Tag Archives: Brandon Thomas

Time and Again

Brightwood

by Brandon Thomas

We’ve all been stuck at a dinner or party with that one couple that seemingly hates one another. The snide remarks, uncomfortable body language, and icy stares create a tense environment that’s almost tangible. Now, imagine that this couple are the only two characters in a 90 minute horror movie. It would be easy to root for their eventual demise, but through clever plotting and character arcs, Brightwood manages to circumvent early assumptions. 

Things are not going well for Jen (Dana Berger) and Dan (Max Woertendyke). Dan’s embarrassed himself – and mostly Jen – at a party the night before, and the hostility between the couple is at a fever pitch. That he’s tagged along on her morning run has only made Jen all the more angry. As Dan tries to match Jen’s pace – and beg for forgiveness along the way – the two slowly realize that their surroundings keep repeating and that odd-looking – but familiar –  strangers are appearing to the both of them. 

Writer/Director Dane Elcar takes his time getting to the genre trappings in Brightwood. The deteriorating relationship between Jen and Dan takes up the bulk of the film’s first act. It’s a portion that may test a lot of viewers as the rage and desperation radiating from the couple showcases two people at their lowest. That Berger and Woertendyke are so good at selling these heightened characters only makes the latter half of the film all the better. 

Elcar keeps things character-centric even as the events around the couple get weirder. Brightwood isn’t a plot heavy film. The strange events happening to Jen and Dan are never explained. The fascinating part of the film is witnessing their arc not only in “real time”, but also through various versions of themselves that come and go.

Things get devilishly funny and violent as the film races (ahem) to its climax. What could’ve at first been a talky relationship drama ends in blood-soaked mayhem by the time the end credits begin the role. Dead Alive this movie ain’t, but Elcar doesn’t shy away from the carnage.

The tonal shifts never feel jarring or unnatural, which is a testament not only to Brightwood’s script but also the actors bringing it to life. 

Brightwood is a clever addition to the time travel subgenre. Instead of getting lost in the mechanics of paradoxes and and alternate timelines, the film wisely keeps its eye on the two characters experiencing this horrifying event.

Screening Room: Meg 2, TMNT: Mutant Mayhem, Shortcomings, Final Cut, Night of the 12th & More

Tainted Love

Rub

by Brandon Thomas

As disheveled loner Neal (Micah Spayer) sits at his work desk scanning through dating site profiles, it’s hard not to immediately think of other cinematic losers. Taxi Driver’s Travis Bickle, One Hour Photo’s Seymour Parrish, and Joker’s titular character spring to mind first. However, as Christopher’s Fox feature debut Rub plays out, our expectations are slowly thrown out the window and the film unfolds into something completely different.

Neal leads an isolated life. His coworkers don’t take him seriously, his relationship with his family seems to exist only over the phone, and any attempt at a romantic relationship is dismissed. At the urging of a co-worker, Neal visits a tawdry massage parlor where he meets Perla (Jennifer Figuereo). As Neal’s humiliation at the hands of his co-workers boils over, he makes another visit to the parlor – a visit that will wind up with both Neal and Perla on the run.

The way Rub nimbly dances between sub-genres really allows it to surprise. Just when you think it’s going to become Maniac, the film veers off into Taxi Driver territory. However before Rub can fully commit to homaging Scorsese’s anarchic opus, the film takes another hard right into Badlands. Director Fox never lets his film get comfortable in any of these genre-defining areas. Instead, the tone and tenor of the film follows the characters and their journey, not the other way around.

Spayer has the flashier role of the two roles, and he handles himself quite well, but the real fireworks happen when both Spayer and Figuereo are sharing the screen. They are an unlikely pair but their vulnerability shines through to something deeper and more meaningful. Both characters have been discarded by those around them – to be used only as things of either enjoyment or ridicule. It’s a pairing that begs for a happy ending, but the mounting suspense and tension only point to one inevitable outcome.

Rub is the kind of character-centric genre outing that evokes the electric and gratifying cinema of the 1970s. Sure, it’s a low-budget film that’s rough around the edges, but any shortcomings on a purely production level are soon erased by the commitment to surprising storytelling.

