Tag Archives: Rachel Willis

Car Wheels on a Gravel Road

Tinsman Road

by Rachel Willis

Writer, director, and star Robbie Banfitch crafts a unique, documentary-style film with his feature, Tinsman Road.

Banfitch plays Robbie Lyle, a documentarian focused on capturing his mother Leslie’s (Leslie Ann Banfitch) belief that her missing daughter is now an angel.

Leslie’s grief is tangible, and as the “documentary” progresses, her hold on reality seems more and more tenuous. Her belief that her daughter is now a visiting angel is met with tender skepticism by her son. When she asks if he believes in psychics, she answers his no with the assurance that while “some are scams,” hers is real.

Leslie Banfitch’s naturalism helps sell the documentary approach. Her ability to fully encompass a woman who believes her missing daughter now haunts her life is not only heartfelt but convincing. Her performance sets the film apart from similar, weaker fare. Robbie’s own grief feels two-fold. Not only does he also mourn the loss of his sister but feels helpless in helping his mom with her grief. It’s a heart wrenching dilemma.

Eerie elements underscore the fact that, while this is a movie about a grieving family, it’s also a horror film. It’s these subtleties from the very beginning that slowly suck you in. The film also pulls artfully from the true crime genre.

The camera work and low-budget quality of the movie both heighten the tension and add to the sorrow surrounding the characters. Though the style has certainly been overused in the horror genre, Banfitch manages to make it feel like a necessary choice.

Certain moments feel unnecessary, but they’re few and far between. The removal of one or two scenes may have helped tighten pacing. But these are small imperfections, easy to overlook.

Tinsman Road‘s slowly building dread gives way to a shattering climax. The intensity of the third act is stomach churning, especially after the quiet meditation on grief that came before it. Banfitch rewards your patience with the finale.

Grief and horror have often gone hand in hand, and Banfitch offers up a worthy contribution.

Her Business

Due West

by Rachel Willis

Director Evan Miller focuses his attention on a desperate Woman in his first feature film, Due West.

Co-writing with Hardy Janson, Miller opens the film by letting the camera rest on a solitary woman standing outside a quiet bar. This unnamed Woman (Adrianne Palicki) smokes, taps her foot nervously against the wall, and waits for a text that tells her she will need $700 by tomorrow.

It’s not much to go on, but it’s clear from the tension that bleeds from every gesture and expression from the Woman that this is a steep sum of money. And money she desperately needs.

It’s hard not to be hooked as we follow her from moment to moment. Even as two bar patrons shoot the shit with a female bartender, our gaze never strays from our protagonist for long. When she re-enters the bar, her anxious body language belies the smile on her face.

Though not explicitly stated, it’s easy to figure out why the Woman needs the money. The sum, the cryptic texts, and the command to text from a burner phone when she reaches her destination speak to a procedure recently made illegal in many states after a certain, damaging Supreme Court ruling.

The film’s dialogue, at times, is stunning. It brings with it snatches of backstory, life lived in a small town in West Texas, where the people know your business whether you want them to or not. Especially when you don’t want them to. Sadly, there are also times when it leaves subtlety behind – to the film’s detriment.

The second half of the film is when it starts to fall apart. Though our sympathy lies with the protagonist, as we learn more of her story, as she makes certain choices, judgment bleeds into the film. It ends up making a statement that there is a “right” type of situation when a certain procedure is justified. Whether intentional or not, it’s a harmful choice for a film to make when women deserve the right to care regardless of the why.

Better Together

What Tomorrow Brings

by Rachel Willis

After her mother leaves, Clara is forced to take care of her little sister in director Matt Englebert’s feature, What Tomorrow Brings.

Clara (Joely Englebert, who is also credited as a writer) is used to caring for Ruby (Phoebe Englebert, another co-writer). Even before her mother left, Clara’s dying father charged her with putting Ruby first, telling Clara her mother “wasn’t as strong” as Clara. Though Clara has fond memories of her father, the parent in me cringed to watch him put that burden on her.

