Movie Review

  • Tully (2018)

    Tully (2018)

    (On Cable TV, January 2019) As a parent who just got out of the first few tough years, there’s an innate relatability to Tully’s phantasmagorical premise that rings true—given the sleep deprivation during a baby’s first years, I’m not sure that any parent is actually totally sane during that period and this film runs with the premise. Charlize Theron adds another impressive notch to her multidimensional screen persona by playing an overworked, super-stressed mother of three, with Mackenzie Davis in a strong supporting role and Ron Livingston to tie the narrative threads together. As a portrait of parenthood, Tully is more ruthlessly honest than most other movies—there’s little idealization going on here, and we’re miles away from shiny mommy blogging. There’s a nice balance between domestic details and frustration and the more outlandish flights of fancy that the story requires. Reuniting with scribe Diablo Cody (herself a mother of three), director Jason Reitman doesn’t try to recapture Juno’s motormouth wit but wisely stays grounded given the third-act twists. Going closer to spoilers, I remain as dumbfounded as anyone as to the popularity of the “Fight Club in another setting” premise (taking over from “Die Hard in another setting”) as shared by Tully and near-contemporary Adrift—it’s a narrative strategy build on deceit and now-cheap revelations, and I’m not sure it’s a subgenre that will age well. Still, I found a lot to relate to in Tully’s sleep-deprived fantasies and can’t stay mad for long at the plot cheats that it needs in order to justify itself.

  • The Belko Experiment (2016)

    The Belko Experiment (2016)

    (On Cable TV, January 2019) Office work can be dispiriting enough that there is really no reason to add a battle royale on top of it, but that’s what writer/producer James Gunn and director Greg McLean go for in The Belko Experiment. The story depends on a highly suspicious number of contrivances (all the way to devices willingly implanted in people’s skulls) to pit eighty office workers against each other until a single one is left. The surprisingly strong subgenre of “everyone must die except one” movie is generally ugly and nihilistic (even you, The Hunger Games) and this newest entry is no exception. Having the same murder mechanics inside an office building could have been played for laughs but definitely isn’t, and the result is not particularly uplifting. Given the forgone conclusion (blood … pools of blood), the only thing that remains is the execution, and the best that The Belko Experiment can do is fight its way to an average set of thrills and gore. The ending does feature one effective scene and one mildly intriguing plot backflip, but it also raises expectations beyond what the film can fulfill—now that the really interesting questions have been raised, what’s next? But the film then cuts to the credit sequence, not really interested in its final idea as anything but a stinger. Viewers already know from the “Battle royale in an office” description whether they’re interested in seeing the film, but they should be forewarned that they will get nothing extra on top of that.

  • Stalker (1979)

    Stalker (1979)

    (On Cable TV, January 2019) Despite my best intentions, I remain unmoved by Andrei Tarkovsky’s filmography. Stalker is often mentioned in “best science fiction movies” lists, but I have to wonder how much of this reputation is due to contrarianism or historical desire to annoy the USSR. (Or, within the written SF community, the excellent standing of its source novel by the Strugatsky brothers.) It’s still true that Stalker is quite unlike most Science Fiction movies even today. At nearly two hours and 45 minutes, it’s a long sit made even longer by the glacial pace of the film—and most of it only features three characters walking around industrial ruins. (Considering this and the sorry state of the set decorations on Solyaris, I have to wonder how much of Tarkovsky’s SF filmography was based on the availability of disaffected Soviet factories.) Tarkvsky, of course, isn’t some kind of rapid-fire auteur—his entire oeuvre is slow paced and you know from the second film what you’re getting into. Still, I didn’t dislike Stalker as much as I wanted to: There are a few good ideas buried under the lengthy shots, and some very clever filmmaking ideas as well—the picture shifts from sepia to colour as the characters enter the mysterious alien “zone” in which the story takes place, and Tarkovsky’s knack for striking images is not to be dismissed easily. Still, it takes an effort of will to avoid fast-forwarding through the entire thing. Tarkovsky could be ten times as interesting if he was twice as concise.

