After witnessing his father (Dermot Mulroney) commit an act of extreme violence, Eli (Dylan Flashner) confronts the idea he might be capable of similar brutality in writer/director Barry Jay’s film, Like Father, Like Son.
Eli’s rage is apparent early on. But initially, a lot of it seems to come in response to bad situations. A boss who denigrates his employees on a regular basis. A repossessed car. A stolen wallet. A father in prison who taunts Eli when he comes to visit. However, the outsized reactions speak to something damaged within Eli.
Shaky camera movements and quick cuts to past memories intersect with moments when Eli comes close to losing it. It’s a distracting feature that suggests Flashner is unable to convey inner turmoil on his own.
The movie’s biggest issue, however, is the lack of depth given to any of the characters. All we really know about Eli’s father is his penchant for violence. All we know about Eli is his penchant for violence. It’s impossible to sympathize with Eli as he struggles with his “inherent” cruelty. The ancillary characters that orbit Eli’s world aren’t given anything much to do either.
Dialogue would make it seem like Eli struggles with his violent nature, but the actions of the film do not communicate this. If anything, he seems to enjoy his aberrant nature. We spend most of the film watching Eli embrace what appears to be his “true” self. While examining the ways in which violence begets violence can be interesting, Like Father, Like Son doesn’t have anything new to say on the subject.
Winona Ryder was arguably the queen of the late 80s/early 90s when it came to counter-culture or oddball movies. Beetlejuice, Heathers, Edward Scissorhands, and Bram Stoker’s Dracula are all either bonafide classics or have become cult favorites in their own right. While the 2000s weren’t as kind to Ryder, her career came roaring back with the massive success of Stranger Things.
With Gone in the Night, Ryder makes her way back to the big screen in a film that might not make the same lasting impression as her earlier movies.
Kath (Ryder) and her boyfriend, Max (John Gallagher Jr. of 10 Cloverfield Lane and Hush) drive deep into the woods for a relaxing cabin getaway. Upon arrival, the two find that another couple, Greta (Brianne Tiu of Amazon’s I Know What You Did Last Summer) and Al (Owen Teague of It: Chapter One and It: Chapter Two) have already moved in for the weekend.
After some tense back and forth, it’s decided that Kath and Max will stay for the night before heading home. After a night of board games, and light flirting, Kath turns in first. In the morning, Kath finds that both Max and Greta have disappeared. A seemingly distraught Al claims to have caught them hooking up during the night. As Kath tries to figure out why Max abruptly left, flashbacks begin to piece this muddled tale together.
Director Eli Horowitz weaves a clever mystery that patiently moves through the past and present. The film’s climax isn’t dependent on opening a satisfying mystery box. No, it’s more about how the film tries to subvert expectations along the way – and not always to a rewarding conclusion.
There’s an attempt to comment on mismatched partners in relationships with Kath and Max. These two couldn’t be further from the same page when it comes to what they want out of a relationship or what they want out of life. Even holding a conversation feels like a chore for them. The link between this theme and where the film eventually ends up is murky and never really comes together succinctly.
The mix in tone is where Gone in the Night stumbles most explicitly. The film’s original title The Cow, telegraphs a much more subversive film than the neo-noirish thriller the new title hints at. The third act twist would be much more satisfying had the lead-up not been as sardonic. Even the character motivations feel tacked on and convoluted.
The cast handles the material much better than expected – although most of them feel adrift due to the tonal inconsistencies.
Ryder delivers a solid bedrock performance as the in-the-dark (pun fully intended) partner. It’s nice to see her as the lead in features again, and the actor continues to show that she never lost the capability to command the screen.
Gallagher Jr. offers another variation of the “bearded slacker” he’s been doing for the last five years. Despite the repetition, Gallagher is good at what he does. The standout is the always dependable Dermot Mulroney (My Best Friend’s Wedding, Copycat). Mulroney brings his on-point, affable charm, but also infuses the performance with a hint of darkness to keep the audience on its toes.
Gone in the Night is a thriller that tries to offer up something new in a tried and true genre. Unfortunately, new doesn’t always mean good.
In his third feature film, director Grant S. Johnson dives into the unrewarding cinematic web of United States bureaucracy. Agent Game centers around a group of expendable CIA officers scapegoated in a coverup and forced to fight the government for their lives.
While not entirely pro-United States, Agent Game makes the assumption that the audience shares a universal respect for their government. While this approach might have worked until the 2000s, it’s unrealistic in today’s age of information and dissent.
Governments’ relationships with their societies change, and a film that doesn’t reflect that shift puts itself at a disadvantage. Ultimately, Agent Game never climbs out of the ideological valley it begins in.
The acting is, at best, uninspired. At its worst, it’s incompetent. This does not entirely seem to be the actors’ fault. Though perhaps verging on hyperbole, it looks like the actors were only given single takes. It’s hard to conjure another logical explanation for why, at points, it seems that they’re performing the lines for the first time.
The only performances that manage to break into a believable space come from Jason Isaacs and Dermot Mulroney, who play two uncommonly moral CIA agents. While bouncing off of each other, they’re able to find the grit and realism Agent Game overwhelmingly lacks.
Though certainly not intended, Mel Gibson’s character ironically breaks up the monotony of the dull narrative. Supposedly the mastermind behind a twisted government operation, Gibson plays more like a parody of himself than a commanding force. The strangely elongated pauses and conviction behind cheesy quips make for moments of unintended comedy gold.
The story revolves around two separate but connected missions, confusingly paced and set non-chronologically. It seems the director and writers started with a fairly simple concept and decided the plot was too easily understood, so they created unnecessary and underdeveloped roadblocks in the narrative.
Ultimately, if there was even a hint of self-awareness, this film could be an enjoyable ride. Instead, it spends its energy trying excessively hard to distract you from its faults.