OK with Age

Aged

by Brandon Thomas

The subject of aging has become a popular trope in the world of horror. Films like M. Night Shyamalan’s Old and the Aussie favorite Relic used our own fears of natural mortality to tap into something more supernatural. Ti West’s X comments on how aging – and the supposed loss of beauty – can have deeper psychological implications. Director Anubys Lopez’s Aged may not reach the highest highs of the aforementioned films, but what it lacks in originality it more than makes up for with old school things that go bump in the night.

Veronica (Morgan Boss-Maltais) has recently taken a temporary job as a caregiver for the elderly Mrs. Bloom (Carla Kidd). Shortly after arriving at Mrs. Bloom’s remote home, Veronica begins to sense a presence in the house. As the strange events in the house escalate, Veronica also begins to suspect that Mrs. Bloom herself might be harboring a sinister secret.

Aged checks a lot of low-budget horror boxes right off the bat. 

Single location? Check. 

Small cast? Check. 

Simplistic story that requires little in the way of production value and special effects? That would be a check. 

These aren’t detriments by any means. The simplicity of Aged is actually the film’s greatest asset… well, except for Kidd’s old-age makeup. That gag is right out of a Spirit Halloween and pretty wince-inducing. 

Lopez aims high with the film’s visuals. The low-budget still manages to shine through here and there, but the emphasis on production design and shooting every nook and cranny of the desolate farm house helps create a real sense of place. Lopez has a good eye – so good, in fact, that it’s a shame much of Aged was filmed in the brightness of day. 

Boss-Maltais and Kidd spend nearly all of their scenes together. Kidd chews up an enormous amount of scenery as the venomous Mrs. Bloom. Boss-Maltais’s Veronica is your standard bland non-personality-having lead. Veronica’s role is to walk the audience through the plot of the movie and not to have any real arc of her own. 

Aged isn’t the first movie you should seek out this weekend – heck it might not even be the 10th – but it is an entertaining enough haunted house flick that’ll keep your attention for 90 minutes.

Screening Room: Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, The Boogeyman, Shooting Stars, Esme My Love & More

The Politics of Sin

Padre Pio

by Brandon Thomas

Shortly after the end of the first World War, a priest named Padre Pio (Shia LaBeouf) finds himself suffering an enormous crisis of faith. Having had health issues that kept him from the front lines of the war, Pio’s guilt is slowly consuming him.

Outside the walls of the monastery, a less internal battle is brewing. Many townspeople, upset with fascist landowners and their own working conditions, are drawn to the rising Socialist Party. They see the town’s first free election as a way to make their voices heard. When the old rulers see the tide turning against them, violence becomes their only way of holding onto power.

Director Abel Ferrara made a name for himself by directing some of the most notable exploitation movies of the late ‘70s, ‘80s, and early ‘90s. Films like Ms. 45 and Bad Lieutenant were cultural firestarters in their day, and might even draw the ire of Film Twitter in the present should it stumble upon those seedy gems. However, in the latter half of his career, Ferrara has been drawn to more contemplative works. Pasolini, Tommaso, and Siberia show the filmmaker at his most introspective. Instead of trying to provoke an audience with violence and graphic sex, Ferrara is now trying to get them to look inward through quiet but haunted protagonists. 

Padre Pio is Ferrara’s attempt to subtly blend religion and politics, though neither topic is given its due. Unlike Paul Schrader’s more recent First Reformed, Ferrara’s film is far too disjointed and muddled to prove his own point. The religious fervor found in LaBeouf’s scenes never coherently connects with the film’s political half. There are hints at Ferrara’s initial intentions, but unfortunately very little of that appears on screen. 

LaBeouf’s casting is a major blunder. The actor has turned in very good work in movies like The Peanut Butter Falcon, Fury, and American Honey, but as an iconic Italian priest, he is horribly miscast. While the entirety of the film is in English, the bulk of the cast is made up of Italian and other European actors. LaBeouf’s distracting American accent drags any discerning viewer out of the film immediately. His inclusion, and the messiness of the overall storytelling, makes Padre Pio feel like a bad movie-within-a-movie from an Apatow comedy.

Ferrara’s ideas here are compelling and might’ve worked in movies of their own. When crammed together as competing – not complementary – narratives, the film never finds its footing and feels like a slog even at a reasonable 1 hour and 44 minutes.

