Category Archives: New In Theaters

Reviews of what’s out now

New In Theaters

Kids Are Great, Aren’t They?

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The Assessment

by Hope Madden

Director Fleur Fortune’s feature debut delivers an effective gut punch of a sleight of hand. What feels for quite a while like a near-spoof on our collective unpreparedness for parenting morphs slowly into something entirely else. Something more sinister, more human, and alarmingly likely.

In a post-dystopian future where scientists have created an ageless but sterile dome world, it’s necessary to apply and be assessed for parenthood. Because, since no one dies anymore, and it was the strain on resources that caused the dystopia in the first place, children are not grown outside the uterus for just anybody.

But Mia (Elizabeth Olsen) and Aaryan (Himesh Patel) are ready, they’re sure of it. They just have to convince their assessor, Virginia (Alicia Vikander).

Fortune’s career up to now has involved a lot of music videos and perfume advertisements, work that’s sharpened her instincts for image. The shot making in The Assessment is often stunning, but it also informs the story. There are no voiceovers or news flashes to catch you up on the dystopia, who caused what, why we are where we are. But you don’t lose track of it because of how organically Fortune fits this story in this environment with these characters.

Everything serves a purpose—each costume, dinner guest, glance and line of dialog—but none of it feels forced or false. The delicate balance created in the early going, a balance the assessor destroys with manipulated childlike chaos, is thanks to meticulous direction and performances.

The three leads shine, none of them blameless and yet all forgivable. Because the chaos wrought in the film becomes more and more dire as the honest-to-god strain of this kind of world slowly, authentically reveals itself.

The Assessment’s resolution unfortunately feels less sincere, landing far more obviously than the preceding scenes. There’s a predetermined tidiness that flies in the face of the disarming chaos that came before.

It’s a small criticism of an insightful, frightening look at where our future may take us.

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Moon in Her Eye

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Hood Witch

by Hope Madden

Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live. It’s a popular sentence in the Old Testament, one used to excuse a lot of needless suffering, mainly women’s. It’s not the only spot in the Bible that condemns sorcery, divination and what not. Jesus never mentioned it, though. (He never said anything about women being submissive to their husbands, either.)

Islam is no more forgiving, and Nour (Golshifteh Farahani, Paterson) is about to run afoul of keepers of both faiths and keepers of none in Hood Witch.

Co-writer/director Saïd Belktibia examines the muddy difference between a religion’s acceptable magic and harmful witchcraft. However similar the practice, the differentiator seems to be based primarily on whether a woman benefits.

Nour makes a living smuggling exotic animals into Paris, mainly to be used in rituals of healing. Newly divorced and struggling financially to raise her son Amine (Amine Zariouhi), Nour is in the development stages of a new app that will link users to a variety of different healers.

Nour knows it’s all smoke and mirrors. Her impressionable son is not so sure. Her abusive ex (Jérémy Ferrari, sinister) is willing to believe, as long as it’s a man of religion wielding the mirror and blowing the smoke, and as long as it’s his ex-wife who suffers.

Though Hood Witch is far more a drama/thriller than an outright horror film, it does follow a longstanding genre tradition of using witchcraft to point out religions’ hypocrisy and misogyny. But the filmmaker goes further, complicating characters by implicating capitalism as being equally dangerous—particularly to the desperate and easily manipulated—as religion.

Farahani delivers a fierce, passionate performance full of rage, compassion and vulnerability. Nour is sharp and not without a conscience, but when tragedy strikes it’s because of her meddling. The consequences, though, are deeply unsettling.

Belktibia’s pacing and framing match Nour’s panic, and it’s impossible not to panic along with her.  Hood Witch is a tough watch, as misogyny and apathy play out in the film the same way they play out every miserable day, infecting each generation like a poison. The rage that fuels Nour and the film is what feels most relatable.

“People think I’m possessed by the devil. I think I’m just angry.”

There are unexplored ideas and mixed messages that keep Hood Witch from becoming a great film, but it’s an angry, observant thriller and solid reflection of the time.

