MARVEL-LESS MARVISTA: A Student's Obsession (aka Dangerous Lessons) (2015)

Director: Jacobo Rispa, Damian Romay
Writer(s): Romay, and Blaine Chiapetta
Starring: Louise Lombard, Alex Esola, Ella Wahlestedt, and JoMarie Payton

Here we go again with one of MarVista’s favorite subjects: Obsession. They seem to dwell on it a lot, essentially using it as a “paint by numbers” style template for their movies: Just change the names, sexes, ages, and professions of the characters, and voila! Instant obsession movie!

This one, though, gives us not one, but two obsessions! Think of it as a BOGO deal that no one ever asked for. Stephanie is a married, middle-aged high school teacher who instantly becomes the focus of new student James. On a field trip to the Florida Keys (what kind of budget does this school have?!) Stephanie gets caught up in a moment of weakness and kisses him, something which she instantly regrets, despite the cold detachment of her worthless workaholic husband back home.

Despite her best intentions (and suggestion from her best friend, played by JoMarie Payton from Family Matters!) to sweep it under the rug and move on, James seems to take the kiss as an open invitation to go all psycho on her, stalking her and stopping at nothing to make him the object of her affection. Muddying the waters further is the creepy, disgusting old science teacher Richard, who also desperately wants her to be his, making one cringeworthy and ill-advised show of affection after another. Because, you know, he's old, and therefore a creep.

And that’s where the movie attempts to offer some intrigue and suspense as the two storylines bleed into one another. Who’s the one that sent her poisonous flowers? Which one of them are taking pictures of her through her window at home? And what’s the identity of the young boy her teenaged daughter has taken a liking to? Or most importantly, how come their expensive house doesn’t have a damn driveway? (Seriously, they park their cars in the grass on the front lawn).

As it all gets sorted out, of course we learn that the good-looking child has mommy troubles, and lives in a trailer outside of an abandoned home, and that the man who the daughter has fallen for (and who the mother invites to dinner) turns out to be James, who’s just using her to get to her mother. But the daughter not only can't decipher that, but also can't decipher her own mother's intense discomfort upon seeing James, lashing out in naive fury when Stephanie throws him out of the house and tells him never to come back again, and chalking it up as just a case of overprotective mom syndrome. Uh, no sweetheart, it's for her safety just as much as yours, something you'll learn the hard way later on.

Unfortunately, Stephanie—who’s completely comfortable with having a talk with her daughter when she says she’s ready to lose her virginity—apparently doesn’t feel the same way about talking to her daughter about vicious psychos: Rather than spell everything out for her daughter, and admit that he’s the one stalking her, she skirts around the issue, making vague comments about how he’s not who he says he is, which sound like broad, generalized accusations that only fuel the daughter's hatred even more. And of course, the daughter doesn’t believe her mom until she’s loosely tied up (there must not have been enough money in the budget for actual rope) and held at weaponpoint by James, who, as it is clear by this point, is a psychopath.

You can always count on the obligatory “twist” ending, usually involving a cliffhanger hint that the killer isn't actually dead, but in the one example of a cliche the writers must have missed, we don't get that here. While I was initially happy to see that, I have to say that, now that I've experienced it, I can say with 100% certainty that a “happy” MarVista ending is somehow even worse than the predictable cliffhanger, as this one proves, by featuring a forced scene where the entire family –who were all on the brink of disaster just a few short months ago—all share a wonderful meal full of laughter and smiles together, as if it serves as proof that all of the traumatic wounds have fully healed. Sorry, but I just don't buy that Stephanie's husband can't not be a tool, so this scene rings hollow for me. Although, to be fair, so did everything else.

This has some entertaining moments of unintentional hilarity—most of which involve poor Richard's embarrassing attempts to woo Stephanie--but despite the “double obsession!” shakeup, it still manages to be below average on the whole.

RATING: 4/10

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MARVEL-LESS MARVISTA: Caught (2015)

Director: Maggie Kiley
Writer(s): Marcy Holland
Starring: Anna Camp, Stefanie Scott, Sam Page, and Amelia Rose Blaire

I hated almost every single minute of Caught, a movie that seems to pride itself on gleefully missing the mark in every way imaginable. It’s as if the makers of this dreck took notes on how to make the perfect movie, and then reversed every single bit of advice; it’s not just a bad movie, it’s an infuriating one. It’s the kind that inspires new generations of filmmakers, by providing an example of how godawful a movie can be, yet still see wide release.

Amazingly, Caught’s problems don’t start with the plot, which could actually have been put to greater use in the hands of a more talented bunch: Sabrina (Anna Camp) discovers her husband, Justin, is having an affair with a high schooler (who’s eighteen, of course), and kidnaps said high schooler, keeping her tied and bound to a chair in the attic. Her plan is merely to keep her there for a day or two while her husband is away on business, scare some sense into her, torture her psychologically, and then let her go.

But things don’t always go according to plan.

As it turns out, of all times, Justin’s out-of-town business meeting was canceled, so he unexpectedly returns home to spend some quality time with his wife, and her sister, Paige. What he doesn’t know is that his teenage mistress is bound and gagged upstairs, and what started off as a simple prank will become a desperate fight for survival for everyone involved.

Doesn’t sound too shabby, does it? Unfortunately, it’s very, very shabby, playing its cards far too early, and far too often to offer any sort of tension. For example, Paige clearly regrets her role in the “prank” even when it’s still just a (fairly) innocuous joke—it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what’s going to happen when things quickly spiral out of control.

The mistress Allie, offers up no personality at all, besides looking sad and crying all the time; we’re merely supposed to cheer for her simply because she’s the damsel in distress. But the one flaw with that logic—and something the movie never really seems to take into account--is that she is far from an innocent victim being put in a situation outside of her control: she’s sleeping with a married man. And-- to my surprise, I must admit—no evidence is ever presented suggesting that she wasn’t aware he was married, nullifying that potential bit of admonishing information. In other words, she's just as guilty as everyone else.

I can't believe I'm saying this, but the lone thing Caught has going for it is Anna Camp: arguably the least entertaining character in the Pitch Perfect series, she’s the only thing worth even the remotest of damns here, playing her role with an over-the-top zest that signals she's in on a joke that no one else realizes is being told. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: when your movie forces people to cheer for the bad guy, that's not a good thing; when the supposed “heroine” is as bland as Allie is here, it’s even worse: I wanted her killed 30 minutes into the movie, a feeling that only grew and grew as time went on.

So boring is her character that, after suffering a leg injury, she spends the entire second half of the movie limping, crawling, and falling all over the place at a snail’s clip, treating each life-or-death scenario as a game of hide-and-seek with friends. Most people with a leg injury, who hear that they are going to be buried alive, would probably get a little pep in their step through adrenaline; not Allie, who struggles to get out of a bathtub and manages to crawl about three feet in an hour’s time. Dear Lord, girl: if you don’t have an intense desire to live, then why should anyone else want you to?

Sure, there are twists and turns, and near escapes, and near deaths, and a stupid mom who randomly saves the day, and all the other non-thrills required of thrillers, but it's all executed with the sincerity of a cast and crew who would rather be somewhere else.

A feeling that's contagious for the viewer.

STRAY OBSERVATIONS (POSSIBLE SPOILERS AHEAD)

• How the hell does the husband know that the pregnancy test isn’t his wife’s? Sure, conception wasn’t supposed to be possible, but he seems to believe her when she tells him; yet after finding the positive test in her own dresser drawer, he automatically thinks she’s lying?
• Um…so this dumb kid is kidnapped and the first person she thinks to call isn’t her mother, or the police…but her 40-year-old boyfriend?
• Haha, this one delivers a twist in the whole “no cell phone service” trope by having a phone drop a signal in mid-call.
• So let me get this straight: Allie’s mom finds three possible houses with names that match the married man’s name, and somehow knows for a fact that the one on fire is the one her daughter’s in? Christ Jesus.
• Also, I hate that piece of shit mom. What kind of mother makes her 18 year old daughter work 7 days straight in a shitty restaurant just to pay the restaurant’s bills? It’s not her fault your restaurant sucks.
• Good to know the easiest way to wake someone up who has passed out from smoke inhalation is to just scream their name.
• If you’re looking for someone who’s hiding in an attic, a good method is to take a step into the attic, and then spin around in place once or twice. If you don’t see them, they’re not there.
• CLASSI C TROPE ALERT! Anna throws someone down a flight of stairs to kill them. This is probably the #1 cause of death in Lifetime movies, despite probably not even placing in the top 100 in real life.