Big Top of Broken Dreams

Balloon Animal

by Brandon Thomas

Movies set in or around circuses often have a darkness to them. If the animal cruelty doesn’t get to you then the limitless tales of alcoholism and depression will. Oh, and one of them has Pee-wee Herman running around. Thankfully Balloon Animal leaves the cruelty and boozing behind in favor of a thoughtful character piece about isolation and expectations. 

Poppy Valentine (Katherine Waddell) makes the balloon animals at Valentine’s Traveling Circus, owned by her overbearing father Dark Valentine (Ilia Volok). The once bustling circus now plays to sparse, apathetic crowds. Dark’s intense dependence on his daughter is fueled by his wife’s abandonment of him years before. After her father offers her a more significant role in the business, Poppy begins to question her place in the circus, her father’s life, and the world at large. 

At first glance, the premise of Balloon Animal reads like half of dozen indie dramas released since the mid-90s. That assessment isn’t completely untrue, to be fair. However, the difference is in the execution. Writer-director Em Johnson delivers an honest – but never quite brutal – drama that always feels real to its characters. Poppy’s trajectory through the film is natural and doesn’t end up where you think it will.

Setting this story inside a traveling circus is a fascinating choice. Johnson shows little interest in digging into the mechanics of the circus or its day-to-day. The focus is on the people who live and work inside this nomadic community. For them, it’s just a job (for now). For Poppy, though, there’s a cost of isolation and monotony that she’s unable to ignore and eventually begins to reject. 

The performances are just as notable as the film’s tight storytelling. Waddell’s naturalistic charm makes her a great focal point. She delicately straddles Poppy’s creeping loneliness while allowing the character’s meek pragmatism to shine through. It’s not a showy role, but Waddell does so much with it. Likewise, Volok turns what could be a wholly unlikable character into someone with pathos. His ferocity is equaled only by his ability to elicit empathy from the audience. 

Balloon Animal doesn’t end with any definitive answers for its characters. What it does, though, is give them a stopping point for this particular story in their lives and a starting point for an entirely new one.

Bloodbath at Sea

Project Wolf Hunting

by Brandon Thomas

South Korean filmmakers have never been shy about putting carnage on screen. From I Saw the Devil to Train to Busan, South Korean cinema often runs gloriously blood red. With Project Wolf Hunting, the ante has been upped considerably as geysers of gore are jettisoned out of every original – and disgustingly created – human orifice. Dead Alive this ain’t, but it’s not for lack of trying.

In Project Wolf Hunting, a cargo ship has been chartered to transport a group of South Korean prisoners back home from the Philippines. Along for the ride is a small unit of Korean police, a two-person medical team, and the ship’s crew. However, unbeknownst to them, there’s also a small group stowed away in the bowels of the ship protecting an undead creature that has ties to Japanese experimentation during World War 2.

Large-scale horror movies on boats petered out in the late 90s with films like Deep Rising (a good one!) and Virus (a bad one!), all but killing this particular subgenre. The isolation the open ocean provides is second only to deep space when it comes to a great horror movie setting. Project Wolf Hunting taps into that fear that naturally comes from battling the elements. The fact that there’s also a creature and a dozen psychotic felons only adds to the mounting anxiety.


No one is going to go out of their way to congratulate Project Wolf Hunting for its originality. The film proudly wears its influences on its sleeve with Con Air and Overlord being the most obvious. We’ve seen a lot of these beats and eventual reveals dozens of times before, but this film’s infectious energy makes all of that an afterthought. Even at two hours, Project Wolf Hunting never drags and, at times, keeps layering new craziness to an already bonkers film.

Director Kim Hong-sun must have challenged himself to use every kind of action beat imaginable in this movie. There are fantastic shootouts in confined spaces, brutal knife fights, and a few truly gnarly hand-to-hand combat scenes. However, the real star is the gore effects. A movie this wet and goopy hasn’t been seen in a while – and boy, does it make an impression. The gore never feels overly realistic but fits perfectly into the over-the-top approach the filmmakers establish early on. 
With no desire to reinvent the genre wheel, and a solid handle on action and gore, Project Wolf Hunting is a bloody bit of South Korean fun that’s well worth your time.