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Thirsty Americans, Crooked Cops & Politicians

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The Alto Knights

by Hope Madden

What Barry Levinson, working from a script by Goodfellas and Casino writer Nicholas Pileggi, has done is made a historical recap of a true American gangster tale enlivened by the gimmick of two De Niros. Because, obviously, one sure way to draw attention to your gangster picture is to cast Robert De Niro. Casting him twice? Ba da bing!

De Niro plays the aging version of two childhood buddies, Vito Genovese and Frank Costello. Vito’s a loose canon psychopath. Frank’s a smooth operator, a diplomat. And though it was really Vito who was in charge of the five boroughs, it was Frank who brought things together in peace and prosperity while his friend was in exile waiting out a double murder rap.

But now Vito’s back and he wants all he believes he has coming to him, and he lacks the patience to wait on Frank’s charity.

De Niro’s Frank also narrates the story from a place of retired peace, which keeps him on the screen even more (not a bad choice) but leeches any real tension from the adventure. But a shoot-em-up thriller is not what Levinson’s after. His goal is to showcase the machinations and counter moves of two very different criminal minds.

De Niro’s Frank Costello performance is understated, almost affable and he shares a lived-in chemistry with onscreen partner Debra Messing as wife, Bobbie. His Vito is a fun riff on Joe Pesci—less explosive, but stewing with the same idiosyncrasies, insecurities and wise cracks.

The surrounding ensemble (including two actors doing Columbus, Ohio proud—Todd Covert and Brian Spangler) impresses, carving out memorable characters, often with limited and highly populated screen time.

It’s a capably made, solid movie but there’s not much to distinguish it from a lot of other gangster pictures except that  you get two times the star power from the actor who continues to prove he’s America’s greatest onscreen gangster.

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Unstable for Days

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Locked

by George Wolf

The first English language remake (third overall) of the 2019 Argentinian thriller 4×4, Locked streamlines the vigilante festivities for a fairly generic teaming of one veteran trope and one new favorite.

Tech cautionary tales are all the rage, and thrillers have been car-centric back to at least Duel and Race With the Devil in the 70s. So, when the desperate Eddie (Bill Skarsgård) breaks into a luxury sedan, he quickly finds himself at the mercy of one vengeful Dr. William (Anthony Hopkins) and the latest in auto security gadgets.

Director David Yarovesky and screenwriter Michael Arlen Ross soften Eddie’s edges from the start. Yes, he’s a f*&kup, but he’s got a cute young daughter and really wants to do better for her, right?

William isn’t moved. He’s got his own agenda, and it starts with giving Eddie a painful tour around his pimped-out ride. Eddie’s locked into the steel reinforced frame, the car is soundproofed and polarized, the seats are equipped with tasers, the glass is bulletproof, the heat and AC can be pushed to lethal levels, all while William probes and taunts Eddie via a call on the in-dash display.

The conversations tell us much about William and Eddie, and a little too much about the film’s message of classism and wealth inequality. What’s worse, when William disconnects, and Eddie is free to explore the car for weaknesses, he conveniently talks to himself so we can be let in on his thought process.

Yarovesky (Brightburn) has some success making the single setting visually interesting, faring better with the action opportunities that come from William deciding the put the car in “drive” and enact some vehicular justice against any suspected criminals.

Skarsgård tries his best to give Eddie some needed depth, and Hopkins seems delighted to get cartoonishly villainous. But Locked can never develop the psychological engagement of 2013’s auto mystery Locke or the clever thrills of Trunk: Locked In from just two years ago.

And most surprisingly, it pulls punches from its own source material, settling for a surface level morality play without the shades of grey that almost always leave a more lasting impression.

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Spy vs. Spy

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Black Bag

by George Wolf

What is more diabolical: enacting a global plan for widespread destruction, or pursuing a selfish agenda in your relationship, ready to twist the knife precisely where it hurts your partner the most?

