Tag Archives: movie reviews

Time to Check Out – For Good!

Stream

by George Wolf

Violence and cameos. It’s not a bad business model – just ask Deadpool & Wolverine.

Stream offers a steady stream of both, inside a rollicking blend of familiar tropes and beloved icons that should make Gen X horror fans positively giddy .

Linda Spring (the legendary Dee Wallace) owns a cozy hotel in the Pennsylvania countryside, and it’s finally ready for the big reopening. Perfect timing, because Roy and Elaine Keenan (Charles Edwin Powell, scream queen Danielle Harris) need a vacation. So they round up their gaming-obsessed son (Wesley Holloway) and boundary-testing daughter (Sydney Malakeh) and head for the hills.

But not long after checking in with Mr. Lockwood (Re-Animator‘s Jeffrey Combs), the Keenan family finds themselves in danger of checking out permanently. Four masked murderers are gleefully hunting the hotel guests, and competing for creative kill points in a sadistic competition that’s being streamed for wagering.

Director and co-writer Michael Leavy (a producer on Terrifier 2) keeps the body count high and the welcome practical effects in focus, with obvious nods to The Purge, Cabin in the Woods and more as the hotel guest list reveals more fan favorites from horror and beyond.

There’s Tony Todd, Bill Moseley and Felissa Rose! Plus, Tim Reid (WKRP), Terry Kiser (Weekend at Bernie‘s), Mark Holton (Francis from Pee Wee’s Big Adventure) and more to keep you pointing at the screen like DiCaprio in that one meme.

None of this is very original or profound, and the two-hour running time would definitely benefit from a more firm editing hand. But if you’d gladly trade all that for more cameos and bloody, nostalgic fun, Stream delivers a satisfying getaway.

Hug It Out

Alien: Romulus

by George Wolf

2013’s Evil Dead proved that director Fede Alvarez could honor what made a franchise iconic, and still blast it with some new vitality. For me, his is the best in the deadite series.

No, I’m not saying Romulus is the new king of the Alien mountain, but it sits pretty comfortably at number three, right after the first two.

And it’s between those first two films that Alvarez, co-writing again with Rodo Sayagues, carves out a memorable place in the franchise timeline, two decades after the Nostromo crew answered what they thought was a distress signal.

We still fall in with a group of weary contractors from the Weyland-Yutani Corp., but this time they are twentysomethings who have grown up on a grim mining colony and never seen the sunlight. Rain (Cailee Spaeny, solid) and her brother Andy (a terrific David Jonsson) lost their parents “three cycles ago,” and it’s become clear that the chances of ever earning their release from Weyland-Yutani are slim to none.

But her friends Tyler (Archie Senaux), Kay (Isabela Merced), Bjorn (Spike Fearn) and Navarro (Aileen Wu) have a plan.

They steal the decommissioned Weyland ship that’s docked on the Romulus space station, reboot its hyper sleep program, and set off on a nine-year journey to a new life on a planet with sunshine.

But there’s something else waiting on Romulus. You know.

And Alvarez taps into what we know early and often, creating that instant layer of tension that comes from new characters discovering the “perfect organism” we’re already plenty familiar with. That familiarity also means there’s no need to spare the monster rum, so prepare for plenty of brutal alien action that harkens back to the glorious sci-fi horror of Ridley Scott’s original 1979 film.

The technical craftsmanship (save for one curiously shaky effect I won’t spoil) is stellar, as well. Alvarez leans on the expertise of cinematographer Galo Olivares (Roma) and sound designer Lee Gilmore (Prey, Dune: Part One) to create another gritty, foreboding aesthetic that reeks of desperation and terrifying breaks of silence.

As Rain and her crew start learning what they’re up against, Alvarez shifts gears to mirror the clock-ticking adventure thrills that James Cameron wowed us with in 1986’s Aliens. So yes, you will be reminded of past glory, but Romulus also has some clever and refreshing ideas of its own.

