Tag Archives: Jenna Ortega

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Me So Horny

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Death of a Unicorn

by George Wolf

Man, what’s with all these “eat the rich” movies lately?

Cough, cough..it’s a mystery. But Death of a Unicorn treats the idea more literally than most. And though it ultimately pulls up too safely, the film does have some fun unleashing mythical mayhem and the bloodiest of comeuppances.

Elliot (Paul Rudd) and his daughter Ridley (Jenna Ortega) are driving through the mountains to the Leopold Wilderness Preserve, a sprawling compound named for the family that runs the big Pharma firm where Elliot is legal counsel.

Elliot and Ridley’s relationship is still fractured from the recent death of their respective wife and mother, and their front seat bickering takes Eliot’s eyes off the road long enough to strike what really looks like a unicorn.

Misplaced priorities leave Elliot too worried about blowing his big promotion, so they load the beast in the rental car (“I got the damage waiver!”) and head on up the road where cancer-stricken CEO Odell Leopold (Richard E. Grant), his wife Belinda (Téa Leoni) and their designer shorts-loving son Shepard (Will Poulter) are waiting.

But Unicorns are too magical to stay dead, and they have healing powers that can cure things like acne and cancer. Big Pharma families find those cures very attractive, while Big Uni is out to punish the greedy.

This is the feature debut for writer/director Alex Sharfman, and his high concept is always kept afloat by the underplayed commitment of this cast. Characters fall somewhere between the big eyebrows of Mickey 17 and the dark button pushing of Companion, with Leoni’s dry asides (“Not to be a size queen, but that horn was rather girthy”) and Poulter’s daft Dunning-Krugering scoring the most laughs.

Though the unicorns themselves could use more pixie dust in their CGI, Ortega sells her spiritual connection to them, and to the legend she uncovers that traces the “final girl” back much further than we knew. It’s a shame Sharfman doesn’t follow that thread long enough for a killer connection between peasants.

Instead, we get warm fuzzies, and the point of all this carnage ends up feeling muted. Even with literal rich-eating, Death of a Unicorn just won’t commit to the bit as giddily as something like Ready or Not, and a true lasting impression remains an elusive beast.

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Ghoul of Your Dreams

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Beetlejuice Beetlejuice

by Hope Madden

No one has ever mastered gruesome charm, macabre whimsy, as fully as Tim Burton. His 1985 masterpiece Pee-wee’s Big Adventure made a name for him and his 1989 blockbuster Batman changed cinema. But it was with that movie in between, his ’88 nerdy goth classic Beetlejuice that we began to see the real Burton.

It also gave all outsiders everywhere the gift of Lydia Deets, so thank you Burton and Winona Ryder for that.

Lydia returns to Winter River, Connecticut with her widowed stepmother Delia, (Catherine O’Hara, glorious as always), and her estranged daughter, Astrid (Jenna Ortega). The family has reunited to mourn the passing of Lydia’s father.

Meanwhile, in the After World, BJ (Michael Keaton, all festering charisma) is still missing the one who got away (Lydia)—a theme, since his ex-wife (Monica Bellucci) has reanimated and is looking to swallow his soul.

One thing leads to another, somebody says his name three times, wedding bells ring, and Burton delivers his finest film in years.

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice isn’t too hindered by fan service, and it benefits from fun new characters and a couple of great cameos. Justin Theroux is a hoot as Lydia’s yoga-retreat-douche-bro beau, and Willem Dafoe’s a fun distraction.

Ryder gets plenty of opportunity to look conflicted. Every close up—and there are plenty—is just choppy bangs, big browns, furrowed brow. But Lydia’s flanked with fun, energetic characters—both old and new—so the film never drags.

Each set piece is an imaginative, ghoulish delight and O’Hara could be booked with larceny for as many scenes as she steals.  

The main draw, of course, is he who really shouldn’t be named, at least not thrice. Keaton and his iconic over-the-topisms beam with the joyous vibe the entire film delivers. The sequel feels less like a rehash or cash grab and more like a return to form—a return to ideas and creations that unleashed Burton’s imagination in ways few other projects have. It’s fun to have that back.

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Great American Melting Pot

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American Carnage

by Hope Madden

“I’m an a**hole, JP, not a quitter.”

This, I think, is my favorite thing about director/co-writer Diego Hallivis’s sociopolitical horror American Carnage. Rather than setting up one-dimensional, morally impenetrable heroes, Hallivis—writing with his brother Julio—delivers likable but flawed, and therefore realistic, characters to root for.

Those characters are mainly the offspring of immigrants: JP (Jorge Lendeborg Jr.), Camila (Jenna Ortega), Big Mac (Allen Maldonado) among them. Governor Harper Finn’s (Brett Cullen) election-friendly executive order not only deports all illegal immigrants, but also detains their US-born children for failing to turn their parents over to authorities.

Some of those kids can work off their sentence by providing elder care at the Alcove, an institution run by the benevolent Eddie (Eric Dane).

Though the comedic writing is never as sharp as it should be, Hallivis’s cast supplies charm and sarcasm in equal measure. Unsurprisingly, Ortega stands out as the group’s unofficial badass. Her scowl and unlikeable demeanor are the perfect offset to Lendeborg Jr.’s good-natured tenderness.

Maldonado works hardest to elevate tepid dialog, delivering the film’s most consistent comic relief with a jovial, lovable character.

The villains, on the whole, are not the over-the-top psychopaths of traditional horror. This is no doubt intentional. Racist danger, especially as it was uncovered and amplified during Trump’s reign (the film’s title comes from his inaugural speech), is a kind of walks in broad daylight, may be your neighbor, blends into the background reality.

Other than one little dance of evil, the villain performances are somewhat understated.

The villainy is not. There’s a metaphor at work, and though it doesn’t entirely work, the goodwill Hallivis’s cast generates keeps you interested in their journey and eager for comeuppance.

What starts off with a nearly The Forever Purge vibe takes a sharp turn into creepier John Hughes territory, then another dramatically Romero pivot. American Carnage looks good and performances are solid, but the movie can’t overcome those tonal shifts.