ENTERTAINMENT RATING: 2/10

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MARVEL-LESS MARVISTA: Fatal Flip (aka The Fixer Upper) (2015)

Director: Maureen Bharoocha
Writer(s): Bharoocha, and Ellen Huggins
Starring: Mike Faiola, Dominique Swain, Michael Steger, and Tatyana Ali

We all have our favorite Hollywood crushes. For most people, it’s the hugely popular Goslings’ or Gadots’ of the world, if for no other reason than their wide reach and massive exposure. Would you believe it if I told you that one of my earliest crushes as a teen was none other than Dominique Swain, star of Adrian Lyne’s adaptation of Lolita, from the novel by Vladimir Nabokov?

Swain, as the jailbait femme fatale, enraptured me in her role, to where I couldn’t take my eyes off of her; she was beautiful (which I can say without being creepy because I was thirteen when the movie came out, though I didn’t see it until a couple of years later), and although she was just 14 years old at the time of filming, managed to share the screen with Jeremy Irons without being overpowered by him. That's a feat in and of itself.

I can see almost everyone scratching their heads right now: not necessarily because they're wondering how in the world I could think she's cute, but simply out of complete ignorance as to who she is. And I can't fault you for that, because, unfortunately, the controversy of that movie—and, more specifically, her role—seems to have been a curse, a death blow to a once-promising career that has since been diminished to a neverending series of thankless roles in countless B-movies (hey, work is work, right?) She’s exactly the type of actress for which MarVista roles were made, so it should come as no surprise that she ended up in one called Fatal Flip. And having stumbled upon that information, it should come as no surprise that I watched it.

In it, Swain plays Alex, a woman who buys a rundown home, along with her boyfriend Jeff, in the hopes of fixing it up to sell for a huge profit. The couple are hugely confident that their investment—which has tied up all of their available money—will reap big rewards, but the gravity of their situation quickly settles in: although Jeff is a knowledgeable handyman, he doesn’t know enough about plumbing or electrical work to finish the project himself. And there's a pretty strict deadline from purchase to sale before the interest kicks in on their credit cards and threatens to rob them of any profit at all: 45 days.

With no money available to pay anyone, they happen to meet Nate, a man who offers his services for free, in exchange for a place to stay. You know the age-old saying “If it’s too good to be true, it probably is?” Well, that would definitely hold true for someone who offers to do countless hours of grueling labor in exchange for virtually nothing. As it turns out (and this is not a spoiler as it’s alluded to in the opening scene), Nate goes around offering his services to couples in need, and then…seduces the women, or something? And then kills them, or the guys, or...I guess I’m not really sure what his MO is, honestly, but either way, all you need to know is that he’s not a good guy.

Things take a turn for the worse when Jeff is injured falling from a roof (an act of sabotage by Nate that, refreshingly, goes uninvestigated). Unable to help the two physically, he also seems unable to help the two mentally, as Alex and Nate make quite a few decisions about the appearance of the house without even consulting with the poor guy locked away in his room.

Aside from Alex, Jeff, and Nate, the other main character is Roslyn (played by another childhood crush of mine: Tatyana Ali, who played Ashley in “Fresh Prince”), Alex’s good friend who’s also smitten with Nate. This leads to a weird jealousy triangle where the writer doesn’t entirely seem to sure on where to take it: one moment, Alex is vying for Nate’s attention, then when she gets it, she acts offended that he would look at a taken woman like that; she seems creeped out by him, yet still puts herself in positions where they’re alone, and even has a one-on-one dinner with him. Um...does she not realize she's clearly leading the poor guy on, whether she thinks she is or not?

Roslyn's “competition” with Alex to be the object of Nate's desires is another source of inconsistencies: what starts off as a playful, innocuous “battle” between the two for Nate's attention eventually leads to the dreaded “180-degree character change” trope that we see too often in these movies, where Roslyn is so consumed by her lust for Nate that she flaunts it around as atonement for the college years, when Alex was popular and got all the guys. Poor Ros meets her end the way she lived—stupidly--when she goes snooping around Nate's room after spending the night with him, and sees some things she shouldn't.

Can I break off for a second here: Why do characters always snoop around in these movies, even when there's no reason for them to? Here, there isn't even an inkling that he's a psychopath until close to the end, meaning Ros is literally just looking through his stuff because she's a nosey little bitch. What could she possibly be hoping to find in this instance that would lead her to look at all? A secret journal where he professes his love for her and mentions his intent to marry her? I just fail to see any logic in this whatsoever, save for the required advancement of the plot through her murder.

Truthfully, outside of the minor characters and amateurish writing, Fatal Flip actually isn't all that terrible. It's bad, but at least competent in ways that can overcome some of its obvious shortcomings: Dominique Swain, for all the low-budget junk on her resume (Sharkansas Women's Prison Massacre, for God's sake?!) is actually an accomplished actress who can rise to, or above, the level of the material she is working with. Here, she gives a capable performance, thanks in large part to her ability to convey emotions through facial expressions, without looking entirely stupid. Michael Steger as Jeff (who my wife recognized from his role in the remake of “Beverly Hills: 90210”) is also above-average, though he's largely relegated to a secondary character by the halfway mark.

But this is a Lifetime production, and at some point it's inevitable that all of the movie's weaknesses (like, almost everything else) eventually become too great for anything to overcome. In fact, looking back, it's almost as if the decent acting is actually more of a negative, firmly entrenching the movie in the uncomfortable netherworld between “merely bad” and “bad but entertaining”: With a less experienced (or dedicated) cast, this one could have been more enjoyable in that familiar “campy cheese” kind of way these movies often excel in. Instead, there's just enough competence within the production that it's just flat-out boring and uninspired, rather than laugh out loud terrible; the difference is that one of those is at least entertaining, and the other isn't really worth your time at all.

STRAY OBSERVATIONS

• In what may actually qualify as “brilliant”, no one even notices that Ros is dead. (Jeff mentions not seeing her in a while and suggests Alex call her soon, but her body is never found onscreen.) While it might sound silly, it's actually pretty believable given the tight timeframe this movie takes place within.
• Why does Michael Steger's face look like he's wearing a mask of himself over top of his actual face? There's just something off about it, like it's stretched out or something, especially after my wife's adamant insistence that he is good looking in other roles. We'll blame it on his stupid hairstyle.
• Why do psychopathic characters always have to make things blatantly obvious? Case in point: Nate, who constantly makes his true intentions known by intently staring at Alex for uncomfortably long periods of time.
• I mentioned it already, but Alex's flip-flopping is anger-inducing: one moment she smiles as he intensely stares her down, then the next time she's grossed out: repeat that cycle about a dozen times.
• Honestly, there's the structure of a good movie in here somewhere.

RATING: 4/10

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CHRISTMAS CAPSULES: How Sarah Got Her Wings (2015)

The biggest problem with How Sarah Got Her Wings, besides the thrown-together and half-realized premise, is that it tries to do way too many things within a short amount of time. Here we have a movie about a goody two shoes who is killed trying to rescue a homeless man's dog, but finds that she isn't on the list to get into heaven. So she is sent back to Earth, as a ghost, to make things right with Jordan, a man whose heart she broke one Christmas Eve. And, of course, she has a limited amount of time before she is forced to spend her eternity in the middle ground between Heaven and Hell—a waiting room.

This one at least perfectly captures the lighthearted mood of a good holiday romance, though calling it a “romance” film feels surprisingly wrong. It almost functions as an anti-thesis to the typical Hallmark-style love story; those that enjoy watching these movies to see the two leads finally get together after spending the whole movie oblivious to each others feelings may be disappointed—as it turns out (SPOILER ALERT) her job isn't to get back together with her ex, but rather to make sure he stays with the woman that he fell in love with after the break-up: Amanda, a charming black woman with an equally-charming English accent and a ten-year-old son.

