David Gordon Green

  • Halloween Kills (2021)

    (On Cable TV, April 2022) I’m done with slashers, done with Halloween movies, done with endless meaningless remakes of the same garbage that was repellent in the first place. Middle instalment of what’s threatened to be a three-film final trilogy, Halloween Kills picks up moments after 2018’s Halloween reboot (the third, sixth or tenth such reboot, depending on how you count – and I’m not even including the incomparable Season of the Witch in that higher number) to show what else happened on that Halloween night. This time, the focus thankfully shifts a bit from the psycho killer to the citizens of the town he’s terrorizing, leading to the film’s best bits (I use the term loosely) as vigilante justice ends up being almost as frightening as the nut with a knife. Alas, writer-director David Gordon Green flirts but does not commit to a more grounded and ironic take – boogeyman Michael Myers is just as supernaturally immortal here, and any attempt at social commentary on mob justice is immediately undone by the film’s gleeful slaughter of its victims in so-called inventive and gory ways. I thought I would have been disturbed by the death of a returning character played by an actress I quite like, but that would presume that I had any attachment whatsoever. The truth is that any character in any Halloween movie is mere meat to be butchered in the quest for cheap thrills. Jamie Lee Curtis once again plays a survivor and gamely commits to the role, but at this point – who cares? The next instalment is supposed to be a conclusion of sorts but we all know what that means: Impervious to bullets, guns and nuclear explosions, Myers can only be killed by poor box-office returns.

  • Halloween (2018)

    Halloween (2018)

    (On Cable TV, June 2019) You can take the opening sequence of this Halloween remake as a summary of its strengths and weaknesses in a nutshell—a sequence giving us suspense in broad daylight, maxing out the spooky stuff, but ultimately signifying nothing and ending in mid-air with nothing achieved. A lot of sound a fury signifying nothing—if you’re not the kind of person who enjoys slasher movies and would go as far as to say that this kind of film should be left in the dustbin of history, then this newest endless umpteenth version of Halloween is not going to change your mind. For all of director David Gordon Green’s skill in crafting suspense sequences that have a little bit more to offer, there is nothing here to make us rethink the staleness of the genre’s approach. The crazy-prepared shtick by Jamie Lee Curtis is fun but doesn’t lead anywhere new. The psychologist indulging in some of that murderous mayhem is merely a five-minute detour that other movies have explored at length. The transgenerational trauma is presented as new but was seen in H20 already. To be fair, this Halloween far better than the Rob Zombie movies that no one wants to acknowledge, better than H20 and better than the fourth-to-sixth ones. (Halloween III exists in another dimension, and I tend to consider Halloween II to be an extension of the first) Curtis is magnificent in a role that a lot of actresses her age would have killed for, Judy Greer is far better used in comedies (although she does get a good gotcha moment at the end), while Andi Matichak is undistinguishable as the granddaughter. Still, there isn’t much here to make us think any better about slashers in general—it feels as if all of this Halloween’s ideas are cribbed from previous instalments in the series itself, with only a patina of good execution to keep things afloat.

  • Our Brand is Crisis (2015)

    Our Brand is Crisis (2015)

    (On Cable TV, July 2016) As a political junkie (with acute flare-ups in election years like this one), I’m perhaps more enthusiastic than most at the thought of movies seeing political operatives as heroes. Our Brand is Crisis (adapted from a true story) follows a group of American consultants as they are hired to help during a Bolivian election pitting a few bad choices against each other. But it’s not just candidates battling it out when the operatives have their own grudges to nurse against each other. In South American politics, nearly all tricks are allowed, and so much of the movie is spent following the twists and turns of the campaign as the consultants try to outwit each other. It sounds fun, it should have been hilarious and somehow … isn’t. Too contemplative to deserve a full “black comedy” qualification, Our Brand is Crisis falls short of the potential it had set up for itself. It’s also remarkably pat, as if it didn’t know about the audience’s political sophistication. Oh, so your candidate lies, cheats, won’t hold his promises and is widely disliked? Well, start with that rather than lead up to it, or be shocked when it happens. Otherwise, there seems to be a distinct lack of energy in David Gordon Green’s execution of the material, or maybe a dearth of substance itself. Sticking too close to the true story may have been a mistake. At least Sandra Bullock is enjoyable as a genius-level political consultant reluctantly dragged into the mud of a campaign once again. (She’s particularly funny early on, not so much afterwards.) Billy Bob Thornton gives her capable repartee as a longtime rival, while Anthony Mackie, Zoe Kazan (captivating in a woefully underdeveloped character) and Joaquim de Almeida are serviceable supporting players. Still, Our Brand is Crisis doesn’t reach its full potential and mishandles its ending by being far too falsely outraged after its own shenanigans. Just as there have been plenty of movies about political consultants, others are sure to follow. But it may be a good moment for newer and fresher narratives than “protagonists discover that their candidate is terrible” and “protagonists contemplate the damage they’ve done to democracy” because those have been done enough times already.

  • Joe (2013)

    Joe (2013)

    (On Cable TV, December 2015)  By now, a substantial number of critics have almost given up on Nicolas Cage: Despite a quasi-legendary filmography, Cage seems to have lately retreated in a succession of dull roles in low-budget exploitation films that don’t give him any chance to stretch as an actor.  (His purported problems with the IRS may have something to do with this “grab any paycheck” phase.)  Where is the formerly-great Cage?  Fortunately, Joe may tide a few pundits for a while, given how it’s easily Cage’s best role in years.  Fully bearded and dispensing with his usual nouveau-shamanic acting tics in favor of a much more restrained approach, Cage plays an ex-con with anger issues, making a meager living in a small Texas town where he has complicated relationships with the police, an ex-wife, old enemies and recurring flings.  Joe’s life changes when he meets a teenager made wise beyond his years due to his father’s abuse.  Becoming an unlikely role model to the young man, Joe has to choose how deeply he should involve himself in his affairs.  But Cage isn’t the only one redeeming himself with Joe: Director David Gordon Green also goes back to more respectable roots after a detour in dumb comedies.  Other good performances abound: Tye Sheridan is once again remarkable, while non-actor Gary Poulter gets a great role as an abusive father.  The result is slow-paced, meditative, almost oppressive in its low-class small-town atmosphere, but it’s respectable and poignant, definitely the kind of movies that Cage should be doing more often.