The film’s present-day story is framed by voice-over narration in the form of Clara’s diary entries. Through these, we’re told rather than shown how she feels while shouldering the weight of caring for her sister alone.

The movie has some genuinely touching moments, but too often, those moments flounder under the weight of unnatural dialogue. The young actors struggle delivering such artificial lines.

The film’s tender heart and moments of true emotion manage to sparkle through the rough dialogue and some bizarre turns. This is due in part to the strength of the film’s youngest actor, Phoebe. She excels throughout, crafting Ruby as the film’s most believable character. Ruby’s moments of fear, heartbreak and joy are when the film’s emotion truly shines.

Though Clara anchors the film as its center, Joely never quite conveys the depth of anxiety the character feels. Nor is she quite able to show us how deeply she cares for her sister (despite their real-life relationship).

Directing, Matt glosses over the sisters’ hardships in favor of several montages that try to draw us into their sisterly bond. It doesn’t work.

Unfortunately, What Tomorrow Brings shies away from anything too intense or raw. This means that when the film reaches its climax, the turn feels unearned.

It’s too bad, because this is a movie that wants you to focus on hope, found family, and faith. Those are worthy themes, but when they come too easily, they don’t hold any weight. 

Rifles and Roos

Seven Snipers

by Rachel Willis

Director Sandra Sciberras and writer Andrew O’Keefe drop us into the outback of Australia for her intense thriller, Seven Snipers.

The movie doesn’t take its time before jumping into the action. The intensity throughout the first half of the film is top notch. We’re not given much information as we’re introduced to a reclusive mom (Radha Mitchell) and her stubborn daughter, Anja (Annabel Wolfe). After Anja leaves for school with her boyfriend, a realtor drives onto the scene to offer to buy the farm from Mom.

From here, we’re thrown right into an intense battle that leaves you wondering just what the hell is happening. When the realtor addresses our main character as Voodoo Child and references The Dragon, Mom’s shocked and fearful reaction lets us know something bad is on its way.

Seven Snipers works best during its first half. The lack of information only makes the situation more interesting as the tension ratchets up with the arrival of six battle-hardened men and women who offer to help protect Voodoo Child and her daughter.

It’s when the action slows and backstory creeps in that the movie starts to feel bogged down. While Seven Snipers never spends too much time on the why of things, it’s still a disappointing comedown from the preceding action. Especially since the reason behind it all is not very interesting.

Despite the dissatisfaction that colors the backstory, the acting is stellar. We spend very little time with each character in service of the action, but the actors still carve out independent personalities (well, most of them).  O’Keefe tends to rely on oft-used character tropes, but Sciberras makes it work. You’re not going to find the most lively cast of characters, but the acting does a lot of the heavy lifting to make the audience at least feel something as everyone is put through the wringer.

Flaws and all, Seven Snipers is an entertaining hell of a ride.

Admirably Relentless

Steal This Story, Please!

by Rachel Willis

Documentarians Carl Dean and Tia Lessin open their riveting documentary, Steal This Story, Please! with P. Wells Griffith III running from Amy Goodman’s pointed questions about the Trump administration’s position on climate change. She is dogged and unforgiving in her pursuit of Griffith as he flees.

Amy Goodman is the storied host of Democracy Now! and it’s wonderful to see focus turned to her intrepid 30-year career.

For those unfamiliar with Goodman or Democracy Now!, a quick series of on-screen text brings the viewer up-to-speed on why Goodman and her show are so unique in the current media landscape.

Beginning with Goodman’s desire to work for the Phil Donahue show, Steal This Story, Please! recounts Goodman’s work in independent journalism. The film artfully moves from the professional to the personal, past and present, as it dives deep into Goodman’s approach to reporting.

The film highlights how important independent news reporting is, especially as governments not only demonize the free press, but allow conglomerates to buy up media outlets en masse. Goodman’s work at the forefront of independent journalism was as important when she started as it is now.

