Tell me if you’ve heard this one before: a bunch of hot young twentysomethings haul off into the woods for a weekend of fun, only to find themselves at the mercy of a psychopath. You have? Well, how about the one where a bunch of hot young twentysomething ladies get together for a pre-wedding party to cut loose? That one too? Well, how about if we mash them together? Alright, now that’s better.
Robyn August’s KillHer is one part rural terror, one part bachelorette slumber weekend, and all parts psycho-slasher flick. It’s a novel combo, especially when it actually involves tent camping, as opposed to riffing nonstop on “glamping” (although there is a bit of that too). We follow four young women opting to “rough it” for a weekend before their bestie gets married. Most of them aren’t the camping type, but the bride-to-be’s fiancée is, and she wants to impress him by trying it out.
What follows is a comedic terror tale that rolls straight down the usual checklist of tropes. Spotty cell signals? Check. Spooky forest noises? Check. Big sketchy dude also camping nearby? Check. Someone they were supposed to meet is M.I.A.? Check. From a writing standpoint, nothing too unexpected occurs and the dialogue isn’t the greatest. The special effects work is also a bit spotty at times, but that comes with the low budget territory.
What sets KillHer apart from the rest of the killer-in-the-woods subgenre? Actress M.C. Huff. She is an absolute firecracker from start to finish, nailing every last bit of emotion that the film calls upon her to perform. Whether she’s being bubbly & sweet, playful & funny, or whenever she’s tasked with dishing out the extreme levels of hysteria and mania that this particular genre specializes in, Huff is up to the challenge. The film around her might not knock your socks off, but her character Eddie is THE reason to check this one out. Huff is one to watch, folks.
To give their crumbling relationship one last shot, Jamie (Ellen Adair) and Alex (Mitzi Akaha) head into the wilderness for a weekend of camping. After a canoeing accident leaves Alex injured, the two make their way out of the woods in search of medical help. Instead, the couple finds that society in their immediate area has crumbled due to a localized outbreak. Infected people are roaming the countryside, murdering and spreading the infection.
The idea of a zombie movie with a message feels like a drinking game at this moment in time. Take your first drink when the surprised heroes stumble upon the outbreak already in full effect. Toss back that second drink when the movie muses that – gasp – mankind might be the real monster. Then make sure you have a hangover in the morning by polishing off the six-pack when one of the main characters hides that they’ve been bitten or scratched by the infected. Movies in this subgenre are basically about checking boxes at this point, and Herd is unfortunately no different.
The film opens promisingly enough by focusing on Jamie and Alex’s relationship. The two actors are more than up for the challenge even if the writing isn’t. Both Adair and Akaha handle the emotional tension with ease well before anything horrific begins. It’s a shame that the film becomes too preoccupied with 3 or 4 other plot threads later in the film to truly give these characters their due.
Herd never quite knows what it wants to do other than offer up reheated ideas and sequences from better films. The drama within the human survivors is telegraphed a mile away – or longer depending on how many seasons of The Walking Dead you’ve seen. Even the zombies – or infected? – feel like a much too recent rip-off of The Last of Us. The lack of originality makes for the worst kind of horror movie: a boring one.
Director Steven Pierce does at least deliver an aesthetically pleasing film. It’s well-shot, the assembled cast is professional, and Herd even has a few decent action sequences. However, a polished exterior isn’t enough to hide a script full of incomplete thoughts.
The one bright spot is the inclusion of rising genre favorite Jeremy Holm (The Ranger, Brooklyn 45). Holm’s presence in the film produces certain audience assumptions early on, so it’s doubly satisfying when the character ends up being one of the more morally upright in the movie. With a half-baked script that relies too heavily on decades-old ideas, Herd is another recent zombie movie that’s D.O.A.
Point of order: early on, The Burial understands your objections about many courtroom dramas.
“Sounds like a nap waitin’ to happen!”
Rest easy. Director/co-writer Maggie Betts and an electric ensemble take inspiration from a true “David v Goliath” court case, and give it a new shine that boasts humor, humanity, style, and a vital sense of history.
Back in the mid-1990s, Jeremiah O’Keefe’s (Tommy Lee Jones) small chain of Mississippi-based funeral homes was deep in debt. His longtime lawyer Mike Alred (Alan Ruck) brokered a partial buyout with Vancouver “death care” giant Loewen Corp, but as the months dragged on, rookie lawyer Hal Dockins (Mamoudou Athie, Black Box and Jurassic World Dominion) smelled something foul.