Black Bag has a satchel full of fun weighing the two options, as director Steven Soderbergh and a crackling ensemble contrast the power plays in both love connections and spy games.

Michael Fassbender and Cate Blanchett (already sounds good, right?) are downright delicious as Londoners George Woodhouse and Kathryn St. Jean, master spies and devoted spouses. He’s emotionless and tidy, an expert cook, and a dogged sleuth with a hatred of dishonesty. She’s cool, calculating and seductive, with a wry sense of humor, a prescription for anxiety meds and a sudden cloud of suspicion around her.

Could Kathryn really be the mole who has stolen a lethal malware program and is shopping it to Soviet extremists? And can George be trusted with the job of investigating his own wife? The agency director (Pierce Brosnan) doesn’t hold back his distaste for the predicament.

While hosting a dinner party for two other couples who also mix business and pleasure – Freddie (Tom Burke)/Clarissa (Marisa Abela, so good as Amy Winehouse in Back to Black) and James (Regé-Jean Page)/Zoe (Naomie Harris) – George spots the first clue that Kathyrn’s allegiances may be compromised.

So the game is on.

Veteran screenwriter David Koepp follows his minimalist winner Presence with a smart and twisty throwback drama, relying less on action and more on dialog and plot, often staying a step ahead of your questions about internal logic. There’s a good bit of dry British humor here, too, which these stellar performers dig into with understandable relish.

From the opening prologue – an extended take that winds through the cityscape with purpose – Soderbergh seems perfectly at home with this self-assured style . The aesthetic is lush and sometimes showy, but in a relaxed manner of somebody who knows his audience is going to appreciate it.

They should. Black Bag is an adult-centric drama that offers bona fide movie stars, glamour and romance, challenges, surprises and humor. And it gets it all done in 90 minutes. Throw in a fine meal beforehand, and you’ve got a damn fine date night that just might put you in a pretty friendly mood when you get home.

Don’t waste it.

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Feeling No Pain

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Novocaine

by Hope Madden

So, this mild-mannered bank manager (Jack Quaid) has a rare medical condition, and he can’t feel pain. He spends his entire life extremely cautious because with even a minor injury, he could bleed to death without knowing he’s even injured.  But then the girl of his dreams is kidnapped by bank robbers, and he decides to risk everything, use the condition to his advantage and save her.

Yes, that does sound like the most contrived movie ever—no doubt good for a handful of action gags but ultimately superficial and dopey.

Don’t sell Novocaine short.

The film is a smart rom com loaded with action and laughs, tenderness and badassery. Amber Midthunder (Prey) plays Sherry, the flirtatious extrovert who finally nudges Nate (Quaid) toward the real, scary, injury-friendly world. Their chemistry is sweet and authentic. You get why Nate decides to risk it all.

Ray Nicholson is a lot of fun as the gleefully sadistic bank robber, and Spider-Man’s bestie Jacob Batalon delivers reliably enjoyable goofy best friend vibes. A bright, engaging ensemble including Betty Gabriel and Matt Walsh elevates every scene with subtle comic instincts that strengthen both the action and the draw of human relationships.

Directors Ben Berkand and Robert Olsen (The Body, Villains) invest in the comedic possibilities of every action set up without overpowering the action itself. Car chases, fisticuffs, shoot outs and more are choreographed for thrill, performed for laughs. It’s a delightful mix.

None of it would work if Quaid couldn’t effortlessly sell the sad sack loverboy, but he does. Never does this feel like a fella with a particular set of skills. The lanky actor does lovestruck and low confidence equal justice.

One of the reasons the film succeeds the way it does is that Lars Jacobson’s script does not hate Nate as he is. The film wants him to take some risks, sure, but nothing about Novocaine believes what Nate needs is to man up and kick some ass. He’s a romantic, as awe struck by Midthunder as the audience is, and we’re all just rooting for their happily ever after. And some Neosporin.