One thing I have to give it, is that it's actually unpredictable, at least as far as these movies are concerned. While the ending is alluded to in the beginning, it never makes sense until the rushed, unearned finale, and the “terms” of her time on Earth keep changing (at first, only her ex can see her; the second time, only the woman can see her; the third time...let's just say it gets even more ridiculous). It loses some points by constantly giving Sarah loopholes and time extensions that, even for its already-extreme premise, feel like complete copouts (“Oh, you failed and time has passed...well, we don't normally do this, but here, have some extra time to figure this out”), while the bonding sequences between Jordan and Amanda's son are pitch-perfectly awful and awkward.

This could have been an anger-inducing, unwatchable mess, but credit must be given to the actors, who bring the material up to a grade higher than it deserves to be. The cast is all-around good looking, with Sarah nailing the “innocent and cute, but not too cute” requirement, while her ex also hits the requirement of being “too good-looking for the innocent girl” (seriously, why are the guys so much better looking in these?), though in this case, it's forgiven as technically they are not the ones getting together.

If you can take—or better yet, are desperately looking—for a movie that breaks with the tired and true holiday romance formula, How Sarah Got Her Wings at least provides enough charm to keep your mind off the convoluted plot and logical inconsistencies (when she's a ghost that no one can see, how come no one notices the things she's carrying floating around in mid-air?) to see you through to the finish line. And, let's be honest here, sometimes just making it to the end is the highest honor you can bestow this type of movie.

RATING: 6/10

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The Lure (2015)

Director: Agnieszka Smoczynska
Writer(s): Robert Bolesto
Starring: Marta Mazurek, Michalina Olszanska, Kinga Preis, and Andrzej Konopka

“Silver” and “Gold” are two attractive sister mermaids who survive by luring men into the waters with their beautiful singing voices, then killing and eating them. Actually, the “technical” term for such a creature is a siren; these mystical beings have existed in literature for probably about as long as bodies of water have existed in nature. But Agnieszka Smoczynska's The Lure isn't focused so much on the killings as it is focused on...dance music? Well, in case you weren't already aware, this sentence alone should give you enough clues to deduce that this is not an American film. And it's all the better for it.

When the film opens, Silver and Gold are about to kill the two male members of a musical group, when the piercing scream from the lone female member prevents them from following through. Curiously, the family decides to “adopt” the mermaids, bringing them to the Warsaw nightclub where they perform every night as the “Fig and Dates”. Their job is pretty simple: dance, sing, and strip to the music to entertain the clientele; for the big finish, they get into a big glass cup filled with water, their fish tails out for the whole world to see.

And that is one of the most refreshing aspects of The Lure: the girls' status as mermaids is never kept a secret. Oftentimes in films like this, the girls have to keep their true identity hidden, for fear of being “outed”; in this world, no one is frightened or disgusted by their mermaid appearance. In fact, all are quite thrilled by the sight of these two beautiful sea maidens. Also interesting is that there are no “villains” to speak of, no people who are determined to profit off their exploitation, or who are looking to harm them in any way; the girls are willing, eager participants in everything they do. Imagine that: female characters who are free to control themselves and their own destiny? What kind of world is this?

Instead, the movie is more focused on their relationships, both with each other, but also with those in the new world around them. Gold is more interested in luring men to their doom, chewing out their throats before feasting on their hearts. Silver, on the other hand, is smitten with the bassist of the “Fig and Dates”, and wants to pursue a relationship with him. In an homage to The Little Mermaid, she is given the chance to trade in her tail for human legs, at the expense of losing her voice. Not to be outdone, The Lure takes this idea one step further: If he kisses her but marries another, she has until daybreak the following day to eat him, or else she will turn into sea foam...quite literally.

So this makes for an interesting web of side stories, many of which are never really expanded upon to their full potential. There's the relationship between Gold and Silver over their “creative differences”; Silver's relationship with the bassist, who seems to be as grossed out by her as he is fascinated; the mermaids' relationship with their “adoptive family”, especially as the body count starts to rise. Then there's the cop that seems to witness Gold murdering an innocent man, sings a song about it, and then is completely forgotten. Watching it, one gets the feeling that writer Robert Bolesto suffers from a severe case of ADD. But at the very least, you can call The Lure many things, but "boring" is not one of them.

The leads are both fantastic, but I must confess to being completely smitten with Michalina Olszanska as Gold. She is a beautiful actress on her own, but the seductive looks she gives men as she attempts to entangle them in her murderous web—let's just say it's not a stretch to believe that she could lure a man to his death. It will be interesting to see the trajectory of her career, because she has the looks, and the talent to become an international star. Marta Mazurek reminds one of a younger Nikki Cox, and has the perfect look of innocence that lends credibility to her turn as the one looking for love.

Smoczynska's film is soaked in bright colors and neon lighting, and there's a freewheeling attitude that permeates almost every frame. It is unafraid to take chances, and does so with often reckless abandon, which leads to some severe unevenness. It's never boring, but it's not always as fun as it seems to think it is. The musical numbers are mostly bland and unmemorable (though a couple, including an upbeat number during a punk show, are fantastic), and the kill scenes are both relatively rare and ungraphic; if you were sold on the movie because you thought the focus would be on the murders, then you would do best to completely avoid it. Likewise if you are interested in the studio's synopsis, which is: “Two mermaid sisters become caught in a love triangle when they fall for the same man,” then you should probably avoid it as well, because that never happens.

I guess that just goes to show you just how difficult it is to categorize The Lure. If you like mermaids (or sirens) as my wife does (and myself by extension; her intense enthusiasm for the trailer is what heightened my own interest in it), then you should give this one a chance. If you like musicals, it's hit-or-miss for you, and ditto that if you're here for the horror aspects. It works best for audiences that go in looking to be assaulted with a freewheeling carelessness, and don't mind hitting quite a few bumps along the way.

RATING: 7/10

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Trainwreck (2015)

Director: Judd Apatow
Writer(s): Amy  Schumer
Starring: Amy Schumer, Bill Hader, and Brie Larson, and Colin Quinn

As tempted as I am to take the easy way out, and say that this movie is aptly titled, I will refuse to go that route; it’s even worse. This is a movie that desperately wants to trick its audience into thinking it’s edgy and unique, but the only way it knows how to do that is by throwing in an “f” word, or a graphic description of sexuality. I actually enjoy this kind of humor when it’s properly used, but not when it comes off as desperate as the one-night stands that fill up half the movie.

It’s no surprise this was a critical darling: anything Judd Apatow touches is already instantaneous “gold”, while Amy Schumer is the current “it” girl of Hollywood comedies. It’s a combination that’s “too big to fail”, and I have no doubt some critics got some lean “bonuses” from the studio to ensure that positive reviews brainwashed the American public into believing this is something special. It’s not. It’s every bit as formulaic as all the other mainstream rom-coms, even down to the sudden shift in tone--from over-the-top comedy, to genuine drama—that sets up the third act. Why do movies like this always have to give us some kind of moral lesson? One moment we get a story about how a character has to dislodge a condom lodged inside her using only her finger, and the next, we’re supposed to be emotionally involved when that character—who is intentionally made to be as crass and unlikable as possible—suffers the loss of her father? Of course, stuff like this happens in all similar movies, from American Pie, who made junk like this marketable, on to its thousands of like-minded clones, and it’s every bit as pointless now as it was then; this was just used to highlight how by-the-numbers this is, no matter how many times “fuck” is said on screen.

Amy Schumer (who also wrote the screenplay) plays Amy, a woman who has commitment issues. She sleeps with a new man every night, kicks them out before morning, and is satisfied to never see them again. Her behavior, we are lead to believe, is a result of her father telling her and her sister at a very young age that monogamy is pointless and unrealistic. This is advice her sister never took this to heart, as she is now married and with a child on the way (though she already has a stepchild).

