Tag Archives: MaddWolf

You’ve Got a Friend in Me

Will & Harper

by Hope Madden

Harper Steele loved traveling America and spent years upon years hitchhiking and driving from town to town, dive bar to dive bar, stock car race to pool hall to backwater, savoring every minute of it. But since she transitioned a couple of years ago, she’s afraid to do it anymore. She’s afraid to travel these roads in the same way any woman would be, and she’s afraid to travel them in the way that only a trans woman would be.

Her friend thinks maybe she can reexplore the country she loves as her true self if she has a man with her. Preferably a big, lumbering, lovable, friendly, famous friend willing to shift attention away from her whenever she might want him to. All she has to do is agree to go to stop at least once so Will Ferrell can get a traditional glazed at Dunkin Donuts.

There are so many reasons to watch Will & Harper, not the least of which is to see two of the smartest comedic minds (the two met on SNL when Steele was head writer for the show) riff.

And it’s not just the two of them. Their trip leads to run ins with some great SNL alum and a reminder that Kristin Wiig is insanely talented.

Another great reason to watch Will & Harper is that this film fits so beautifully into that American cinematic tradition of emotional, thrilling, deeply human road picture: one relationship changes and deepens with the landscape as America itself is more clearly revealed.

Because Steele’s America is not what anyone would consider a safe space for trans people—but where, really, is that space?

The friends begin in NYC with an SNL reunion and an awkward-at-best hug from Lorne Michaels. At a Pacers game, Indiana governor Eric Holcomb is eager to meet Ferrell, and it isn’t until a little googling after the photo op that he and Harper learn about the Republican politician’s aggressively anti-trans and anti-LGBTQ2+ policies. The scene leads to the first of many brazenly honest and emotional moments between the friends.

Ferrell’s tenderness and endearingly bumbling protectiveness is deeply lovely, even when—maybe especially when—it’s almost desperate. The deeper into red state territory the two travel, the more attention seeking Ferrell seems, almost certainly to try to create a protective shield around his friend. It doesn’t always work, and his own grief at his shortcomings as her friend are heartbreakingly lovely.

But it’s Steele whose openness and forthrightness breaks any but the coldest and most ignorant heart. And what she does—she and her buddy—that’s so important is to show how utterly and undeniably normal it all is: hating the way you look in a bathing suit, wanting and failing to love the sound of your own voice, wondering what it’s like to have boobs for the first time.

Will & Harper just makes you wonder how it can be possible for anyone to be upset by another person’s transition. It also makes you hope those who feel too stigmatized to do it realize that there is a better life.

“From the moment I transitioned, all I wanted to do was live.”

God I hope people see this movie.

Smooth Operators

Wolfs

by George Wolf (no relation)

Watch the trailer for Wolfs, and you hear Sinatra front and center.

But watch the movie, and it’s Sade time, baby.

I get that the Apple marketing department wants you to remember the fun of Clooney and Pitt’s Ocean’s Eleven franchise, but this new venture crafts its effective charm from a more seedy vibe.

New York D.A. Margaret (Amy Ryan) has a problem. She’s covered with blood in a swanky hotel with a much younger man (Austin Abrams), and he’s half naked on the floor with no pulse.

Plus, that’s a lot of drugs.

Margaret calls a fixer (Clooney), who promises to make it all go away. But it’s Pam (Frances McDormand) running the hotel and she has her own man (Pitt), who shows up with identical claims of problem solving.

The rival lone wolves have no intention of teaming up, but fate has other ideas. So it’s going to be a long and bumpy night.

Years before Reynolds and Jackman started their good natured ribbing, Clooney and Pitt owned the “fun frenemy” schtick, and writer/director Jon Watts reminds us that their charisma still has plenty of life.

The deadpan sparring is a mischievous hoot, as Margaret’s Man and Pam’s Man each strive to be too cool for competition while secretly pining for the other’s respect. Watts (Cop Car, the Spider-Man “Home” franchise, TV’s The Old Man) creates a nice counterbalance via the uncool “Kid” (Abrams is terrific) and backs up the snappy dialog with understated visual gags (one Man slowly peering around the corner at embarrassing moments) and some pieces of stylish, well-staged action.

There’s a winning air of confidence to the film, and it’s not just from two A-listers secure in their movie star status. Wolfs isn’t trying to re-invent any genres, but Watts displays plenty of skill with plot twisty intrigue.

