Tag Archives: Rachel Willis

Fatherhood of the Future

Daddy

by Rachel Willis

In a sterile conference room, a man speaks to a disembodied voice coming from a speaker. The voice is trying to determine if the man is the right kind of person to go on a government retreat that will decide if he would make a suitable father. If he’s not chosen, he will instead receive a vasectomy. So begins the dystopian comedy, Daddy.

Writers/directors Neal Kelley and Jono Sherman have crafted a new kind of hellscape with their look at toxic masculinity, the fear of vulnerability, and the competition that springs from the kind of scarcity that would lead a government to screen potential parents.

As four men arrive at the scenic mountain home, we’re given bits and pieces of the world that has given rise to such a scenario.  Mo (Pomme Koch) tells the others his girlfriend is at the female version of the retreat. The two decided to be screened at the same time. But while the men are housed in the lap of luxury, the women are apparently put through a more intense screening process. The subtle details that we pick up during the film’s run time make what we see on screen more interesting.

The men begin to descend into paranoia, leading to a certain amount of comedy as they try to decide what will make them seem like they’d be good fathers. The discovery of a realistic baby doll amps up the comedy.

Each actor brings a certain rigidity to their character that plays well with the idea that men have a hard time embracing their emotions. Scenes when the characters do display some vulnerability feel awkward – perfectly encapsulating how difficult some men find it to open up to other men.

When the film remembers that there is humor to be mined from such a situation, it shines. When it forgets, it becomes tedious.

However, it’s not hard to imagine this world, and Kelley and Sherman have fun wondering how men might react to the absurdity of it all.

I’ll Make Sandwiches

Relative Control

by Rachel Willis

Sara (Teri Polo) has her hands full. Her adult son is living on the other side of the country and is still dependent on her. Her aging parents are beginning to show signs of mental and physical decline. And she was just hired to handle the biggest case of her career as a corporate attorney.

How can one woman balance all of this? This is the focus of director Dafna Yachin’s film, Relative Control. Working from a script by Charlene Davis, Yachin understands how much of a family’s responsibilities fall to women, even when they have lives of their own to consider.

More and more, this scenario has become the reality for middle-aged Americans. Sara, a single woman with no partner to rely on for financial or emotional support, is lucky enough to have a high-powered job that allows her son to live off – rather than with – her as she juggles work and familial obligations.

There’s an exasperated humor that lies at the heart of the movie. As Sara interacts with her stubborn parents, her father especially, you can’t help but chuckle at the situation. It’s very relatable.

Sara’s age is a significant factor. For those with careers, this tends to be the time in life when the demands of work rise as one climbs the corporate ladder. As the sole child responsible for her parents, Sara’s worlds start to collide with more and more frequency. There are a lot of things an audience can relate to as we watch Sara struggle to maintain balance.

But not everything in Sara’s life is so easy to identify with. Most working adults don’t have the kind of career that affords a son to fly home from the other side of the country at seemingly every crisis.

The characters do help to keep the story familiar. They likely resemble members of your own family, and as we watch the family interact, it’s not hard to care about them.

Relative Control is not a perfect representation of the “sandwich generation”—the one still supporting adult children when the need to support their own parents comes around—but it resonates nonetheless.

Dream Scenario

Shudderbugs

by Rachel Willis

The ability to dream of things that happened or will happen is part of the family mythology that permeates writer/director (and star), Johanna Putnam’s film, Shudderbugs.

As we learn from Sam (Putnam), shudderbugs was what her mother, Eliza, called the eerie premonitions and feelings that allowed her to know when something was going to happen. After Eliza’s death, Sam begins having these same feelings as she explores what happened to her mom.

Grief, and the whys that surround death, are the main focus of Putnam’s quiet, contemplative film. We learn through a slow unfolding that Eliza’s death was unexpected. A visit with Sam for her birthday was big on Eliza’s mind, as we see reminders throughout the house of the expected visit.

The first inkling that something isn’t quite right occurs when Sam can’t find her mother’s dog. Then, the neighbor acts very strangely. The results from her mother’s autopsy require further tests. Sam’s suspicions grow as she uncovers new pieces of information while spending several days in her mother’s rural house.