One of those is an ingenious twist on Alien lore that is so tense and visually compelling it is hard to believe we haven’t seen it before. Bravo. On a more philosophical level, the script is able to develop a fascinating contrast between humans and their “synthetic” counterparts, exploring how quickly some acid blood can change the nature of expendability.

But this is not another rumination on the Engineers and why they engineered. Romulus is back-to-franchise-basics, giving us a little more insight into the Corporation’s endgame with a reveal that leads to one humdinger of an Act Three.

And it’s how you accept what is waiting there, along with the film’s amount of fan service (for me, it’s one callback too many), that should cement your feelings about Romulus.

Credit Alvarez for another win. He knows what made this franchise work, and how to make it work again. Alien: Romulus is relentlessly tense, consistently thrilling, and one thoroughly crowd-pleasing ride.

Half and Half

Close to You

by Hope Madden

“You were not worried about me when I was not OK.”

The quote is exactly the kind of lived-in epiphany you might expect from filmmaker Dominic Savage, whose work leans toward intimate improvisational dramas. In his latest, a young man, Sam (Elliot Page), returns home for the first time in four years—the first time since his transition. And though his family is supportive—almost giddily so—he dreads the trip because no matter who you are, your family is still on about their same shit.

So, Sam’s older sister’s concern about his job and his apartment and the stress he’s putting on his parents by staying away and how they’re all worried about him evokes a response that rings true no matter who your family is or how well you get along.

In these moments, Savage and Page, who gets a co-writing credit, unveil something so authentic that it’s impossible not to see both the uniqueness and the universality of their story. And Page is excellent, bringing an emotional depth and integrity to the character that reveals itself in scene after scene.

Close to You never wallows in tragedy or grief or pain, but in its best moments, it allows that sadness to singe its edges. The family drama builds relentlessly and honestly to something cathartic and difficult. Unfortunately, this is not really the story the filmmakers are telling. Savage balances the family drama with a romance. On the train in from Toronto, Sam runs into Katherine (Hillary Baack).

The two have history and a love story attempts to bloom, but it lacks all of the authenticity, detail and depth of the family drama. Nothing rings true, and the unstructured feel that gave the family’s storyline depth emphasizes emptiness in scenes between Page and Baack. Every time the film cuts away from the family to spend time in the budding relationship, you long to return to the unpleasantness of home.

When Savage finally abandons the family drama altogether in favor of the romance, the loose narrative feel becomes almost unbearable. Where early scenes spilled over with unspoken tensions and crackled with anxiety, later scenes meander and stall.

A stitched together whole of two unequal parts, Close to You leaves you wanting.

Trail Snacks

Consumed

by Hope Madden

The Wendigo is a presence that has proven hard to create on film. Ravenous—Antonia Bird’s 1999 small miracle of Western horror—conjures the spirit of the beast and comes off best. In her hands, the flesh consuming monster equates to the horrors of war.

For director Michael Altieri, working from a script by David Calbert, the mythical creature is a stand-in for cancer. It’s a great conceit, honestly, and one I wish had been executed a little more successfully.

Courtney Halverson plays Beth, who heads into the deep woods with her husband, Jay (Mark Famiglietti) to celebrate one year of remission. But the two are stalked by something terrifying and eventually fall into the hands of another person (Devon Sawa)—friend or foe, they can’t quite tell—as they plot their escape from the forest.

Altieri—formerly half of the Butcher Brothers (The Hamiltons, A Beginner’s Guide to Snuff, The Violent Kind), this time directing solo—soaks much production value from his two or three locations. A clear pro with limited means, Altieri makes the most of just three performers, generating dread and analogizing well.

The performers range in skill. Genre veteran Sawa convinces as the hunter with a past and an agenda and Famiglietti fares well enough as the supportive husband, although there’s not a lot to the role.

Most of the weight of the film lands on Halverson’s shoulders and she struggles early on, the layers of her conflicted emotions never taking authentic shape. She’s on more solid ground once Beth goes full badass, but without an early emotional hook for her character and relationship with her husband, you’re less invested in their survival.

