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Riff Raff

by George Wolf

What’s that you say? The Monkey‘s brand of humor wasn’t dark enough for ya?

Well Merry F-ing Christmas. Riff Raff lives where it’s none more black, crafting just enough murderous, deadpan funny business to make it worthwhile.

The trouble all starts when Rocco (Lewis Pullman) and his pregnant girlfriend Marina (Emanuela Postacchini) run into Johnny (Michael Angelo Covino). The three share a romantic and friendly past, but when Johnny turns violent Rocco retaliates, which means he and Marina quickly find themselves on the run from Johnny’s gangster father, Lefty (Bill Murray).

The two head to Maine, and check in with Rocco’s father Vincent (Ed Harris), his wife Sandy (Gabrielle Union) and their teenage son D.J. (Miles J. Harvey). Oh, yeah, Rocco’s mother/Vincent’s ex Ruth (Jennifer Coolidge) is there, too, and danger sure makes her horny!

Hubba hubba, then, because danger’s on the way. Lefty and his henchman Lonnie (Pete Davidson) are coming to settle plenty of scores with Rocco’s extended brood.

There’s already much to keep track of, even before director Dito Montiel and writer John Pollono add in various time jumps and voiceover narration from young D.J. At times it feels like they’re both pushing too hard for nutty originality, desperate to put distance between this and other films you’ll be reminded of – especially Bad Times at the El Royale (also with Pullman).

What the film does have in its corner is a winning cast of vets who are all in on this dark ride. Of course, Murray and Coolidge are both a hoot, but Pullman and Postacchini seem believably desperate, Harris and Union hide their character secrets well, and Davidson brings a comically sympathetic layer to the doting and lethal Lonnie.

And when P.J. Byrne and Brooke Dillman pop in as an oversharing couple of suburbanites who are too clueless to be scared, their few minutes of exaggerated laughs are a welcome yin to the yang in the rest of the film.

It’s dry, bloody and violent, and is sure to be polarizing. If that’s an approach that speaks to you, Riff Raff can be downright hilarious. But chances are you may find this family crime caper as curious as it is funny.

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Let Them Hit the Floor

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Bodies Bodies Bodies

by Hope Madden & George Wolf

In a way, we’ve seen Bodies Bodies Bodies before. A group of good-looking, rich young people gathers in a remote home to imbibe and play stupid games that turn deadly. Think April Fool’s Day, Truth or Dare, Ouija.

A24’s latest horror film isn’t a straight reimagining or a satire of the sub-subgenre. It’s barely a part of the subgenre. Instead, B3 delivers an insider’s skewering of the sociology of a generation.

The result never condescends or patronizes. Not that it’s kind.

Director Halina Reijn’s clever (if slight) film roots its comedy and horror in Gen Z culture. Sophie (Amandla Stenberg, who also produces) brings her new girlfriend Bee (Maria Bakalova, Oscar nominee from Borat 2) to a rich buddy’s mansion for a hurricane party.

That buddy (Pete Davidson) and the rest of Sophie’s inner circle didn’t really expect her to show up, let alone bring a plus-one. And Bee’s more than a little out of her element with this group of spoiled rich kids.

When the weather finally hits, they decide to play a game with the lights off where one “killer” taps a player on the back, they play dead, and the one who finds them shouts “bodies bodies bodies.” Then you try to figure out the killer.

This is also the plot of the rest of the movie. Reijn and writers Sarah DeLappe and Kristen Roupenian are essentially predicting what happens when this generation finds themselves trapped without internet: Lord of the Flies.

A wicked script buoyed by smart visuals—particularly the use of lighting—emphasizes the social anxiety strangling these characters. Agatha Christie turns Agatha Bitchy as paranoia, self-absorption and toxic douchebaggery spoil the party games.

Reijn works the dark corners and vast emptiness of the estate setting for an effective undercurrent of tension as the beats and bodies keep dropping. And though the bloodletting is often offscreen, every new discovery becomes a chance to sharpen suspicions, reopen old wounds and hurl new accusations, with each partygoer struggling to navigate both offense and defense.

The compact cast sparkles with young talent, led by Stenberg and Bakalova. We essentially come to party with them, and it is the breakdown in their characters’ trust that keeps us off balance and fuels our anxieties. Davidson has fun riffing on his own bad boy image, and Shiva Baby‘s Rachel Sennot delivers the biggest smiles as the dim-witted Alice (“guys, doing a podcast is haaaaard!”).

The social commentary here is a bit tardy to be profound, and the 95-minute running time gets filled out via some repetition, but Bodies Bodies Bodies finds an entertaining sweet spot between gore and guffaws.

There’s just enough humor and horror to make the whodunnit less vital, so even solving the mystery early won’t spoil the party. The fun comes from just riding out the storm, and the film’s deliciously deadpan final line reveals that was the plan all along.