  • America America (1963)

    America America (1963)

    (On Cable TV, January 2019) It’s always interesting when a filmmaker uses the tool of their craft to tell us a story about themselves or their family. Here, we have veteran writer/director Elia Kazan helming a production (adapted from his own book) telling all about how his uncle made it from Turkey to America, with numerous obstacles along the way. It’s both a foreign film and a deeply American one, illustrating the underdog immigrant mythology that anyone is welcome to the United States and that opportunities await those willing to work for it. Viewers should be warned that America America is long: nearly three hours, and almost all of them spent in the company of the central character, in a magnificent lead performance by Stathis Giallelis—who has nearly no other screen credits to him filmography. The black-and-white cinematography does seem like a missed opportunity to present the story in an even more expansive format, but it’s easy to remain impressed by this effort to put on film a piece of Kazan’s family history.

  • Red Sonja (1985)

    Red Sonja (1985)

    (In French, On Cable TV, January 2019) There was a fantasy film boom in the early-to-mid-1980s, and not all of them were created equal. While Arnold Schwarzenegger’s performance as Conan in the two eponymous movies left a mark, it’s not possible to say the same about his turn in spin-off Red Sonja, or the entire movie itself. A fairly standard heroic fantasy adventure, this is a film that still earns attention today based on two things: its place on Schwarzenegger’s filmography, obviously, but also Brigitte Nielsen as the titular red-headed warrior. But looking fine and acting well are not the same thing, and Schwarzenegger in a rare supporting role only highlights how badly he did when the spotlight was away. It doesn’t help that the script is terrible, with a dull plot, terrible dialogue and sexual politics more outdated than its prehistoric setting—rape is used as a plot device, lesbianism is incarnated by the evil witch and the title character doesn’t have much agency in a movie that’s supposed to revolve around her. The result is an all-around embarrassment devoid of most of the thin guilty pleasures of its other two related movie. And yet, I can’t help thinking that in the proper hands (specifically, a female creative team), Red Sonja would be a movie ripe for a remake.

  • A Christmas Horror Story (2015)

    A Christmas Horror Story (2015)

    (On Cable TV, January 2019) There’s a surprisingly strong subgenre of Christmas horror movies, and A Christmas Horror Story seems like it wants to be four of them at once. An anthology of four short stories loosely linked by none other than William Shatner as a radio DJ (and a few more throwaway links), it’s a Canadian tax-dollar-financed low-budget feature aimed at domestic cable channels in an effort to meet CanCon requirements. While most movies of that type are terrible, A Christmas Horror Story is a little bit better than most: the direction and production values aren’t bad, and the stories generally hold up. Still, not all segments are created equal, and the film’s standout sequence is a Santa-versus-zombie-elves story (and then on to Santa gunning for Krampus himself) with deliciously filthy dialogue and a surprisingly nasty stinger. A Christmas Horror Story is the kind of thing you watch as an antidote for Christmas cheer, and it’s almost exactly what it portrays itself to be (even though your cable channel may mistakenly tag it as comedy). The soundtrack features some pretty good spookified version of holiday tunes, and the end credit promises us that “no elves were harmed during the making of this film”. (Whew.) It’s bound to be watchable in the January-to-October timeframe.

  • Santa Jaws (2018)

    Santa Jaws (2018)

