Reviews

  • The Dead 2: India (2013)

    The Dead 2: India (2013)

    (In French, On Cable TV, June 2021) Considering that the first film in The Dead series had an American protagonist fighting zombies in West Africa, it makes sense that the sequel would follow the series’ non-traditional setting by featuring an American character fighting zombies in India. In some ways, this sequel is better than the original — and in one significant aspect, it’s much worse. First, the good: I like the Indian setting a lot, and the protagonist’s dramatic arc in going to rescue his Indian girlfriend both lessens the impression of exoticism, while keeping the road-movie concept of the first film. The idea of making a kid out of the travel companion pays off quite well toward the end as well. The film feels more colourful, directed with a bit more assurance (although this may be due to the not-so-horrid production of the sequel as compared to the first film) and the protagonist’s job as an engineer takes us away from the tired cliché of having a soldier mowing down hordes of undead. But for all that The Dead 2 does well, it doesn’t quite manage to rise above much of the morass of featureless zombie films — take out the setting, and there’s not much left to distinguish it. As a result, it’s hard to get excited or even interested in the film as it plods forward. But the one thing that writers-directors Howard J. Ford and Jon Ford do badly comes toward the very end, as it dangles the possibility of a not-so-bad ending, then quickly snatches it away in a fit of nihilistic pique in order to do the exact same thing as far too many other zombie films. Too bad, because I almost came to like The Dead 2 in its optimistic period — taking that away feels a lot like making the entire thing pointless.

  • Supernova (2020)

    Supernova (2020)

    (On Cable TV, June 2021) This is the third film named Supernova in twenty years, and it’s easily the least science-fictional of them — the word here is used as a metaphor, considering that the story is about a couple reacting to decline and impending death. Colin Firth and Stanley Tucci are impeccable leads here, playing a likable couple of very creative individuals (one a concert pianist, the other a novelist) contemplating how their twenty years together are about to be changed by the inevitable cognitive decline of one of them. Quite a bit of the film plays like a road movie, as they embark in their RV and head north to meet old friends for one (last) get-together. A film of moments rather than overarching narrative, Supernova is an actor’s showcase, as both Firth and Tucci play against a thin plot and fill out the gaps. Questions of loss, grief and euthanasia inevitably rear their heads, and even the ending is far less dramatic than anyone would expect. Writer-director Harry Macqueen’s film is difficult to criticize, as he knows exactly what he’s going for, and no one wants to appear churlish for not liking the result. This being said, I strongly suspect that those who will get the most out of Supernova will be those looking to see Tucci and Firth at their best, and simply take in the atmosphere of a long-time couple facing the fact that each day from now on will be worse than the last. It’s a film to see for the silence between the lines of dialogue rather than the dialogue itself.

  • Zero Charisma (2013)

    Zero Charisma (2013)

    (On Cable TV, June 2021) Geekdom isn’t what it used to be a few decades ago: there are more things to be geeky about, different ways in which to express passion, and as a result the very concept of geekdom is (thankfully) becoming less meaningful. Everyone can find something to be passionate about, and when the mainstream itself has become profoundly geeky (just look at the yearly box-office Top-10), there’s a sense that the geeks have won. But Zero Charisma is not about a winning geek. It’s about a quasi-caricature of an old-school geek, unhealthily focused on tabletop role-playing games. When our protagonist is the Game Master, he lords over the dinner table: deciding the fate of the players, writing reams of material for the sole purpose of the gaming sessions. But it’s just about passion; otherwise, we may have had a likable lead. Oh no — this protagonist is an angry immature outcast, the kind of which will be traumatically familiar to anyone with an acquaintance with any local fandom. Much of Zero Charisma is spent demonstrating his shortcomings, especially when a far more socially adept player is invited in the gaming group and starts showing that there are other better ways to play. The social descent of the lead is rather amusing to watch, especially as he coerces others, blatantly lies, makes a series of entirely avoidable faux pas, and sees the externalities of his existence being cut off. The only problem is — what do you do afterwards for a climax? The Hollywood formula would see significant character evolution, leading to the protagonist emerging as a beautiful butterfly from the crucible. Alas, Zero Charisma’s writer-director Andrew Matthews drops the ball when it comes to its third act — Threats and physical aggression from the protagonist go unpunished, with one person rushing to his help as he beats up his “nemesis.”  Words are exchanged. Cut to the protagonist in a marginally better job, better mood and (by implication) a better situation — but there’s a whole act dropped here that makes the conclusion unearned and terrible behaviour rewarded. It’s more than enough to sour viewers on the entire film: it feels incomplete, and overly enamoured of its repellent protagonist. Sam Eidson’s performance as the deeply unpleasant lead is remarkable and perhaps a bit too good at times. But he can’t really save a script that doesn’t quite know how to wrap itself up. Too bad, because Zero Charisma does have the lingo down pat, and quite a few remarkable scenes along the way. But when it can’t bring it all up to a decent climax, much of it is for naught.