More problematic is the presentation of the beast itself. Here the budget really makes itself known. Altieri oscillates between smoky swirls of digital FX and the shadowy presence of practical FX, but the combination is far from seamless. The film would have benefitted from sticking with practical and taking a less-is-more approach to what it showed.

It doesn’t entirely sink the production, but it does slow whatever momentum Consumed builds every time the beast arrives. Given its other setbacks, that’s enough to lessen the overall satisfaction the movie offers.

The Great Escape

In the Rearview

by Brandon Thomas

Cinema has always sought to find beauty and humanity in even the worst of times. Wars are often those worst of times. The new documentary In the Rearview seeks to put the spotlight on human stories as war ravages the country of Ukraine. 

A driver, a cameraman, and refugees fleeing their homes: these are the real life characters that exist within In the Rearview’s running time. It’s not a film trying to unravel a great mystery or highlight the life of a famous person. No, this is a film that seeks only to share the stories of people whose entire lives have been upended by war. As the driver traverses dangerous situations, military checkpoints, and damaged roads, the camera captures these people talking about the lives they are leaving behind and the lives they hope to return to.

The despair felt by the people fleeing their home country is palpable. Many are leaving family pets behind or loved ones who are unable to make the journey. It’s devastating to watch families torn apart in real time – not knowing when they might see each other again. 

The footage is matter of fact and presented without sensationalism. The war is only seen through images of bombed bridges, tank tracks, military run checkpoints, and the haunted faces of the van’s passengers. This lack of polish makes In the Rearview stand out from most contemporary documentaries. 

In the Rearview is a riveting look at how the destructive power of war impacts more than just flesh and bone.

Odd Bird

My Penguin Friend

by Hope Madden

An old fisherman who’s never recovered from an unendurable loss saves the life of a little penguin. They become best friends. It’s a true story that was clearly designed by the movie gods, but luckily it fell into the hands of director David Schurmann, whose work may lean crowd-pleasing but never glossy or self-indulgent.

My Penguin Friend doesn’t need it. Though Act 1, introducing the tragedy that will haunt Joao (Jean Reno, a heartbreaking delight), does go a bit over the top in its cinematic tendencies, Schurmann and team settle into a more natural rhythm by the beginning of the second act.

Reno’s a broken, sunken old man who doesn’t go into town and hasn’t talked with his old fisherman friends in so long they barely remember. His wife Maria (Adriana Barraza, underused but as nuanced and authentic as ever) co-exists but the emptiness of their home is its own character.

Schurmann doesn’t rely on an imposing score or even a seasoned cast to manipulate our emotions, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t do it. It’s what he does not show in Act 1 that haunts Reno’s eyes and the surface of the ocean outside Joao and Maria’s window. Schurmann reminds us of what none of us could bear to see just often enough to make your breath catch for the fear that Joao might have to live through the heartbreak again.

Which would be unbearable if the film didn’t also offer the levity, goofiness and undeniable cuteness of this penguin who befriends Joao, baffles scientists, and swims 5000 miles from Argentina to Brazil every year or so to hang out and watch TV on the sofa with his buddy.

It’s about the dearest thing you’re ever going to see, which just about makes up for the fact that most of the ensemble has never acted and it shows. Any stretch of narrative without Reno feels twice as long as it is, but there is no denying the heartbreaking charm whenever he and Barraza are onscreen.

There are plenty of flaws that keep My Penguin Friend from really singing, but it’s not enough to dampen the joy to be found with this odd couple.

Vault Vamp

Borderlands

by Hope Madden

I want very much to love that Cate Blanchett keeps making Eli Roth movies. Maybe I could find that love if Roth would put her in something he knows how to make—a horror film—instead of trapping her inside a genre he can’t seem to figure out himself.