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Stinking, Thinking and Saving Lives

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The Day the Earth Blew Up: A Looney Tunes Movie

by Hope Madden

I am not what you would call a Looney Tunes fan. Writer/director Peter Browngardt and co-writers Kevin Costello and Alex Kirwan (along with a writing team of at least a dozen) clearly are. Their animated feature The Day the Earth Blew Up: A Looney Tunes Movie delivers looney adventures that are hard to deny.

Essentially an odd couple buddy picture, the film follows Porky Pig and Daffy Duck as their live progress from youngsters with their beloved Farmer Jim, to adults with a problem. On the one hand, the problem is the hole that alien space pod left in their roof.

On the other hand: ALIEN SPACE POD?!!!

Though a bizarre tone and a wild variety of animation styles entertains, the film’s a tad slow moving at first. But once the bubblegum monster shows up, things get pretty fun.

Eric Bauza voices both Daffy and Porky without losing any of the character that made the two popular in the early going. Daffy, that chaos agent, is delivered with the love and lunacy necessary not only to do justice to his long history of animated disruption, but to serve a real narrative purpose. Because Porky, upon meeting the weird but efficient Petunia Pig (Candi Milo), begins to crave the kind of life you can have without a buddy who uses an oversized mallet to solve problems.

Browngardt makes sure you’re emotionally conflicted. That’s pretty impressive, really.

But mainly, he and his animation team make sure you’re entertained with clever sight gags, surprising humor, fascinating animation, and a fun B-movie vibe.

It gets weird, this one. But when the chips are down and the gum zombies are chewin’, these two will rise to the occasion.

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It’s Guys Like You

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Mickey 17

by Hope Madden

People mainly familiar with filmmaker Bong Joon Ho’s Oscar-sweeping masterpiece Parasite may not know of his remarkable skill with a SciFi creature feature. Mickey 17, then, will be an excellent primer.

Robert Pattinson is the titular Mickey. Well, he’s a bunch of Mickeys, all 17 of them. Hoping to get away from some pretty bad fellas on Earth, Mickey signs up for a flight of space pioneers, but there’s a lot of competition to make the voyage and he has no skills so he signs on as an expendable: a clone who, for the betterment of science, subjects himself daily to every conceivable new threat so science can better prepare the non-expendables.

Chief among the unexpendable on this colonizing mission are the commander, vainglorious attention whore Kenneth Marshall (Mark Ruffalo), and Lady to his Macbeth, Ylfa (Toni Collette).

Joining Mickey onboard are his best friend, con-man extraordinaire Timo (Steven Yeun, playing delightfully against type) and the love of his many, many lives, Nasha (Naomi Ackie, Blink Twice).

Pattinson’s a hilarious, self-deprecating charmer, a man who believes he somehow deserves his fate. Fates. Through him the filmmaker employs absurd, sometimes even slapstick humor to satirize our own current fate. Beautifully (and characteristically), all of this is in favor of the reminder that our humanity requires us to be humane.

There’s great tenderness in this film, though it competes with sharp satire and fun action. But what fuels every scene, however lunatic or sweet or absurd, is the heat of Bong’s rage. His more than capable ensemble—from the sycophant scientist (Cameron Britton) to the ego-stroking puppet master (Daniel Henshall) to the guy forever dressed as a mascot (Tim Key) and on and on—brings every enraged idea to vivid, remarkable, too-close-to-home life.

Weaving sensibilities and ideas present in Snowpiercer, Okja, The Host as well as any number of clone movies, Mickey 17 could feel borrowed. It doesn’t. Like the best science fiction, it feels close enough to reality to be a bit nightmarish.

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Art Imitating Life Imitating Opera

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Seven Veils

by George Wolf

Real-life creative roadblocks pushed filmmaker Atom Egoyan to channel his frustrations into a new project. Seven Veils is the result, an impressively crafted and consistently compelling psychological drama of life imitating art imitating opera.

A few years back, Egoyan was set to re-mount his vision of Richard Strauss’s Salome with the Canadian Opera Company. Producers blocked some of Egoyan’s proposed changes, which led him to create the character of Jeanine.