Anyway, queue all the clichés: She essentially vows to never get married, until her job requires her to interview a sports doctor (Bill Hader), who she slowly falls for despite sleeping with him on the first date, and then she ruins the doctor’s big day at an awards ceremony, so she thinks it’s over, and then starts drinking and going back to her promiscuous ways, and then he thinks it’s over, but is encouraged by his friends to try patching things up, and then they do, and then the movie ends.

The main issue is that Amy’s character is made up to be such a dick that none of this standardized formula really works. Take, for example, the obligatory scenes, briefly outlined above, where both of them “do wrong” and attempt to win each other back. The problem here, is that the sports doctor did nothing wrong—Amy consistently screws things up for him, refuses to even acknowledge her mistakes or apologize, and we’re supposed to cheer for them to be together in the end, solely out of familiarity of the subgenre and how it works. Like her character, Ms. Schumer refuses to put forth any effort to make us want to see them together; she just wills it, and relies on multi-million dollar marketing campaigns to make it so.

There are two saving graces that prevent this from being a complete disaster, and they go by the names of Lebron James, and Dave Attell. James gets the most screentime out of the two, by far, and is a surprisingly decent comedic actor. Sure, he generally relies on the cuteness and the “Hey, that’s Lebron James!” factor, at least at first, but it works, and he actually delivers a couple of humorous lines. Attell, who plays a homeless man who constantly stands outside of Amy’s apartment, is very sparingly used, but delivers Attell-style quips to passersby, to often funny results.

The rest is all miss. I have never seen Schumer’s television series, and have only witnessed short clips of her television show, so I didn’t really know what to expect going in here. On top of the constant vulgarities, the script also relies a lot on awkward silences, also a current fad in Hollywood, which tend to wear thin after being overused within the first few minutes. I think she’s a very attractive woman, and will not form a cemented opinion of her based on one project, but I honestly believe the buzz from this is a marketing attempt to push her farther up the comedy echelon, where more people stand to profit off of her. There’s just no way that anyone can honestly praise this as “different” from any other romantic comedy—like Amy’s character in the movie, it’s too afraid to commit to being anything other than standardized comedic fare, and the talents—or in Judd Apatow’s case, the overrated hype--of almost everyone involved is wasted.

If you’re a rom-com completist, you may find something to like here, though a word of caution: even my chick flick-loving wife demanded I turn it off at the 90-minute mark out of utter disgust. So we couldn’t even make it all the way through. Which brings me to the point that the only thing worse than a bad romantic comedy, is a bad romantic comedy that thinks it’s smart enough to ramble on for two hours and eight minutes.

RECAP: A piece of utter trash that’s neither as smart nor as funny as you were lead to believe. Trainwreck is so bad, it doesn’t even bare comparisons to its title—whereas trainwrecks are supposedly so horrible you can’t look away, my wife and I had the exact opposite problem, gladly turning it off just beyond the 90-minute mark. The film’s attempt to be “edgy” consists of throwing in random swear words and poorly-timed vulgarities, as it simply runs through one banal rom-com plot checkpoint after another. LeBron James, Dave Attell, and a couple humorous scenes save it from being a complete dog, but it’s even far worse than the similarly-overhyped dreck that was Knocked Up.

RATING: 1.5/10

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Entertainment (2015)

Director: Rick Alvarez
Writer(s): Alvarez, Tim Heidecker, and Gregg Turkington
Starring: Gregg Turkington, John C. Reilly, and Tye Sheridan

I like Neil Hamburger. Like, a lot. His “stand-up” performance is one of only a handful of live shows, music or otherwise, that I have ever been to. His comedy is an acquired taste, and one that most people probably don’t have any interest in acquiring: Neil’s entire set consists of telling question-and-answer jokes to the audience, gagging and coughing loudly to cover the silence in between the question and the answer, to prevent his fans from revealing the answer before he can (example joke: “Why does Arby’s lather their sandwiches in mayo? (long pause featuring constant hacking and coughing while crowd shouts out answers). So they’re easier to flush down the toilet!”). Not surprisingly, he is also awkward, presenting himself as a sad-sack loser who frequently sobs in between jokes that are of particularly poor taste, blaming the audience for making him tell it.  He occasionally berates audience members who are too loud, unleashing vulgar, brutal tirades that are probably more authentic to him than we realize. You would think it would be a thankless, dead-end job, but he has opened for acts such as Faith no More (another one of my faves), and Tenacious D, and has also been booed at quite a few festivals, comprised of audiences that aren’t quite in on the joke. It’s a shtick that shouldn’t be funny for more than a couple of minutes, but I find him absolutely hilarious.

What makes the whole setup even more “endearing” (for lack of a better term) is that Neil Hamburger is actually a character played by Gregg Turkington, a well-respected member of the music underground. He ran Armadillo Records for a few years in the early-to-late ‘90s. He was a tour manager for Link Wray, and one of my personal favorite bands, Mr. Bungle. He was a founding member of the musical duo Zip Code Rapists, collaborated with Trey Spruance (also a member of Mr. Bungle) in his band Secret Chiefs 3, has provided voices to mostly one-off characters in several animated shows, including “Aqua Teen Hunger Force” and “Adventure Time”, made small appearances in films like Ant-Man, as well as in television shows, like the series finale of "CSI", and ran the clever blog “Warm Voices Rearranged: Anagram Record Reviews” with fellow musician Brandon Kearney. This is one of those guys that manages to be both prolific, yet criminally underrated at the same time.

If you’re already lost on any part of the above two paragraphs, then I'll be frank: Entertainment is not for you. It wasn’t for my wife, who doesn't share near the affection for Mr. Turkington that I do, and it almost wasn’t for me. I really can’t see this movie appealing to anyone that isn’t a huge fan of Mr. Hamburger, because when he isn’t telling his trademark “jokes”, then he’s just walking around, as his “real-life” alter ego Gregg Turkington, in a variety of barren desert settings. It starts off intriguing, but once the formula repeats itself over and over again, it gradually threatens to become an endurance test; thankfully, it redeems itself a little bit toward the end, when his character goes off the deep end, and the events, and people, surrounding him get weirder and weirder.

There really isn’t a plot to speak of, at least in the traditional sense; I wasn’t joking when I said that this film more or less follows a rather repetitive formula: Gregg travels to a new location in the desert in his old white car, then there are a few shots of him looking quiet and depressed as he gets ready in the dressing room of some dingy bar, usually while the character credited as “Eddie the Opener” (an intentionally-terrible mime, played by Tye Sheridan) performs on stage; occasionally, the two come together to have an awkward conversation. After this, he goes to his hotel room, where he calls his daughter on the phone and leaves her a message about how his day went. It’s always a message; even she doesn’t seem to want to hear from her father anymore. Then, he usually stares off into the distance for a while longer before going to sleep.

When he wakes up, he usually takes some kind of a local tour (of an oil field, or automobile graveyard, or some similar “attraction”), where we get more quiet stares into space. If we’re lucky, we might actually get some human interaction, though even those instances get more and more bizarre as they slowly get more frequent. In the beginning, he meets up with his cousin, John (John C. Reilly, who you just knew had to show up here somewhere), whom he hasn’t seen in a decade. John thinks like a businessman, and is constantly thinking of ways that he can help Neil gain larger crowds for his shows (he also appears to be just as sincere praising his cousin’s work, as he is completely baffled by the material). But Neil doesn’t seem to have any interest in bigger or better things; as depressed as he always appears to be on the outside, he is apparently more content than we think. Either that, or he’s simply just unmotivated.

One night, he has a brutal encounter with a woman at a bar; after she causes a disruption in his set, he goes off on her the way he does anyone daring enough to interrupt him. However, she doesn’t take it well at all, and throws her drink at him. This only makes him more mad, as he verbally tears into her with a reckless abandon, going above and beyond the norms of decency; he crosses the line here from a “mock hatred” of his audience to genuine contempt, and watching the result is genuinely uncomfortable. She confronts him outside after the show, breaking his glasses and tearing his shirt. Oh, the life of an entertainer. (As an aside for the uninitiated, his performances in real life are way more fun and less cruel than they appear on here; unless he’s the opening act, or playing at a festival, the audience is always in on the joke and play along accordingly. If the audience isn’t familiar…well, things feel more dangerous for Neil than anyone in the audience.)

