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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.

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Shadow Dancing

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The Woman in the Yard

by Hope Madden

Exciting news! There’s a new scary movie starring Danielle Deadwyler—you know, who should have  been Oscar nominated in 2024 for The Piano Lesson and in 2022 for Till? Well, the Academy may not appreciate her talent, but horror does. Deadwyler leads director Jaume Collet-Serra’s new Blumhouse PG-13 scarefest, The Woman in the Yard.

Deadwyler plays Ramona. Newly widowed and still badly battered from the wreck that took her husband, Ramona wakes up one morning to a power outage, sick dog, irritated children, and a creepy woman in her front yard. Give her strength.

Peyton Jackson impresses as the adolescent son, pushing boundaries partly because of his age, partly because of necessity. The authenticity of his interplay with Deadwyler rattles you, each act of rebellion ratcheting tension inside the farmhouse everyone is afraid to leave and not entirely sure why.

Okwui Okpokwasili cuts an impressive figure as the Woman—elegant, hypnotic, and terrifying. The film’s entire cast consists of five people, but you never tire of them and each pulls their weight.

The cast’s commitment, chemistry, and the anxiety they build help the film feel more robust than it really is. An obvious metaphor finely cloaked in veils, shadows, and leg braces, The Woman in the Yard sometimes feels a little slight.

Sam Stefanak’s script skirts awfully close to being an American remake of an Australian classic. So close that I won’t mention the title to avoid spoilers. But Collet-Serra has fun with shadows, and his off-kilter camera work draws attention to how tightly the story comes together.

And, of course, Deadwyler’s excellent. She mines the character for the depths necessary to pull off the horror. You feel for Ramona, but you may not like her, and you probably don’t trust her. It’s a fascinating performance and fearless in many ways.

The film around her is no masterpiece, but it is a solid piece of genre filmmaking enlivened by bright performances and dark, nasty shadows.

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Me So Horny

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Death of a Unicorn

by George Wolf

Man, what’s with all these “eat the rich” movies lately?

Cough, cough..it’s a mystery. But Death of a Unicorn treats the idea more literally than most. And though it ultimately pulls up too safely, the film does have some fun unleashing mythical mayhem and the bloodiest of comeuppances.

Elliot (Paul Rudd) and his daughter Ridley (Jenna Ortega) are driving through the mountains to the Leopold Wilderness Preserve, a sprawling compound named for the family that runs the big Pharma firm where Elliot is legal counsel.

Elliot and Ridley’s relationship is still fractured from the recent death of their respective wife and mother, and their front seat bickering takes Eliot’s eyes off the road long enough to strike what really looks like a unicorn.

Misplaced priorities leave Elliot too worried about blowing his big promotion, so they load the beast in the rental car (“I got the damage waiver!”) and head on up the road where cancer-stricken CEO Odell Leopold (Richard E. Grant), his wife Belinda (Téa Leoni) and their designer shorts-loving son Shepard (Will Poulter) are waiting.

But Unicorns are too magical to stay dead, and they have healing powers that can cure things like acne and cancer. Big Pharma families find those cures very attractive, while Big Uni is out to punish the greedy.

This is the feature debut for writer/director Alex Sharfman, and his high concept is always kept afloat by the underplayed commitment of this cast. Characters fall somewhere between the big eyebrows of Mickey 17 and the dark button pushing of Companion, with Leoni’s dry asides (“Not to be a size queen, but that horn was rather girthy”) and Poulter’s daft Dunning-Krugering scoring the most laughs.

Though the unicorns themselves could use more pixie dust in their CGI, Ortega sells her spiritual connection to them, and to the legend she uncovers that traces the “final girl” back much further than we knew. It’s a shame Sharfman doesn’t follow that thread long enough for a killer connection between peasants.

Instead, we get warm fuzzies, and the point of all this carnage ends up feeling muted. Even with literal rich-eating, Death of a Unicorn just won’t commit to the bit as giddily as something like Ready or Not, and a true lasting impression remains an elusive beast.

Outtakes

Dream Scenario

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Shudderbugs

by Rachel Willis

The ability to dream of things that happened or will happen is part of the family mythology that permeates writer/director (and star), Johanna Putnam’s film, Shudderbugs.

As we learn from Sam (Putnam), shudderbugs was what her mother, Eliza, called the eerie premonitions and feelings that allowed her to know when something was going to happen. After Eliza’s death, Sam begins having these same feelings as she explores what happened to her mom.

Grief, and the whys that surround death, are the main focus of Putnam’s quiet, contemplative film. We learn through a slow unfolding that Eliza’s death was unexpected. A visit with Sam for her birthday was big on Eliza’s mind, as we see reminders throughout the house of the expected visit.

