Tag Archives: Brandon Thomas

A Hill to Die On

Pig Hill

Screens Saturday, October 18 at 10pm

by Brandon Thomas

Using the word “Pig” in the title of your film automatically conjures up a disgusting mix of imagery before you’ve seen even one frame of film. As Sam Jackson’s Jules says in Pulp Fiction, “Pigs are filthy animals.” That they may be, but director Kevin Lewis sets up a nice curveball with Pig Hill, one that delivers a more psychologically disgusting film than a visual one. 

Like most small towns in America, Meadville, Pennsylvania has its own local legend: that of the pig people of Pig Hill. Everyone has their own theory about the pig people, but the one true throughline from all is that they are some ghastly mix of human beings and pigs. Carrie (Rainey Qualley) and her brother Chris (Shiloh Fernandez, Evil Dead) have lived in Meadville their entire lives, and the pig people story has always loomed large. As recent personal struggles bring both siblings to emotional low points, the prospect of writing a book about Pig Hill gives Carrie a potential ticket out of Meadville. As Carrie’s investigation into pig hill deepens, so does the mystery surrounding a growing number of women who have been going missing. 

Pig Hill is a cornucopia of a film. There’s a dash of Texas Chain Saw Massacre mixed with a pinch of The Silence of The Lambs, and finally a bit of The Hills Have Eyes for taste. Story and tone aren’t a problem as Lewis (Willy’s Wonderland) weaves his influences together into a satisfying and cohesive whole. As someone who clearly knows the horror genre inside and out, Lewis wickedly plays with audience expectations until the very end.

Outside of a pretty standard open, Pig Hill isn’t the stalk n’ slash fest you might expect. When the film gets down and dirty – it does so with gusto and never forgets that there are characters experiencing the horror around them. The cast ends up doing the bulk of the heavy lifting as it’s a surprisingly dialogue-heavy film that takes the time to flesh out characters. While the cast may not rival that latest P.T. Anderson flick, they all work well for the film. Qualley and Fernandez bounce off one another well, and former teen heartthrob Shane West (A Walk to Remember, League of Extraordinary Gentlemen) brings some name recognition as the film’s romantic lead and pseudo-hero. 

Lewis takes a big swing toward the end of the film that might seem too telegraphed, but it still doesn’t lessen the impact once the layers get pulled back more and more. It lets Pig Hill end on  a horrific emotionally charged note instead of one covered in blood and guts.

The Call of the Wild

Folktales

by Brandon Thomas

Roger Ebert was once quoted as saying, “No movie featuring either Harry Dean Stanton or M. Emmett Walsh in a supporting role can be altogether bad.” I don’t have a particular actor or two for whom this rule applies, but I am a tad biased when a film features a slew of good boi doggos and Folktales has them in spades.

Folktales tells the story of Norway’s Pasvik Folk High School. This school caters to young adults in a “gap year,” teaching them survival skills in the rugged Arctic region of Northern Norway while also relying on them to help train sled dogs. The film focuses on three specific students: Hege, Romain, and Bjorn. Each of them has their emotional reason for coming to Pasvik for the year, yet despite their desire to experience something truly new, each one struggles with the baggage they carry into the wilderness.

Filmmakers Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady have already shown their prowess in documenting young people’s journeys away from home with The Boys of Baraka and Jesus Camp. While not quite dealing with the same heavy topics as those two films, Folktales still delves into the lives of young people at a crossroads. The obvious stakes may not seem high, but to them, this year in rural Norway is a last-ditch effort to regain – or find for the first time – some sort of normalcy. 

Rarely relying on typical talking heads, Ewing and Grady instead allow the camera’s observations to do most of the talking. There’s a calm and stillness to Folktales that echoes the quiet winter air. The beauty of the film’s cinematography is matched only by the beauty of the changes the audience gets to witness in the three students. None of them leave Pasvik with their trauma and struggles behind them, but what they do gain is the notion that things can get better and that they can be the catalyst for said change. 

Did I mention the dogs? The way the film – and the school – use the dogs to unlock something within students is a thing of beauty. These gorgeous animals are there to work, and they often sense the unease and insecurity of the students. The steely blue gaze of a Siberian Husky is ominous and beautiful all at the same time – something Ewing and Grady’s camera never forgets. That mix of visual metaphor and real-life struggle of young people pays off as we see the students earn the trust of these animals and find comfort in their presence. 

Folktales doesn’t strive to stir up unnecessary drama or strife in its subjects. Instead, the film revels in the beauty found all around us as we try to recapture happiness, catharsis, and confidence.