  • Kajillionaire (2020)

    Kajillionaire (2020)

    (On Cable TV, June 2021) I suppose that if you’re interested in quirky character-driven drama, Kajillionaire should be enough to make you happy. It’s not for everyone, though: Focusing on a family of small-time grifters multiplying elaborate schemes in search of two or three-figure payouts, it’s a film about serial schemers and liars, hardly the kind of person you’d like to meet (you’d be lucky to escape without your wallet — hopefully they don’t get your house keys). They are not normal people, and that’s especially apparent when it comes to the film’s lead, a twentysomething woman pretty far along the autism spectrum. Their miserable life does have a certain routine to it, but everything suddenly spins out of control when they befriend a young woman who seems curiously amenable to their lifestyle. For our protagonist, it’s a chance to grow up… but it’s not going to be easy. Anchored by Richard Jenkins and Debra Winger as the parents, the film is perhaps best served by its younger leads. While Gina Rodriguez looks great in an improbable series of close-fitting tops, it’s Evan Rachel Woods who impresses as the impassive, emotionless “Old Dolio” (the explanation eventually comes up) who has to get away from her exploitative, sociopathic parents. The narrative is self-consciously quirky to a fault, leading viewers a predefined plot that feels moved along by contrivances rather than organic developments. While the conclusion satisfies, it’s largely because we won’t have to spend one more single minute with these people. Writer/director Miranda July is clearly after something specific and deliberate here, but it’s not going to be for everyone.

  • The Kid Detective (2020)

    The Kid Detective (2020)

    (On Cable TV, June 2021) As someone who likes deconstructive fiction, there’s an immediate hook in the challenge that The Kid Detective sets up for itself: Take a contrived literary archetype (the kid detective, solving petty crime in idyllic small-town America) and send it crashing into reality. Twenty years after his heyday, the bright kid detective has become the laughingstock of the community, still with an office where “Kid” has been removed and fed jejune cases by concerned citizens. There’s some darkness in the interval as well: the community not liking the truth that a detective can bring up; culprits angry at having been caught; and most of all, the disappearance of his best friend, a case still unsolved after two decades. As we catch up with the boy hero (played by Adam Brody), he’s a substance-abusing, self-loathing, waste of genius — still in his hometown, not having evolved much in the interim. But as with all fallen heroes, the chance to redeem himself comes up when a young woman asks him to work a new case: a murder. What follows is a small-town detective story with plenty of small surprises and tweaks at a familiar formula. The ending is just as twisted as the rest of the picture, with a huge victory not leading to much more than a mental breakdown. Writer-director Evan Morgan does really well, with a tone similar-but-different to films such as Brick. Decent dialogue, good sequences, small laughs and an ending that’s not quite easy are all there to keep our interest up and engaged. The Kid Detective quickly goes from “what a quirky concept” to something much more satisfying.

  • The Tomorrow Man (2019)

    The Tomorrow Man (2019)

    (On Cable TV, June 2021) There’s something half-clever in the conceit at the heart of The Tomorrow Man if you see it as a romantic comedy of sorts — the opposition between a doomsday prepper and a borderline hoarder. It works even better considering that John Lithgow (a master of implicit comedy, helped by a refusal to go manic) and Blythe Danner (as attractive now as ever) headline the film and can easily earn sympathy even when playing flawed characters. The prepper mindset carries a certain topicality, but it’s clear that, as the film digs into the tortured psyche of its characters, it has more to do with a certain kind of paranoia than a current-events commentary. I have to admit that I’ve got a certain innate sympathy for Lithgow’s character here — I’m maybe twenty-five years, one mental breakdown and one tumble down the conspiracy cliff away from him. As an elderly romance (both actors are in their mid-70s), The Tomorrow Man is cute and rather straightforward once a few initial mysteries are resolved. It does have its clunky moments, some at the beginning (it’s not clear why she doesn’t view him as an alarming stalker) and many more at the end (with some idiot plotting, unearned changes of opinion and unsatisfying developments). But writer/director Noble Jones is going for something a bit difficult to full define, perhaps because the script so often slips and falls. The ending sequence, which throws the film in a somewhat different genre simply for the sake of a good ironic joke, is a bit like that: Sure, it’s a surprise, but does it fit? Does it finalize the character’s journey, or does it negate it? As I’ve said: half-clever. Halfway there, but not there. Maybe tomorrow.

