Tag Archives: George Wolf

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Fins to the Left, Fins to the Right

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Dangerous Animals

by George Wolf

When are they going to run out of ideas for new shark movies?

Well, not today.

Dangerous Animals – director Sean Byrne’s first film in a decade – rises above the glut of silly sharksploitation yarns by aggressively hunting an adventure thriller of abduction and survival.

Jai Courtney stuffs his own jaws full of scenery as Tucker, a bawdy and boisterous boat captain in Australia who takes tourists out for shark encounters. But Tucker is always on the lookout for those visitors who may be alone and not easily tracked. And when Tucker identifies his prey, he pounces, hooking them up to a harness and slowly feeding them to the sharks while he records it all on VHS.

Free vegemite with any blank VHS tape purchase!

But when Tucker abducts American surfer Zephyr (Hassie Harrison) on the beach one very early morning, he quickly realizes he’s hooked “a Marlin,” a real fighter. Tucker loves a fight, and Zephyr is going to give it to him.

Byrne (The Loved Ones, The Devil’s Candy) shows a pretty firm hand juggling the sharky business with other genres and influences. You’ll see clear nods to The Silence of the Lambs and Hounds of Love, and Byrne is able to draw some tense, terrifying moments out of fairly standard tropes and the obligatory nonsensical choices made by potential victims.

Nick Lepard’s script falters most by wedging in a potential love story between Zephyr and local dude Moses (Josh Heuston). The narrative need to have someone miss Zephyr when she’s gone is understandable, but the thread lands as forced, contrived, and a heavy weight that drags the film down.

Courtney has never been better. His Tucker is a hammy hoot, and Courtney leans into a Mad Aussie physicality that makes the heavy handed predator metaphors more entertaining. Harrison sells the defiant grit that makes Zephyr a worthy adversary, and the two trade blows in a power struggle that keeps you engaged on the way to a finale that you’ve already guessed.

Byrne makes sure the shark footage is occasionally thrilling and always competent. But he also finds plenty of ways to make this more than just another preposterous fin story, and Dangerous Animals is better for it.

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Crane, Meet Dragon

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Karate Kid: Legends

by George Wolf

The success of cable’s Cobra Kai probably made a new Karate Kid movie pretty inevitable. So here we are, in the Kai universe, bringing Ralph Macchio, Jackie Chan and the ghost of Pat Morita all together for Karate Kid: Legends.

Don’t expect “The Crane,” the new move is “Dragon Kick,” but getting to it follows the well worn KK formula. Li Fong (Ben Wang, last seen in Mean Girls) and his Mom (Ming-Na Wen) move from Bejing to NYC, where Li meets the cute Mia (Sadie Stanley) even before the first day of high school.

But Mia’s ex-boyfriend Conor (Aramis Knight, who should license his name for a new cologne) is mean, jealous and the reigning champ of the 5 boroughs karate tournament. And this year’s tourney is coming up.

Can Li put aside his tragic past – not to mention the vow he made to his mother – and shock the crowd?

Give screenwriter Rob Leiber credit for working some much appreciated script flips inside these plug-and-play story beats.

First, Li is no novice when he comes to town. He’d been studying with Mr. Han (Jackie Chan) back home, and is already skilled enough to train Mia’s Dad (Joshua Jackson) – a former boxer looking for much needed prize money – for his upcoming fight.

Plus, the choreography for Li’s early fights with baddies and bullies is total Jackie Chan – complete with nimble acrobatics and a humorous, Chaplin-esqe style that delights. Still, Li is in need of help, so Mr. Han arrives to provide it.

But Han’s specialty is Kung Fu. Where can they find a karate master? Enter Daniel LaRusso (Macchio), the prize student of Han’s old fried, Mr. Miyagi.

It is a nostalgic kick seeing them train Li together, and some nice moments of goofy humor come from the pairing. But like almost every other positive in the film, they’re buried under director Jonathan Entwistle’s breakneck pace.

At barely 90 minutes, a film that was already less-than-subtle becomes a lightning quick series of contrived blows to the head that we know are coming but powerless to stop. Whether from meat cleaver editing or a calculated nod to short attention spans, the result feels too much like an ESPN 30 for 30 highlight reel, robbing us of any chance to get truly invested and forget that we already know how this ends.

Still, Legends manages to land a few fun blows. Just don’t blink or you’ll miss ’em.

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Jane Says

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Jane Austen Wrecked My Life

by George Wolf

The Cult of Jane is strong, for good reason. On film, Austen’s groundbreaking work has inspired faithful adaptations, inspired re-imaginings and even romance fantasy. Jane Austen Wrecked My Life (Jane Austen a gâché ma vie) gets filed behind door number three, a fanciful rom-com that finds its joy by throwing a devoted fan into the Austen formula.