Master of Puppets

Shari & Lamb Chop

by Brandon Thomas

Documentaries based on beloved children’s entertainers have become quite the trend in the last 10 or so years. Both Mr. Rogers and Jim Henson were the subject of wonderful films that chronicled their lives and the impact they both had on children’s entertainment, education, and culture. With Shari & Lamb Chop, renowned ventriloquist and magician Shari Lewis gets her own time to shine.

No stranger to crafting a documentary on an entertainment icon, director Lisa D’Apolito (Love, Gilda) dives into Lewis’s personal and professional history through enlightening interviews with living family members, those who worked for and with her, and industry professionals. While the bulk of the film is spent showering Lewis with praise, it also doesn’t completely shy away from her darker periods: a failed first marriage, a years-long career slump, and an affair that nearly derailed her second marriage. D’Apolito strikes a balance between transparency and understanding that her primary audience is likely Lamb Chop die-hards.

It would’ve been easy for Shari & Lamb Chop to completely focus on the Lamb Chop character and how it essentially propelled Lewis’s overall career. While Lamb Chop plays a major role in the doc (the name is in the title, right?), D’Apolito instead puts the spotlight on Lewis and the professional drive that made her a beloved figure in children’s entertainment. The film comes alive when it touches on Lewis’s talent at magic acts, or her experience as a dancer, and how she put that to great use on a variety show. 

Shari & Lamb Chop comes to a close with a poignant look at Lewis’s final days and how her terminal illness allowed her to make one more professional statement while simultaneously acting as a goodbye to her loved ones. D’Apolito’s use of behind-the-scenes footage from this final show brings us all into that emotional moment. It’s a beautiful period on a life and career that brought so much joy and love to people around the world. 

Despite taking the same “Greatest Hits” approach that many similar docs have done with famous subjects, Shari & Lamb Chop still soars thanks to a steady filmmaking hand and the engrossing life of the film’s titular focus.

Fright Club: Horrific Families

The family that slays together stays together, isn’t that what they say? That was certainly a lot of the fun in Ready or Not, You’re Next, Frightmare and more. But what are the best examples of horrific families working together in horror movies? Brandon Thomas joins George with the full list!

5. The Hills Have Eyes (1977)

Wes Craven’s original Hills – cheaply made and poorly acted – is a surprisingly memorable, and even more surprisingly alarming flick. Craven’s early career is marked by a contempt for both characters and audience, and his first two horror films ignored taboos, mistreating everyone on screen and in the theater. In the style of Deliverance meets Mad MaxHills was an exercise in pushing the envelope, and it owes what lasting popularity it has to its shocking violence and Michael Berryman’s nightmarish mug.

The Hills Have Eyes is not for the squeamish. People are raped, burned alive, eaten alive, eaten dead, and generally ill-treated.

In fact, Craven’s greatest triumph is in creating tension via a plot device so unreasonably gruesome no audience would believe a film could go through with it. The freaks kidnap a baby with plans to eat her. But by systematically crushing taboo after taboo, the unthinkable becomes plausible, and the audience grows to fear that the baby will actually be eaten. It’s not the kind of accomplishment you’d want to share with your mom, but in terms of genre control, it is pretty good.

4. Frailty (2001)

Director Paxton stars as a widowed country dad awakened one night with an epiphany. He understands now that he and his sons have been called by God to kill demons.

Frailty manages to subvert every horror film expectation by playing right into them.

Brent Hanley’s sly screenplay evokes such nostalgic familiarity – down to a Dukes of Hazzard reference – and Paxton’s direction makes you feel entirely comfortable in these common surroundings. Then the two of them upend everything – repeatedly – until it’s as if they’ve challenged your expectations, biases, and your own childhood to boot.

Paxton crafts a morbidly compelling tale free from irony, sarcasm, or judgment and full of darkly sympathetic characters. It’s a surprisingly strong feature directorial debut from a guy who once played a giant talking turd.

3. Where the Devil Roams (2023)

There is macabre beauty in every frame of Where the Devil Roams, the latest offbeat horror from the Adams family. The film was co-directed and co-written by its three lead actors – Toby Poser, John Adams and Zelda Adams – who are also a family. ike their earlier efforts, Where the Devil Roams concerns itself with life on the fringes, rock music, and the family dynamic.

The ensemble convinces, particularly the sideshow performers, but the film’s most enduring charm is its vintage portrait look. It’s a gorgeous movie, the filmmakers creating the beautifully seedy atmosphere ideal to the era and setting.

Where the Devil Roams feels expansive and open, but like anything else in the sideshow, that’s all trickery. There’s more happening in this film than they let on, which is why the final act feels simultaneously “a ha!” and “WTF?!” You won’t see it coming, but in retrospect, it was there all along.