The film’s minimalistic style, the lack of a narrative, and Neil’s cringe-inducing jokes are going to be enough to turn off a vast majority of its audience. The constantly-droning score doesn’t really help much, as it always sounds like it's hinting at ominous events that never happen. Unsurprisingly, critics—who always have to feed off of each other and pretend to get things that they don’t actually get, much like a wine connoisseur pretends to have the capability of differentiating a 100-year-old bottle of Dom Perignon from a recent vintage of a grocery store brand, simply based on taste—have taken to it, while audiences seem to loathe it. That’s about what I would expect from a film that seems to try very hard to capture the desolation and loneliness of its main character. Occasionally, it works, but it relies on silence and empty stares far too many times to convey its message, as if having it take place completely in a seemingly endless parade of desert didn’t already establish that from the outset.

I hinted at it earlier, but things get really bizarre toward the end, with a nervous man named Tommy (played by Michael Cera) waiting for The Comedian (as he is credited in the movie; he is never referred to by name) and asking to stay with him in his car. But even scenes like this, ones that could have some kind of emotional resolution or resonance, are treated with a blatant indifference that borders on maddening; after the rather mysterious encounter, in which Tommy keeps insisting that The Comedian offer him some company until help arrives for his broken-down car, and The Comedian’s tolerance seems to be reaching an inescapable boiling point, it simply cuts to the next scene. There’s no resolution, and no mention of what either of them decided to do. I get that passiveness is simply part of its style, but the distance with which it treats its main character only serves to further alienate the viewer.

Despite the film's overall tediousness, I have to say that I actually kind of liked it, though again, it all has to do with my familiarity of the material (and its subject) moreso than actual execution. The ending, which I mentioned earlier, also helped to save it a bit for me; that’s when things start to go off the deep end, culminating in an emotional moment that works, even if it is simply because it’s one of the only concrete things that happens in the entire film. Unfortunately, it still manages to ramble on a bit longer, culminating in an abrupt ending that was more frustrating than anything else. When all is said and done, the final joke ends up on the viewer; then again, maybe that was the whole point all along.

RECAP: Much like this review, Rick Alverson's Entertainment is wandering, and overlong, and pretentious, and repetitive, and boring, and it feels like an “inside joke” more than a cohesive movie. But I have a certain fondness for the character of Neil Hamburger (a stand up “comic”, played by Gregg Turkington), so I tolerated the ensuing nothingness a lot more than most will be able to. In fact, many have dismissed this as complete garbage, something that, looking from the eyes of someone else, I can’t really argue. The soundtrack is actually really good, the few times that actual music is heard, while the droning, electronic score, which seems to suggest an ominous threat that isn’t there, is overused. If you’re a fan of Neil, then you might find something to like here; if you’ve never heard of him, hate him, or are indifferent to his existence, then you stand to gain nothing by watching this.

RATING: 5.5/10

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The Lobster (2015)

Director: Yorgos Lanthimos
Writer(s): Lanthimos and Efthymis Filippou
Starring: Colin Farrell, Rachel Weisz, Jessica Barden, and John C. Reilly

I have never minced words when it comes to the kinds of films I tend to like. For example, I avoid Hollywood “blockbusters” like the plague, because watching $200 million worth of computer effects, mixed with embarrassing tidbits of required “humor”, just does nothing for me. Likewise, I get bored very easily, so slogging through derivative drivel is the quickest way to ensure that I'll be dozing off at around the midway point. I guess what I'm trying to say, is that I'm somewhat of a cinema snob, and that's precisely why Yorgos Lanthimos's The Lobster appealed to me.

It's the kind of film where all you need to do is read a couple sentences of the plot synopsis to know that it is strange: It all takes place in a mysterious future society where single people are rounded up and taken to The Hotel; there they have 45 days to fall in love with a suitable match, or else they will live out the rest of their lives as an animal of their own choosing.

In this case, we follow David (Colin Farrell), an awkward (as everyone in this movie is), unconfident nerd of a man that chooses the titular character because, among other reasons, he “enjoys the sea”. He arrives at The Hotel with his dog, which also happens to be his brother (he failed to find a mate during his 45-day sentence) and is notified of the ground rules: no sex between single people is allowed, nor is masturbation, but oral sex from the hotel's maid is fine. Other than that, the Singles are free to walk around and mingle, but must arrive in time for dinner, where all inhabitants watch mandatory dinner skits extolling the virtues of partnership (in one, a woman walking alone is attacked by a man, which doesn't happen when she has a husband walking with her; in another, a lonely man chokes to death, whereas his wife performs the Heimlich and saves him).

The humor, which is rather dry and awkward, unquestionably won't be for everyone, but there are some moments that I found downright hilarious. A majority of them involve David's forced attempt to match with a lady known only as Heartless Woman, so-called for her stunning disregard for human suffering. In one instance, David joins Heartless Woman in a hot tub, where she proceeds to choke to death on an olive, with David making no effort to help her—as it turns out, she was merely attempting to test their compatibility together. Ironically, by not doing anything to save her, Heartless Woman agrees that they would make a good match.  On paper, this sequence might not sound funny, but thanks to the atmosphere of deadpan humor, Yanthimos pulls it off with straight-faced fervor.

Since it's a movie that will widely be classified as “bizarre”, that means John C. Reilly is required by law to appear in it; he fulfills his contractual obligation by playing a character known only as Lisping Man (none of the Singles in the mansion are referred to by name; instead they are called by identifying traits), who ends up receiving a harsh, primitive punishment for masturbating in his Hotel room (in a scene that somehow manages to be both unnerving and completely absurd).

Shortly after this, Heartless Woman discovers that David has only been pretending to be like her all along, when she beats his dog/brother to death. Upon hearing this, and seeing the evidence of blood all over her feet and legs, he runs into the bathroom to cry, and is caught; feeling their partnership was founded on a lie, she threatens to report him to the Hotel Manager, where he will be subject to punishment. David has other ideas, though: with the help of the maid, he tranquilizes Heartless Woman, and turns her into an unspecified animal. Realizing he will probably be caught if he sticks around, he escapes the Hotel and runs off into The Woods, joining a pack of nomads known only as Loners.

Even the Loners have their own set of rules, and chief among them is that romance between Loners is punishable by the “red kiss”: that's where the offending couple have their lips cut off and are then forced to press them together. Our narrator, who is known only as Short-Sighted Woman (Rachel Weisz), mentions that there is also “red intercourse” punishment, but she has never seen it done and doesn't even want to imagine what it could possibly entail. She gets closer and closer to possibly finding out, as she quickly falls for David, something that gradually starts to rub the leader of the Loners (Lea Seydoux) the wrong way. Will their love be enough to save them from the ire of their group, or will they have to face their stiff punishment?

There is a lot of social commentary in The Lobster, and perhaps the most effective bit is the way that partnership and marriage is forced on the inhabitants of The City; it's not a far cry at all from the way single people are generally referred to as “inferior” in today's society. From the moment we are old enough to listen, most people are taught that a life well-lived means falling in love with someone, getting married, and having children; the laws of The City consist of this idea taken to chilling extremes.

The performances are hard to critique, because all of the actors are intentionally wooden and awkward, which feed into the film's deadpan style; this was clearly designed to bring attention to the emotionless state of this future, where people quite literally go through the entire motion of life. It's a fascinating little touch--one that, like everything else in this movie, seems designed to divide viewers right down the middle—but an artistic decision that also makes sense within the context of the story. Even more telling is that it's impossible to imagine this film being played straight.

It doesn't always succeed in what it's trying to do; it does manage to taper off a bit as it winds down from its identity as awkward comedy, and starts focusing more on the love story aspect. I thought the first 90 minutes were actually pretty brisk, with everything moving along at a great pace, and then it kind of seemed to run out of ideas, ironically once the focus came on the budding romance between David and Short-Sighted Woman. That's not to say that I found it dull at any point, just that it's ideas taper off at just the moment I was expecting them to kick into overdrive.

