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Is It the Path to a Better Movie?

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Across the River and Into the Trees

by Rachel Willis

Based on the novel by Ernest Hemingway, director Paula Ortiz’s Across the River and Into the Trees is a stunning-to-look-at film about an older man struggling with his past.

The film opens with Colonel Richard Cantwell (Liev Schreiber) receiving unpleasant news from an army doctor. However much the doctor pleads with Cantwell to check into a hospital, the colonel refuses, instead claiming he’ll do so after a weekend trip to Venice.

Along for the ride is Jackson (Josh Hutcherson) a naïve young soldier who wants nothing more than to leave the war behind and return to Kentucky.

Though based on Hemingway’s work, much of the movie’s dialogue feels like the creation of screenwriter Peter Flannery. For a film that relies on character interaction and discussion, much of the dialogue is either heavy-handed and unnatural or terribly banal. The moments shared between Jackson and Cantwell have little depth, despite the pair’s shared experiences with war.

There is also a distinct lack of chemistry between the actors, which only worsens when we met the young Italian woman, Renata (Matilda de Angelis). Though she and Cantwell are supposed to share a deep connection, the audience never feels it. And as Renata claims more of the film’s screen time, Jackson’s presence becomes even more superficial.

Of the bunch, Schreiber is the most effective, conveying more emotion with small moments of silence. Hutcherson is not without talent, but he is given so little to work with that his part is frustrating. His character’s lack of depth becomes more disappointing as we learn more about the reserved Cantwell.

As for Renata, her role in Cantwell’s story is the most superfluous. Her backstory is neither original nor compelling, and though de Angelis may be a fine actor, you wouldn’t know it from this film.

What works for the film is the setting, the costuming, and the cinematography. They’re a pleasure to behold in a film that otherwise brings nothing substantial to the table.

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Pork & Pickles

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Hitpig

by Hope Madden

Do you ever take one look at the villain in an animated film and know exactly how things will go? I don’t mean the villainy. I mean the comedy.

The second Leapin’ Lord of the Leotard (Rainn Wilson) pranced across the screen in Hitpig, spilling over his thong and tights, I knew. As flamboyant as he is round, Leapin’ Lord is comic relief wrapped in fat jokes veiled thinly beneath homophobia.

That’s just problem #1.

The film pits a bounty hunter pig (Jason Sudeikis) against an eco-criminal (Anitta) who routinely breaks animals out of their involuntary confinement. The latest escapee is Pickles the Elephant (Lilly Singh), the Leapin’ Lord’s dance partner.

The script comes in part from Berkeley Breathed, whose delightful Pete & Pickles picture book series inspires the adventure. Hitpig needs to get Pickles to Vegas for showtime, but Pickles just seems to get them into one misadventure after another.

Directors Cinzia Angelini and Davis Feiss can’t land on a tone (except when they go tone deaf with the fat jokes). The animation, basic plotting and quick scene changes would appeal to the very young. Much of the humor might entertain older kids who’d be put off by the very silly antics. Certain jokes seem aimed at adults, who are no doubt already bored into a fugue state.

Lessons are learned, stakes are low, animation style is bland, jokes go on too long and the slight story is stretched beyond breaking. A solid cast (RuPaul, Hannah Gadsby and Flavor Flav round out the voice talent) and a few charming moments can’t overcome the film’s lack of narrative cohesion or heart.

There is a moment in this film where the nasty villain slams Pickles the Elephant in a train car, only her terrified eyes visible behind the bars. This ode to Dumbo may have seemed necessary in another animated film about a mistreated show elephant. But that particular image—recalling one of the most traumatizing moments in the history of family films—serves as a startling reminder of just how mediocre Hitpig really is.

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Something Personal to Say

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Chasing Chasing Amy

by Hope Madden

Nearly 30 years ago, Kevin Smith did what he does best. He made a film so simple, so personal, so deeply human, so profoundly myopic, so densely problematic, so deeply heterosexual-white-dude that it was hard not to simultaneously hate and love it. In fact, of all Smith’s movies, his 1997 straight-boy-falls-for-lesbian romcom Chasing Amy fits that (rather lengthy) bill best.

Hell, just being the indie darling of 1997 – pinnacle Weinstein era – creates additional problems, let alone the way Smith’s script funhouse mirrors his offscreen relationship with the star (Joey Lauren Adams, who earned a Golden Globe nomination for her vivid performance).