2. We Are What We Are (2010)

Give writer/director Jorge Michel Grau credit, he took a fresh approach to the cannibalism film. In a quiet opening sequence, a man dies in a mall. It happens that this is a family patriarch and his passing leaves the desperately poor family in shambles. While their particular quandary veers spectacularly from expectations, there is something primal and authentic about it.

It’s as if a simple relic from a hunter-gatherer population evolved separately but within the larger urban population, and now this little tribe is left without a leader. An internal power struggle begins to determine the member most suited to take over as the head of the household, and therefore, there is some conflict and competition – however reluctant – over who will handle the principal task of the patriarch: that of putting meat on the table.

The family dynamic is fascinating, every glance weighted and meaningful, every closed door significant. Grau draws eerie, powerful performances across the board, and forever veers in unexpected directions.

1. The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974)

It is around the dinner table that a guest gets to see the true family dynamics. Sally Hardesty’s getting a good look. Like a really close up, veiny eyed look.

The family meal is the scene that grounds Tobe Hooper’s 1974 masterpiece. Suddenly it’s a family with a lived-in vibe and a backstory. And another person’s face. And a metal basin and a nearly mummified old man.

We’ve met the brothersk. Edwin Neal’s already had his chance to nab the spotlight in the van, and of course Gunnar Hansen’s the star of the show. But at the table, the cook, Jim Siedow, gets to dig in and create an unforgettable character.


I Fought the Law

The Prosecutor

by Brandon Thomas

Age isn’t much of a factor for action stars these days. Liam Neeson, Sylvester Stallone, Harrison Ford, and Tom Cruise (c’mon, dude is 63) are still throwing punches, shooting guns, and hanging off planes when most actors are looking for cushy dramas. However, guys like Donnie Yen take it to another level by still pumping out movies like The Prosecutor, where Yen continues to showcase his martial arts prowess. 

Fok Zi Hou (Yen) leaves the Hong Kong police to help fight crime from a different vantage point: the prosecutor’s office. As Fok takes on his first case, he quickly realizes that fighting crime in the courtroom can be just as dangerous as fighting it on the streets. Teaming up with a young detective from his former unit, Fok dives into a vast conspiracy that seeks to destroy the life of a wrongly imprisoned young man.

Let’s get this out of the way first: rooting against Donnie Yen is tough. The man is charisma personified. Even without the impressive martial arts skills, Yen would still be wooing audiences with his dashing good looks, quick wit, and devilish sense of humor. Most action stars are lucky to have one of those qualities. 

Yen – also serving as the film’s director – isn’t afraid to touch on his character’s (and his own?) age. Fok routinely comments on how he’s aged out of running down bad guys on the streets. You’d never know it, though, as Yen doles out serious whoopins with ease. It’d be easy to see this subtle commentary as Yen taking a meta look in the mirror.

And speaking of the action, while it might be a bit more sparse than I would’ve liked, when the movie comes alive – it really comes alive. From the opening shootout to the climactic fight on a moving train, Yen keeps the energy up and the fights fresh. It’s a testament to Yen’s longevity in the business that even after 40 years of doing movies, his creativity as an actor and filmmaker is still growing and flourishing. 

While the action portions of The Prosecutor jump right off the screen, the section focused on the legal drama isn’t able to match the former’s passion and energy. Clearly, Yen was attempting to inject something a bit more meaningful into this otherwise “by the books” action film. Unfortunately, this clash of tones makes the entirety of the film feel a bit undercooked and unsatisfying. 

While portions of The Prosecutor don’t live up to expectations, you’ll get everything you want and more when Donnie Yen is kicking dudes in the face.

Miracle Misfortune

The Gullspang Miracle

by Brandon Thomas

For devoutly religious sisters Kari and May, miracles are as real as the air we breathe. Thirty years after the death of their older sister Lita, Kari and May believe they witness their own miracle while sitting in a real estate office in Sweden. Before them sits a woman that looks identical to their long-dead sister. This woman, Olaug, shares the same birthday as Lita, grew up in roughly the same area in Northern Norway as the sisters, and most importantly: shares DNA. As the story of Lita and Olaug’s separation unravels, so does the relationship between the initially ecstatic sisters and their newly found family member.

Maria Fredrikkson’s The Gullspang Miracle seemingly jumps out of a daytime soap storyline. At first, the story does seem too good to be true. How on Earth could two sisters randomly run into the twin of their long-dead sister all while trying to purchase an apartment nearly 1,000 miles from where they grew up? Oddly enough, the tale gets even more shocking and revelatory from there. 