Borderlands is Roth’s big screen adaptation of a popular video game, a Mad Max style fantasy that follows low life bounty hunter Lilith (Blanchett) to a vile planet of opportunists and thieves on a quest to retrieve the kidnapped daughter of a mogul (Edgar Ramírez).

But daughter Tina (Ariana Greenblatt, Barbie) doesn’t want to be rescued and soon, begrudgingly, Lilith becomes part of Tina’s ragtag band of misfit heroes (along with Kevin Hart, Jamie Lee Curtis, Florian Munteanu and the voice of Jack Black).

That’s a good cast, top to bottom. Black and Blanchett co-led Roth’s 2018 misfire The House with a Clock in its Walls. It wasn’t a big miss. It was a fine if unremarkable adaptation of the John Bellairs novel for kids. But Blanchett and Black were fun.

This go-round, Black’s limited to pointless annoyance as he voices robot sidekick Claptrap. Blanchett is glorious, naturally, cutting an imposing video game figure with sly wit and grace. Greenblatt’s a bit of fun, Hart’s underused. But the cast is not the problem.

Roth feels out of sorts. The action is not compelling, the comic timing is way off, there’s little chemistry among his merry band, the stakes feel low, surprises are few, meaningful transitions from one set up to the next don’t exist, the FX are not great.

There are two main action set pieces (that’s not nearly enough, by the way) that could have amounted to something interesting: one with a car and a giant piss field monster and the second with an underground tunnel full of lunatics. Roth can’t generate either the exhilaration or the comedy the first calls for. The second comes closer—it’s a horror set up, truth be told, and that should be an easier fit for the filmmaker—and it’s a natural video game fit. It’s the closest he comes to excitement, but it’s belabored, its end an utter disappointment.

Like the film.

Growing Up Fast

It Ends With Us

by George Wolf

In the years since the It Ends With Us novel was released, author Colleen Hoover has admitted that her main characters were just too young. That mistake has been corrected for the film adaptation, although leaving behind the Young Adult trappings isn’t quite so easy.

Lily Bloom (Blake Lively) is now in her mid-30s, and meets Dr. Ryle Kincaid (now late 30s – a much more logical age for any neurosurgeon not named Doogie Houser) on the roof of his Boston apartment building. Lily’s up there to reflect on the recent death of her father, while Ryle (Justin Baldoni, who also directs) is headed up to blow off some steam – our first clue that he has a temper.

He’s a chisled, forever stubble-faced playboy, while she’s the flower shop owning “girl you take home to Mama,” so their relationship takes time to build. This patience works in the film’s favor.

Baldoni and screenwriter Christy Hall (fresh off the smartly provocative Daddio) layer the present day romance with effective flashbacks to teenaged Lily (Isabela Ferrer) and her first love, Atlas Corrigan (Alex Neustaedter). Back then, they helped each other cope with violence at home, but his Marine commitment pulled them apart after graduation.

So imagine the surprise when Atlas (Brandon Sklenar) turns out to be the owner of the hot new restaurant that Lily’s bestie Allysa (Jenny Slate) loves. Jealousy only adds fuel to Ryle’s dangerous behavior, which pulls Lily into an all-too-familiar cycle of disfunction.

Lively’s committed performance goes a long way toward easing the awkwardness of the contrivances at play. She allows us to feel Lily’s caution, which makes her desperate feelings of guilt resonate when the “accidents” begin to happen.

Slate is always a treat, but the slightly kooky best friend character seems a bit forced here, as does Baldoni’s reliance on interchangeable pop songs to continue the conversation.

This is a conversation worth having, and the film does manage some moments of poignancy. It also wisely chooses Atlas to serve more as a reminder to Lily than her savior. But nearly every issue the film addresses – such as the circumstances that make it difficult for women to leave abusive relationships – are raised and lowered with an efficient tidiness that betrays the story’s beginnings.

It End With Us still has YA in its blood, after all. It’s older, wiser, and has learned some hard lessons, but ultimately finds comfort in the string-pulling formula they love back home.