Whew, that’s a lot to unpack, and it’s not even the primary focus of Chasing Chasing Amy. For documentarian Sav Rodgers, stumbling across Smith’s film in his parents’ stash of Ben Affleck flicks as a kid saved his life. Literally. During his toughest times, Rodgers would watch the film every day. He’d never seen queer people in a film before. And he wanted to believe that one day he would find the kind of love Holden (Affleck) expressed for Alyssa (Adams).

And yet.

For many (most?) in the LGBTQ community, Chasing Amy is nothing if not problematic. So, what begins as Sav’s odyssey through the film’s New Jersey landmarks turns into an investigation into the movie’s queer depictions, then becomes an enduring friendship with Smith himself before turning into a remarkable examination of the seedy state of independent film in 1997. And that alone would be more than worth the price of admission.

Indeed, Rodgers gets better, more insightful talking head interviews for this doc than I’ve seen in any documentary in the last several years. Guinevere Turner (who wrote 1997’s Go Fish and partly inspired the character of Alyssa), in particular, is a treasure.

But even as Rodgers’s film metamorphosizes, so does its filmmaker. Because Rodgers is himself a large part of his film – the film’s impact on his own life did inspire the documentary – the director cannot help but document his own journey. And not his journey as a filmmaker, but as a trans man.

Rodgers possesses sharp storytelling instincts and a cinematic presence so sincere and authentic it could break your heart. You come away from this film hoping genuinely for his happiness and waiting eagerly for his next film.

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Games People Play

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The Remarkable Life of Ibelin

by George Wolf

If you join me in sometimes wondering whether we all might have been better off if the internet was never invented, The Remarkable Life of Ibelin will turn your head.

It will also put tears in your eyes, so come prepared for a moving story about one young man’s very secret, very fulfilling life.

Norwegian Mats Steen was born with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy, a rare and degenerative muscle disease that took Mats’s life at the age of 25. As his disease progressed, Mats spent more and more time online playing World of Warcraft, leaving his parents despondent that their son would never know the simple joys of friendship, community and social interaction.

But Mats was careful to leave behind his password, And with it, his family soon discovered that Mats enjoyed all they wished for him and more as Ibelin Redemore, P.I., the role he played within a WoW community called Starlight.

And because of the the online game’s extensive archive, director Benjamin Ree (The Painter and the Thief) is able to recreate the life Mats lived inside the game.

On a broader scale, the gaming community will find plenty of reinforcement here, but the real power of this film lies in its intimacy. It is a story of empowerment, and how a special young man transcended his limitations to touch people’s lives in ways his parents could never imagine.

The Remarkable Life of Ibelin is remarkable in its own right. It weaves together interviews, home movies and stylized game recreations into a journey of stirring emotion, led by one young man whose humanity would not be denied.

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Happiness Is a Warm Puppy

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Hangdog

by Rachel Willis

Though not obvious at first, it becomes apparent that all is not right with Walt’s (Desmin Borges) world in director Matt Cascella’s film, Hangdog.

Walt struggles to find work after leaving his job and moving to Portland, Maine with his smart, successful girlfriend, Wendy (Kelly O’Sullivan). Though their life from the outside seems fine, Walt doesn’t believe he’s good enough for Wendy. He often thinks she loves her dog, Tony, more than she loves him.

So, when Tony is stolen while under Walt’s care, his anxiety and desperation peak.

While the stolen dog is the centerpiece of the film, this is really an examination of how anxiety and depression affect everything in a person’s life. Walt does what he can to find Tony, hanging missing dog flyers, answering every call that may offer some piece of information.

The journey shows Walt’s declining mental health, but it also forces him to interact with others. Some of the people who reach out have no information, but they themselves need a connection of some sort.

Each character adds to the layered story, and none are without flaws. It reinforces to Walt (and the audience) that most of us are struggling or have struggled at some time in life.

Borges excels at portraying Walt as feeling very alone, even with a supportive girlfriend and others willing to reach out a hand. He skillfully conveys the isolation and depression that can make anyone feel worthless.

Cascella has crafted a touching, often funny film about the ways people deal with their personal failings and hang-ups. It’s easy to connect with Walt’s unhappiness, and feeling of uselessness. It’s impossible not to empathize with Walt.