  • Anthem of a Teenage Prophet (2018)

    Anthem of a Teenage Prophet (2018)

    (On Cable TV, June 2021) There’s a weird genre shift in Anthem of a Teenage Prophet that defies expectations — specifically genre viewers’ expectations. A low-budget, gray-and-grainy small-town kind of film, it’s resolutely as unglamorous and un-glossy as filmmaking can be. The characters live in a dreary reality, and that does double for our protagonist, a drug-addled teenager who, one night, predicts with uncanny accuracy the fatal accident that will claim the life of his best friend the following day. There are witnesses, and they’re quick to herald him as “the prophet of death,” leading to all sorts of unwanted attention and resentment. But whereas genre viewers could expect greater development of this psychic ability, Anthem of a Teenage Prophet remains in a resolutely pseudo-realistic mode — focusing on the low-down drama of the protagonist’s situation rather than exploring his paranormal powers. Whatever premonition flashes he gets usually lead to more trouble, especially when he gets visions of another friend killing himself. It’s not badly made once you get used to its naturalistic approach, but it can be more trying than expected for those wanting more. Cameron Monaghan leads the cast, with Peyton List providing good support as the dead friend’s girlfriend as the two grow closer. The 1990s atmosphere is not particularly overdone, with Director Robin Hays clearly going for more intimate goals. On the one hand — good on Anthem of a Teenage Prophet for doing the unexpected. On the other hand — why waste so much potential?

  • The Dead (2010)

    The Dead (2010)

    (In French, On Cable TV, June 2021) In the zombie subgenre, you can either distinguish yourself through ideas and plotting or through setting. The Dead clearly chooses the second option, as it sets a familiar zombie film template in West Africa, trading the over-familiar urban landscapes of the west for the sun-drenched savannahs. Much of the film is a personal odyssey, as an American military engineer travels to a location where he hopes to be reunited with his son and find a plane back to the United States. Plot-wise, there’s nothing all that interesting here — the odyssey set against a post-apocalyptic backdrop is familiar, with enough sand to make us think about westerns. The rather nihilistic ending makes the entire thing feel pointless, and there simply isn’t enough in the moment-to-moment rhythm of the film to keep us invested. This is where the setting takes over — The Dead was possibly unique in setting a zombie film in rural Africa at the time of its production, and the film plays everything as straight as possible without much in terms of comedy or self-awareness. It’s hardly perfect—surely, I can’t be the only one uncomfortable at the sight of a white American being under siege from black zombies?—but it does distinguish itself in a crowded subgenre. The Dead’s production history was wild enough (as in: Rob Freeman nearly dying from malaria) to warrant a book titled Surviving the Dead from writer-director Howard J. Ford, which does bring to mind the thought — is this a film anyone would like to die for? The result is thoroughly mediocre — not badly made, but not particularly good either.

  • Fall Girls (2019)

    Fall Girls (2019)

    (On TV, June 2021) I have a soft spot for BET channel original films — they don’t always aim high, but the diversity of characters is often interesting by itself, and the actresses often look really nice. With Fall Girls, we have the feeling that the premise comes from the melted components of roughly a dozen films. The opening moments have four women (three of them friends, one of them definitely not) heading to Las Vegas to live it up with their soon-to-be-retiring boss. But after a night of (what else?) wild debauchery, they wake up in a trashed hotel room, with their boss dead. Fans of The Hangover and Girls Trip (to name only two) can rest easy, because now comes Weekend at Bernie’s to take over as guiding light, as the four lead characters fake their way into making everyone believe that their boss is still alive and hanging with them… even to those who killed her. After that, the plot goes off in all directions, what with the one-night stand that ends up being more than that, corporate rivalry gone hot, female bonding comedy, and a concluding thirty seconds crammed with more crosses, double-crosses and triple-crosses than an entire cathedral. There’s even some stylistic flair from time to time, at least more than is the norm for BET originals. Fall Girls stops making any sense well before the end, but the conclusion springs a patently impossible new technology as a way to explain an unexplainable plot — just to give you an idea about how little writer-director Chris Stokes actually cares about us caring. Still, it’s not without its moments. Amara La Negra looks good despite some shaky line readings, and there are a few chuckle-worthy moments. The ending is so over-the-top that it gathers some admiration for audacity, if not any compliments for plausibility. Fall Girls may not be great art, but it’s middling fun and that’s really what I was expecting.