Ray Loewen (Bill Camp) was just waiting for O’Keefe’s small business to bleed out, until Jeremiah had no choice but to sell it all at a bargain basement price.
So, Mike files a lawsuit with hopes for an 8-million-dollar settlement, while Hal hatches a plan to get flamboyant Florida lawyer and parttime preacher Willie Gary (Jamie Foxx) to join the O’Keefe team. Gary hadn’t lost a personal injury case in years and had a private plane (“Wings of Justice!”), but he didn’t do contract law. Hal sells him on the case’s potential (Athie excels in this scene, completely selling us on the film’s pivot), and Gary comes on board, not only refusing to settle but upping the damage amount…to 100 million dollars.
“Boom! That’s what I’m talkin’ about!”
Gary views litigation as warfare (“Jean Clade Van Damme-like shit!” – legkick!), but Loewen has the formidable Mame Downes (a terrific Jurnee Smollett) on their side, and she’s a young legal phenom who’s earned the nickname “Python.”
Their smiley banter reminds you that the standard course here would be a secret romance outside the courtroom. But it is not lost on these two lawyers that they are African Americans representing old white men in the deep South, and the film is able mine this issue with grace and subtlety.
This is a perfect vehicle for the Oscar-winning Foxx, and his magnetic performance reaffirms the depth of his talent. The spot-on impressions and oversized characterizations aren’t hiding an ability to find nuance. Foxx makes sure we see the heart under Gary’s flashy exterior, and it’s hard to take your eyes off of him.
Jones, more tender than usual, is equally suited to play Jeremiah, a man committed to providing for his large family (13 kids, 24 grandchildren) after he is gone.
There isn’t a weak spot in the cast, as Betts (Novitiate) keeps things humming with a pace that’s rarely derailed by any legal minutiae. The opening statements alone, edited to become a rapid-fire debate between counsels, serve notice that there will be no time for napping.
And if a “cheer for the little guy” moral is all that The Burial offered, it would be a worthwhile crowd-pleaser. But there is more to that title than just a reference to the funeral business.
From the amusing meeting between an admittedly “little bit prejudiced” Mike and the all-Black legal team he must work with, to some hushed and stirring moments beside an old slave cemetery, Betts slyly addresses the question of why it always has to be about race.
Because it’s always about race, and power, and oppression, no matter who is trying to bury that piece of America’s past. It’s a lesson that’s part of our present, as well, and The Burial builds an entertaining bridge between a decades-old court case and a never-ending struggle.
Almost Shakespearean in its scope, with a bold visual style that stands on its own, C.J. Obasi’s Mami Wata delivers a spellbinding folktale of power, of matriarchy versus patriarchy.
In the mythical village of Iyi on the West African coast of a time period that could be today, or could be the recent past, Zinwe (Uzoamaka Aniunoh) has lost patience with her mother, Mama Efe (Rita Edochie). Mama Efe is the village intermediary to Mami Wata, the sea goddess who protects and provides for them. Zinwe is eager to become intermediary.
Zinwe is not the only villager growing restless with Mama Efe. Wild, angry Jabi (Kelechi Udegbe) is calling for a revolution against the madness of the Mami Wata followers. But Prisca (Evelyn Ily Juhen) believes in her village and her people and hopes to resolve the conflict.
As is the case with most fairy tales, Mama Wati is symbolic, the story itself a simplified, magical version of life. In this case, a story of power and powerlessness is reminiscent of communities across West Africa over the decades. When Jasper (Emeka Amakeze) drifts ashore, with his outsider views and experience of war, a spark is ignited that Mama Efe will not be able to drown.
Obasi amplifies the tale’s cinematic quality with breathtaking visual instincts. The costuming and makeup – magnificently structured hairstyles, incandescent makeup and boldly patterned fabrics – give the story a hypnotic feel. Cinematographer Lílis Soares – whose work here earned her Sundance’s special jury prize – capitalizes on the film’s gorgeous production design as well as the expressionistic black and white to create a spellbinding vision suited to the tale.
Mami Wata is a spectacle of water and light. Raindrops on a forehead, seashells in a braid, sea spray as day turns to night – Obasi builds an otherworldly atmosphere from moments like these.
The action sequences feel a little out of place, and performances can sometimes come off as stilted. But the core themes take on heartbreaking relevance, and both Ily and Amakeze offer compelling turns. Plus, you will not see another film quite like Mami Wata.
Based on a true story, writer/director David Wagner’s Eismayer explores themes of repression and masculinity.
