Tag Archives: Ryan Phillippe

Prey for Her

Saint Clare

by Adam Barney

Clare (Bella Thorne, The Babysitter) is a college student who believes she is on a mission from God. Blessed with visions, she hunts down the men who prey on the women in her small town. Detective Timmons (Ryan Phillippe, Cruel Intentions, MacGruber) grows suspicious of her extra-curricular activities as she keeps turning up in the wrong places.

Guided by the ghost of Mailman Bob (Frank Whaley, Pulp Fiction), the first man she inadvertently killed, Clare begins to connect the dots on who’s behind the growing number of local women who have gone missing. Bob is a messenger from the beyond and he seeks to keep Clare centered on her righteous path of vengeance.

Saint Clare is based on the YA novel Clare at Sixteen by Don Ruff. A quick search yields book reviews that frequently compare the Clare Bleecker series to Dexter, the popular show that is still churning out sequel and spin-off seasons. It’s easy to see why – Clare is a serial killer who only pursues other killers and she has conversations with a dead person from her past who acts as her conscious.

Thorne delivers a solid performance as the melancholy Clare, but the rest of the film around her is tonal mess. It really feels like a pilot episode with the season finale tacked on as the final fifteen minutes. There are a lot of story threads and elements, like a goofy school play, that are introduced but dumped quickly in favor of rushing toward the ending. The film is uninterested in exploring its own central mystery of the missing women, Clare is simply propelled to the wrong doers by convenience. 

Co-writer and director Mitzi Peirone (Braid) provides a few moments that visually pop as the world around Clare becomes more colorful and otherworldly, but they are too few and far in between.

Saint Clare never quite picks a lane. It’s a revenge tale without a strong motive, it’s a mystery that isn’t remotely interested in the investigation, and it’s a supernatural fable that is too grounded and serious for its own good.

Manor Manners

Lady of the Manor

by Hope Madden

Flatulence, Judy Greer and historical reenactments? I don’t think we see enough of these in independent film.

Neither do brothers Justin and Christian Long, presumably, because they have written and directed Lady of the Manor to encourage us to spend some time with all three. And since the flatulence is cinematic rather than aromatic, what’s the harm?

There is none. The film is, in a word, harmless.

Greer plays Civil War-era Lady Wadsworth. As the film opens, we see her behaving properly, sporting proper posture and manners, quarreling politely with her husband, and tumbling fatally down a flight of stairs.

The Longs intercut this scene with the audio from a true-crime program being viewed by modern-day ne’er-do-well Hannah (Melanie Lynskey). After a series of drug and alcohol-related shenanigans, the down-on-her-luck Hannah accepts a position as tour guide of Wadsworth Manor.

Hannah’s clear, almost criminal weaknesses in the areas of ladylikeness bring the ghost of Lady Wadsworth back to the manor to teach Hannah some etiquette. Or is there another reason for her spectral return?

The Longs plump up their very slight script with plenty of silliness. Justin portrays Hannah’s bashful history professor suitor Max, while Ryan Phillippe lampoons his early career roles with a funny entitled douchebag performance as Wadsworth heir, Tanner.

There’s also a fun Luis Guzmán cameo and a rare Patrick Duffy sighting.

But the film is at its best when Lynskey and Greer turn My Fair Lady into The Odd Couple. These veteran character actors riff off each other like old vaudeville partners, bringing joy to even the most superficial scenes.

There are plenty of those. Lady of the Manor often plays like an extended episode of Drunk History, only maybe not quite as funny. Everybody seems to be enjoying themselves, no one is challenged by the material, and an entirely pleasant if fairly predictable and only modestly funny time is had by all, viewers included.

Is That a Monkey Paw?

Wish Upon

by Hope Madden

Wish Upon is, basically, a Twilight Zone episode – or a Simpson’s episode. Just toss in a bit of The Craft, add a dash of Final Destination, just a touch of Hellraiser, all topped off with the slightest hint of A Nightmare on Elm St.

Wait, how can you get away with such derivative pap? Get it a PG-13 rating – no one under 20 has ever seen any of those things.

What they’ll see here is a cautionary tale about succumbing to your high school angst.

Clare (Joey King) is unpopular in that Hollywood sense – meaning she’s artistic, adorable and quirky, but the Barbie doll lookalikes and their gay friend inexplicably hate her. Her two besties (admirably played by Shannon Purser and Sydney Park) love her, though. Plus, she has an admirer in that cute skateboarder, Ryan (Ki Hong Lee – man is he saddled with some bad dialog).

But her dad (Ryan Phillippe) is a total embarrassment – even if he did find her this cool Chinese wishing pot. (This, PS, is the whitest movie about Chinese demons ever made.)

Luckily, director John R. Leonetti (Annabelle) has King to rely on. She’s likeable, generally believable, and she offers a compelling deterioration, post-wishing. (Because wishing + puzzle boxes + horror movies = bad idea.)

Leonetti, working from Barbara Marshall’s script, seems to be suggesting that you should just accept who you are, and that pining for something as superficial as popularity and wealth will literally kill you and everyone you love.

It’s not bad advice. Might be a little over-the-top.

Wish Upon is a bland if competently made screamer for the not-ready-for-R set. It’s a John Hughes movie with more carnage. It’s a Taylor Swift song with a body count.

It’s fine. Unless you like good movies.

Verdict-2-0-Stars