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Once Upon a Time in Africa

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Saloum

by Hope Madden

There is no denying the stylistic mastery of Jean Luc Herbulot’s Senegalese horror Saloum. An opening voice-over describes revenge as a river that eventually drowns you, but a wise viewer will follow Herbulot’s current because this film knows where it’s going even when you don’t.

We open during the 2003 coups in Guinea-Bissau. In an incredible shot down an alley of endless bodies, we first meet three hooded men. These men are mercenaries, Bangui’s Hyenas, and they’ve come to extract a drug dealer from the dangerous city. But his escape goes south and soon Chaka (Yann Gael), Minuit (Mentor Ba) and Rafa (Roger Sallah) find themselves hiking across deserts, boating through winding waters, and laying low in an unusual little hideaway near the delta in Senegal.

Already we’ve gone from war movie to crime thriller to Western, and we’ve barely exited Act 1. Act 2 will float between mystery and revenge thriller before Herbulot finally embraces the supernatural horror we realize has been bubbling just beneath the surface all along.

A trio of fascinating performances keeps your eyes fixed on the Hyenas. Gael’s unreadable, unbreakable smile hides true intentions, charms and terrifies depending on the scene. Ba’s mystic/elder statesman helps the film transition from one subgenre to the next and gives the trio a center. Meanwhile, Sallah’s explosive Rafa is a constant surprise.

Gregory Corandi’s cinematography conjures each new genre beautifully without creating abrupt leaps from one to the next. Colors are amazing, vistas are both beautiful and dangerous, and there’s always movement just beyond where you look. Western slides into thriller, which bends toward horror, the popping action the one constant through the entire running time.

Herbulot splashes his cinematic influences across the screen: Leone, Woo, Peckinpah, Tarantino (whose own style amounts to a concoction of the previous three). It’s a heady mix. It’s not style over substance, although the style does draw attention away from the film’s weaker elements. Instead, it’s the calling card of a filmmaker leaving his mark on genre filmmaking.

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Not Even Supposed to Be Here

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Clerks III

by Hope Madden

In 2017, Danny Boyle returned to Scotland with T2 Trainspotting. You know, to see how Mark, Sick Boy, Spud and Begbie were dealing with middle age. The result was poignant, funny and self-aware.

Writer/director Kevin Smith likewise revisits Leonardo, New Jersey to see how Dante and Randall are faring with their own midlife crises. Again, the result is poignant, funny and self-aware.

I swear to God.

For Clerks IIII, Smith delivers a wild mix of amateurish moments, inspired soundtrack choices (that’s the first time I ever enjoyed My Chemical Romance’s Welcome to the Black Parade), sentiment, callbacks, social commentary, and genuine fondness. The end of the filmmaker’s slacker trilogy delivers an ode to independent filmmaking and his own journey as a filmmaker.

Dante (Brian O’Halloran) reenacts the worst days of his youth every day, wasting his life at the convenience store he now co-owns with bestie Randall (Jeff Anderson). The long-shuttered video store next door is now a cannabis shop run by Silent Bob (Smith) and Jay (Jason Mewes), naturally.

After Randall has a heart attack behind the counter, he decides the only way to give his life meaning is to film a movie of his antics at the convenience store.

Essentially, Clerks.

Smith’s style remains a weird mix of sincerity and irreverence. For that reason—and because his leads are the least talented actors onscreen—Clerks III sometimes lands as cloying. But both Anderson and O’Halloran also offer surprising emotional depth here, especially Anderson.

Smith brings back nearly every “actor” who populated his ’94 breakout, and a few of the main players from its 2006 sequel. There’s also a lengthy montage of auditions for Randall’s movie, which allows Smith to fill the screen with other recognizable faces.

The whole movie’s an inside joke, but if you’re on the inside, it’s bound to draw a smile. More than that, if you’re a Kevin Smith fan, Clerks III is a sincere mash note to you.

Outtakes

Nightmares Film Festival Announces 2022 Sneak Peek

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Obstacle Corpse Joins All Star Lineup

Nightmares Film Festival (Oct. 20 to 23) released its limited batch of VIP passes today, along with a teaser of what’s to come at the seventh annual fest – led by a special program called “Returning Terrors” that will premiere the next stories in several audience-favorite genre worlds, each with directors in attendance.

Though fest selections aren’t made until the submissions window closes on Sept. 6, “each year we like to reveal some of the special moments we’re known for early, so creators, fans and studios can get a sense of the spirit of this year’s celebration of genre,” said NFF co-founder and programmer Jason Tostevin.

