. “They took a part of me and they threw it away.” She cries, and you feel it.
If this film had been written as a family drama or a late-in-life coming of age, it would be a strong seasonal flick. Director Paul Feig (Bridesmaids, The Heat, Spy) has shown time and time again that he can do female comedy, and do it well, but the expectations and trappings of this specific and outdated genre hold him back.
In the end, if you enjoy a good romcom, Last Christmas soars far above any of its recent direct-to-Netflix counterparts. If you already roll your eyes when men work hard to convince messy women that they are, in fact, worthy of love – this one’s not for you.
Yo, Ho, Ho and a Bottle of Fun
Lake Michigan Monster
by Brandon Thomas
Sometimes, you stumble upon a movie so farcical and so nonsensical that you can’t help but sit up and pay extra attention. With its over-the-top cast, flamboyant direction, and zany plots, Lake Michigan Monster is exactly that kind of movie.
Eccentric nautical extraordinaire, Captain Seafield (played by director, writer, producer Ryland Brickson Cole Tews), has hired a crew of professionals to help him kill the sea monster that murdered his father. Along for the ride are “weapons expert,” Sean Shaughnessy (a name that will stick with you in its repetition), “sonar person”, Nedge Pepsi, and former Nautical Athletes adVenture Yunit (NAVY – get it?) officer Dick Flynn. Together, these heroes scour the shores of Lake Michigan hoping to reel in and kill the vicious creature.
There’s a crackling energy to Lake Michigan Monster that’s reminiscent of the early films of Sam Raimi and Peter Jackson. The devil-may-care attitude that led The Evil Dead and Bad Taste to cult royalty is present in every frame of this entertaining creature feature. Tews begins his movie at a sprint and never lets up on the gags, monster attacks and cheesy jokes for the next 78 minutes.
Have I mentioned how funny this movie is? The jokes have a juvenile charm to them that keeps the tone light-hearted. Mean humor doesn’t appear to be in Tews’s vocabulary. Yes, characters die, but they do so with such whimsey way that you end up smiling and laughing more than weeping.
The characters in the film are essentially live-action cartoon characters. Leading the pack is the director himself as Seafield. Tews’s comic timing is impeccable as he plays the fearless sea captain as a mix between Popeye the Sailor and Homer Simpson.
It would be a mistake not to mention the incredible look of the film. Shot on grainy, black and white 16mm film stock, Lake Michigan Monster looks right at home next to the old school monster movies it’s paying homage to. The film’s visual effects often look way better than its $7,000 budget should allow. Sure, these aren’t Lord of the Rings level effects work, but they more than suffice for this B-movie throw-back.
Lake Michigan Monster manages to make the most out of its limited resources. What the movie lacks in budget, it more than makes up for with old fashioned ingenuity and enthusiasm.
What’s Up, Doc?
Doctor Sleep
by Hope Madden and George Wolf
The Shining was always going to be a hard act to follow, even for Stephen King.
But as soon as King revisited the horror with Doctor Sleep, the bigger challenge instantly fell to whomever was tasked with bringing it to the screen.
That would be writer/director Mike Flanagan, who’s trying on two pairs of pretty big shoes. His vision will not only be judged next to one of the most iconic horror films of all time, but also by the source author who famously doesn’t like that film.
While Doctor Sleep does often feel as if Flanagan is trying to serve two (or more) masters, it ultimately finds enough common ground to become an effective, if only mildly frightening return trip.
After surviving the attempted redrum, adult Dan Torrence (Ewan McGregor) is struggling to stay clean and sober. He’s quietly earning his chips, and is even enjoying a long distance “shine” relationship with the teenaged Abra (Kyliegh Curran).
But Abra and her unusually advanced gifts have also attracted the attention of Rose the Hat (Rebecca Ferguson, sweetly menacing) and her cult of undead travelers. Similarly gifted, Rose and her band seek out young shiners, feeding on their powers to remain immortal.
Flanagan breaks the spooky spell to dive into terror in a truly unnerving sequence between Ferguson’s gang and a shiny little baseball player (Jacob Tremblay). Effectively gritty and hard to shake, it is the one moment the film fully embraces its horror lineage.
Reportedly, Flanagan had to convince King that it is Kubrick’s version of The Shining that reigns in popular culture (as it should), and that their new film should reflect that. Smart move, as is the choice to hit you early with lookalike actors in those famous roles from 1980.
Is it jarring seeing new faces as young Danny, Wendy, Dick Halloran and more? Yes it is, but as the film unfolds you see Flanagan had little choice but to go that route, and better to get comfy with it by the time Dan is back among the ghosts of the Overlook hotel.