The setting of Putnam’s film, upstate New York, speaks to tranquility. The gorgeous surroundings make it hard to feel that something is amiss, but there are moments that unnerve: sounds from inside the creaky old house, dolls set up in cribs and highchairs around the garage attic, and the neighbor who is wonderfully “off.” It’s hard not to be sucked in to the mystery, especially as Sam starts to experience her own shudderbugs.

The film starts off very strong, but it never quite pulls off the sense of dread that’s expected with such unusual circumstance. Sam carries the vast majority of the film. Unfortunately, Putnam’s talents are far better behind the camera. Her acting is fine, but not the caliber needed for such a quiet character study.

However, for all the weaknesses, the film’s strengths are far more engaging. The writing is exceptional, and the unsettling questions that surround an unexpected death lend themselves well to the film. While there are some moments that stumble, the overall experience is worth the time.

We Infected a Zoo

Night of the Zoopocalypse

by Rachel Willis

Young wolf Gracie (Gabbi Kosmidis) is put to the test in directors Ricardo Curtis and Rodrigo Perez-Castro’s Night of the Zoopocalypse.

Gracie’s elder pack leader is insistent that something bad is coming, making the pack run drills and practice maneuvers in preparation. But Gracie is skeptical that anything will ever happen at their zoo. Of course, she quickly learns better once an asteroid crashes nearby.

Thrown together with a mountain lion (David Harbour), an ostrich, and a wily lemur with knowledge of late-night horror movie tropes, Gracie must figure out how to defeat the sudden threat.

The animation is not especially creative, but some creepy creatures help liven things up. Some of the monsters may be a bit scary for young viewers, but older kids might be delighted to see fluffy bunnies turn into sharp-toothed, voracious beasts.

The action kicks off quickly, making it tough to catch the names of all the animals who help Gracie, but also helping to move the film forward.

The ancillary characters tend to be the most interesting and the funniest parts of the film. Because the rapport between Gracie and Dan takes a while to manifest, when the focus shifts to them, the film is less fun.

Night of the Zoopocalypse references classic and contemporary horror, from The Thing to Stranger Things, and while kids might not catch every Easter egg, adults enjoy trying to identify the various influences.

But it’s not quite enough to make the film worth the 90 minute investment. With so many excellent animated films these days, Night of the Zoopocalypse is easy to overlook.

Success Is No Accident

Trigger Happy

by Rachel Willis

Unhappy George (Tyler Poelle) has a plan. Miserable at work, miserable at home, George needs a change. His chosen method for changing his life becomes a madcap adventure of sorts in director Tiffany Kim Stevens’s film, Trigger Happy.

Since misery loves company, George isn’t alone in his dissatisfaction. George’s wife, aspiring actor Annie (Elsha Kim), is as annoyed with George as he is with her. Several others express their frustrations and despairs in various ways as well.

Thankfully, Stevens isn’t interested in making us miserable. Rather than wallow with unhappy characters, we watch as George, Annie, and their friends find ways to improve their circumstances through torrid affairs, spouse murder fantasies, and hilarious professional accomplishments.

Of course, because none of the characters are honest with each other, or even themselves, misunderstandings abound. What could almost be described as comedic hijinks occur, except they’re a little too bloody to be truly called hijinks.

Stevens, co-writing with Daniel Moya, pens dialog with a strange, melodic poetry that gives it a musical quality, adding a level of surrealism to the film. George’s increasing frustrations play well with this quality.

Adding to Trigger Happy‘s uncanniness is the slyly revealed reality of George’s world, which isn’t quite the same as ours. It’s not obvious at first, but as the film progresses, more hints are dropped. And as the title of the movie suggests, guns abound (not so different from our world in that way).

Each person in George’s world is compelling in their own unique way. Though some play a bigger part in George’s misery than others, none of the ancillary characters feel unnecessary. From his coworkers to his boss, to the friendly shop owner, each person has a place in George’s orbit.

Still, it’s Annie, as both his antagonist and his wife, who has the most commanding presence in George’s life. It’s easy to love and loathe both characters.

Trigger Happy is, overall, a winning parody about the miseries of everyday living.