There is also quite a bit of animal cruelty, so those with an affinity for the well-being of animals might have a difficult time making it through a couple of parts. Of course, these scenes are simulated, so no animals are actually harmed, but the scenes are realistic enough that it could easily upset people. This is neither a “pro”, nor “con” so much as it is just a warning...I was unprepared for it, and while the animal violence didn't upset me, it definitely did my wife, to the point that I don't think she would have agreed to watch it with me had she been made aware of it beforehand.

Lanthimos, you may recall, is also the director of Dogtooth, another film that's fairly well-known in some circles for its abounding strangeness. If you like that film, chances are you will like this one; at the very least, you will know what to expect. I liked Dogtooth, but wasn't blown away by it. The Lobster, though, feels like the perfect natural extension of his talents, taking a surrealistic set of ideas, and somehow combining them in such a way that it could appeal to more open-minded mainstream viewers; for this reason alone, it should be considered some kind of masterpiece.

RATING: 8/10

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Turbo Kid (2015)

Director: François Simard, Anouk Whissell, and Yoann-Karl Whissell
Writer(s): Simard, Whissell, and Whissell (sounds like a law firm!)
Starring: Munro Chambers, Laurence Leboeuf, Michael Ironside, and Edwin Wright

Let me preface this review by stating that I have a soft spot for low-budget films. They’ve always functioned as the antithesis to Hollywood blockbusters, those stale, watered-down, half-baked cinematic “experiences” that are manufactured only to put people in theater seats. Thankfully, I outgrew those in my teen years, when I realized that forced jokes, superhero movies, and computer-generated effects just didn’t do anything for me. They still don’t.

But while such independent films have always been labors of love, the stakes feel even higher now, when mainstream movie budgets continue to rise at alarming rates (in between talking heads crying foul over movie pirating that threatens to dismantle the movie and music industries…something about that doesn’t add up). In other words, as much as I loved Peter Jackson before he grew into the record-breaking creator of the Lord of the Rings trilogy (a series I succumbed to halfway through out of pure boredom), I enjoy them even more now. One would argue that the Internet has soured the market, and indeed a quick search on YouTube can yield thousands of low-budget shows and movies and clips--things that should never have been made (or at the very least, uploaded). But to me, that just makes finding a good little low-budgeter all the more rewarding.

Enter Turbo Kid, an ingenious ode to kids and action movies from the ‘80s. How is it that a movie constrained to such a small budget has infinite more imagination than almost all Hollywood films, which actually have the monetary means to create anything that they could possibly envision? This movie was clearly a labor of love, created by a group of three directors (two guys and a gal, all of whom also appear in bit parts throughout the movie) who work well within their budgetary limitations, delivering an exciting, surprisingly bloody, and comedic trip through an apocalyptic wasteland.

Munro Chambers plays a character known simply as “The Kid”, a boy whose parents are killed by an evil water tycoon, unsubtly referred to as Zeus (Michael Ironside). You see, in this futuristic society, all of the Earth’s water is tainted, with Zeus controlling all of the freshwater supplies, and when he discovers that The Kid’s parents were hording a stash for themselves, he didn’t take too kindly to that. And so The Kid has spent the last decade of his life wandering the barren landscape, collecting trinkets that he finds, and trading them in for necessary survival supplies with Bagu (Romano Orzari), a local shop owner.

Life gets pretty lonely for The Kid, at least until he meets the acquaintance of Apple, an endlessly cheery gal who proceeds to follow him around, courtesy of a tracking bracelet she places on him. At first, The Kid is off-put by her creepy charms, but of course he is eventually won over…just in time for her to be kidnapped by one of Zeus’ henchmen. Zeus isn’t just content with having the monopoly on clean water, and an endless supply of wealth—he also enjoys staging Coliseum-style fights between commoners and his own henchmen, fights that don’t end well for the commoners.

Meanwhile, The Kid stumbles on a secret underground lair where he finds the costume to Turbo Rider, his favorite comic book character. A playing video informs him that he is the last hope for humanity, and must don the outfit to continue Turbo Rider’s fight against evil. He accepts the mission and shows up to Zeus’ castle, where he must fight his way through several of his henchmen in order to save the girl that he loves.

One of the critiques that I’ve read is that the film never puts Turbo Kid in any apparent, immediate danger, which lessens the impact of excitement for the viewer, but I disagree wholeheartedly. The entire movie has a quality of “dreaminess” to it, and so I take it as a film that more or less takes place inside the head of a child. What kid hasn’t dreamed of being a superhero at one point or another, or dreamed of saving the life a girl that’s rejected him, if only to win her heart? I’ve never been much of a superhero fan, but even I would daydream about scenarios like that during elementary school (and probably even through high school). I can also assure you in those instances, the bad guys never even came close to winning. While this viewpoint is never directly stated, or really even implied, just the whole superhero subgenre itself feeds into this mindset, and relies upon this level of escapism. Maybe I’m putting words in its mouth that weren’t actually there, but regardless of the danger a main character is put in in a film like this, we already know he’s going to make it out alive anyway, which kind of lessens the argument.

Anyway, despite its lack of funds, this is a movie that looks straight out of the ‘80s, from the hilariously cheesy Turbo Glove blaster effect, to the main title screen, to bicycles as every character’s main mode of transportation, and even on down to the pitch-perfect, synth-heavy score. We can see its budget lovingly rendered on the screen, in the form of delightfully cheesy CGI effects (of which I am hugely against, but which really work in this kind of intentionally-campy romp), and ridiculously bloody deaths that recall the arterial sprays of the Lone Wolf and Cub series of samurai films.

Yes, despite its name, this is not a film for children. But it is a film for adults who may be children at heart, and who may be disillusioned by the recent spate of unending Hollywood superhero extravaganzas. Above all, despite the practical effects and gallons of gore, Turbo Kid is also a movie with a surprising amount of heart, something the mainstream won’t be able to touch until they either allow quality writers to write their films, or invest billions of dollars in a technological advancement that would allow the addition of synthetic feelings and emotions in their films. Sadly, of those two scenarios, it’s the second one that has the greater odds of coming true.

RECAP: This loving homage to kid and action films from the ‘80s features a shocking amount of blood, and a few slapstick bits of gore humor that wouldn’t feel out of place in an old Peter Jackson film. But grue aside, this film also has a freewheeling, wacky inventiveness and confident go-for-broke style that transcends its budgetary constraints. There’s also a surprising amount of heart that manages to be charming, without ever feeling strained. It’s not perfect—there are some slight pacing issues throughout, with the main story taking a little too long to get going—but for those that grew up on ‘80s kids films, you owe it to yourself to track this one down.

RATING: 8/10

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The Invitation (2015)

Director: Karyn Kusama
Writer(s): Phil Hay and Matt Manfredi
Starring: Logan Marshall-Green, Emayatzy Corinealdi, Michiel Huisman, and Tammy Blanchard

I stumbled on information for The Invitation at some point last year and had been waiting for it ever since; some early hype, coupled with an eerie, simple premise, is what sucked me in, but then I kind of forgot all about it in the intervening months.  Once I saw that it had come to VOD (video on-demand) services, I eagerly tracked it down.  Would I get that rare movie that lived up to its hype, or as the odds seem to favor, at least as far as I’m concerned, an overrated pile of garbage?  The answer with this one lies somewhere in the middle.

I have to begin this review with a rather bizarre disclaimer: I recently started taking Adderall for ADD.  I also happened to ingest some caffeine a couple of hours before sitting down to this viewing.  Me being sensitive to caffeine, and still getting used to the medicine made me a nervous, paranoid mess.  So am I confessing that I wasn’t in the right state of mind when watching The Invitation, thus nullifying the review?  That would depend on your interpretation, because the movie actually benefited from my fragile state-of-mind; as my wife (who, also as a disclaimer, is pregnant and hormonally imbalanced) railed against every stupid plot contrivance, or poorly-scripted moment, I was actually glued to the edge of my seat, wondering how it would all play out. And grip me this slow-burn horror film did, ironically up until the ending, when stuff actually starts happening; it is also at that point that this more-or-less becomes a formulaic “who will live and who will die” game that just isn’t very fun to play.