Agathe Robinson (Anatomy of a Fall‘s Camille Rutherford) is a “desperately single” bookseller who has dreams of becoming a writer -dreams that she is too scared to pursue. Her love life falls along the same lines, so Agathe seems destined to wander through life in her own fantasy world.

Things change when Agathe’s friend with possible benefits Felix (Pablo Pauly) submits the first chapters of her manuscript to a Jane Austen residency. The organizers there are impressed enough to offer Agathe a spot at their next writer’s retreat, where she’s greeted by Jane’s great-great-great-great nephew Mr. Darcy, er, I mean Oliver (Charlie Anson).

Oliver thinks Jane is overrated. Agathe thinks Oliver is unbearable and arrogant. Felix thinks he and Agathe are ready to take things to the next level.

Guess how that all plays out.

Writer/director Laura Piani knows you can guess, and she makes sure her feature debut leans into that part of the fun. This is meta Jane that manages to be both entirely predictable and consistently pleasing. It’s lush and beautifully shot, intelligent but always accessible, with strong performances and plenty of gently amusing dialog.

And while Piani scores by planting Austen’s centuries-old anxieties into our timeline, she can never quite find a groove of comedy and/or romance that feels memorable. This Jane Austen is hardly a wreck, but it lands as more sweet distraction than solid persuasion.

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Samurai West

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Tornado

by George Wolf

Less than ten minutes into Tornado, you’ll be wondering about the cinematographer behind the expansive beauty on the screen. That would be the Oscar-nominated Robbie Ryan (The Favourite, Poor Things), who elevates writer/director John Maclean’s Samurai survival thriller with consistently sumptuous framing of Scotland’s savage beauty.

In the late 1790’s, young Tornado (Kôki) is on the run from a ruthless crime gang led by Sugarman (Tim Roth) and his son Little Sugar (Jack Lowden). Tornado performs enchanting puppet shows with her father Fujin (Takehiro Hira), but when their traveling show crosses paths with Sugarman and his boys, some impulsive choices lead to deadly consequences.

A full decade after Maclean’s impressive debut Slow West (also shot by Ryan), he returns to a similar story structure. A young adult must again navigate harsh countryside and the threat of violence, while keeping their wits about them and their focus on a committed goal.

But this time, the young Tornado has a bit more going for her when events turn ugly. Fujin is a Samurai, and though he has been teaching his daughter the importance of patience and peace, Tornado is more than handy with a sword.

She also prefers to speak English and often scoffs at her father’s attempts to impart wisdom, character traits Maclean uses to place her between cultures. Tornado seems more vulnerable as Sugarman closes in, and the need to accept her destiny becomes increasingly clear.

Anyone who saw Slow West won’t be surprised by the Western themes here, but the influence of martial arts classics starts simmering early in Tornado before Maclean puts Samurai lore at the heart of act three. The transition isn’t completely seamless and does seem a bit overdue by the time it arrives, but terrific performances by both Kôki and Roth create a compelling dynamic on the way to a showdown.

The offbeat humor of Slow West is missed, and though the support cast is strong (especially Joanne Whalley and Jack Morris), no side character makes a mark as unforgettable as Ben Mendelsohn’s Payne from a decade ago.

Instead, it’s Ryan who isn’t afraid to steal the show. Tornado is a simply gorgeous movie, a compelling Samurai Western hybrid that’s painted on a canvas deserving of the big screen.

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Running Man

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Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning

by George Wolf

Remember that eye-popping train stunt in Dead Reckoning? How is this latest Mission: Impossible chapter possibly going to up that ante? Well, it takes two of the film’s nearly three hours to get there, but once Tom Cruise and director/co-writer Christopher McQuarrie break out the dual bi-planes, hang on for some serious thrills.

And The Final Reckoning delivers plenty of them, more than enough to cruise past (pun intended) some clunky moments for a crowd-pleasing, satisfying capper to an epic franchise.

We pick up where they left us two years ago, with Ethan Hunt (Cruise) and his team of Luther (Ving Rhames), Benji (Simon Pegg), and Grace (Hayley Atwell) on the trail of villain Gabriel (Esai Morales) and the secrets of disarming the doomsday AI program known as “The Entity.”

In just 72 hours, The Entity’s efforts to frighten and divide the population will enable it to gain control over every nuclear arsenal in the world, and deploy each one. Hunt’s mission? Find The Entity’s original source code, and pair it with Luther’s poison pill algorithm that will distort the AI’s reality enough to bring it down.

That’s a mighty big ask in three days, one takes the MI team across the globe, under the sea and in the air for more IMAX-worthy stunts and camerawork. And Cruise – one of cinema’s great movie stars – sells every minute of it with his ageless physicality and effortless charisma.