    (On Cable TV, January 2019) How can you resist not seeing a movie called Santa Jaws, even though the title also practically guarantees a bad movie? I couldn’t, even knowing what to expect from a Syfy movie. And, whaddaya know, it’s exactly what it says on the tin: A tongue-in-cheek shark movie set around Christmastime, with our comics-obsessed teenager seeing his cherished comics creation coming to life and eating most of his family. Obviously low-budget and featuring lesser talents (I rarely comment on acting skills but—whew—this film doesn’t have much of it), Santa Jaws is meant to be the kind of film you watch without expectations, happy if it even delivers a story or please that it delivered on ironic expectations. On this low metric, Santa Jaws is a half-success: While the script shows no evidence of having been anything but a first draft, it does move its plot pieces along, and fulfill the basic elements of a formula. Still, let’s not get crazy about the results: Santa Jaws is what you want and Santa Jaws is what you will get, with no frills on top. The crazy premise (because why not) is the story driver here, but the Christmastime setting really isn’t used to its fullest potential—the drab washed-out cinematography is about as far from lush Christmas colours as you’d imagine, and surprisingly little of the film actually exploits Christmas iconography even for laughs. But, as I’ve said, this is Santa Jaws and it’s from Syfy—even a failing grade runs above expectations.

  • Cobra (1986)

    Cobra (1986)

    (In French, On TV, January 2019) There are times when, watching 1980s movie, you really start to wonder if Hollywood was sane at all during that decade. For instance: Cobra, the generic action movie featuring Sylvester Stallone at the epitome of the cowboy cop, ready to shoot and maim and kill before even thinking of maybe asking questions. Cobra takes the cop movie clichés of the decade and cranks them up to eleven—the cool car, the big weapons, the moody cop, the evil villains. Its excessive violence is made even worse by the lack of self-awareness of any kind of humour. Reading about the film’s horrible production confirms suspicions that emerge during the film itself: Stallone himself is the problem, thinking of himself as bigger than the movie and relishing the over-the-top psychopathy of the so-called hero. Even the film’s choppy plotting and editing goes back to Stallone, as he ordered last-minute trims to the film in order to compete in theatres. There are side benefits to watching the movie, but not many: Brigitte Nielsen has an outstanding supporting role, and the film does ooze mid-1980s atmosphere. Otherwise, well, Cobra ranks high on the list of exhibits why we really should not indulge in 1980s nostalgia.

  • Elvis Gratton 3: Le retour d’Elvis Wong (2004)

    Elvis Gratton 3: Le retour d’Elvis Wong (2004)

    (In French, On TV, January 2019) By the time you’re creating a third instalment in a series, either you know enough to make it work, or the entire thing has degenerated in a painful copy-of-a-copy-of-a-copy. Elvis Gratton 3: Le retour d’Elvis Wong falls squarely in the second scenario, as it has become a simply grotesque collection of episodes featuring the Elvis Gratton character going through writer/director Pierre Falardeau’s usual pet peeves and comic crutches. This time around, Gratton becomes (with a bit of help from American clichés) a rock star, a cultural sensation and ultimately a media mogul. The pale imitation of the previous two movies’ gags is egregious, and the constant references to then-hip pop and political culture makes the film feel incredibly more dated than many older titles. (Especially in hammering on Chrétien-era Federal Liberals—give it a rest, Falardeau.) While I do share many of Faladreau’s concerns about media manipulation and control, I can’t stand the incredibly blunt and simplistic way he goes about it in this film. The added cabotinage from writer/actor Julien Poulain as Gratton is increasingly annoying and the result is not fun, not funny and not as subversive as it thinks. Elvis Gratton 3: Le retour d’Elvis Wong’s herky-jerky narrative rhythm doesn’t help, and neither does Falardeau’s surprisingly amateurish direction, considering that he was capable of far better. But the Gratton series has always been a cash cow for him, so maybe it wasn’t surprising to see the result of this third instalment.

  • The Star (2017)

    The Star (2017)

    (On Cable TV, January 2019) The increasingly affordable nature of computer animation means that you now often get small studios taking chances on projects that would have been too odd or niche to accomplish at a higher budget. Hence The Star. A nativity story featuring talking-animal comedy is not exactly the kind of thing that seems obvious—the mixture of the sacred and the, ahem, profane is odd enough, but with a budget set at $20M it became a conceptually profitable endeavour even for a major studio such as Sony (working with Cinesite’s Montréal Studio), distributing a film far more faith-based than most Hollywood releases. The budget most clearly shows in the rather amazing voice cast assembled here, from Oprah to Tyler Perry to Ving Rhames to Zachary Levy to Kristin Chenoweth to Christopher Plummer—with Mariah Carey singing along the way. Still, the strange blend of religious earnestness and talking-animal comedy does works better than expected, and The Star should become a minor holiday reference for a few years to come.