Jeanine (Amanda Seyfried) is a young theatre director given the reins to a re-mount of Salome, which was the crown jewel in the resume of her mentor, Charles. Producers would no doubt prefer someone more seasoned at the helm, but it was Charles’s dying wish for Jeanine to direct, and she dives into the project with earnest ambition and a complicated past.

Repressed trauma begins to influence Jeanine’s edits to the production, and her ideas are met with a resistance that leads to mockery.

Egoyan (Chloe, The Sweet Hereafter) was able to incorporate the set of his own staging of Salome into the Seven Veils production, giving the film’s fictional opera a sumptuous, authentic visual pull that helps to seamlessly blur the narrative lines.

Because whether these characters are on stage or off, Egoyan funnels every thread through the act of spectating. Jeanine watches rehearsals. Cast and crew watch Jeanine. Jeanine has face-time conversations with her mother and her estranged husband, while production artist Clea’s (Rebecca Liddiard, an ensemble standout) BTS vlogs fuel some desperate backstage deal-making.

And as Jeanine complains about the effect of an intimacy coordinator on her plans for more overt sexuality onstage, persistent flashbacks foreshadow the film’s third act turn toward melodrama. It’s Seyfried’s committed performance that keeps the series of reveals from collapsing under pulpy self-indulgence.

Jeanine is clearly working through some things, and Seyfried makes it worthwhile to labor along with her. Instead of overwrought hysterics, Seyfried brings a slowly unraveling intensity to Jeanine, allowing the unease that inspired Egoyan’s Seven Veils to play out as a fascinating peek behind the creative curtain.

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Grow Old Along With Me

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The Rule of Jenny Pen

by Hope Madden

In 2021, Kiwi filmmaker James Ashcroft made his feature debut with the lean and unforgiving thriller Coming Home in the Dark. While his follow up discards the taut terror of a road picture in favor of lunacy and a hand puppet, The Rule of Jenny Pen mines similar tensions. Vulnerability, institutional ignorance, helplessness, bullying—Jenny Pen comes at it from a different angle, but the damage done bears a tragic resemblance.

The great Geoffrey Rush is Judge Stefan Mortensen, a self-righteous ass who finds himself institutionalized after a stroke. But as soon as he’s better, he’ll be out of there. In the meantime, he will berate and belittle staff and patients alike—even his kind roommate, Sonny (Nathaniel Lees).

But Dave Creely (John Lithgow, never creepier) doesn’t think the judge is going anywhere. He doesn’t think he’s such a much, if you want to know the truth, and he looks forward to pressing every vulnerability the judge has, terrorizing him until he breaks him. Just as Dave has broken every other patient at the home—with the help of his bald little hand puppet, Jenny Pen.

Back in the Sixties, hagsploitation (or psycho-biddie films) featured middle aged women with likely mental health concerns that led to various kinds of horror: What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?; Hush, Hush Sweet Charlotte; Strait-Jacket. The women’s age was what made them suspect, the films reveling in the grotesquerie of their images.

Lately, though, filmmakers are realizing that the more powerful horror mines our own fears by empathizing with the aged characters, forcing us to see through their eyes. Relic, Bingo Hell, The Taking of Deborah Logan, The Demon Disorder and Bubba Ho-Tep all focus on the inevitable and terrifying vulnerabilities of aging.

The Rule of Jenny Pen fits neatly into this real estate. Ashcroft’s direction situates the sadistic within the well-meaning. Hospital staff, visiting musicians, family members—all genuinely hope to make the world better for these patients. But this is a world Dave knows well, and he exploits every opportunity to wield his and Jenny’s sadistic power.

Lithgow’s a maniac, making the most of his substantial physical presence among the fragile patients and delivering the most unseemly moments with relish. And Rush is his absolute equal. The veteran broadcasts pomposity with rigid authenticity that only lends power to the judge’s most helpless moments.