These fixers aren’t leading a team of good-hearted thieves, robbing people who probably deserve it and righting old wrongs. Yes, they’re still unreasonably handsome, but they are shady characters with bloody pasts and clearly compromised moral codes. They are interesting, in a Tarantino sort of way.

And they are in one helluva mess. How dirty will they have to get to clean it up?

You may be surprised. Just don’t expect Vegas, and you’ll be entertained.

Photo Sensitive

Lee

by Hope Madden

Kate Winslet can hold her breath for 7 minutes and 15 seconds. That’s just one of many astonishing things about the 7-time Oscar nominee (and one-time winner), and it speaks to something she appears to seek in characters: badassedness.

And with her latest character, there’s no denying those bona fides. Winslet plays WWII photojournalist and all-around badass Lee Miller in Ellen Kuras’s biopic, Lee.

The film opens and closes on an interview between an aged Miller and a young man (Josh O’Connor, Challengers). This allows Winslet to provide a bit of voiceover as the film meanders through just a slice of Miller’s remarkable life, beginning with the day she met her husband, Roland Penrose (Alexander Skarsgård) at a garden party full of poets and painters in 1937—just two years shy of the beginning of WWII.

And though Miller’s life had already contained more than enough intrigue, adventure and invention for at least one film, there’s a reason Kuras (working from Liz Hannah, Marion Hume and John Collee’s adaption of Antony Penrose’s biography) began the story here. Miller’s work as a war correspondent and photographer is as breathtaking and heroic as anything you’re likely to see.

Kuras spent most of her career behind the camera in the role of cinematographer, collaborating with the likes of Michel Gondry, Spike Lee and Jim Jarmusch. Appropriately, you see every ounce of that experience with her first feature length narrative as director, working with DP Pawel Edelman. Kuras’s admiration for Miller’s work clearly influences her own shot making, just as a respect for Miller’s unapologetic confidence colors her approach to the storytelling.

Winslet’s wonderful, obviously—full of bravado and rage, vulnerability and impatience. The ensemble around her, mostly in fairly small roles, impresses as well. Andrea Riseborough and Andy Samberg are particular standouts.

Where Lee falls short is in its too-traditional execution, which feels out of step with the way Kuras elsewhere embraces Miller’s renegade spirit. The cinematic interview bookends, exposition-heavy narration, glossy look and conventional score feel at odds with the protagonist’s character.

Lee Miller deserved a gustier film. Lee is not a bad movie. It’s a very competently made, beautifully shot picture boasting very solid performances. It’s worth seeing. It’s just not as memorable as it ought to be.

Enter Sandman

Sleep

by Hope Madden

“Marriage is about tackling problems together.”

So says the hand-carved display in the small but cozy living room of Hyun-su (Lee Sun-kyun) and Soo-jin’s (Jung Yu-mi) apartment. What the struggling actor and his rising executive/very pregnant wife don’t know yet is that they’re about to have a hell of a problem to tackle.

Writer/director Jason Yu’s Sleep is a smartly scripted, playfully wearying horror with tension rooted firmly in how very much you like Hyun-su and Soo-jin.

At some point in Soo-jin’s ninth month, Hyun-su begins to talk in his sleep.

“Something’s inside.”

And then he walks in his sleep. Eats. Claws at his face. This, obviously, becomes somewhat frightening, but the couple aims to tackle this thing together. Of course, soon enough there will be three of them.

Yu slowly cranks up tension as Soo-jin struggles between a maternal desire to protect her baby and a deep-rooted commitment to working through every marital problem with her husband.

One of the anxieties Yu toys with is that bone-deep exhaustion of a new parent, amplified for Soo-jin by her wakeful watch to make sure her husband doesn’t do harm to the baby in his sleep. You’re exhausted for her, and when she seems to start making rash, even insane decisions, well, who could blame her?

The way Yu manipulates tone is a thing of wonder. The more desperate and bleary eyed the film becomes, the funnier it is, and that dark humor is both at home and wildly startling. But there is a sweetness to it, and a camaraderie between Jung and Lee (who died tragically last year) that insists on your investment in the outcome of their story.

The third act is almost brazenly unhinged, and Sleep is all the better for it. It’s a tricky tale meticulously crafted, but it has a sweetness at its heart and that’s what makes it memorable.

