Jena Malone

  • Antebellum (2020)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, July 2022) There’s no frustration quite like giving a disappointed review to a film that has its social conscience at the right place. It’s repulsive that we would need a full-throated denunciation of the evils of American slavery in 2022, but, well; here we are. Given this, the opening moments of Antebellum pack a punch, graphically portraying plantation slavery and then revealing that a modern, well-educated black woman is among the slaves. It’s after that strong opening that the film goes into a tailspin. Much of the problem is that, beyond a provocative premise, the film runs out of plot very quickly—Antebellum is a Twilight Zone episode stretched over 115 minutes, and the hollowness of its execution quickly becomes apparent as it moves to the “modern” day and spends far too much time establishing irrelevant subplots and characters. It doesn’t help that the script can’t follow up its premise with something interesting—it takes the cheapest, least imaginative road to its conclusion. Antebellum being a black horror story, it goes without saying that the white characters are irremediably, cartoonishly evil here—even if Jena Malone does have an interesting role as Queen Racist. Never mind the practicalities of their plan! Janelle Monáe is good within the confines of her role, while Gabourey Sidibe is tremendously fun to watch but plays a useless character. Antebellum cheapens its most distasteful moments by having nowhere to go—when so much of the film doesn’t have a reason for existing, it becomes much harder to justify the exploitation of its most striking moments—especially by the time the third act rolls round. There are about a dozen more interesting, substantial and wittier directions the film could have gone, but in the end, it retreats to cheap shots, empty empowerment slogans, excruciatingly executed obviousness and filler material for more than half its length. Much to my dismay, Antebellum is a thriller that should have been science fiction, or a film that should have been an episode, or knee-jerk cheap horror that should have been nuanced systemic drama—anything but what it is right now.

  • Lorelei (2020)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, May 2022) The only thing better than a film that doesn’t go where you expect it to is a film that delivers a humane message in a genre that doesn’t often have them. In Lorelei’s opening minutes, viewers may think they’re in familiar territory as a tough guy (a credible Pablo Schreiber) is released from prison after a fifteen-year stint, and gradually labours to re-integrate into the community. If you’ve seen ex-con films before, you know the scenes: A less-than-sympathetic parole officer, old criminal acquaintances welcoming him back, a quick physical get-together with an old girlfriend (Jena Malone), a hard-headed boss reluctantly willing to give a chance to a parolee, but on the condition that if they make one mistake, then they’re out. The stakes are raised but not altered once our protagonist moves in with his ex/new girlfriend and starts taking care of her kids. At that point, we think we know where Lorelei is going: the temptation of an easy buck, a shady enterprise, a slight mistake, the cops closing in on someone who now has much to lose… but that’s not at all what happens. Our protagonist, despite a tough exterior and some mistakes along the way, proves to be quite a good step-father. The third act gets going when she leaves him with the kids, taking the film in a most unusual territory. The mini quest that forms the bulk of the film’s last minutes ends on a touch of grace that elevates the rest of a rather gritty working-class drama. The atmosphere of people living at the edge of poverty is rendered well, even if the script and dialogue can be rough at times. Still, Lorelei becomes quite a bit better than what you could expect from its opening minutes. It’s a modest success for writer-director Sabrina Doyle, and it’s going to be interesting to see what she does next.

  • The Neon Demon (2016)

    The Neon Demon (2016)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, December 2016) Had The Neon Demon been my first Nicolas Winding Refn film, I would have been furious at the downbeat fuzzy-plot nature of the movie. (Or maybe not—over the past few years, I’ve grown remarkably tolerant of movies that don’t put plot first.) But after Drive and most specifically Only God Forgives, I think I’ve learned to put Refn in a box alongside David Lynch: Visually spectacular movies with interesting set pieces but not necessarily a plot worth caring about. Expectation thus tempered, I was able to tolerate much of The Neon Demon without too much trouble … although, if scratched, I will admit that there’s a frustrating quality to the way The Neon Demon gets so close to having an intelligible story (fantastic or allegoric?), only to throw its chance away in a fit of artiness. In five-minute segments, though, the film is tolerable as it tracks the story of a new girl trying to make it in Hollywood. A fable about the exploitation of bodies in image-obsessed Los Angeles, The Neon Demon doesn’t try to stake out new ideas, but it does feature stylist cinematography, grotesque jumps into horror and an overall atmosphere of beautiful dread. Elle Fanning is OK as the deer-in-a-headlight protagonist, but Jena Malone steals her scenes as a makeup-artist-by-day, lesbian-necrophiliac-vampire-by-night. (Or is she?) Keanu Reeves memorably shows up as a menacing presence. Still, it’s Refn’s work as a visual stylist that remains most notable here and is most likely to remain in mind even as the insubstantial story wafts away unwanted. The Neon Demon is not for everyone (Even after the acclaimed Drive, Refn seems resolutely uninterested in mainstream appeal), but at least I’ll concede that it felt slightly less irrelevant as Only God Forgives.

  • In Our Nature (2012)

    In Our Nature (2012)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2014) I’m not necessarily adverse to slow-moving character-based dramas in isolated locations featuring a handful of actors, but I like it a bit better when the characters are sympathetic and when there’s at least a bit of a dramatic arc to the bickering. In Our Nature has the benefit of a neat self-constrained premise, as an estranged father and son accidentally end up with their girlfriends at the family’s nature retreat due to a scheduling mishap. Forced to spend some time together, they all end up arguing, making up, saying terrible things to each other, experiencing nature and maybe (just maybe) gain some understanding of each other. This kind of thing is a natural actor’s showcase, and so it is a treat to see John Slattery, Gabrielle Union, Jena Malone and Zach Gilford get to exert some thespian muscles. Slattery doesn’t get very far from his Mad Men character and Zach Gilford labour under the constraints of a spoiled, unlikable character, so it’s up to Union and Malone to deliver the most interesting performances despite smaller roles. The film has a slow and somewhat amiable pacing: despite the remarkable location, there isn’t much to be done here than take advantage of the setting and let the characters talk. A few good ideas about estrangement and life are to be found in the mix, and for moviegoers who usually specialize in genre fiction, there’s something refreshing about a film that takes place in (often awkward) conversations, where the big action highlights are falling from a kayak and seeing a cub bear rummage through a kitchen. But there’s a limit to how much plotlessness even indie dramas can sustain, and once In Our Nature is over, it’s hard to avoid thinking that the film has plenty of loose ends, ideas left unexplored and the changes in the relationships by the end of the film are so subtle as to be insignificant. Is it a change of pace from Hollywood’s usual spectacle of overblown emotions? Of course. Is it satisfying from a moviegoer’s perspective? Not entirely.