This year’s special programming is headlined by a murderer’s row of indie genre feature follow-ups that continue the stories in their beloved nightmare worlds. The program, called “Returning Terrors,” brings together three hotly anticipated sequels to films that took the genre world by storm when they debuted: 2011’s The FP, 2013’s WNUF Halloween Special and 2016’s The Barn, with each filmmaker bringing the next tale in the series to NFF 2022:

  • The world premiere of WNUF Halloween Special 2’s “Nightmares Cut,” which includes six minutes of retro commercials and other footage only available at NFF. Director Chris LaMartina brings the film (officially titled Out There Halloween Mega Tape) to Columbus and will intro, take Q&A and meet fans.  
  • The world premiere of THE FP 4: EVZ, the conclusion of the FP series, with festival favorite director and star Jason Trost in attending and introducing.
  • The Ohio premiere of The Barn 2, featuring Joe Bob Briggs, Linnea Quigley and Doug Bradley, with director Justin Seaman attending and introducing.

In addition, the unique experiences teased by the fest’s announcement today included:

  • The return of Sunday Secret Screenings, which will include the Midwest premiere of Something in the Dirt from Jusin Benson and Aaron Moorehead
  • The homecoming premiere of horror comedy Obstacle Corpse, from the creators of the Fright Club podcast
  • Return of the legendary Midnight Mind Fuck (plus special stuffed sickbags), called “one of the most dangerous blocks of programming in any festival, anywhere” (Film Coterie)
  • NFF’s influential annual panels, Social Progress Through Horror and The New Distribution, including distributors and studios.

Planning a pilgrimage to the “Cannes of horror” (- iHorror)? It’s a good idea to jump on passes now, says NFF co-founder and Gateway Film Center president Chris Hamel.

“We have a limited number of 150 VIP passes, which offer a seat in every round of films, access to the VIP bar and lounge and in-and-out privileges throughout the fest,” said Hamel. “Because the program is always so in demand, and the in-person experience is so welcoming and unforgettable, our VIP passes always sell out.”

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Less Fun than a Barrel of Monkeys

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Gigi & Nate

by Tori Hanes

Gigi & Nate follows the story of an unlikely bond between recent quadriplegic Nate (Charlie Rowe) and his service monkey.

Director Nick Hamm’s film tracks the pair’s difficulties due to Nate’s disability and society’s stigmas around their pairing. Running at a generous 1 hour and 54 minutes, the bond between man and primate is thoroughly, though not particularly well, examined. 

Gigi and Nate seems to miss the backbone of what makes this unique story interesting. Threaded by a plot riddled with holes, a strong emotional ethos has no channel through which to flow. Instead, Hamm and writer David Hudgins string together uneven attempts to create a compelling narrative. These attempts hit the beats of any PG, feel-good, family-friendly story, while remaining seemingly uninterested in exploring any nuance.

The story initially paces along logically. It takes a devastating blow, however, when concentration on the human-animal connection is severed and focus turns to a bizarre examination of society’s skepticism toward the human/primate pairing. With this, whatever fuel burning the emotional fire behind the story runs dry. 

Performances, including Rowe’s, struggle to rise above surface level. Nate’s lack of metamorphosis is staggering. We see the glimmer of change directly following his accident, but are ultimately disappointed in Nate’s quick return to a sunny-despite-the-circumstances disposition. The filmmakers never allow the audience inside the full depths of Nate’s psyche, so no catharsis can be earned. 

This lack of depth creates real problems. Narrative solutions feel unearned. Outlandish antagonists are clumsily formed, their stories undeservingly resolved. A potentially intriguing tale from an underrepresented perspective is lost to a cop-out of a resolution.

Gigi & Nate is especially disappointing because the film —though it takes significant creative freedom— is inspired by the true story of quadriplegic Ned Sullivan. While the filmmakers’ hearts were undoubtedly in the right place, their sincerity doesn’t justify a film that does little work to amplify the voices of the people it’s portraying. 

If you’re just looking for your cuteness dosage, Gigi (played by Capuchin, Allie) certainly has her moments, but you’re better off skipping this film and picking up Marley and Me.

Uncategorized

Far Away Eyes

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Honk for Jesus. Save Your Soul.

by Hope Madden

Honk. It’s such an inelegant word. Not that beep or toot are much more graceful, but honk?

That’s what makes it such a perfect choice for writer/director Adamma Ebo’s look at commercial spirituality, Honk for Jesus. Save Your Soul.

First Lady Trinitie Childs (Regina Hall, amazing as always) is launching a comeback. Her husband, Pastor Lee-Curtis Childs (the incomparable Sterling K. Brown), had a little run in with morality and scandal five years ago. Since then, their mega church, Wander to Greater Paths—which once boasted more than 10,000 congregants—has been shuttered.