  • Odd Thomas (2013)

    Odd Thomas (2013)

    (On Cable TV, January 2019) I ignored Odd Thomas for years, working from the conviction that it couldn’t be more than an average film if it had been adapted from a Dean Koontz novel. (I once read twenty-some Koontz novels in the span of a single year, and liked only one of them.) But as it turns out, this movie adaptation is something different from the usual Koontz. Introducing us to a small-town California psychic, this is a film that makes use of chatty protagonist narration, a fast-paced plot and some off-beat details to tell a story with a well-rounded execution from familiar elements. I suspect that much of the fluidity of the result comes from director Stephen Sommers, a capable sfx storyteller who had a few high-profile movies between 1998 and 2009 but seems to have been sidelined of the industry since then. The plot has something to do with preventing a mass shooting, but the way we get there is far more interesting than expected with plenty of humour, suspense, ingenious use of fantastic tropes and good actors in key roles. The late Anton Yelchin stars as Thomas, with an early role for Gugu Mbatha-Raw and a supporting turn from Willem Dafoe. The hook is interesting, and while there is something slightly off about the overly cute banter as well as some of the individual moments along the way (including a far too dark romantic conclusion), the execution is generally above average and the film is a bit of an unassuming surprise. Even though it’s more of an underrated B-movie than anything else, I probably shouldn’t have waited so long to see it.

  • Game Night (2018)

    Game Night (2018)

    (On Cable TV, January 2019) With the simultaneous resurgence in R-rated comedies and immersive gaming for adults, it’s not such a surprise that something like Game Night would emerge—a comedy aimed at adults, taking on the mind games of a what’s-real-and-what’s-not kind of entertainment. The plot has to do with a regularly scheduled “game night” between friends spinning out of control as mystery men burst in the house and take away a player. As the group enjoys figuring out the clues to find the kidnappers, there are plenty of warnings that the line between entertainment and real danger is thinner than they expect. What could easily have been a thriller is here presented as a dark comedy, with characters blithely walking in danger when they are expecting the safety net of an arranged scenario. The distinction is further blurred by showy cinematography far closer to off-beat thriller than flat comedy—it supports the gaming thematic by playing head games with the audience, bathing everything in shadows and even tilt-focusing the images so that we’re reminded of game board pieces. Jason Bateman typically anchors the cast by providing level-headed snark even as the other actors are left to go wild. Rachel McAdams is a good foil as his wife, while Jesse Plemons is perhaps a bit too good as a lonely neighbour trying to join the gaming group—his performance is a bit too unnerving for comfort. The result is surprisingly good, especially when compared to other R-rated films: while I would have toned down the violence, the result does manage to find the tricky balance inherent in any black comedy, and the result is highly entertaining to watch. It even finds that meta-balance between the safety net of a comedy/game and the tension of a thriller/crime. Making good use of trendy elements, Game Night is a bit of a surprise and a welcome one at that.

  • Pontypool (2008)

    Pontypool (2008)