King has made it clear he needed more emotional connection to his characters than Kubrick’s film provided. McGregor helps bridge that gap, finding a childlike quality beneath the ugly, protective layers that have kept Danny Torrence from dealing with a horrific past.
Flanagan (Oculus, Hush, Before I Wake, Gerald’s Game) stumbles most when he relies on awkward (and in some cases, needless) exposition to clarify and articulate answers. Kubrick was stingy in that regard, which was one of The Shining‘s great strengths. Questions are scary, answers seldom are.
Whatever the film’s setbacks and faults, it is good fun getting back to the Overlook and catching the many Shining callbacks (including a cameo from Danny Lloyd, the original Danny Torrence). Flanagan’s vision does suffer by comparison, but how could it not? Give him credit for ignoring that fact and diving in, leaving no question that he’s as eager to see what’s around each corner as we are.
Doctor Sleep can’t match the claustrophobic nature or the vision of cold, creeping dread Kubrick developed. This film often tries too hard to please—not a phrase you’d associate with the 1980 film. The result is a movie that never seems to truly find its own voice.
It’s no masterpiece, but check in and you’ll find a satisfying, generally spooky time.
Uncaged
Primal
by Hope Madden
The first question to ask when evaluating any new Nicolas Cage movie: Insanity, inanity or a bit of both?
Primal looks like it could be a good balance. Stunt man turned director Nick Powell puts Cage, playing authority hating big game hunter Frank Walsh, on a cargo ship headed from South America toward the States. Walsh’s cargo: some parrots, a couple of venomous snakes, some angry monkeys, and one mass of unconvincing CGI he’s calling a white jaguar.
That Gameboy-quality big cat is not the only predator on board. US Marshalls load chained madman Richard Loffler (Kevin Durand), headed for the US to stand trial for crimes against humanity.
Why a ship instead of an airplane? Why this particular ship? Why is this kid on board instead of in school? Why is Famke Janssen (that is Famke Janssen, right?) on board?
Details!
I will not ridicule a child. I will not ridicule sad—nay, tragic—plastic surgery, either.
Onward!
Powell and writer Richard Leder slap together concepts from Die Hard, Rambo, The Silence of the Lambs, Snakes on a Plane, Aliens—and don’t forget Life of Pi. The result is dumber than the sum of its parts.
Primal contains an awful lot of stupid, but the sound is so muddy it’s hard to catch much dialog. At least we have that small mercy to be thankful for.
Is Cage good? No, not really. His inner crazy is set on simmer and Leder’s dialog is far too weak to offer Cage many options for little burst of weirdness. Cage’s chemistry with Janssen is nonexistent. There are also far too many stretches between bad CGI – I mean, white jag sightings.
It’s a ludicrous mess, but not quite ludicrous enough to make it fun. What could have been most enjoyable as insane winds up being mainly inane.
I Don’t Want to Go Out
Bunches of movies available for couch watching this week, most of them worthy of exactly that. Here is the scoop.
Click the film title for the full reviews.
Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark
The Kitchen
Hobbs & Shaw
Ophelia (DVD)
Paradise Hills
Fright Club Bonus: Elvira!
Who doesn’t love bonus content? Well, hopefully you do because here it is! We had the chance to talk with Elvira, and we dug into the most vital of topics: How cool is Pee-wee, what’s her go-to Halloween costume, and why did she have to call riot police?
Those answers and more in our special bonus Fright Club!
Gentle People
The Last Black Man in San Francisco
by George Wolf and Hope Madden
More than just a story of gentrification, The Last Black Man in San Francisco is a multi-layered visionary feature debut for director/co-writer Joe Talbot. Set against the changing face of a city and the nature of male friendship, we follow along with lifelong friends Mont (Montgomery Allen) and Jimmie (Jimmie Fails, Talbot’s longtime collaborator whose story is the basis for the film) as they stake a claim for the majestic home where Jimmie was raised.
The film had us hooked within minutes and that grip only tightened minute by minute. Talbot’s direction is whimsical and wounded, endlessly soulful and entirely surprising. His writing is as poetic as anything you’ll see this year, and the combination has no choice but to combine in ways that unveil something innovative and honest. The movie has a sweet, childlike soul and a vivid sense of make believe.
The friendship between the leads and each man’s utter acceptance of the other gives the film a heartbeat. There’s so much love packed into every sometimes devastating moment of this film that you might overlook the wise and wearied lament of those exploited and left behind as San Francisco booms without mercy.
Funny and touching with a knack for keenly unique observations, TLBMISF seems to exist in its very own time and space, intent to lay bare a melancholy but endlessly loving soul.
Screening Room: Terminator: Dark Fate, Parasite, Jojo Rabbit, Harriet, Greener Grass, Where’s My Roy Cohn:, Girl on the 3rd Floor
