Tag Archives: Brandon Thomas

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 Max, Hills 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.

Jump Scare

Rippy

by Brandon Thomas

We joke that the Australian Outback is full of animals that want to kill us. From coast to coast, freshwater and saltwater crocodiles, wild dogs, and poisonous snakes and spiders are found. And that’s not even counting the massive Great White Sharks in the waters off Australia’s beaches. But what about the kangaroo? Sure, they’re abnormally buff and can kick like a gymnast on speed, but their reputation – while not entirely cuddly – isn’t aligned with Australia’s “toothier” residents. 

But what if it was a zombie kangaroo? 

I’m listening.

Small town sheriff Maddy (Tess Haubrich) lives in the shadow of her former law enforcement father. Still reeling from her father’s death when she was a child, Maddy strives to be the kind of strong sheriff he was. When several residents turn up ripped to pieces, Maddy’s eccentric uncle Schmitty (Michael Biehn of Aliens and The Terminator) blames a massive kangaroo. While initially hesitant to believe her uncle’s wild story, Maddy begins to suspect something sinister is stalking the outback as more bodies pile up.

Rippy throws a lot at the audience and not everything sticks. There’s a notable attempt at character development that’s given its all by a game cast, but unfortunately, these long monologue-y scenes stop the film dead. Not to say this kind of character work can’t succeed in a creature feature (see Jaws), but the writing and structure of Rippy make these scenes feel out of place and clunky. Still, it’s nice to see Biehn play a character that isn’t the alpha hero, and one that also gets to serve as the comic relief throughout the film. 

Director Ryan Coonan has some exciting ideas for the kangaroo carnage, but the limitations of the creature f/x work end up sucking the life out of these sequences. The exploitation genesis of a project like Rippy feels ripe for gooey, tactile practical effects that are much more forgiving on a limited budget. Understandably, Coonan would go digital for the film’s more ambitious shots, but the overuse of the poorly rendered CGI kangaroo rids the creature of a lot of its menace. 

Disappointing effects work aside, Rippy still gets points for putting a zombie kangaroo on screen. Coonan ends the film with some pretty big hints about where a potential sequel might go. With a few more dollars thrown his way for more impressive creature work, a sequel to Rippy might just jump high enough to get my attention.

Sins of the Father

Betrayal

by Brandon Thomas

Thrillers wrapped in a healthy dose of family drama make me anxious. Issues with your parents, siblings, or other members of the family can be stressful enough without throwing in murder and betrayal. Although, having to listen to your uncle’s political takes at Thanksgiving can be pretty scary too.

Betrayal’s opening scene sees three brothers (Brian Vernel of Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Daniel Portman of Game of Thrones, and Calum Ross of Wednesday) shoot their sadistic father (Paul Higgins of In the Loop) and leave him for dead in a shallow grave in the woods. Short flashbacks show that the brothers had endured years of mental and physical abuse at the hands of their father. As the brothers return to the remote spot where they buried their father, they find the grave empty and also begin to suspect each other and their motives and secrets. 

Betrayal is wrought with tension and suspense from the opening scene. Without sharing the brothers’ horrific past, director Rodger Griffiths injects enough subtle unease and strife between the characters that you instantly understand something is wrong. It’s a level of suspense that never goes away – it only changes as different layers are pulled back as the film approaches its brutal climax. 

Griffiths wryly plays with the “is he or isn’t he” question of whether the father is actually dead. This isn’t Diabolique where that question is central to the overall story. No, the mystery of the father’s ultimate fate is a catalyst to jumpstart violent conflict between the brothers. It’s a clever spin that keeps the audience on an emotional rollercoaster of anxiety and fear. You want the brothers to persevere, but what if in some ways they’re ultimately as monstrous as the father they want dead? 

Higgins steals the show as the family’s brutal patriarch. He plays him as a villain through and through. This guy isn’t a conflicted father dealing with his own trauma and insecurity. No, he relishes putting his sons and wife in their place. He needs to remind them of his position at the head of the family, and he does so with his fists and his words, which sometimes do even more damage. 

Fans of brutal revenge films will find a lot to like with Betrayal. With solid direction, an excellent cast, and a script that throws in some nice surprises, this thriller is one to seek out.

The Great Escape

In the Rearview

by Brandon Thomas

Cinema has always sought to find beauty and humanity in even the worst of times. Wars are often those worst of times. The new documentary In the Rearview seeks to put the spotlight on human stories as war ravages the country of Ukraine. 

A driver, a cameraman, and refugees fleeing their homes: these are the real life characters that exist within In the Rearview’s running time. It’s not a film trying to unravel a great mystery or highlight the life of a famous person. No, this is a film that seeks only to share the stories of people whose entire lives have been upended by war. As the driver traverses dangerous situations, military checkpoints, and damaged roads, the camera captures these people talking about the lives they are leaving behind and the lives they hope to return to.

The despair felt by the people fleeing their home country is palpable. Many are leaving family pets behind or loved ones who are unable to make the journey. It’s devastating to watch families torn apart in real time – not knowing when they might see each other again. 

The footage is matter of fact and presented without sensationalism. The war is only seen through images of bombed bridges, tank tracks, military run checkpoints, and the haunted faces of the van’s passengers. This lack of polish makes In the Rearview stand out from most contemporary documentaries. 

In the Rearview is a riveting look at how the destructive power of war impacts more than just flesh and bone.