Fright Club: Down in the Pit!

What is it about a deep hole that is so profoundly terrifying? Is it the worry about what could be down there, waiting? Is it the claustrophobic terror of falling into the pit without hope of escape? Horror writers and filmmakers have exploited this particular primal dread for centuries. How many versions of The Pit and the Pendulum do we need to see to know Poe had struck a chord? There are two different (very worthy) films called The Hole, plus the lunatic horror The Pit, as well as John and the Hole, and of course, all the “buried alive” terror, like Ryan Reynolds’s Buried.

We want to peer way down in the hole to dig up our five favorite films from down in the pit.

5. The Hole in the Ground (2019)

Sara (Seána Kerslake), along with her bib overalls and young son Chris (James Quinn Markey), are finding it a little tough to settle into their new home in a very rural town. Chris misses his dad. Sara is having some life-at-the-crossroads anxiety.

Then a creepy neighbor, a massive sink hole (looks a bit like the sarlacc pit) and Ireland’s incredibly creepy folk music get inside her head and things really fall apart.

Writer/director Lee Cronin’s subtext never threatens his story, but instead informs the dread and guilt that pervade every scene. You look at your child one day and don’t recognize him or her. It’s a natural internal tension and a scab horror movies like to pick. Kids go through phases, your anxiety is reflected in their behavior, and suddenly you don’t really like what you see. You miss the cuter, littler version. Or in this case, you fear that inside your beautiful, sweet son lurks the same abusive monster as his father.

4. Jug Face (2013)

Writer/director Chad Crawford Kinkle brings together a fine cast including The Woman’s Sean Bridgers and Lauren Ashley Carter, as well as genre favorite Larry Fessenden and Sean Young to spin a backwoods yarn about incest, premonitions, kiln work, and a monster in a pit.

As a change of pace, Bridgers plays a wholly sympathetic character as Dawai, village simpleton and jug artist. On occasion, a spell comes over Dawai, and when he wakes, there’s a new jug on the kiln that bears the likeness of someone else in the village. That lucky soul must be fed to the monster in the pit so life can be as blessed and peaceful as before.

Kinkle mines for more than urban prejudice in his horror show about religious isolationists out in them woods. Young is particularly effective as an embittered wife, while Carter, playing a pregnant little sister trying to hide her bump, a jug, and an assortment of other secrets, steals the show.

3. I’m Not Scared (2003)

Director Gabriele Salvatores (Mediterraneo) crafts a perfect, gripping, breathless thriller with his Italian period piece. In a tiny Southern Italian town, kids run through lushly photographed fields on the hottest day of the year. They’re playing, and also establishing a hierarchy, and with their game Salvatores introduces a tension that will not let up until the last gasping breaths of his film.

Michele (Giuseppe Cristiano) sees a boy down a deep hole on a neighboring farm. The boy, Filippo (Mattia Di Pierro), believes he is dead and Michele is an angel. But the truth is far more sinister. I’m Not Scared is a masterpiece of a thriller.

2. Onibaba (1964)

Lush and gorgeous, frenzied and primal, spooky and poetic, Kaneto Shindô’s folktale of medieval Japan scores on every level, and Hiraku Hayashi’s manic score keeps you dizzy and on edge.

An older woman (Nobuko Otowa) and her daughter-in-law (Jitsuko Yoshimura) survive by murdering lost samurai and looting their goods.

Passions and jealousy, a deep pit and a dangerous mask, some of the most glorious cinematography you’ll see all combine with brooding performances to create a remarkable nightmare.

1. The Descent (2005)

A bunch of buddies get together for a spelunking adventure. One is still grieving a loss – actually, maybe more than one – but everybody’s ready for one of their outdoorsy group trip.

Writer/director Neil Marshall begins his film with an emotionally jolting shock, quickly followed by some awfully unsettling cave crawling and squeezing and generally hyperventilating, before turning dizzyingly panicky before snapping a bone right in two.

And then we find out there are monsters.

Long before the first drop of blood is drawn by the monsters – which are surprisingly well-conceived and tremendously creepy – the audience has already been wrung out emotionally.

The grislier the film gets, the more primal the tone becomes, eventually taking on a tenor as much like a war movie as a horror film. This is not surprising from the director that unleashed Dog Soldiers – a gory, fun werewolf adventure. But Marshall’s second attempt is far scarier.
For full-on horror, this is one hell of a monster movie.