Will (Logan Marshall-Green) and his girlfriend Kira (Emayatzy Corinealdi) are on their way to the house of Will’s ex-wife, Eden (Tammy Blanchard).  The invitation is rather curious and comes out of nowhere for the couple, as Will has not seen Eden in over two years.  Making the situation even more intense is the unspeakable tragedy that befell the two ex-lovers shortly before they split: the death of their young son, Ty.  Both of them seem rather apprehensive of the celebration, but I suppose Will wants to go just to face down some of the demons of his past; things get off to a bad start when he hits a coyote on the way, and beats it with a tire iron to put it out of its misery (you can always rely on a horror film to feature an obvious case of foreshadowing).  Oh, and another little bit of weirdness: Eden still lives in the same house she shared with Will, and the same place that Ty met his premature end.

When they arrive, they find that they were not the only ones asked to attend: There’s Tommy and his partner Miguel, and then friends Ben, Claire, and Gina.  One of Gina’s friends, Choi (I thought they were saying “Troy” the whole time), is supposedly on his way, but since he always runs late, no one is concerned.  After meeting, or re-acquainting himself with all of the guests, the hosts make their first appearance: Along with Eden is David, a man whom she met while attending a session for grief counseling.  As David speaks to the gathered group of (former) friends, Will notices the figure of a woman staring at him from a bedroom.  This is Sadie, and she is either pretty clearly insane, or drugged; she met Eden and David while the two of them were on a retreat to Mexico, and moved in with them upon their return to the States.  Will seems a little thrown off by this, but no one else is; this is a reoccurring theme throughout.  Also making things weirder is the random inclusion of Pruitt, a creepy and quiet man that arrives late, and introduces himself as a friend of Eden and David.

As everyone starts getting settled in, David decides that’s the perfect time to play for them a video of a group that they joined, called “The Invitation”, that was designed to help victims of trauma heal through spiritualism.  Only, the video is of a dying woman being comforted by a man who has the appearance and mannerisms of a cult leader; the guests are disturbed when the woman dies onscreen, right before their very eyes.  A bunch of little things keep adding up: the game of “I Want” in which Pruitt reveals he murdered his wife in a drunken rage, David insisting on locking the door from the inside, the guest that demands to leave, only to be escorted out by Pruitt, and the list goes on and on.  Yet anytime Will, who is the only one alerted to the weirdness and escalating menace of the night, voices his opinions, the other one-dimensional characters try to allay his fears by blaming it on the emotions from his emotional trauma.  At first, it makes sense, but once it continues to happen as things are clearly going off the deep end, it just feels like a frequently-used (and increasingly frustrating) fallback option for writers Phil Hay and Matt Manfredi.

As I said, the film enthralled me until the very end, when all hell breaks loose and it basically becomes a typically-tepid exercise of “killers vs. main stars” with little in the way of intensity or excitement.  It’s just a parade of predictable violence; we know who will live and who’s expendable, and the film never has the guts to stray from that well-worn formula.  Then there’s the ending, which is beyond dumb.  It’s the kind of ending that you’re either going to love or hate; clearly, I hated it, to the point that it undid a lot of the goodwill the movie had managed to build up to that point.  For a movie that already requires its audience to suspend disbelief for most of its duration, throwing us an ending like this—one that is even more preposterous an idea than anything that came before it—is a pretty brave, albeit misguided, creative choice.

The performances are uniformly average for this kind of film, though I did think Logan Marshall-Green was fantastic as Will.  Part of this is by default: he’s the only good character that the screenwriters spend any amount of time fleshing out.  Whereas the others come off as cardboard cutouts that only serve to try to calm him (and, by extension, the audience) down and allay him of his ever-so-obvious suspicions, Will comes off as the perfect anti-horror film hero: he is always aware of his surroundings, not afraid to speak up, and able to defend himself when required.  Thus, he is the only one that’s ever required to emote; his anger and sorrow are palpable, without a single hint of cheesiness or artificiality.  It’s really a solid performance, especially considering the rather lukewarm material, and one of the big reasons the movie manages to work at all.

Despite its many, gaping flaws, which are becoming even more obvious to me as I type this up, I’m still recommending it, but with loads of caution.  No matter what I think now, it doesn’t change that I was genuinely enthralled while watching it, even as the twists and turns became stupider and stupider.  It asks a lot of its audience, but if you fit the bill--namely that you have no problems casting reality out the window and forgiving the actions of increasingly stupid characters, and you have the patience required of a movie that takes pride in slowly (SLOWLY) unfolding its story—then this just might be the film for you.  Although, now that I think about it, that ending might not be for anyone...

RECAP: As a disclaimer, I was hopped up on (legally prescribed) Adderall and caffeine (which I’m sensitive to) while watching this, and as a result, found myself as paranoid and nervous as the main character; the atmosphere slowly (SLOWLY) cultivates a growing feeling of dread, and every little added layer to the story got my heart racing a little bit more.  The main character, Will, is also well-written, and ably performed by Logan-Marshall Green.  However, as it rolls on, it keeps demanding more and more from the viewer to forgive its more glaring weaknesses, and then has the nerve to cap everything off with a groan-inducing ending that pretty much defies all logic.  The beginning and middle were tense and interesting enough for me to slightly recommend it, but you’ll be better served by toning down, if not flat-out ignoring, all the hype.

RATING: 6/10  

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Bone Tomahawk (2015)

Director: S. Craig Zahler
Writer(s): Zahler
Starring: Kurt Russell, Patrick Wilson, Matthew Fox, and David Arquette

Horror/comedies can be a tricky thing already; that’s double the case when the brunt of your material tackles serious themes.  Most horror/comedies utilize ridiculous premises that naturally allow the silliness to thrive, but Bone Tomahawk goes the opposite direction, throwing attempted laughs in a movie that should not be funny.  And that’s the problem: it isn’t funny.  Most horror writers aren’t comedy writers, which is evident from the ill-timed jokes here.  I’m a little confused as to what purpose the humor serves—is it supposed to take some of the sharpness off the graphic kill scenes and intense atmosphere?  Or is it thrown in there simply to murder all forms of momentum the film was hoping to achieve?  It does both.  Because of this, Bone Tomahawk is merely an average movie that could have been a great one.

For a little over the first half of its bloated run-time, Bone Tomahawk plays like a straight western: As the film opens, two thieves murder several men at a campsite, then steal their possessions.  When one of them is suddenly slaughtered, the remaining survivor, Purvis (a sleazy and well-played David Arquette) escapes to the nearby town of Bright Hope, where Sheriff Franklin Hunt (Russell) presides.  Hunt’s old, but trusty deputy Chicory (Richard Jenkins) notices Purvis drinking himself into a stupor in a local bar, and senses something is wrong with him, so he notifies Hunt.  A few moments later, and Chicory’s senses are confirmed, leading Hunt to shoot Purvis in the leg, then haul him off to jail.

They then call the town doctor, Samantha (played by a beautiful Lili Simmons) over to take care of his wound.  But things take a turn for the worse when Samantha, Purvis, and Nick, another deputy, all wind up missing, an arrow stuck in a wall the only shred of evidence as to what happened to them.  Hunt consults with a local Native American, who informs him that only one clan hunts with arrows like that—a primitive tribe of cave dwelling Indians known as “Troglodytes”.  The Native American refuses to guide them on their journey, and warns that going after them is suicide.  But Hunt and Chicory are joined by Arther O’Dwyer, Samantha’s husband, and John Brooder, a man who boasts killing “more Indians than all of you combined.”  Oh, and he also has a thing for Samantha.

So the four of them set out for the caves; according to Hunt, they are making a five-day trek in three days, and it starts to feel like real-time after a while.  It doesn’t help that all the key parts of the journey, are pretty much all tired Western clichés: the random attacks from outlaws, injuries requiring brutal surgery, the stolen horses resulting in forced travel on foot, the obligatory (simulated and off-screen) animal cruelty…it’s all here, and it all feels very, very familiar. 