Our introduction to Sergeant Major Eismayer (Gerhard Liebmann), notorious hardass, is a conversation in the bathroom between several Austrian soldiers giving newest recruit Falak (Luka Dimic) a lesson in the man’s terrorizing behavior.
When we meet the Sergeant Major himself, he oversees a locker inspection and harasses Falak. He is strict and cruel and the talk from the previous scene has not been exaggerated.
At home, he is affectionate with his son, but there is tension between him and his wife. As the film unfolds, a fight between Falak and another soldier reveals that Falak is gay. This puts new pressure on Falak, as well as Eismayer.
Though Eismayer’s coldness and cruelty could be written off as a reaction to his self-repression, the film doesn’t rest on such a simple explanation. His attitude isn’t just about his homosexuality, but his ideas about what it means to be both a man and a soldier.
Liebmann excels. He brings multiple facets to what could be a simplistic or stereotypical portrayal. Dimic initially has less to work with. However, as the film unfolds, the two characters begin to dance around the complexity of their situation.
More of the film’s underlying tensions would come across with a robust knowledge of Austria’s history and culture, including the implications of Falak’s Yugoslavian background. But there’s no missing the discrimination he faces.
Even as Austria and the army move forward, there are some that would hold both back. Eismayer, himself, resists change, even as he’s pushed toward accepting himself for who he is. That men and women still fear repercussions for embracing who they are is both heartbreaking and infuriating. It’s why stories like Eismayer’s still need to be told.
Director David Slade came out of the gate strong with his first two features, Hard Candy and 30 Days of Night. Then came the downturn of The Twilight Saga: Eclipse in 2010, and Slade has been mainly a TV director ever since.
Dark Harvest finds Slade back on the big screen, and back among teens and monsters, for a gorgeous and often brutal creature feature with a winning throwback vibe.
Adapting the 2006 Bram Stoker Award-winning novel with author Norman Partridge and screenwriter Michael Gilio, Slade blends the period pastiche of The Vast of Night with narrative nods to The Lottery, The Hunger Games, and a few choice slices of Pumpkinhead.
It’s the early 1960s in the small midwestern town of Bradbury, and smoldering teen Richie Shepard (Casey Likes) is not having a happy Halloween season. It’s 5 days until Bradbury’s annual October run, and since Richie’s older brother Jim (Britain Dalton) won last year, Richie has to sit this one out.
And that means no chance at the $25,000, the new Corvette, or the one- way ticket out of his one-monster town.
The monster is Sawtooth Jack (Dustin Ceithamer) who returns the same time every year, rising from the corn stalks. Three days before each run, the young men in town are sequestered and starved, until they’re finally let loose to fanatically hunt down Sawtooth Jack before he can reach the town church.
But Richie is eager to prove himself and claim his destiny, teaming with restless theater clerk Kelly Haines (Emyri Crutchfield) on a quest to break the rules, win the run and earn a new life together.
There are secrets hiding in this local tradition, to be sure, but even though we’re not sure exactly why the prisoners of Bradbury are prisoners, the metaphors here are effectively drawn without heavy hands. Slade leans on cinematographer Larry Smith (Only God Forgives) and the production design team to give the film a wonderful vintage look, with terrific use of backlighting that sets an imposing mood – especially deep in the corn stalks.
And once ol’ Sawtooth comes calling, the effects department earns that R rating, with some vicious bloodletting that proves Jack can be a very naughty boy.
The tale wraps some familiar Young Adult themes around equally familiar creature feature lore. And though Slade flirts with over indulgence on both sides, he’s ultimately able to walk a line that allows Dark Harvest to reap some tasty Halloween treats.
Just when you thought no one could do anything fresh with a possession movie, Terrified filmmaker Demián Rugna surprises you.
Well, fresh may not be the word. Indeed, you can almost smell this putrid tale. I mean that in the best way.
Pedro (Ezequiel Rodriguez) and his brother Jimmy (Demián Salomón) hear shots. It’s late, and the sound is far – somewhere between their land and their neighbor Ruiz’s (Luis Ziembrowski) farm. The way Rugna reveals what the brothers find, where it leads them and what it unleashes is a tale so masterfully told you almost miss the underlying character study and the blistering performance that brings it to life.
When Evil Lurks does sometimes feel familiar, its road trip to hell detouring through The Crazies, among others. But Rugna’s take on all the familiar elements feels new, in that you cannot and would not want to predict where he’s headed.