Bill (Jason Isaacs) laments about his place in government morality, and his line perfectly encapsulates the takeaway of the film:
Working from the Todd Snider song, “Just Like Old Times,” writer/director Justin Corsbie (with co-writer Craig Ugoretz) brings the lyrics to life with his debut feature film, Hard Luck Love Song.
Basing a film on a song isn’t unheard of, but it isn’t very
common either – probably for a lot of reasons. The biggest one being most story
songs rely on character tropes to allow their listeners to connect to the
characters. In this case, the antihero and the hooker with a heart of gold.
And even then, a film can succeed in adapting a song to the
big screen if the background story and characters are fleshed out in believable
ways. Unfortunately, Corsbie and Ugoretz don’t pull this off.
I find it hard to believe that in this day and age anyone could be hustled playing pool – didn’t everyone see Color of Money? But apparently, the scam still flies –because when we meet Jesse (Michael Dorman), it’s the way he makes his living. New to town, living in the Tumble Inn, Jesse is seeking to work over the locals.
There’s some slow action in the first half of the film. A pool
tournament that starts as a montage begins to drag as the final three games
play out between Jesse and Rollo (Dermot Mulroney). After a particularly
ill-advised hustle, Jesse’s celebratory scene is indulgent and tacks on to an
already slow opening act.
The story starts to pick up when an old flame (Sophia Bush) enters the picture, nearly halfway through the film. However, this is also when the movie begins to take on a different life, setting a new tone and coming closer to the meat of the song on which it’s based. If the film had continued to set a new stage in each act – treating each piece as a vignette in Jesse’s life – this may have worked. However, when elements of the first act are reintroduced into the final act, it’s jolting.
The third act is the least satisfying segment – relying heavily on stereotypes and songs to carry it along. It’s also when the film goes completely off the rails. Had the tone of the story not been so serious throughout, perhaps the conclusion could have landed more skillfully. As it is, the tonal shift is so abrupt that it feels as if we’re watching another movie altogether.
If you’re unfamiliar with Snider’s song, a live recording plays over the end credits. You’ll wonder why the filmmakers set such a serious tone when you hear Snider’s playful rendition. Perhaps if more of the song’s humor had made it into the film, the result would have been more satisfying.
Creepy twin stuff, Udo Kier, alternate realities—yes, The
Blazing World. I am in.
Co-writer/director/star Carlson Young takes us on a strange
journey as Margaret Winter, haunted twin who lost her sister ten years ago.
Struggling to get by, she relents and visits her needy mother (Vinessa Shaw)
and difficult father (Dermot Mulroney), who are packing up Margaret’s childhood
home for sale.
And that is the last normal thing that happens.
Working with cinematographer Shane F. Kelly (Boyhood),
Carlson conjures a beautifully melancholic world, one that almost seems like
our world but only if you squint. The colors and music suggest a vibrant but
eerie dreamscape, the ideal spot for Margaret to lose herself – and maybe find
her sister.
The title suggests Margaret Cavendish’s 17th Century feminist utopia, but Young’s script (co-written with Pierce Brown) takes only the loosest inspiration. Rather than the tale of a woman learning to lead in another realm, this The Blazing World reimagines one life’s greatest traumas as fantastical games to be overcome.
Carlson herself does a solid job of shouldering heroine duties,
and she surrounds herself with talent. While Shaw and Mulroney deliver wild and
eerie performances, it is Udo Kier you’ll remember best. Of course it is! As
gamesman, devil and guide, he charms in his wearily creepy way.
Young’s writing can’t quite keep up with her knack for casting, though. While several scenes in and of themselves stand out spectacularly, and the weaving together of the various images creates a strange and intoxicating flavor, the underlying story is just too slight and the metaphors somewhat tortured.
Something I’ve learned from movies is that if you’re going
to hire a nanny, expect some professional lines to be crossed.
Such is the dynamic between Mary (Kristin Davis) and Grace (Greer Grammer) in writer/director Anna Elizabeth James’s erotic thriller, Deadly Illusions.
Mary is a novelist with a series of successful murder mysteries under her belt, but she hasn’t written a new one in a while. Her publisher is desperate to bring her back to pen a new addition. Mary’s reluctant, until her husband’s serious financial blunder makes the decision for her.
But who will take care of her kids while she writes? Enter
sweet, innocent nanny, Grace.
The film’s set-up is slow to get going. It’s light on the
eroticism and doesn’t feel like much of a thriller. The first act plods along,
dropping the pieces into place as if aware we already know where this is going
to go. It’s not a very compelling watch.
Things heat up in the second act, though not by much. We’re still waiting for the water to boil. The initial relationship between Mary and Grace quickly crosses into inappropriate territory. Mary takes Grace bra shopping and enters the dressing room with her. It’s predatory, though it seems the movie wants us to feel Grace is the aggressor in the scene.
As we simmer through, Mary’s creativity begins to interfere
with her reality. As she loses herself in her new novel, she fantasizes about
inappropriate activities with Grace. Or do those things really happen?
Things get weirder, and several clunky red herrings are dropped into the mix. This movie wants to keep us guessing, but it’s never enticing enough to make much of an impact.
Along for the ride is Dermot Mulroney as Mary’s husband, Tom. Mulroney is a capable actor, but doesn’t have much to do here – though his contribution to the film is more than that of the children whom Grace is hired to care for. You might forget Grace is a nanny and not Mary’s personal assistant.
Davis and Grammer have some fun with their roles, and their dynamic is curious if not entirely convincing. Grammer doesn’t have the chemistry with Davis that we need to be caught up in their relationship.
There are moments of enjoyment as the situations get stranger and the mystery more absurd, but overall, Deadly Illusions inspires more tedium than thrills.
