Tag Archives: Aleyse Shannon

A Deal with the Digital Devil

Decibel

by Daniel Baldwin

At what point does an artist lose themselves in technology? Sure, tech is now an important part of art. It can help achieve quicker completion of a project. It can also add layers of depth and resonance to it that would not have been possible a decade earlier. But at what point can one’s art actually be undermined by technological advancements? It’s a conversation at the forefront of all forms of art these days, especially in the wake of A.I. It is also one of the questions that lie at the core of Decibel.

The film centers on a young, talented musician named Scout (Aleyse Shannon) who plies her trade in local bars. The crowds that she performs for might be small, but her musical freedom in those spaces is immense. There’s not much money to be had in small gigs, however, so she’s on the verge of becoming a starving artist. Perhaps even a homeless one too. Enter tech mogul turned music producer Donna (Stefanie Estes). A rising, powerful name in the industry, Donna offers Scout a chance to record her music at a state-of-the-art studio in the desert, away from all of the distractions of life.

Scout – apprehensive about losing some control over her art, but also needing some money and a big break – accepts the offer. After all, who can pass up such a chance of a lifetime? Being a thriller, you can see where this is going. And you would be correct. It’s a tale as old as time: if any offer sounds too good to be true, it usually is.

With his third feature, director Zac Locke ups the ante. From a technical perspective, this is his most accomplished work to date. From a narrative perspective, while he did not write this particular film, you can still see thematic continuations of his previous works.

Locke has managed to combine the notion of “fame comes with a cost” (#Float) and “don’t ignore your instincts when things feel wrong” (Santa Isn’t Real) into an intriguing cautionary tale on the dangers of allowing your art to be overtaken by others and weaponized against you. Add in two great lead performances and some striking visuals and you have what is his best film to date. Decibel is worth tuning into and Locke remains a filmmaker to keep an eye on.

Bro Down

Black Christmas

by Hope Madden

In the history of cinema, the number of bad, misogynistic horror movies is too high to count. I literally cannot count that high. So, even though Black Christmas is not a good horror movie, it’s somehow comforting to know there is now at least one bad feminist horror flick.

Co-writer/director Sophia Takal (writing alongside April Wolfe) puts a new spin on Bob Clark’s seasonal classic. (Well, Clark also directed A Christmas Story, but I’m talking about his 1974 original Black Christmas.)

Christmas break is upon the Hawthorn College campus and students are slowly trickling home. Any sorority sisters left at school will wish they’d made other plans.

Clark’s bloodier yuletide gem remains relevant because it’s a pre-slasher slasher, meaning that it doesn’t entirely follow the formula because there was no formula for slashers in 1974. Many consider Black Christmas to be the first of that sub-genre, so it subverts expectations because, when it was made, there were none. Fun!

The second reason people return to it annually is the creepy ass phone calls that still somehow manage to be chilling.

Takal definitely frustrates with phones, although not to nearly the same chilling effect. But she does manage to give the formula a switch-up.

Imogen Poots leads the cast as Riley, and we know Riley is the film’s hero because she has the most to overcome. Poots is a reliable performer, though she struggles to give Riley much character. Still, you see flashes of her talent, especially in an infuriating conversation with campus police.

Aleyse Shannon leaves a more interesting impression as activist/bestie Kris, and Cary Elwes makes a welcome, oily visit as the professor you really, really hate.

Unlike the ’74 original or the unwatchable 2006 reboot, Takal’s Black Christmas is PG13, so don’t expect any real scares or envelope-pushing violence. Where Takal takes chances is with the message that rape culture has to be burned to the ground.

The film is a blunt instrument, but there are moments in the dialog that are both cathartic and funny. Female characters are treated with sincere scrutiny and empathy (except in the film’s prologue, which is just disappointing).

And yet, the leap in logic between “let’s go to the cops” and “here’s my supernatural theory” is so grand, so bold, so ludicrous that you almost have to admire it. It absolutely sinks the movie, but there’s something applause worthy in the wrong-headedness of it.

The plot ends up killing Black Christmas, which is too bad. Takal threads some audacious take downs of bro culture throughout a film with a lot of insight. It’s just not a very good movie.