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Ballet of Bullets

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Havoc

by George Wolf

If you’ve seen The Raid or The Raid 2, you’re plenty familiar with the Gareth Evans brand of Gun Fu. With Havoc, he brings the same breakneck blood sport to Netflix. And by the time he’s done, you’ll be amazed none of that splatter got on your sofa.

Expect violence, turned up to eleven.

Tom Hardy takes the lead as Walker, a hardened detective in a seedy, unnamed metropolis. It’s clear Walker has taken part in his share of dirty dealings, and he’s looking for a way to finally get clear of owing local politician Lawrence Beaumont (Forest Whitaker) anything at all.

Walker gets his chance when Beaumont’s estranged son Charlie (Justin Cornwell) is part of a drug deal gone way wrong, and quickly earns a death sentence from a vengeful crime lord.

If Walker can get Charlie out of the city alive, all debts to Daddy Beaumont will be settled.

His forthright partner Ellie (Jessie Mei Li) brings the integrity Walker gave up long ago, and together they sort through increasing levels of goons, guns and corruption to complete the mission.

Yes, levels. Yes, like a video game. Writer/director Evans is careful to craft the setting as a familiar but ambiguous cesspool where escape will only be possible via wave upon wave of martial arts homages, frenetic camerawork and relentless bloodletting.

When it doubt, keep shooting.

Does it get ridiculous? Damn right it does, but Hardy keeps it grounded in anti-hero righteousness, a game supporting cast (including the always welcome Timothy Olyphant and Obstacle Corpse standout Gareth Tidball) fleshes out all the edges, and Evans brings the visual calling cards that anchor a savage ballet of bullets.

Is Havoc deep? Not at all. But does it hit the target? Yes it does, and anything else that might be in the vicinity.

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Casting Kill

by Hope Madden

A stylish indie ride through the seedier side of filmmaking, James Smith’s Casting Kill delivers laughs and surprises on a shoestring.

The anxiety at the core of Casting Kill exploits an actor’s vulnerability. There are countless openings for a predator to take advantage, including desperation for a role and personal insecurities. It’s staggering what an actor might put up with – might make themselves see as “eccentricity” – in order to get a gig.

In this case, they have to put up with Arthur Capstone, whose eccentricities run deep. Smug, self-important and biting, Capstone somehow still wants you to relax as you audition for him. Specifically, he’d like you to close your eyes.

Rob Laird is Capstone, an identity thief passing himself off as a Hollywood casting director. But stealing hapless actors’ identities is hardly this guy’s biggest kink.

Hopeful after hopeful arrives, each starry-eyed for the big break. The film has the most fun in this early montage of mostly terrible auditions. It’s a laugh that makes the film’s final moments land with a smirk and a chuckle. 

Gareth Tidball is a charmer in a small, doomed role – though she keeps delivering even when her lines have run out. Andrew Elias injects a bit of macabre fun into an almost unending supply of creepy characters.

Caroline Spence’s script has a grisly blast with this conceit, looking at the casting process from every angle to give the film a “behind the curtain” vibe that suits it.

Smith’s direction intentionally recalls Hitchcock, a theme amplified by Shaun Finnegan’s score. Framing, camera angles, and in particular Smith’s use of color give the film an unsettling, off-kilter vibe that helps to offset Casting Kill’s lack of movement and action. Smith makes the most of the film’s tight quarters with shots that are equally lovely and bizarre.

From Starry Eyes to Neon Demon to Pearl and more, indie horror never seems to run out of horror stories about trying to make it big. That’s scary and a little sad in itself, but the result is, once again, a thoroughly entertaining film.