Screening Room: Speak No Evil, The Killer’s Game, The 4:30 Movie & More

Quiet, Please

Speak No Evil

by Hope Madden

Speak No Evil is in a tough spot. Essentially, you’re either a moviegoer who will breathe easier this weekend knowing you’ll never again have to sit through the excruciating trailer, you’re a potentially interested horror fan, or you’re a horror fanatic wary that director James Watkins will pull punches landed by Christian Tafdrup’s  almost unwatchably grim but genuinely terrifying 2022 original.

Well, Watkins does not pull those punches, but they do land differently.

Louise and Ben Dalton (Mackenzie Davis and Scoot McNairy) are vacationing blandly in Italy with their 11-year-old, Agnes (Alix West Lefler) when a louder, more alive family catches Ben’s attention.

Paddy (James McAvoy) and Ciara (Aisling Franciosi) and their quiet lad Ant (Dan Hough) seem to be living life large, and Ben can’t help but envy that. So, after the Daltons are tucked blandly back into their London flat and he receives a postcard from their vacation pals inviting them out to the countryside, how can he say no?

We all know he should have said no, but that’s not how horror movies happen.

What follows is a horror of manners, and very few genres are more agonizing than that. Little by little by little, alone and very far from civilization, the Daltons’ polite respectability is jostled and clawed and eventually, of course, gutted.

Those familiar with Watkins’s work, especially his remarkable and remarkably unpleasant Eden Lake, needn’t worry that he’ll let you off the hook. This is not the sanitized English language version fans of the original feared.

Indeed, Watkins and a game cast highlighted by a feral McAvoy stick to Tafdrup’s script for better than half of the film. Watkins, who adapted the original script, complicates relationships and gives the visiting Dalton parents more backbone, but he doesn’t neuter the grim story being told. Instead, he ratches up tension, provides a more coherent backstory, and pulls out the big guns in Act 3.

If you’ve seen the original, I don’t think you’ll be disappointed by the direction the remake takes. Though it can feel like a correction aimed at pleasing a wider audience, it also makes for a more satisfying film.

Fanciosi is carving out a career of wonderfully nuanced genre performances (Nightingale, Stopmotion). We learned in 2017 with Split that McAvoy can do anything. Anything at all. He proves that here with a ferocious turn, evoking vulnerability and contempt sometimes in the same moment. It’s a compelling beast he creates, and no wonder weary travelers fall under his spell.

Watkins doesn’t make enough movies. For his latest he’s chosen a project with the narrowest chance of success. But here’s hoping he finds it.

Stardust Memories

Close Your Eyes

by George Wolf

Thirty-two years later, Spanish auteur Víctor Erice returns with his fourth feature, Close Your Eyes (Cerrar los ojos), a patiently exquisite study of memory, identity, and the reflecting power of film.

Former film director Miguel Garay (Manolo Solo) spends his days in a fishing village on the coast of Spain. He reads, writes the occasional short story, and dodges the conspiracy theories that still exist about his old friend Julio Arenas (Jose Coronado).

In 1990, Julio was starring in Miguel’s film The Farewell Gaze when he disappeared without a trace. The mystery is being revisited on TV’s “Unresolved Cases,” and Miguel travels to Madrid for his guest appearance.

The broadcast prompts a call from a woman from an elder care home in another Spanish village. There is a handyman they call Gardel who tends the grounds and keeps to himself. She is sure it is Julio.

Miguel must confirm this for himself, and the journey back through his past includes reconnecting with his film editor (Mario Pardo), a former lover (Soledad Villamil), Julio’s daughter (Ana Torrent), and one painful, tragic memory.

Erice (El Sur, The Spirit of the Beehive) sets a pace that is unhurried but necessary, and he fills the nearly three-hour running time with exquisite shot making, insightful dialog and meaningful silences. He also crafts the film-within-a-film as a compelling narrative in its own right, one that adds important elements to the touching and deeply resonant finale.

Now in his mid-eighties, Erice makes Close Your Eyes more than just a rumination on “how to grow old.” Expertly assembled and deceptively understated, it is a beautiful ode to the pleasure, pain, friendships and memories of a life well lived.