Then comes the ending, which features a much talked-about kill sequence that was picked as the #1 kill scene of 2015 by none other than Fangoria magazine.  As graphic as it is (and as impressive as the practical effects work is—there is no CGI used at all in this movie), its effectiveness is lost in a movie that tosses out jokes like candy, and features characters that are too cool to be bothered with petty little things like emotions (seriously, three characters watch a person get brutally slaughtered, and none of them ever scream, or cry, or even talk about it afterwards). For some, this "coolness" is the reason this film is praised, but for me, it just rang with a hollow emptiness.

There are two things that Bone Tomahawk does incredibly well: The first, is Kurt Russell.  He carries this picture on his back.  The other actors do admirable jobs, as well, but this is Russell’s picture, and he picks up right where he left off twenty years ago with Tombstone. Here, he plays the clichéd honest and hardworking sheriff that we’ve seen a million times, but Russell rises above the familiarity to deliver an excellent, if somewhat subdued, performance.

Secondly, director S. Craig Zahler (who is at fault for the tedious screenplay) proves that he’s at least adept at wringing tension from simple scenarios.  His Wild West feels like a menacing landscape where violence can erupt at any given time, especially as they get closer to the Troglodyte’s hideout.  This is the kind of atmosphere that many Westerns try to cultivate—after all, this is a time period known for its violence—but very few succeed as admirably as Zahler does here.  That at least helps to make up for some of his own downfalls.

In the end, this is a potentially great movie undone by an identity crisis; it blends often idiotic dialogue played for laughs, with sometimes shocking, graphic violence that’s meant to disturb.  It tries to have its cake and eat it, too, but the two extremes work in direct competition with each other, rather than in tandem, making Bone Tomahawk the perfect example of a film that tries to do too much, and in doing so, ends up doing not nearly enough.

RECAP: Director S. Craig Zahler gets massive mileage out of Kurt Russell’s amazing performance, and also wrings as much tension as possible out of the slow-burn story.  However, he’s compromised by his own screenplay, which frequently goes for laughs that contradict the otherwise intense atmosphere.  There’s also a very fine-line between a “slow-burn” story, and a boring one, and this one conveniently falls into the latter category.  Aside from the genre blendings, there's really nothing original on display here, either, with a rather familiar Western story giving way to a rather familiar horror tale in the finale.  Worth a look for Kurt Russell fans, or those that are into Westerns, but everyone else should approach with caution.

RATING: 5/10 

White God (2015)

Director: Kornél Mundruczó
Writer(s): Mundruczó, Viktória Petrányi, and Kata Wéber
Starring: Zsófia Psotta, Sándor Zsótér, Lili Horváth, Bodie & Luke

There are people on one end of a spectrum that take their love of animals a little bit too far, revering them and valuing their lives moreso than those of most humans.  Usually, their argument is something along the lines of “Animals are pure and sweet and know nothing but love, while humans are vile, violent creatures.”  I would know this firsthand; I married a woman like this.  And yes, she is still my wife.  She stops in her tracks any time she sees a stray dog, and will only relax upon seeing that its owner is nearby, and she would be the person that would break the glass of a car to rescue an animal left out in extreme heat or cold (and she has come very close to doing this already).  Needless to say if it ever came down to a situation where she could only save my life, or our dog’s, I would be very, very nervous.

On the other end of the spectrum, you have people that admire their pets, but are of the mindset that they are nothing more than animals.  They love them and take care of them, maybe even treat them like part of the family, but they wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of them under the right circumstances; such as putting them down rather than paying for a costly procedure that only has a small percentage of succeeding.  I would snugly fit into this category.

As with many different viewpoints, oftentimes people from one side can’t see eye-to-eye on people with the other.  I can speak from experience that I get annoyed every time my wife drives by a stray dog, then has to turn back around to see where it’s going and who, if anyone, is watching after it (thankfully, these moments are rare, but they have happened).  Likewise, my wife can’t understand how in the world I see my dog as “just an animal”, which he is.  I love him, I’ll pet him, I’ll play with him, and I’ll even be sad when he’s gone, but it won’t pack the same emotional punch for me as if a human friend or relative died—my wife, on the other hand, will absolutely lose it when that day invariably comes.

I’m rambling on with a purpose, and that is to say that White God has not only shown me what it would be like to share my wife’s viewpoint; for two hours, it put me in her shoes.  I was seething at many of the film’s powerful, and all-too-realistic (altruistic?) scenes of animal cruelty.  I cheered when the animals finally got their revenge.  And, dare I say, by the end, I was so overwhelmed, with so many different, sometimes conflicting emotions, that I teared up.  To put that into perspective, I don’t ever tear up.

One of White God’s main strengths is in the simplicity of its story:  Girl has dog.  Girl gets sent to live with father for three months.  Father doesn’t like dog.  Father gets rid of dog.  Dog goes through hardships.  Girl looks for dog.  Dog looks for girl.  That basically summarizes the entire movie; but what no amount of words can possibly summarize, is the thrill you get from watching it.  This is an expertly-made Frankenmovie crafted out of wildly disparate parts: It’s part Milo and Otis, part human/animal drama, part coming-of-age film, and part revenge thriller.  That any of these things fit together at all is shocking; that they all somehow manage to combine to form a single, powerful narrative is nothing short of a minor miracle.

I won’t reveal too much of the story; this is one of those movies that can best be enjoyed the less you know going in.  There aren’t really any twists or turns that can be ruined—the whole movie actually plays out pretty much the way you know it’s going to play out, straight from the outset—but the “fun” of this movie is just putting it on, strapping yourself in, and letting it take you along for the ride.

That “ride” certainly is a bit overlong: clocking in at almost exactly two hours, there are certainly a few scenes that could have been excised without losing any of the film’s raw power.  Lili, the main girl (played by Zsofia Psotta), is also a little stiff, and doesn’t really show much range in her performance; this is a girl who is so attached to her dog that she refuses to leave its side (even taking it to band practice, at one point, because she has nowhere else to go), and yet the highest peak of her emotional performance is “mild irritation.”  It doesn’t feel very authentic, nor does it do much to suck you in to the human side of the story.

But ultimately that’s okay, because White God is all about the dogs.  All 250+ of them, gathering together to defy authority and exact revenge on all the humans that had done them wrong.  These sequences pack an even greater emotional punch when you realize that all of the dogs in the movie, are REAL (none computerized), and everything was shot live.  Even more astonishing?  All of the dogs used in the movie were rescue dogs who, previous to the movie, were never trained.  The trainers, lead by one Teresa Ann Miller, also deserve a lot of credit for their role in the movie, whipping the dogs (figuratively, of course), including Bodie and Luke, who took turns playing Hagen, into filming shape in just five short months. 

If you are an absolute animal lover (as my wife is), you will have a hard time getting through it (she refused to even try):  There are many scenes of rather graphic animal cruelty, and a large number of dogs die in the film.  However, these sequences are what help to make the ending so satisfying; without them, this movie wouldn’t pack half the emotional resonance that it does.  I love revenge films, but even the best of them have never affected me in this way—despite the fact I was sitting in my living room, completely alone, I cheered and hollered as the dogs picked off the objects of their suffering, one-by-one, typically in gory fashion.  It’s an unbelievable sequence, but after the carnage is over, it still manages to elicit tears with one of the best final scenes in recent memory.  As with just about any scene in any movie, it won’t work for some—I could see where some might find it incredibly cheesy—but I thought it was absolutely perfect, and I had chills running down my spine as the credits began to run.

RECAP: White God jumps between so many genres and subgenres you would think its failures are all but guaranteed; yet the expert direction (by Kornél Mundruczó), along with several powerful sequences, make this one of the best, and most unique, revenge thrillers of all time.  I found the acting (especially from Lili) to be a little underwhelming, and there are definitely several minutes that could have been excised without affecting the movie’s raw emotions, but overall, this is required viewing for all but the most emotional animal lover.  It’s certainly not an easy watch, but to merely say the payoff is “worth it” is the understatement of the century.  Highly recommended.

RATING: 9/10