  • Kyuketsuki Gokemidoro [Goke, Body Snatcher From Hell] (1968)

    Kyuketsuki Gokemidoro [Goke, Body Snatcher From Hell] (1968)

    (On Cable TV, June 2021) The more I see of 1960s Japanese Science Fiction, the more I’m becoming oddly fond of its utter lunacy. In Goke, Body Snatcher from Hell, for instance, a catastrophe movie premise (among a backdrop of increased UFO activity, a plane crash-lands in a deserted area, creating tension among its passengers) shifts to horror (as a space vampire starts sucking dry some of the passengers) and then off to cosmic science fiction (as he’s an alien vampire and the aliens have destroyed most of the planet anyway). Technically, director Hajime Sato’s film is rough: Not simply its special effects, but dialogue, direction and audio/visual quality as well — the colour cinematography is bright and colourful (well, as much as a film largely set at night can be) and the images are strong, which excuses all sorts of other issues. (Many critics have compared the film to Italian giallo, which is not at all inappropriate.)  But it’s the go-for-broke craziness that takes centre stage: there are, admittedly, many lulls and repetitive moments, but when the film gets crazy, it does get crazy in ways that western films (thankfully?) don’t always do. It’s just loopy enough to negate any downer feeling that the strong antiwar theme and bleak conclusion may create: after so much colourful looniness, it’s not a mere trifle like the end of humanity that’s going to stop Goke, Body Snatcher From Hell from feeling all sorts of outrageous.

  • Dead Cert (2010)

    Dead Cert (2010)

    (In French, On Cable TV, June 2021) It takes a special kind of skill to screw up a film about gangsters battling vampires in the London Underground, but there you have Dead Cert to show you that anything’s possible. Inert and dull, writer-director Steven Lawson’s film seems badly conceived in the first place, and ineptly executed at the filmmaking stage. The film starts largely in gangster mode, as two mobsters vie for control of whatever they obsess about. But when the vampiric content starts popping up, the biggest surprise isn’t one of the genres clashing, but of bewilderment at how this isn’t more exciting. Instead, East European villains strut around ineffectively with pointy teeth, as the film barely works itself up to a finale with pulse. There are obvious comparisons to be made between Dead Cert and From Dusk till Dawn, but they all end up harming Dead Cert: Cheaply made, poorly conceived and never effective, this is a film that shows an impressive gift for mishandling all the assets at its disposal. You get, at most, a few cute vampire girls… but it’s not as if you can’t get those in other movies.

  • Nobody’s Fool (2018)

    Nobody’s Fool (2018)

    (On Cable TV, June 2021) My ongoing effort to watch Tyler Perry’s filmography took a strange turn with Nobody’s Fool. Just as I was thinking I had a handle on Perry’s approach (a pedestrian, PG-rated paean to traditional values as filtered through the black American experience), here comes a film that opens with a lascivious midriff shot and features Tiffany Haddish loudly rutting in the back of a pickup to conclude the film’s opening moments. Yes — upon verification, Nobody’s Fool is Perry’s first R-rated feature, and one that is associated with a major studio (Paramount) and with better-known actors (notably Haddish, but also Whoopi Goldberg, and a showy one-scene wonder by Chris Rock). In other words — this isn’t your usual Perry film, and Haddish’s typically exuberant presence almost bends the gravity of the production toward her. As a result, Nobody’s Fool often feels unbalanced: While Tika Sumpter does her best to lead the cast as a no-nonsense urban professional, Haddish steals every scene and is more often than not where all of the film’s R-rating material comes from. If she feels like an intrusion in Perry’s usually more mannered world, that’s probably not by accident. (Once I know more about Perry’s filmography, I’ll be able to confirm a suspicion — that her role in this film is not dissimilar to the studious transgression that Perry allows himself when playing Madea.)  It’s all interesting, but not quite enough to make the film successful. While there are bits and pieces of good ideas here (most notably its blend of rehabilitation, romantic comedy, and catfishing-or-not mystery), they don’t quite gel together satisfyingly. There’s a notable amount of idiot plotting going on, contrived to maintain suspense for far too long, followed by an obvious narrative cheat in resolving a romantic triangle by showing how one partner is suddenly completely unsuitable in the bedroom. Almost as if the film had no interest whatsoever in honestly resolving its own tension. Considering that Nobody’s Fool doesn’t have much in terms of stylistic execution, another rewrite would have been really helpful.