    (On Cable TV, January 2019) It took me far too long to see the unusual Canadian horror film Pontypool, considering that it starts with a great setup for a zombie movie and then leaps into something much stranger. It doesn’t quite manage to deliver a satisfying ending, but at least it tries something unusual and does feature some great atmosphere along the way. It all starts with a radio shock jock (played with sufficient panache by Stephen McHattie) on the first day of his new job in a small Ontario town—driven out of the big markets thanks to some unspecified offence, he brings big-city attitude to a folksy community. The community has other plans than to listen patiently—before long, his intention to sleepwalk through yet another morning show is dashed by reports of violence within broadcasting range. Stuck in the confines of his studio with his manager and assistant, he tries to piece together a local story with global implications, and soon finds himself besieged by attackers behaving strangely like zombies. But not exactly zombies, as something far more bizarre is happening, something having to do with a word-based virus. By the end of the film, Pontypool plays with language and semiotics and the nature of reality itself. (Neal Stephenson’s Snow Crash even gets a visual shout-out.) If its sound ambitious and heady, it’s perhaps no surprise that the film disintegrates slightly toward the end, as it doesn’t quite manage to leap to that next level gracefully—and the post-credit sequence sort-of makes sense if you read about it, but feels cool-yet-awkward without considerable hand-holding. Director Bruce McDonald (working from a script by Tony Burgess adapting his own book) does manage quite a few nice things along the way, though—even by taking place essentially on one set, Pontypool creates an interesting fusion of Wolfman-Jack-meets-rural-Ontario, effectively cranks up the tension throughout the film and eventually delivers a conclusion of sorts, even though I wish the third act could have been rewritten, clarified and executed more persuasively. There are a lot of cool ideas here (the idea of English being “infected” while French isn’t could lead to the Great Politically Charged Canadian SF Novel considering the bilingual nature of the country, but that’s merely brushed upon here). Pontypool still comes up frequently in discussions of cinematic “gems you haven’t yet seen” and it’s easy to see why—even at a time when zombie-type movies are overexposed, this one still has a few things to say.

  • Flirting with Disaster (1996)

    Flirting with Disaster (1996)

    (On Cable TV, January 2019) Twenty-few years later, you could think that Flirting with Disaster would be worth a look solely for being an early vehicle for writer/director David O. Russell and a cast with more known names than is worth enumerating. But Russell’s script deliberately leans in the oddball direction (like most of his other movies, in fact) and so this quirky independent comedy soon takes us through the United States with a bunch of eccentric characters as the protagonist tries to find the identity of his biological parents. The plot is contrived, but that’s the nature of the thing. There are twists and turns, humiliating moments, some flirting for both married characters and a few false leads in the biological parent search. Ben Stiller, Patricia Arquette and Téa Leoni make up for a decent trio of leads, with decent supporting players in smaller roles. Mostly but not solely worth watching by Russell fans, Flirting with Disaster amounts to a quirky, amiable, decently entertaining film but not a particularly memorable one even despite its conscious decision to be off the wall.

  • Super Troopers 2 (2018)

    Super Troopers 2 (2018)

    (On Cable TV, January 2019) The Troopers are back for more silliness in Super Troopers 2, with the Broken Lizard comedy troupe offering more of their specific sense of humour. This time, nothing less than national sovereignty is at stake, as an old surveying error leads to the American border being repositioned to take up a slice of Canadian land. In the meantime, the disgraced Troopers are asked to set up a Highway Patrol outpost in the contested zone. While the plotting has a few moments (“passive smuggling” is a clever concept), the point of Super Troopers 2 is, once again, the low-brow humour milking the Trooper’s stupidity, propensity to pranks and overall sociopathy. Those who loved the first film will like the second, even though it feels more calculated and less funny than it could have been. As a Canadian viewer, I had a lot of fun with the various unflattering stereotypes and dumb jokes playing off the difference between the US and Canada—even if some of the details ring patently false. As a low-budget film, it’s best not to expect too much from the result, although director Jay Chandrasekhar does manage a few convincing set-pieces along the way. I suppose I could make a half-hearted cultural representation argument that few of the French-Canadian actors are played by French-Canadians, but I don’t even believe that to be a problem, especially not when steps in Rob Lowe and Emmanuelle Chriqui (who, upon verification, was actually born in Montréal). Super Troopers 2 is not meant to be watched for a nuanced take on cross-cultural issues when there are dumb jokes to be made, and the best we can say is that it’s definitely in the same vein as its predecessor, often funnier than the similar French-Canadian Bon Cop Bad Cop 2, and entertaining enough if you’re in the right mindset.