Well, no more! That scandal is almost behind them (there’s the issue of one hold out in the settlement…) and this dynamic duo is ready. And they want people to know, which is why Lee-Curtis agreed to let a documentary crew follow them as they prepare for their upcoming Easter Sunday resurrection.

What follows is a mockumentary of sorts, although Ebo’s point of view is not exclusively that of the documentarian (that elusive Anita). And while the world seems most interested in the pastor and his past transgressions, that sly Anita seems more drawn to the first lady.

To call this a satire, or really even a mockumentary, is to be a bit off the mark. Though it’s often funny, it’s not exactly a comedy, either. Brown’s damaged, shamed pastor is so pathologically single-minded as to be villainous outright. But Brown seems incapable of creating a character whose flaws don’t make him all the more human, and therefore tender, however irredeemable.

Likewise, Hall, whose performance is more decidedly comedic, mines Trinitie for deep conflict between submission to spirituality or to patriarchal bullshit. Her profound unhappiness partnered with her pride make the character a preaching contradiction in a church hat.

Solid support work bolsters the comedy (Nicole Beharie, in particular) and the tragedy (the late introduction of Austin Crute’s Khalil is powerful).

What starts off as a bit of fun at commodified religion’s expense turns into a surprisingly layered and cynical investigation into the damage organized religion of any kind can have, especially on those who believe.

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Tricking the Scales

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The Good Boss

by George Wolf

For awhile, The Good Boss (El buen patrón) seems to reflect that elusive uncertainty principle the characters often discuss. The more we try to pin it down, the less we know of its nature.

And then writer/director Fernando León de Aranoa reveals his hand in a delightfully satirical manner, only to end up tipping the scale in the opposite, obvious direction.

And that would cause a furrowed brow from Julio Blanco (Javier Bardem), head of the Blanco Industrial Scales corporation. Blanco’s life – and work – is about perfectly equal measures.

“Hard work, balance, loyalty” is the company motto. Employees are family. Their problems are Blanco’s problems. And just when he’s a finalist for a prestigious business excellence award, Blanco’s got plenty of problems.

A longtime worker’s son is in trouble with the law. His production head’s wife might be banging another employee. And that new young intern (Almudena Amor) is returning Blanco’s frequent glances.

But worst of all, a guy he “had no choice” in firing (Óscar de la Fuente) is camped out across the street, protesting Blanco with signs and a bullhorn. And the guy will not leave.

As de Aranoa ticks off the days of the week, there are some glimpses of playful humor in the drama. But when Thursday rolls around, and Blanco’s security guard starts complementing the bullhorn guy’s rhyme schemes, The Good Boss starts having finger-wagging fun with the myth of benevolent “job creators.”

Bardem, no surprise, is a wonder. He slowly reveals cracks in Blanco’s facade of ethical bullshit, while never causing us one moment’s doubt about Blanco’s firm belief in this image he’s created. For Blanco, as long as the scales appear balanced, they are, regardless of the tricks it took to get there.

And anyway, he needs that award and the government subsidies that come with it. We don’t want “those artists” to hog the award money, do we?

Yes, the satirical fruit can hang pretty low, and de Aranoa’s subplot juggling skills start to waver as his narrative becomes more madcap. But right to the bitter end, Bardem can be trusted most when Blanco deserves it least, making sure The Good Boss is a satisfying day at the office.

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Postcards from the Edge

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Root Letter

by Rachel Willis

Loosely based on a video game from 2016, writer David Ebeltoft’s Root Letter offers a unique take on the idea of a pen pal seeking out a friend in trouble. Though director Sonja O’Hara does her best to flesh out the surprisingly bare-bones story, there doesn’t seem to be much for her to work with.

Sarah (Keana Marie) is given a school assignment at school to write four letters to a pen pal. She goes above and beyond the requirements, exchanging dozens of letters with Carlos (Danny Ramirez), who was hospitalized after his girlfriend’s dad discovered Carlos in his daughter’s bed.

When Carlos receives a distressing letter one year after the end of his communication with Sarah, he sets out to discover what happened to her.

It takes surprisingly little for Carlos to find Sarah despite only knowing her first name and the name of her high school. Carlos is able to elicit help from an English teacher who offers him a not-so-subtle nudge in the right direction.  

There isn’t a lot of meat to Carlos’s character. He doesn’t serve as a guide to the past, since Sarah’s story isn’t told through interviews with her friends, but rather through flashbacks from the previous year. The present story doesn’t raise new questions or offer surprising twists to the story. We’re mostly biding time waiting to get back to the heart of Sarah’s story.