As the story of Lita and Olaug’s birth unfolds – the two were separated during World War 2 due to the Nazi’s fascination with twins – the stark differences between Lita’s family and Olaug become more clear. While Kari, May and the rest of their family are deeply religious, Olaug does not share their views. In fact, she’s quite resentful of their faith and her belief that they are trying to convert her. As the film progresses, Olaug’s overall view of her new family becomes more and more negative. The change in feelings – on both sides – from joy to disappointment and resentment is quick and at times becomes cruel.

Fredrikkson crafts the film with an odd assortment of reenactments using the real sisters and their family, archival footage, and even outtakes. One of the best moments in the film involves Fredrikkson crying out from behind the camera about how she’s starting to question the believability of what the sisters are telling her. The nature of the truth and what that really is – and more importantly – what people want it to be is ultimately at the heart of The Gullspang Miracle. The truth of family is always complicated even when death and miraculous discovery isn’t a part of it. The harshness of the truth can be freeing for some and crippling for others.

Like the recent documentary Three Identical Strangers, The Gullspang Miracle is a riveting look at how being a family is about more than just blood and DNA.

Fact or Fiction

Asog

by Brandon Thomas

Since its inception, filmmaking has given artists an outlet to explore and amplify identity. Whether it’s cultural, religious, or something more profound and oftentimes less investigated – like sexuality and gender – film has opened the door for people around the world to share who they are. Through a mix of documentary and narrative film, filmmaker Sean Devlin’s Asog puts an important spotlight on the Philippines’s queer community as well as the forgotten people of the country’s rural areas. 

Set in the aftermath of a destructive typhoon, Asog simultaneously tells the story of Jaya (Rey Aclao), a non-binary teacher, and the residents of the devastated island of Sicogon. As Jaya travels to a drag pageant with one of their students in tow, they cross paths with the people of Sicogon as they struggle with the destruction of their home, and the outside forces of development that seek to change the island forever.

From the get-go, Asog is interesting in its stylistic choices: mainly in blending narrative and documentary type filmmaking. This kind of approach is certainly nothing new, but it does feel like a rarity in today’s IP and nostalgia-centric world of cinema. That mix of fact and fiction often happens through psychedelic realism – simultaneously putting the audience into the emotional vortex of the characters. The choice works as Devlin’s film keeps reminding the audience that a part of this story really did happen and the people are still dealing with the consequences. 

The heart of the film belongs to Jaya’s relationship with their student, Arnel (Arnel Pablo). The chemistry and connection between the two is raw and honest – mirroring the film’s overall form. This is all the more impressive given that both are non-traditional actors – with Arnel actually playing himself in the film. The rest of the cast is made of these kinds of actors too, with results not nearly as satisfying. There’s a clunkiness to the other performances that’s distracting and hobbles the film’s overall effectiveness.

The other half of the film – the part focusing on the people of Sicogon Island, isn’t nearly as cohesive or well executed as Jaya’s story. Devlin’s intent is there – cultural identity being virtually wiped away by encroaching greedy outsiders, but it feels too siloed when put together with the sometimes very comedic and intimately personal nature of Jaya’s journey. 

Even if the more telegraphed “message” portion of the film doesn’t completely come together, the story of Jaya and Arnel whacks enough of an emotional wallop that most audiences won’t notice Asog’s low points.

Punk Enough?

Lulu and the Electric Dreamboat

by Brandon Thomas

Mark McDonagh (co-director and writer Michael Casey) deals with all of the same issues most teenagers do: strange parents, bullies, and an utter lack of confidence. Mark’s one outlet for his angst – punk rock – singles him out even more amongst his family and community. When Mark meets Lulu (Sinead Morrisey), the goth girl who lives next door to next door, he’s instantly infatuated and desperate to impress her. As the two begin to spend more time together, they form their own band Lulu and the Electric Dreamboat – with Mark being the aforementioned Electric Dreamboat. 

Ireland’s own John Carney has had a bit of a monopoly on romantic music infused films since Once burst onto the scene in 2007. With Lulu and the Electric Dreamboat, writer/directors Casey and Paddy Murphy seek to deliver something a little more ornery than it is sweet. And for the most part they succeed. There’s a chaotic sense of humor to Lulu that certainly sets it apart from Carney’s more earnest work. From Mark’s overly-supportive parents (with mis-matched accents), to Mark and Lulu stealing the local church’s donation box, the humor comes more with a punk rock sneer than it does a twinkle in its eye.