Covering the myriad stories Goodman has done shows how relevant and important her work has been in tackling injustice around the world. While some of her reports maybe have faded from collective memory, this documentary serves as a reminder of how much journalism influences the public to demand change.

Dogged reporting moves the needle. Good journalism strengthens and saves democracies. We need journalists like Amy Goodman now more than ever if we’re going to strengthen and support not only American democracy, but democracy worldwide. Let’s hope Goodman’s work, along with this documentary, will inspire a new generation of independent, relentless journalists.

Last Podcast Standing

Didn’t Die

by Rachel Willis

For her 100th podcast episode, Vinita (Kiran Deol) is hosting a live broadcast. Only warm bodies allowed – no biters! Director Meera Menon, co-writing with Paul Gleason, brings her own vision to life during a zombie apocalypse in Didn’t Die.

The people of this world have been surviving among zombies for some time. So, rather than bearing witness to the beginning of an outbreak of flesh-hungry undead, we get to occupy a world that’s more “been there, done that.”

Of course, every aspect of the zombie genre has been mined countless times in various mediums, so this take isn’t exactly new, either. However, Menon offers something a bit different in just how dull the apocalypse turns out to be.

There are several interesting elements at play. Zombies, known as biters, tend to lie dormant during the day. That leaves them vulnerable, but not everyone is comfortable killing them. One woman laments that her beloved dogs were bitten and had to be killed. These aspects create a lived-in world that helps ground the characters.

However, Menon struggles with the film’s tone, and Vinita never feels like a fully realized character. It’s clear that the intention is to paint Vinita as someone closed off from those around her; the way in which it is done, however, doesn’t allow for a connection with the audience.

For this reason, the movie lacks emotional depth. Though the second half picks up in intensity, without a connection to characters, the tension never quite leaves you on the edge of your seat.

The filmmakers are clearly doing what they can to create something different with Didn’t Die. They just don’t quite get there.

War Toys

Fuze

by Rachel Willis

An unexploded bomb from World War II is discovered at a construction site in the heart of London and a massive effort to diffuse it gets underway in writer/director Ben Hopkin’s film Fuze.

As wild as it sounds, 80-year-old bombs exploding in populated cities in England is not unheard of. A bomb discovered in Exeter in 2021 resulted in the evacuation of 2,600 homes and caused massive property damage.

However, the bomb uncovered in Fuze seems out of the ordinary, and to say anything more would remove the elements of suspense and surprise Hopkins works into every minute.

The best thing about the movie is the unrelenting pace. It never gives you time to second guess some of what’s happening on screen. While some moments might falter under the weight of skepticism, Fuze keeps you hooked by the action. There’s something bigger at play, and the film demands you stay focused as it unfolds.

The cast is more than game for the material. Aaron Taylor-Johnson and Theo James play opposite sides of the action. The film moves from one to the other, tension continuing to build as you’re kept on edge, waiting for the next link in the overarching chain.

The downside, though, is that the film doesn’t offer anything in the way of character development. We get little bits and pieces through dialogue, but it’s not enough for us to feel invested in any character. The stakes aren’t high enough, which is a major blunder. The overfocus on plot makes for a tense thriller but not a very interesting one.

Bullet the Blue Sky

Ballistic

by Rachel Willis

A mother’s grief turns into a vengeful obsession in writer/director Chad Faust’s film Ballistic. After Nance Redfield (Lena Headey) learns of her son Jesse’s (Jordan Kronis) death in Afghanistan, she becomes obsessed with the idea that a bullet from the factory where she works was the cause.

Headey is a hell of an actress, and she does her damn finest to sell us on a mother’s grieving rage. Nance’s desire for vengeance unhinges her as she seeks someone to blame.

Unfortunately, despite Headey’s best efforts, she’s working with a character that’s never fully developed. We never fully feel Nance’s love for her son. Our introduction to their relationship is shown to us through a montage and a single video call. It’s not enough to flesh out either character.