And to make sure you don’t get too down while watching the film, there are a lot of funny people and one hell of a cute dog in the mix.

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Dear Diary: I Wanna Rock!

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Road Diary: Bruce Springsteen and The E Street Band

by George Wolf

In early 2020, Bruce Springsteen had a new album to promote, but – thanks to lockdown – no place to play. Instead, Bruce and longtime collaborator Thom Zimny filmed a very exclusive show at his New Jersey ranch, and released the Western Stars concert film.

The music was inspired by the smooth California sound of artists such as Glen Campbell and Burt Bacharach, and featured a band full of orchestral musicians instead of Bruce’s longtime road warriors.

By the time the E Streeters -Rock Hall of Famers on their own – reunited for Bruce’s current tour, they hadn’t been together for six full years. Hulu’s Road Diary digs into that reunion with joy and celebration, showcasing the creative process fueling Springsteen’s reputation as one of the greatest live performers in the history of rock and roll.

Zimny is back to direct, and though we are treated to several Springsteen bangers, the focus here is less about songwriting inspirations and more about the business of how those legendary E Street shows come together.

It starts, of course, with rehearsals, and Zimny’s access gives us fascinating insight into how Bruce gets the two things he wants from the warmups: to “shake off the cobwebs” and to assemble a set list.

Springsteen’s devotion to live performing is inescapable, as is the power of the musical unit backing him up. And while the band is getting prepared for the future, we do get some charming glimpses of their past. Home movies and band interviews bring context for these longtime bonds, and provide the opportunity for warm tributes in memory of Clarence Clemons and Danny Federici.

Obviously, the film is a must for Springsteen devotees, and a thrilling bookend to any show from this current tour. But for anyone who has only heard tell of the Bruce/E Street experience and wondered about the hype, Road Diary should provide a healthy nudge toward the next nearest concert.

Yes, Bruce just turned 75, but this film will also dispel any talk of retirement.

“It’s my job,” he says. “After 50 years on the road, it’s too late to stop now.”

One, two, three, FOUR!

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Monster Match

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Your Monster

by Hope Madden

Often, the most useful way to revisit the worst moments in a life is through horror or comedy. Genre lets us distance ourselves from the truth of a situation—that people are often selfish and even evil, and that the world can be bone crushingly lonely and cruel—with laughter or screams while still acknowledging that reality. Surviving it, even.

Writer/director Caroline Lindy navigates a blend of genres—comedy, drama, musical, romance, horror—with a clever “beauty and the beast” tale that acknowledges that each of us can be our own beauty and our own beast. Life may work best that way for everyone. Except Jacob. But Jacob’s a dick.

Lindy expertly montages us through the backstory. Laura (Melissa Barrera, Abigail) and Jacob (Edmund Donovan) are a cute couple working together on a musical. Laura will be the lead and she’s overcome with joy. Then there’s a cancer diagnosis, then a hospital room breakup that ends with Laura sobbing after a fleeing Jacob as she grips the IV stand she’s dragged to the hospital hallway.

Without Jacob’s apartment to return to, bestie Mazie (Kayla Foster) drops Laura at the house she grew up in, where she will cry her way through many boxes of tissues as she eats her way through many boxes of snacks, all alone—except for the monster (Tommy Dewey, Saturday Night’s Michael O’Donoghue) who used to be under her bed and who’s grown used to having the place to himself.

From here, Lindy does an exceptional job of disguising a brilliant journey of self-discovery as a New York romcom about a budding actress denied her Broadway debut by her gaslighting ex.

Barrera’s never been better and Dewey strikes the perfect balance between ferocious beast and supportive buddy.

The metaphor is perfect. So much so that a lot of viewers may see right past it and believe this is, indeed, the story of a woman who falls in love with a ferociously loyal monster. And that’s fine. If you want a musical theater romance, Your Monster delivers.

But it’s Lindy’s crafty subversion of all those tropes, and her game cast’s spot-on characterizations within this genre mashup, that makes the film—and, in particular, the final scene—so wickedly satisfying.  

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The Cook, the Nurse, the Musician & Her Daughter

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Allswell in New York

by Matt Weiner

A standout cast with grounded performances alongside a soufflé of light but surmountable tension—all the ingredients are there for a breezy, comforting hit.