Driver’s Seat

Something Is About to Happen

by Rachel Willis

After losing her job as IT support staff for a dental supplies company, Lucía (Malena Alterio) seeks employment as a taxi driver in Antonio Méndez Esparza’s Something is About to Happen.

I’ll admit I was immediately intrigued by the opening credits. The black text on red background and the string-heavy score sets a compelling tone for the film.

Following the energetic opening, things slow down a bit. We follow Lucía through several day-to-day tasks, including supporting her elderly father. But a fleeting conversation with a taxi driver sets Lucía on a new path.

And what could very easily be a mundane venture into new territory for Lucía is anything but. It sometimes starts to feel a little like Taxicab Confessions, but rather than something tawdry and banal, instead we watch a woman opening herself to a new world in exciting, curious, sometimes dangerous ways.

The film’s naturalism helps ground it as sinister elements weave their way into the fabric of Lucía’s life. There’s a haunting melancholy underneath Lucía seemingly boundless enthusiasm. As her façade slips, we can’t help but watch in fascinated horror.

There are some scenes that are a bit too long, but on the whole, each one compliments the next as we follow our hero as she navigates life, love, and loss in the driver’s seat of her taxi. More often than not, we’re given new information with each scene, learning more and more about Lucía and what makes her tick.

Crows populate the film, sometimes in unexpected ways. The birds have often been used as symbolism, and it’s not too difficult to tease out what they represent to Lucía and the film overall. Their appearance in the film, however, fluctuates between non-existent or heavy-handed. It’s a bit much when they could have been utilized in subtler ways. It’s hard to anticipate what might come next for Lucía, which makes the film and enjoyable watch even as it meanders off course from time to time.

Nothing to See Here

Like Father, Like Son

by Rachel Willis

After witnessing his father (Dermot Mulroney) commit an act of extreme violence, Eli (Dylan Flashner) confronts the idea he might be capable of similar brutality in writer/director Barry Jay’s film, Like Father, Like Son.

Eli’s rage is apparent early on. But initially, a lot of it seems to come in response to bad situations. A boss who denigrates his employees on a regular basis. A repossessed car. A stolen wallet. A father in prison who taunts Eli when he comes to visit. However, the outsized reactions speak to something damaged within Eli.

Shaky camera movements and quick cuts to past memories intersect with moments when Eli comes close to losing it. It’s a distracting feature that suggests Flashner is unable to convey inner turmoil on his own.

The movie’s biggest issue, however, is the lack of depth given to any of the characters. All we really know about Eli’s father is his penchant for violence. All we know about Eli is his penchant for violence. It’s impossible to sympathize with Eli as he struggles with his “inherent” cruelty. The ancillary characters that orbit Eli’s world aren’t given anything much to do either.

Dialogue would make it seem like Eli struggles with his violent nature, but the actions of the film do not communicate this. If anything, he seems to enjoy his aberrant nature. We spend most of the film watching Eli embrace what appears to be his “true” self. While examining the ways in which violence begets violence can be interesting, Like Father, Like Son doesn’t have anything new to say on the subject.

Magic in the Air

Every Little Thing

by Rachel Willis

The life of Terry Masear and the lives of the hummingbirds she cares for are the subject of director Sally Aitken’s documentary, Every Little Thing.

Deep in the heart of Los Angeles, Aitken manages to capture a pastoral beauty in the area as she documents Terry’s efforts to rehabilitate injured hummingbirds. Many of the hummingbirds that come Terry’s way are nestlings who have lost their mothers. Others have suffered an injury of sorts, such as being hit by a car or attacked by another hummingbird.

As we watch Terry’s day-to-day routine – feeding, caring for, and even rehabilitating wing injuries – we get snippets of her past. She talks warmly and lovingly about her late husband and his support for her endeavors to help the birds.

However, there are moments throughout the documentary that speak to deeper trauma, and this is a tough documentary for the tender-hearted. Though Terry’s compassion for the birds comes through in the way she handles and speaks to them, she has a brusqueness that conveys all too well that not every bird brought to her is going to survive.

If you can tough out the harder, more devastating parts of the documentary, though, you’re rewarded with several wonderful moments. Slow-motion video of hummingbirds in flight show that even slowed down, their wings move with remarkable speed and agility. Flowers bloom on screen, showcasing the beauty the natural world has to offer.