It’s also hard to feel any sympathy for Nance despite her loss. Her anger leads her to target anyone she deems in any way responsible for Jesse’s death. It’s a broad metaphor for the ways in which anyone involved in munitions manufacturing is responsible for every death. It’s an idea that would make for an interesting documentary, but it doesn’t make much sense here. It’s too far-reaching and leaves you reflecting more on Nance’s state of mind than any broader commentary.

There are also several choices the character makes that defy logic. It’s hard to believe some of her actions in her quest for revenge. But again, a lot of this disbelief lies in the fact that we don’t really know Nance. If the film had taken more time in allowing us to know her, we would be more invested in following her wherever she leads. As it is, we’re left with a film with a muddy message, one powerful performance, and not much else.

Generational Drama

Jimpa

by Rachel Willis

Director Sohpie Hyde’s film, Jimpa, opens with a narrative that lays the groundwork for a family drama about what acceptance truly means.

Jimpa (John Lithgow) is an older gay man who left his family in Adelaide, Australia to move to Amsterdam during the height of the AIDS epidemic. There’s a recap of this history from two perspectives, Jimpa’s daughter, Hannah (Olivia Colman), and his nonbinary grandchild, Frances (Aud Mason-Hyde).

The film centers around Hannah and Frances spending time with Jimpa, as Hannah looks to make a film about her parents and their conflict-free partnership when Jimpa came out as gay.  

Colman and Hyde make it clear that Hannah is afraid of conflict, so much so, she rushes to mitigate everyone’s words. Her explanations for others may sound good, but in her urgency to avoid conflict, she steals their agency. And yet, there are times when Hannah fails to step in when it could most help her teenager.

Jimpa is disrespectful of Frances’s choice to identify themselves as non-binary. He introduces them as his “grandthing” and mocks their “sudden” lack of gender. Though grandthing is said with a certain amount of affection, it’s painful to watch because Frances looks up to their grandfather as a hero.

There’s also a collision of age. The older gay men have trouble understanding the younger generation’s motivations and language, fail to recognize the struggles of feeling like an outsider when things are (in their minds) so much better now.

Jimpa feels more like a lesson in gender and sexual politics than a cohesive narrative film. This can be done gracefully, but Hyde’s approach is too heavy handed.

Jimpa‘s second half takes an unexpected path that serves the film well. Hannah confronts and addresses her true feelings, allowing Coleman and Mason-Hyde to shine. Hyde finally gives Mason-Hyde the opportunity to be more than their gender identity.

Though the film’s opening act is defined by a kind of clunkiness, Jimpa’s final moments are handled with enough tenderness to make up for a lot of that.

Reliving History

Two Prosecutors

by Rachel Willis

For anyone who has forgotten their history of Soviet Russia under Stalin, director Sergey Loznitsa is happy to remind us with his latest, Two Prosecutors.

In a provincial prison, political prisoner Stepniak (Aleksandr Flippenko) is ordered to burn hundreds of letters. We get snippets of these letters, addressed to Stalin, pleading for intervention in Stepniak’s case. He pleads his innocence and claims his confession was a result of torture.

Despite the letter burning, one of these damning letters finds its way into the hands of Kornyev (Alexander Kuznetsov), a young, idealist prosecutor.

What unfolds is a slow, but very intense look into the corruption and chaos that helped to define Stalin’s reign of terror.

And while Loznitsa’s film is set in the past, its themes are applicable to present-day Russia (as well as any other country in which oppression and authoritarianism rule the day). There is an inherent paranoia that underscores all of Kornyev’s interactions. Throughout the entire film, only his one-on-one meeting with Stepniak feels authentic.

One of the most unsettling scenes is carried out in near silence, as several prison guards attempt to intimidate the steely Kornyev. But this is not the last time the film will leave the audience squirming, unsure if the mistrust imbued throughout the film is warranted.

This is not a film that offers a new take on what it means to live under the iron fist of a ruthless dictator, but it is nonetheless effective in what it does give the audience. Kornev’s idealism is hard not to appreciate, even while it feels tremendously futile.

It’s also a stark reminder of what happens when we don’t just forget the past but idealize it.