The first inkling that something isn’t quite right occurs when Sam can’t find her mother’s dog. Then, the neighbor acts very strangely. The results from her mother’s autopsy require further tests. Sam’s suspicions grow as she uncovers new pieces of information while spending several days in her mother’s rural house.

The setting of Putnam’s film, upstate New York, speaks to tranquility. The gorgeous surroundings make it hard to feel that something is amiss, but there are moments that unnerve: sounds from inside the creaky old house, dolls set up in cribs and highchairs around the garage attic, and the neighbor who is wonderfully “off.” It’s hard not to be sucked in to the mystery, especially as Sam starts to experience her own shudderbugs.

The film starts off very strong, but it never quite pulls off the sense of dread that’s expected with such unusual circumstance. Sam carries the vast majority of the film. Unfortunately, Putnam’s talents are far better behind the camera. Her acting is fine, but not the caliber needed for such a quiet character study.

However, for all the weaknesses, the film’s strengths are far more engaging. The writing is exceptional, and the unsettling questions that surround an unexpected death lend themselves well to the film. While there are some moments that stumble, the overall experience is worth the time.

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Diamond Life

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Eephus

by George Wolf

Any serious baseball fan knows what comes with that first chill of the fall. If you’re lucky, your favorite team may be playing for a few more weeks. But even so, it won’t be long before – as former MLB commissioner Bart Giamatti so eloquently put it – “the days are all twilight, when you need (baseball) the most, it stops.”

For the men at the heart of the wonderfully nostalgic Eephus, those twilight days have turned into years, and they suddenly find themselves desperately clinging to the last few moments of boyhood joy.

It’s mid-October in a small New Hampshire town, and rec league teams are assembling to wrap up the season at Soldiers Field. Some bellies are a bit larger, some fastballs are a bit slower, but the cracks are as wise as ever and the love of the game has never wavered. And though what bleachers there are will be nearly empty, Franny (Cliff Blake) will be keeping the scorebook as usual, and there may even be fireworks after the final out.

Because next year, local development will bulldoze the field, and these players may have to accept a future without that diamond life.

Director/co-writer (and veteran cinematographer) Carson Lund finds the emotional pull that exists in the space between an enduring game and the souls forced to let it move on without them. The ensemble cast (including legendary MLB free spirt Bill “Spaceman” Lee on hand to perfectly illustrate the titular type of pitch) is authentic and eccentric in equal measure, and anyone who has ever spent time around the ballfield will recognize these people, and the simpler way of life that may also be slipping away.

Lund’s writing is warm and witty, with a sense of pace that is unhurried, perfectly reflecting the one American team sport without a time clock. And at the end of the film’s single day, when the league’s last game goes into extra innings and darkness falls, the cool night air is heavy with metaphor and meaning.

Another great baseball movie reminded us that “This field, this game, is a part of our past.” Beautiful.

But what if you could hold on to those last minutes of the present just a little bit longer – even if you eat dirt just trying to beat out a weak grounder to third? Eephus conjures up enough romantic notions to spur a trip down to the basement looking for the old ball and glove.

Just be sure to warm up first. You’re not a kid anymore, you know.

Outtakes

Fish On

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Tarpon

by George Wolf

So this documentary is about fishing? And writing? It’s set in 1970s Key West? And features original music by a pre-superstardom Jimmy Buffett?

Holy schnikes, Tarpon, where have you been hiding all my life?

It’s been out there like the titular trophy fish, never officially released but gaining a cult following among writers and fishing guides since its production in 1973. Then two years ago, the short film All That Is Sacred (available on YouTube) used Tarpon clips and more recent interviews with Buffett, writers Tom McGuane and Jim Harrison and others to dig into the Bohemian, artistic lifestyle of their youth.

Now, Tarpon finally gets its official release, and an absolutely beautiful restoration that serves as a pristine time capsule to a lost world.

In bewitching cinema vérité style, directors Guy de la Valdene and Christian Odasso take us to the boats, beaches, and bars that formed a local Keys lifeblood, and fueled a creative spirit that eventually brought Buffett, McGuane, Harrison, and Richard Brautigan both popularity and critical acclaim.

The Key West Conch Train driver serves as a wonderfully organic tour guide, popping in with bits of context as the film casually drifts among the local eccentrics, creatives and fishermen (word of warning: there are scenes of brutality to unwanted sharks in the day’s catch).

At only 53 minutes, Tarpon‘s intoxicating spell is one you’ll wish lasted a bit longer. But after all these years of waiting, even a little of this magic is enough.

Hope Madden and George Wolf … get it?