And yet, Sarah’s tale isn’t very compelling either. It’s weightier than Carlos’s forays into Sarah’s past life, but not by much. For a mystery, there are zero surprises as you can predict each measure beat by beat.

There are also too many characters even though the number was greatly reduced compared to the video game. Aside from Sarah, few of the characters come to life in meaningful ways. Sarah’s best friend is the kind of woman who’ll do anything to keep hold of a tenuous relationship. Sarah’s mom is a stereotypical single mom drug addict with a bad back.

Sarah’s friend Caleb (Breon Pugh) is our most interesting character, but his brief moments on screen do little to make him stand out.

There is a certain quaintness to the story, particularly in the beginning – who knew letter writing could be so endearing? – but any originality is dropped in favor of a paint-by-numbers mystery. If only the actors had something more compelling to work with, perhaps their earnestness would have been rewarded with a more watchable story.

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The Work of Hope

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Kaepernick & America

by George Wolf

I’ve been a fan of the San Francisco 49ers for about fifty years, so I had a Colin Kaepernick jersey long before he started taking a knee during the national anthem.

And when I continued to proudly wear that jersey, I quickly learned how effectively Kaepernick’s peaceful protest had been twisted into hateful knots of white grievance.

In Kaepernick & America, directors Ross Hockrow and Tommy Walker revisit the protest’s timeline with insight and proficiency. But the subtle power of their documentary comes from its patience in deconstructing how Kaepernick’s true motives were distorted to fuel a racist narrative and a divisive election year.

And for those who don’t know Kaepernick’s personal history, Hockrow and Walker wisely begin with his upbringing as a trans-racial adoptee, and then follow his journey to NFL stardom, to falling one play short of winning Super Bowl forty-seven, to essentially being kicked out of the league.

It’s then that the film gives Kaepernick’s worldview a more distinct social and political context through archival footage and interview commentary (including CNN’s Don Lemon, an executive producer on the film).

With the birth of the Black Lives Matter movement after the 2014 death of Michael Brown, Kaepernick sought to speak out against police brutality in America. His silent act of social disobedience eventually made news, and activist DeRay McKesson becomes instrumental to the film’s success at revealing the historical nature of the resulting uproar.

Opposing views are supplied by anti-Kaepernick protesters and political candidates of the time, effectively rebutted by former U.S. Green Beret and NFL player Nate Boyer. Though Kaepernick’s protest began as a sit-down, he switched to kneeling after Boyer’s advice on a more respectful action. As we revisit the accusations and troop-shaming that were aimed at Kaepernick, Boyer’s recollections are a vivid reminder about just who was interested in thoughtful dialog amid conflict.

More concerned with correcting the record than breaking new ground, Kaepernick & America seems graceful and unassuming when placed against the vitriol spurred by the taking of a knee. But the film reminds us that protest is “the work of hope,” and ultimately looks toward a future of redemption for Kaepernick, and healing for a nation.

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Double Fault

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McEnroe

by George Wolf

Start typing “John McEnroe” in the search bar, and “angry moments” still pops up as one of the top choices.

But why was he so angry? And why are we still drawn to his legendary outbursts?

Answer the questions, jerk!

Showtime’s McEnroe doesn’t shed much insight on either one, but it does serve as a fine celebration of a great champion and a fascinating personality.

Director Barney Douglas interviews McEnroe over the course of one long night in his native New York. John tells his tales in a sit down Q&A, then wanders the streets in the wee hours while the occasional passerby shouts his name.

And what do we learn? That John’s father was a perfectionist who withheld affection, and John is also a perfectionist who rarely let himself enjoy success. Not much is said about John’s relationship with his mother, which leaves a noticeable blank space in the film.

Douglas weaves in the archival footage to great effect, with thrilling tennis sequences and charming callbacks to pop culture of the late 70s and early 80s. There’s also a steady stream of commentators that ranges from Billie Jean King to Keith Richards. It’s all completely entertaining.

And ultimately, John is capable of some honest self-reflection, revealing late in the film how he recognizes his failures as a father and a husband (to Tatum O’Neal, who does not participate, and current wife Patty Smyth, who does), and is committed to being a better man.

But he’s not asking for us to feel sorry for him. And that’s good, because it’s hard to. John admits he had it pretty good growing up, he just wanted a better relationship with the old man. He excelled in a “sport for killers” by exploiting his opponents’ weaknesses and compartmentalizing his frequent anger. Fair enough.

So don’t come to McEnroe looking for a breakthrough psychoanalysis, you cannot be serious! Come to McEnroe to remember why we care about him in the first place.

Jerk!

Hope Madden and George Wolf … get it?