Skin Deep

Woman of the Photographs

by Brandon Thomas

Vanity has been a part of human existence for ages. The standards of beauty come and go with the passage of time, but no matter where we are in history, people have sought to look attractive. In Woman of the Photographs, director Takeshi Kushida offers a compelling statement on the broad spectrum of beauty, and how either end of it can be equally damaging. 

Kai (Hideki Nagai) is a Japanese photographer who spends most of his days taking standard portraits and then endlessly photoshopping them for his vain clients. Only on the side does Kai get to dabble in a more artistic expression of his photography. While taking photos of insects in the forest, Kai stumbles upon Kyoko (Itsuki Otaki), an Instagram influencer who has just fallen from a tree trying to get the perfect photo. It’s not your standard meet-cute, and Kyoko certainly isn’t your standard model. After inviting herself for a ride home with Kai, Kyoko slowly integrates herself into Kai’s daily life. What starts as a symbiotically awkward relationship slowly morphs into something more sinister as both Kai and Kyoko become obsessed with a more destructive form of beauty. 

What makes Woman of the Photographs so interesting is how delicately it dances around being a horror film. The first half of the movie feels more akin to a quirky indie drama than it does something in the genre realm. As Kai and Kyoko’s relationship deepens later in the film, the tendrils of horror finally make their appearance, calling to mind something close to Cronenberg-lite. 

The body horror in Woman of the Photographs isn’t as pronounced as that of David Cronenberg. No, Kushida’s desire seems to be to purposefully hold back on the excessive gore and instead force the audience to think about standards of beauty when it comes to surface-level imperfections. The horror emphasis is less on Kyoko’s wound itself and more the obsessiveness with which Kai and Kyoko marvel upon it. 

There’s also a fascinating commentary on the state of modern Japan and the isolation many of its citizens feel. While not exactly suffering from hikikomori (the Japanese phenomenon of extreme isolation), Kai’s relationship with other people is often felt only through the viewfinder of a camera. On the opposite end is Kyoko, whose only connection with others – outside of Kai – is through her Instagram page where she obsesses over each and every shot of herself that she posts. 
Woman of the Photographs slowly unravels from a quirky first act to a much more sinister final half. For those with the patience, the methodical descent into Japanese body horror will be well worth the investment.

Remember, Remember…

Back to the Wharf

by Brandon Thomas

Many of your favorite neo-noirs play with the idea of past transgressions coming back to haunt our hero(s). Whether it’s murder born of passionate jealousy or a botched robbery that places the lead on the run, the past hangs on this genre like a cheap suit. In director Xiaofeng Li’s Back to the Wharf, one tragic mistake has a ripple effect across an entire family and community.

Song Hao (Yu Zhang) has returned to his hometown after 15 years following the death of his mother. Once a promising student with university in his future, Song fled after mistakenly entering a neighbor’s home and stabbing him. What Song didn’t know at the time is that his father finished off the mortally wounded man to save his son – and that one of Song’s classmates, Li Tang (Hong-chi Lee) witnessed the crime and has been using it to blackmail his father ever since.

Back to the Wharf – unlike many modern neo-noirs – isn’t concerned with the tropes of the genre. The cool factor is toned down in favor of a more quiet character study. The bursts of violence that do happen are born out of believable character development, not a need to clumsily move the plot along. 

Zhang as Song Hao delivers a quiet, but enthralling performance. It’s easy to see Song is a powder keg, but the delicateness of Zhang’s performance has us as viewers begging for that eventual explosion not to happen. This is especially true once Pan (Song Jia), a former classmate of Song’s, enters his life again. Their meet-cute is made all the more adorable because of Pan’s quirky demeanor – one that has made her an isolated outsider in the community, just like Song. Jia’s jovial outward performance is a fantastic juxtaposition to Zhang’s stoic and guilt-ridden Song.

The film’s eventual conclusion is an unsubtle comment on how violence festers into more violence. There’s no crescendo of righteous vengeance from Song or his father against Li Tang as he squeezes the two for political favors. The cycle of greed and emotional reckoning remains unbroken even as Song tries to build a life of stability with Pan.
While straddling the line between typical neo-noir and quiet character drama, Back to the Wharf manages to satisfy fans of both genres.