And though the the film’s themes are mighty relevant, McQuarrie can lean too much on exposition dialog and some forced visual reminders. But he also knows the last three decades have earned some capital that the film spends quite well, bringing in plot points and characters from previous installments to play important parts of the plan. Sure, The Final Reckoning gets a bit sentimental toward the final shot, but after all this time that feels right.

It also feels like a fitting start to summer movie season, a fitting end to a solid franchise, and a fine mission accomplished.

Outtakes

Stab Me With a Spoon

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Fear Street: Prom Queen

by George Wolf

If you’ve been waiting for Netflix to bring their bloody Fear Street fun to the 1980s, Prom Queen is here to gag you with a spoon (or stab you with a hatchet). But after some satisfying time traveling to the 90s, the 70s, and 1666, part four of the series proves the devil is in the details.

Really, one big detail.

After adapting the original trilogy of R.L. Stine’s Fear Street books, writer/director Leigh Janiak gets only an executive producer credit here, and her absence stands out like a new zit on the night of the big dance.

It’s 1988 in the cursed town of Shadyside, and outcast Lori Granger (India Fowler) tells us she is running for Prom Queen. Seems the town is still whispering about what Lori’s Mom did to her Dad years ago, and Lori wants to prove her worth. Standing in the way? Only Queen Bee Tiffany (Fina Strazza) and her “Wolfpack.”

That, plus the masked, red poncho-wearing marauder who starts picking off the Prom Queen candidates one by one.

Director and co-writer Matt Palmer provides the requisite kills, but can never capture the fun that has made Fear Street such a blast to visit. To start with, the time stamp is off. Where’s the big hair, the slang and the fashions from the late 80s? The production has also switched music supervisors, leaving us with needle drops that are a few years off the mark.

The homages to classic horror, Heathers and Mean Girls seem to be here more as an expected requirement than an understood assignment. Plus, the killer’s identity is not much of a surprise while solid performers such as Katherine Waterston and Lily Taylor are wasted with shallow, throwaway roles.

Is there an After Prom? Maybe that’s where the fun is.

Outtakes

Get Your Drink On

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Fountain of Youth

by George Wolf

Knock, knock.

Who’s there?

Bab’s uvula.

Bab’s uvula who?

I don’t know, Babs, but I do know this: if you’re going to decipher the map to the fountain of youth, you’ve got to raise the wreck of the Lusitania and grab the long-lost Rembrandt painting that’s still in the ship’s safe.

So they do that, just like it was a random Tuesday, which clues you in to how ridiculous Apple TV’s Fountain of Youth can get. But it is pretty fun ridiculousness, at least for a while.

Years ago, Luke Purdue (John Krasinski) and his sister Charlotte (Natalie Portman) went on many adventures with their archeologist Dad. But now Charlotte is a divorced Mom working as an art curator who – according to her brother – could use a bit of excitement.

And Luke has just the thing. Billionaire Owen Carver (Domhnall Gleeson) has hired Luke to locate the Fountain of Youth. Owen is dying of liver cancer, and since he can afford health care, he’s financing the expedition in hopes of finding a cure and drinking from it.

So they’re off to raise wrecks and piece together clues, with Luke cracking wise, Charlotte struggling to be the voice of reason, and the whole team trying to stay one step ahead of the super sexy Esme (Eiza González) and her group committed to protecting the legendary Fountain.

Yes, James Vanderbilt’s script is lousy with Indiana Jones, National Treasure and Da Vinci Code inspirations – along with the explanatory dialog that seems required of streaming releases. But, director Guy Ritchie’s snappy direction and the chemistry of this veteran cast break down your impulse to write the whole thing off. There’s action, derring-do, mystery solving, and enough archeological super-heroics to make you wonder if this was some discarded idea for an Indy sequel.

And as you’re wondering how they’re going to get out of the adventure corner they’ve painted themselves into, along comes act three to deliver a pretty shameless Raiders of the Lost Ark imitation. I know, that was decades ago, but come on.

Stanley Tucci’s late cameo cements the intention to continue these adventures with future films, which could be promising. Krasinski makes a likable hero, his flirting with González gives off frisky sparks and Portman classes up the script’s attempts to just make her the wet blanket.

Keep the action and the will-they-or-won’t-they sparring between Luke and Esme, beef up Charlotte’s character and for Lord’s sake stop raiding the crypts of other classic adventure films.

Then you might just have something, Babs.

Fright Club

Fright Club: Punk Rock Horror

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There is a chaotic energy, a violence to punk rock that makes it a perfect score to horror. Like horror, punk frightens. It upsets the status quo, that’s its whole purpose. It’s inspired a lot of filmmakers and a lot of movies: Uncle Peckerhead, Class of 1984, Driller Killer and more. But here are our own personal favorite punk rock horror movies.