And Allswell in New York has its moments. The film shines as an ensemble piece with its three leads: sisters Ida (a sparkling and newly Emmy-winning Liza Colón-Zayas) and Daisy (Elizabeth Rodriguez, who co-wrote the screenplay with director Ben Snyder), and their sister-in-law Serene (Daphne Rubin-Vega).

Allswell follows the three Nuyorican women and the ups and downs of midlife in New York. Daisy is welcoming a surrogate into her life, a young woman throwing out so many red flags that it feels almost offensive to Daisy’s intelligence when she is shocked by an inevitable twist.

Serene’s daughter Constance (Shyrley Rodriguez) is worrying her mother sick with a shady “modeling” career. And nurse Ida has trouble at work trying to help her good friend and coworker stay out of trouble for stealing rapid STD tests to help the poor. (This sets up a recurring theme where Ida’s main conflict is that she is just too much of a saint. It’s a thankless role compared to what the other women go through, but then that’s why you get Colón-Zayas to make it exciting and give the character more depth than her struggle suggests.)

When Serene’s long-absent husband, Desmond (Felix Solis)—and Ida and and Daisy’s brother—shows up at Ida’s clinic looking deeply unwell, the family’s tensions and long-simmering grudges come to a head.

If it all sounds soapy, much of it is. Which wouldn’t be a problem, except it ends up being at odds with both the affecting naturalistic turns from the leading women and, perhaps even more intractable, a tight runtime that leaves no room to explore the less stock sides of these women.

One striking example is the titular Allswell, a restaurant co-owned by Daisy that serves as a central meeting place. There’s an entire subplot with a barely used Bobby Cannavale that could’ve been its own movie. But the same goes for most of whatever glimpses we get of the peripheries of these women’s lives.

Rodriguez, Colón-Zayas and Rubin-Vega all invest so much in these women, and it’s a credit to their performances that we can fill in so much of their lives when the story itself doesn’t seem to want to spend any more time with them than is necessary for exposition. It’s not that the time spent at Allswell is unpleasant. But it does leave you wishing you could’ve ordered just a little bit more.

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Jump Scare

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Rippy

by Brandon Thomas

We joke that the Australian Outback is full of animals that want to kill us. From coast to coast, freshwater and saltwater crocodiles, wild dogs, and poisonous snakes and spiders are found. And that’s not even counting the massive Great White Sharks in the waters off Australia’s beaches. But what about the kangaroo? Sure, they’re abnormally buff and can kick like a gymnast on speed, but their reputation – while not entirely cuddly – isn’t aligned with Australia’s “toothier” residents. 

But what if it was a zombie kangaroo? 

I’m listening.

Small town sheriff Maddy (Tess Haubrich) lives in the shadow of her former law enforcement father. Still reeling from her father’s death when she was a child, Maddy strives to be the kind of strong sheriff he was. When several residents turn up ripped to pieces, Maddy’s eccentric uncle Schmitty (Michael Biehn of Aliens and The Terminator) blames a massive kangaroo. While initially hesitant to believe her uncle’s wild story, Maddy begins to suspect something sinister is stalking the outback as more bodies pile up.

Rippy throws a lot at the audience and not everything sticks. There’s a notable attempt at character development that’s given its all by a game cast, but unfortunately, these long monologue-y scenes stop the film dead. Not to say this kind of character work can’t succeed in a creature feature (see Jaws), but the writing and structure of Rippy make these scenes feel out of place and clunky. Still, it’s nice to see Biehn play a character that isn’t the alpha hero, and one that also gets to serve as the comic relief throughout the film. 

Director Ryan Coonan has some exciting ideas for the kangaroo carnage, but the limitations of the creature f/x work end up sucking the life out of these sequences. The exploitation genesis of a project like Rippy feels ripe for gooey, tactile practical effects that are much more forgiving on a limited budget. Understandably, Coonan would go digital for the film’s more ambitious shots, but the overuse of the poorly rendered CGI kangaroo rids the creature of a lot of its menace. 

Disappointing effects work aside, Rippy still gets points for putting a zombie kangaroo on screen. Coonan ends the film with some pretty big hints about where a potential sequel might go. With a few more dollars thrown his way for more impressive creature work, a sequel to Rippy might just jump high enough to get my attention.