Casey and Morrisey have a charming chemistry that allows for an easy investment in their burgeoning friendship/romance. Neither character is particularly groundbreaking with the mousey punk kid and the mean goth girl being pretty worn out tropes. The two actors work well with a fairly thin script – leaning more into the physicality of the roles and the audacious humor. 

The low-budget nature of the film occasionally creeps in with a spotty sound mix, a visual palette that’s rather flat and bland, and a peripheral cast that isn’t always up to snuff. Grace is – and should be – given to indie film, but it’s harder to overlook said budget deficiencies when they take you out of the movie.

Lulu and the Electric Dreamboat is a fun enough punk rock romance even if it’s a little rough around the edges.

Not So Empty Nest

Suze

by Brandon Thomas

Susan (Michaela Watkins of Heart Eyes) doesn’t have a lot going on in her life. Her marriage is over due to her ex’s humiliating bit of infidelity, her daughter treats her more like an annoyance than a parent, and her job – while something she’s successful at – isn’t filling her with much joy. When her daughter surprises her with the news that she’s selected a college several hundred miles away, Susan is not only stuck with the loneliness of an empty house, but also dealing with Gage (Charlie Gillespie of Totally Killer), her daughter’s despondent ex-boyfriend. When Gage suffers an accident and his inattentive father doesn’t show much interest, Susan (or Suze, as Gage likes to call her) takes the young man into her home.

Suze isn’t the kind of film that’s looking to take the audience on a ride of twists and turns. For better or worse, you know what you’re in for with a movie like this one. The beats are similar to a hundred different dramedies you’ve seen over the years, yet Suze manages to pull off something a little fresher and that’s thanks to a better-than-normal cast. 

As the titular character, Michaela Watkins carries the film on her shoulders. In virtually every scene, Watkins is tasked with walking a tightrope that asks the audience to laugh at – and with – Suze, pity her, and cheer her on all within a scant 93 minutes. Watkins’s comedic chops are on full display, but it’s the quieter character moments that give Suze that extra bite. I mean, it’s not Shakespeare in the Park, but Watkins is a pro and she hits every beat to create a character that’s interesting and compelling. 

Gillespie might have a more difficult job as Gage. A hodge-podge of burnout and Canadian surfer dude (that’s a thing, right?), Gage skirts the line between obnoxious and vulnerable. Gillespie does a notable job of showing how Gage’s heartbreak over his own mother fuels his need for Suze’s approval and constant attention. The script isn’t subtle about it, but Gillespie’s performance adds a few extra shades of gray.

Suze might not scratch that itch if you’re looking for something wholly original, but if you’re in the mood for a pleasant, well-acted Canadian dramedy, it will hit the spot.

Wrong Place Wrong Time

Night Call

by Brandon Thomas

There’s something inherently satisfying when the everyman gets sucked into extraordinary circumstances. We all knew that Rambo wasn’t going to get killed by the bad guy. John Wayne didn’t get offed in a movie until near the end of his movie-making career. Did that necessarily dampen my enjoyment of any of those movies? Nope! However, it’s equally gratifying to see an Average Joe like John McClane drop Hans Gruber off of Nakatomi Tower. 

College student Mady (Jonathan Feltre) spends his nights working as a locksmith to make ends meet. It’s a thankless job that puts him into contact with people in stressful situations and short tempers. Being the nice guy that he is, Mady bends protocol ever so slightly when opening an apartment for Claire (Natacha Krief). As Mady waits in the newly unlocked apartment for Claire to pay him, the real resident arrives and is none too pleased. From that moment on, Mady’s night turns into a break-neck race for survival. 

Action movies are all about energy. The best of the bunch (think Die Hard, First Blood, Hard Boiled) are symphonies of exciting sequences. Even their quieter – character based – moments can get the blood pumping. Night Call director Michiel Blanchart understands this and barely gives the audience any breathing room for 97 minutes. Given that this isn’t a big-budget film, Blanchart leans into character and clever plotting to wring out every ounce of tension that he can. That said, there’s still a pretty gnarly car chase and a few brutal fights.

Mady might be an everyman but he’s not without agency. The character is willing to do whatever it takes to survive. The audience is right there with Mady and his frustration and anger at being sucked into a situation that has nothing to do with him. The script – and Feltre’s performance – never questions Mady’s intelligence or drive. It’s a breath of fresh air in an era where a lot of action movies like to take the piss out of their leading men.

Night Call is Blanchart’s first feature-film and it’s one hell of a debut. From delivering a tight script, to knowing how to shoot and edit action that flows, Blanchart has shown that he understands the nuts and bolts of action cinema. 

While it might not even match the catering budget of the latest Bond film, what Night Call has unquestionably is a copious amount of energy and creativity.