  • Son in Law (1993)

    Son in Law (1993)

    (In French, On Cable TV, June 2021) Pauly Shore wreaks havoc on a Midwestern family farm in Son in Law, a thinly justified comedy in which Shore brings his dubious brand of immature humour to a quasi-idyllic vision of rural America. It sort-of-works depending on your tolerance for the shortcuts of Hollywood comedies of the time and for his antics. (If you don’t, you’re in good company: Shore’s best-known filmography spans six films in four years from 1992 to 1996, after which his career focuses on a shockingly high proportion of “Himself” cameos.) The fish-out-of-water conceit has Shore as a mellow older California student coming back home to accompany our heroine (a young Carla Gugino doing her best to play dull Midwestern) for Thanksgiving. Once on the farm, it’s up to Shore to goof around, wreck machinery, flatten crops and upset the locals with his uber-dude South-Cali archetype that, strangely, seems completely alien to a community apparently bereft of television or movies. While the film nods toward harmony and bridging the urban/rural divide, there’s a heavy dose of condescension to the way it brings California values to flyover country. It’s often exasperating, and that’s even with a decent performance by Lane Smith as the patriarch of the farm. There may be a few chuckles buried here and there in Son in Law, but it’s not much consolation for the bouts of irritation that regularly come from the material and Shore’s abrasive performance.

  • Dersu Uzala (1975)

    Dersu Uzala (1975)

    (On Cable TV, June 2021) Writer-director Akira Kurosawa goes Russian in Dersu Uzala, a film largely shot on location in far-eastern Russia, just across the sea from Kurosawa’s Japan. At a typically overlong 144 minutes, the film gets to spend a lot of time in the wilderness, as it details the friendship between a young urbane captain exploring the region on behalf of the government and an older native hunter who guides them through the territory. Thematically, the film is a lengthy meditation on the encroachment of civilization over nature, or the ways through which humans can choose to either beat back nature or make accommodations. Accordingly, Dersu Uzala has many, many nature shots — although I was disappointed at the quality of the result, especially knowing that the film was shot in 70 mm. Maybe it’s time for a restoration… or maybe the negatives are just that bad. Still, there’s plenty to see over the film’s running time: The sequence with the tiger alone is still really effective. It all builds to a very melancholic conclusion that doesn’t offer much comfort, but keeps developing its themes until the very end. If my appreciation for Dersu Uzala is limited, it’s for the same reasons why I’m cool to many of Kurosawa’s lesser-known features — well designed, but overlong and archly executed in a way that makes it unbearably heavy. This isn’t to take away from the artistic merits of it, but to comment on how effective they are at reaching this specific viewer.

  • Presenting Lily Mars (1943)

    Presenting Lily Mars (1943)

    (On Cable TV, June 2021) I’m resigned to the fact that I’ll end up seeing Presenting Lily Mars a few more times in my life — not because it’s good, not because it’s bad, but because it’s so utterly generic. I will forget all about it and then grow curious enough to watch it again. Hence this review as a warning to myself. Stop me if you’ve heard this one before, classic movie fans: Small-town girl goes to Broadway, where she catches her break and becomes a star. Even saying that Judy Garland stars in the film doesn’t help narrow it all that much. Fortunately, the film itself is not bad even in its utter genericity: the usually likable Van Heflin co-stars, and the film eventually works itself up to a big musical finale to the tune of “Broadway Rhythm.”  Much of the film was tailored for Garland, intending to smooth her transition from child star to adult actress with a coming-of-age story beginning with a small-town girl and ending with a Broadway star. Mid-1940s is probably my favourite Garland era, and Presenting Lily Mars is a clear demonstration of why. As for the rest, it’s a familiar film both in form and function — not much removed from the Broadway Melody films, or any of the near-countless movie musicals that used a rise to Broadway stardom as their narrative engine. Heflin and Garland do bring something extra for their fans, but otherwise this is the same song-and-dance — which is admittedly very watchable.