As choices are made and usually regretted, Rugna propels his heroes onward, each step, each choice, each misstep adding pressure and confusion, unveiling the character beneath even as bits of the brothers’ history organically comes to light. This is a magnificently written piece of horror, and Rugna’s expansive direction gives it an otherworldly yet dirty, earthy presence.
The entire cast is wonderful, each one cracked and poisoned just a bit. But Rodriguez sears through the celluloid with a performance so raw, frustrating and full of rage it makes you uncomfortable.
His counterpoint, Salomón’s younger, gentler brother Jimmy, infects the film with enough tenderness to make the wounds hurt. And in creating injury, Rugna is fearless. No one is safe, not even the audience.
The inexplicable ugliness – this particularly foul presence of evil – is handled with enough distance, enough elegance to make the film almost beautiful, regardless of the truly awful nature of the footage. And Rugna never lets up. Each passing minute is more difficult than the last, to the very last, which is an absolute knife to the heart.
In case Rugna’s 2017 treasure Terrified didn’t solidify his place among the greats working in the genre today, When Evil Lurks demands that recognition.
The quickest description is Back to the Future meets a mash of Scream and Happy Death Day. But Totally Killer offers a funhouse full of other genre wink-winks in a violent, raunchy, rollicking good time that often works in spite of itself.
Director Nahnatchka Khan and a writing team relatively new to features riff on everything from the Disney Channel to Sixteen Candles to Ace Ventura and beyond as a terrific Kiernan Shipka leads us on a life-saving mission back to the late 80s.
Shipka is Jamie Hughes (natch), a high school junior who is completely dismissive of her mom Pam’s (Julie Bowen) plea for caution on Halloween night.
See, back in late October 1987, three of Pam’s friends were murdered, each stabbed 16 times by a still-unknown masked assailant dubbed the “Sweet 16 Killer.” A true crime podcast host (Jonathan Potts) clues us in on the details, and the reasons why Pam is still skittish this time of year.
But Mom is one of the many townsfolk Jamie scoffs at, until her best friend Amelia’s (Kelcey Mawema) photo booth time machine turns out to actually work! So Jamie steps out of it and into ’87, where she’ll try to infiltrate her teen Mom’s (Olivia Holt) clique “The Mollys” (in tribute to Ringwald) and prevent those infamous murders from ever taking place.
And then, of course, she’s got to get back to…that place that is forward in time.
“I hate time travel movies. They never make any sense!’
So says the 80s sheriff (Randall Park) when Jamie tries to explain her predicament via Michael J. Fox, kicking off a self-aware string of consistently clever gags. And the veteran Shipka (Mad Men, The Blackcoat’s Daughter, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina) proves charmingly adept at navigating the two generations with determined sass.
Jamie’s got a mission and she won’t be distracted by these oversexed heathens and their lack of boundaries!
“Hey, inappropriate touching!”
“This mean girl schtick is really outdated.”
And don’t even get her started on the lack of wifi or having to watch her future parents get handsy!
Shipka is irresistible, and she goes a long way toward keeping this mix of blood, sex, nostalgia, a Mandela effect discussion and F-bombs on the rails whenever it flirts with flying off. And there’s plenty of flirting.
But even when things get stabby, Khan brings a bright and shiny touch. There are helpful reminders about who these oblivious teens are young versions of, and some earnest explanations about what Marty McFly got wrong about time travel.
Totally Killer wants to play by its own rules of inspiration, tell you about it in advance and then yell “high five!” when it all works out.
Even before the fall of Roe v. Wade, abortion access was next to impossible for many across the United States, particularly for those in red states where legislatures worked hard to limit access as much as possible.
That’s where Plan C comes in – co-founded by Elisa Wells and Francine Coeytaux, Plan C attempts to get women information and access to abortion pills – in any way possible. Tracy Droz Tragos’s documentary, Plan C, focuses on the fight to get information and access to those who need it most.
The documentary begins during the height of COVID. Access to the ingredients needed to make the pills (which come mainly from India and China) was hard to come by, so the founders of Plan C took it upon themselves to encourage medical professionals to prescribe abortion pills for those in need.
However, Plan C doesn’t just examine the efforts of Plan C to get Mifepristone & Misoprostol into women’s hands. The documentary also spends time examining the hypocrisy of the “pro-life” movement, from the support of family planning clinics in neighborhoods of color by politicians on the right, to the lack of outcry in Flint over lead in the water (lead causes miscarriages), to the reality for Black women in Mississippi who are 118 times more likely to die from a pregnancy than an abortion. The question raised is “whose life are you saving?”