Matinee Rats

The 4:30 Movie

by George Wolf

Maybe Kevin Smith saw Sam Mendes, James Gray and Spielberg all come out of the pandemic with reflections on their film-loving early years. Or maybe he just liked the taste of Paul Thomas Anderson’s Licorice Pizza.

Either way, The 4:30 Movie finds Smith looking back with wistful zaniness at a pivotal time in his own life: 1986.

High school Junior Brian David (Austin Zajur from Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark and Smith’s own Clerks III) just can’t quit thinking about that time he made out with cute Sophomore Melody Barnegot (Siena Agudong, the Resident Evil TV series) in her backyard pool.

For some reason, Brian didn’t immediately follow up on that makeout sesh. But now he’s ready to ask for an official date, and they make plans to meet for the 4:30 screening of Bucklick (which, based on the theater poster, is the original Fletch).

But how they gonna sneak past the crazy theater manager (Ken Jeong) and into an R-rated flick? Turns out that’s just one of the obstacles standing between these kids and a movie.

You’ve also got Brian’s two friends (Reed Northrup, Nicholas Cirillo), their favorite wrestling entertainer (Sam Richardson), a Hot Usher (Genesis Rodriguez, and that is her character name), false accusations of perversion and a string of Smith regulars (Jason Mewes, Rosario Dawson, Jeff Anderson, Justin Long and Jason Lee).

I’ve laughed hard at some of Smith’s earlier movies, respected his blunt self-awareness and appreciated the moments when his frenetic dialog lands with earned insight. Here, while some overt Gen X reminiscing – bolstered by the closing Easter egg and blooper reel – may have a warmth about it, the charming core relationship between Brian and Melody gets lost. We’re pulling for them, but all the tangential and unnecessary diversions just end up working against the crude honesty that has marked Smith’s best work.

Few moments transcend beyond nostalgia, while the only laugh out loud sequence comes from mother/daughter Jennifer Schwalbach Smith and Harley Quinn Smith in Sugar Walls, the first of Kevin’s fake trailers. The other 85 minutes or so find humor that’s as obvious and forced as the speech from Hot Usher that lights a filmmaking fire in a young nerd.

The 4:30 Movie is certainly the Kevin Smith-iest of the filmmaker’s memory lanes we’ve been down recently. It’s also the most fractured and frustrating. Let’s hope his future is more rewarding.

Fatal (Error) Attraction

Subservience

by Daniel Baldwin

Life isn’t going so well for construction foreman Nick (Michele Morrone). Stress is high in his professional life, now that every construction worker beneath him has been canned in favor of robot labor. Lucky for Nick, the law still requires that a human foreman be on site. At least for now, anyway.

Things at home are even more stressful. His wife Maggie (Madeline Zima) needs a new heart. Having a costly, life-threatening surgery hanging over their heads isn’t easing any tensions. With Maggie in the hospital, Nick needs some help taking care of the kids and their home. Enter Alice (Megan Fox). Alice is a robot assistant designed specifically for housekeeping and babysitting. If you think hiring a cyborg nanny that looks like Megan Fox to (temporarily) replace the woman of the house is a bad idea, you are 110% correct.

What transpires from that moment onward isn’t going to be a shock to horror fans or even Lifetime viewers. A mentally and emotionally exhausted Nick does the stupidest thing imaginable: he sleeps with the robo-femme fatale, it develops a fixation on him, and chaos ensues. This isn’t a spoiler, it’s the hook. It’s exactly what we watch movies like this for. As the late Roger Ebert said, “it’s not what a movie is about, it’s how it is about it.”

Thankfully, the execution is mostly on point. While the world-building could have been stronger and the eroticism could have used a bit more steam, this is an entertaining high-concept yarn that wisely leans on its core cast. Subservience marks Megan Fox’s second teaming with director SK Dale, following on from their underseen 2021 thriller Till Death. While Fox isn’t given as much to chew on here due to the sheer nature of the role, she remains a standout.

Morrone carries himself well as the male lead and Zima is great as the wife who really shouldn’t have to be dealing with a stupid man or a crazy android on top of her life-threatening medical condition. Then again, maybe the bad luck is just all on Zima herself? After all, as the star of the ‘90s sitcom The Nanny, as well as both Mr. Nanny and The Hand That Rocks the Cradle, this underrated actress seems to be a magnet for psychotic babysitters!

If you’re a fan of science fiction-tinged thrillers, check it out.