And Terry’s empathy for these tiny, magical marvels of nature is a joy to behold. She addresses each bird by name and knows them all. There is something truly beautiful in what Terry does, and Aitken captures it all with warmth and sincerity. Almost as if to balance out the speed with which a hummingbird moves, the film asks the audience to slow down, to appreciate the world around us. Especially when our tiny heroes can disappear in the blink of an eye.

Third Time Charm

Sonic the Hedgehog 3

by Rachel Willis

There seems to be a trend in kids’ movies lately where sequels outshine their originals. That’s not always the case, of course, but it’s certainly true with director Jeff Fowler’s Sonic the Hedgehog 3.

The stakes continue to rise for Team Sonic – which includes the titular hedgehog (Ben Schwartz), Tails (Colleen O’Shaughnessey) and Knuckles (Idris Elba) – as another hedgehog, Shadow (Keanu Reeves), is awakened from a 50-year-long hibernation. Shadow has a mission to avenge his mistreatment at the hands of humans by teaming up with Ivo Robotnik’s grandfather, Professor Robotnik. Both Robotniks are played with panache by Jim Carrey.

As with the previous entries, a lot of the film’s focus rests on Carrey. His villainous turn is amusing, but it often feels like too many others are underutilized, such as James Marsden and Tika Sumpter who reprise their roles as Tom and Maddie. Several additional actors return from the previous two films but, aside from Agent Stone (Lee Majdoub), they’re not given much to do.

However, the animated characters are the real stars of the show.  Our new villain, Shadow, is given a certain amount of depth we haven’t seen in the previous two films. Though it’s not a very original backstory, Reeves brings a certain quality to his character that helps elicit audience sympathy.

Sonic, himself, continues to learn what it means to make good choices in life and continues to impart a strong moral message to kids without losing the good-natured humor with which Schwartz imbues in the character.

The story isn’t without flaws, but the fast-paced, entertaining moments make up for the weaker moments. The overall feeling you get from the film is fairly satisfying, and without giving anything away, there is a sense of closure with the conclusion.

But make sure to stick around through the end credits for a hint of what may be in store for Team Sonic in the future.

Sister’s Keeper

Scrap

by Rachel Willis

Writer/director (and star) Vivian Kerr’s film, Scrap, opens on a woman (Kerr) sleeping in her car. When a passing jogger asks if she needs help, she quickly makes her way to another location. It’s clear our protagonist, Beth, is living in her vehicle. 

Problems continue to pile up on Beth as she struggles to navigate this existence. She is also desperate to keep this tenuous situation from her brother, Ben (Anthony Rapp), in whose house she’s just crashed with her daughter, Birdy (Julianna Layne).

Because life is never simple, Ben has his own issues. However, in light of Beth’s situation, these don’t seem particularly compelling. His career as a writer isn’t going the direction he wants, and he and his wife, Stacy (Lana Parrilla) are struggling to have children of their own. The first problem feels like someone living the dream whining that the dream isn’t dreamy enough. The second problem elicits a lot more sympathy.

Of course, the strength of the film rests on both the stellar performances of Kerr and Rapp, and their amazing chemistry as a brother and sister struggling to understand each other. Stacy adds another dimension to the family drama, as she has so much less patience for Beth’s flakiness than Ben. And since neither Ben nor Stacy really understand what’s going on with Beth, Stacy’s lack of sympathy rings true.

There are additional pieces that come into play over the course of the film building a rich backstory.

Kerr does an excellent job addressing the questions that might arise while watching the film. It’s also easy for people to sit from a place of comfort and wonder why another might be so reluctant to share that their life is falling apart. Why they might make choices that seem counterproductive to moving forward.

The film’s biggest issue is that it, like Beth, too often treats Birdy as an afterthought. While it works for the character, it doesn’t work as well for the film. Birdy deserves a bigger place in the narrative, as she is as much affected by the situation as anyone. Because the film is otherwise so well-crafted, this only makes Birdy’s lack of depth stand out more.

But it’s hard to fault the film too much since Kerr paints such a touching portrait of a woman struggling to make it in a world that treats so many like her with such disdain.