Texas is a major here, as its law, passed before the fall of Roe v. Wade, was one of the harshest in the country (Ohio’s own is currently on hold pending appeals and/or the passage of Issue 1 in November). Plan C’s plan of action to tackle the law is to keep getting information into women’s hands.
There is a sense of fear throughout the documentary, even as the women of Plan C continue their fight. There are threats of violence, even death, to those who provide abortions – and not just abortions, but information on how to obtain them. Again, it begs the question, whose life matters?
Plan C acknowledges that the work has gotten harder with the revocation of Roe v. Wade, but the important takeaway is that there are many who won’t stop fighting for reproductive rights. For these women, it’s about standing up to bullies. Whether that bully is a legislature, protestors, or a group of men with guns, these women will continue the fight to ensure safe, legal abortions.
There have been more Exorcist movies than you might realize and almost all of them are good. One is great. One is a masterpiece.
Is it really fair to hold any of them up against the mastery of William Friedkin’s 1973 original? Well, The Exorcist: Believer flies the titular flag, and brings back Ellen Burstyn to reprise her role as Chris MacNeil, so the film isn’t exactly staying away from it. And with two more Exorcist films on the way, director and co-writer David Gordon Green is nothing if not ambitious.
Green has been here before, recently bringing Michael Myers roaring back to life with his Halloween trilogy. That project came out of the gate with strength and promise, which only made the final two installments that much more disappointing.
This opening statement brings cause for both optimism and worry.
Green’s multiple nods to Friedkin’s original start from Believer‘s opening frame, as Victor Fleming (Leslie Odom, Jr.) and his pregnant wife are traveling in Haiti. Tragedy strikes, and we move ahead thirteen years, with Victor raising Angela (Lidya Jewett from Hidden Figures and TV’s Good Girls) as a single father in Georgia.
Angela and her friend Katherine (Olivia O’Neill, in her debut) go missing after a walk in the woods, showing up three days later as very different people. Katherine’s parents (Jennifer Nettles and Norbert Leo Butz) are true Bible thumpers, and their contrast with Victor’s skepticism becomes an important thread that Green will pull to the end.
The girls’ shocking and blasphemous behavior leads Victor’s neighbor (Ann Dowd) to suggest contacting MacNeil, now a best-selling author who has devoted the last 50 years to understanding what happened to her daughter, Regan.
Odom, Jr. delivers a complex but never showy performance that anchors all the fantastical that orbits him. And it’s great to see the Oscar-winning Burstyn back in this role, but her rushed introduction here reminds you of what an effectively slow burn the original employed. Maybe today that’s a harder sell. But as good as all these performances are, you are just not as deeply invested once the fight for two souls begins.
Green does show a good feel for the callbacks, never going overboard and holding your attention with a consistently creepy mood. The girls’ makeup, demonic voices and atrocities combine for a series of solidly unnerving sequences. Nothing may come close to the shocks from the original, but really, what could? You’re not going to put another child actor through what Linda Blair endured.
Still, 1990’s Exorcist III managed two original moments that bring chills to this day, and nothing about Believer feels destined for iconic status.
The storytelling scores by mercifully limiting the Catholicism, as Green embraces the idea that every culture has a ritual for expelling evil. It’s nice to point out that the Catholics don’t hold a monopoly on exorcisms and that maybe horror fans have grown weary of priests and nuns at this point. Green removes the power from an individual faith and empowers the idea of community, where “the common thread is people.”
But while Believer brings in some welcome new ideas, it lacks the confidence to let a path reveal itself without guideposts of undue exposition. Too much of what happens in the third act is telegraphed early or explained late, even saddling the always-great Dowd with a needless, bow-tying monologue.
What made the original great? Friedkin and writer William Peter Blatty tied us all up in one man’s shame, his inability to do the right thing, and his crisis of faith just to see him sacrifice himself for an innocent. Friedkin terrified us with the most unholy image one could imagine at that time, closed us in a tiny space with this foul idea, and then released us only when one good man died for us.
The demon is again playing on shame and exploiting grief, ultimately revealing a long held secret that becomes key to the fate of both girls. And while the issue this film raises is worthy and mildly provocative, the question of where the franchise goes next is equally intriguing.
Believer spends two full hours telling the story, and it needs those 121 minutes. But Green doesn’t spend them where he should. He tells us too much, shows us too little, and doesn’t invest our time with characters so we feel for the families. There are scary moments, for sure, but this episode does not feel like a kick start to a beloved franchise or a new vision of evil. It feels like an entertaining sixth movie in a decent series.