5 Repo Man (1984)

Is it horror? Maybe, maybe not. Is it punk?

You’re goddamn right!

Here’s who you’ll hear in Repo Man: Iggy Pop, Suicidal Tendencies, Flack Flag, Fear, The Plugz, Circle Jerks – probably more that I’ve forgotten. Three punks wander the streets doing crimes. And the whole movie is basically a love letter to people who repossess cars. It’s anarchy!

Writer/director Alex Cox brought a decidedly anarchic vibe to the project, which served him well in later films Sid & Nancy (masterpiece!) and Straight to HellI. The guy’s got his bona fides.

Plus Harry Dean Stanton. And a lot of people explode, leaving behind only their bloody shoes, so that’s horror, right?

4 Freaky Tales (2024)

Eric “Sleepy” Floyd played thirteen years in the NBA, making the All Star team in 1987 as a member of the Golden State Warriors. Freaky Tales makes him the heroic centerpiece of a wild anthology that loves the late 80s, Oakland, and Nazis dying some horrible deaths.

Let’s party!

Ryan Fleck may be an Oakland native, but his films with partner Anna Boden haven’t primed us for this campy, Grindhouse detour. Freaky Tales feels like a return to a low budget indie mindset, where ambitious and energetic newcomers want to showcase their favorite movies, music, and neighborhoods while they splatter blood and blow shit up.

3 Return of the Living Dead

Do you want to party? Because guess what time it is!

Dan O’Bannon, writer behind Alien and Total Recall, co-wrote and directed the film that introduced into the genre the abiding zombie trait of brain eating, and is the first film in which zombies groan “braaaaiiiinnnnssss.”

Plus, the great Linnea Quigley Leg Warmer Dance Scene, a fun 80s punk rock soundtrack, Clu Gulagar and a lot of campy fun – all of this combined to create one of the more memorable and weirdly important zombie comedies.

2 The Ranger (2018)

The ordered, quiet, vintage world of Smokey the Bear meets the chaos and volume of punk rock in Jenn Wexler’s feature debut, The Ranger.

Chloë Levine and her buddies/band are hiding out from the law. She takes them to the wooded cabin where she spent her childhood, which may not have been as idyllic as she’s letting on.

Jeremy Holm is a stitch as the zealous park ranger here to ensure rules are followed and punks clean up their act. The culture clash is a ton of fun, as is the 80s slasher vibe. This movie’s a blast.

1 Green Room (2015)

Young punk band the Ain’t Rights is in desperate need of a paying gig, even if it is at a rough private club for the “boots and braces” crowd (i.e. white power skinheads). Bass guitarist Pat (Anton Yelchin) eschews social media promotion for the “time and aggression” of live shows, and when he accidentally witnesses a murder in the club’s makeshift green room, Pat and his band find plenty of both.

As he did with Blue Ruin, Saulnier plunges unprepared characters into a world of casual savagery, finding out just what they have to offer in a nasty backwoods standoff.  It’s a path worn by Straw Dogs, Deliverance, and plenty more, but Saulnier again shows a knack for establishing his own thoughtful thumbprint. 

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Voice of Experience

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Hurry Up Tomorrow

by George Wolf

After the chaotic mess that was The Idol, it would have been easy for Abel Tesfaye (aka The Weeknd) to craft Hurry Up Tomorrow as a safely commercial extension of his new album.

To his credit, he doesn’t, and having Trey Edward Shults as his director and co-writer is the first sign that Tresfaye is after something more challenging. He gets that something, though it often frustrates more than it satisfies.

Tesfaye plays himself as a troubled superstar on tour. The crowds are huge and adoring, but a phone message (voiced by Riley Keough) accuses Abel of being a horrible, self-absorbed person, and his personal demons are taking such a toll on his voice that a doctor prescribes immediate rest. Abel’s manager Lee (Barry Keoghan) shrugs it off, assuring the star he is “invincible.”

A backstage meeting with the mysterious Anima (Jenna Ortega) leads to a day of fun and some lifted spirits, but it soon becomes obvious her very dangerous past may repeat itself in Abel’s very immediate future.

Early on, the skilled Shults (Krisha, It Comes at Night, Waves) brings some Gaspar Noé immersion vibes, rolling out cascades of pulsing music and flashing lights, extended takes and minimal dialog. But as this finally gives way to a thriller narrative that has echoes of Misery, the self-awareness of Keough’s accusations can’t save the film from the weight of self indulgence.

Ortega and Keoghan bring their usual sparks, enough to highlight Tresfaye’s limited acting range – though he is in fine voice. But despite the film’s overall ambition, the themes here are too old and familiar. And though Hurry Up Tomorrow can be visually interesting, the story it tells is never compelling, and only The Weeknd superfans should be hurrying out to see it.