"Dead of Winter" - Review

Recently widowed Barb (a rather game Emma Thompson) heads to a frozen lake in the Canadian wildnerness to scatter her husband's ashes. She comes across a crime in progress, as a woman in a purple coat (Judy Greer) and a man in a camouflage coat (Marc Menchaca) have stashed a bound woman (Laurel Marsden, no relation to James) in their cabin. Unwilling to let surely bad things happen to this girl, but with no special skills outside of tenacity and age, Barb does battle with the pair.

(Photo credit: thefutureoftheforce.com Fucking websites not using fucking JPGs, bastard piece of shit internet, fuck it)
A fairly solid thriller, all things considered. It's not going to set the world on fire (hah!) and doesn't exactly reinvent he wheel - but it doesn't have to. It's a tight enough fare (through it loses steam in the cellar in act 3), with lovely scenescapes, good use of flashbacks, and a focus on the nitty-gritty survival elements like soaking clothes in a sink to screw with people, and how actually bloody difficult would be to sew up one's own wounds. I like that the protagonists are ordinary people (Barb has twinges in her back, people slip over and drop things in fight scenes, for example), there's no "secret military background" or crowbarred tangent: it feels natural and fun and a touch of class. It's a nice, simple movie and a quirky change of pace for Thompson, who's really good in this.

"Honey, Don't!" - Autopsy

Freed from the shackles of his (now evidently more talented) brother, an aging filmmaker (Ethan Coen) indulges in lesbian fetish pornography, with a somehow worse plot, at the age of 68, under the guise of "trashy" cinema, insulting such sensibilities and betraying his origins as a poser in the process.

(Photo Credit: Fort Lauderdale film festival)
I think some would argue that having the credits be done to The Animals' "We Gotta Get Outta this Place" was the 2nd alarm bell for this movie (I will not say that I am too big a person to make a joke about the first being the title, nobody is above that. I will not change), and the shit show we are about to see, but I would argue that it is the 3rd: the 2nd was in fact the opening shots being a dead woman in a car, then lingering, leering, tongue-drooling slathering of a camera upon a scantily dressed Frenchwoman in leopard print, before a gratuitous full frontal bathing shot in a river and then further closeups of her dresing in leopard print before strutting away. That was effectively a fucking clarion bell for what followed.
A hollow, empty facsimile of a film, devoid of any heart, warmth or understanding of the genres it pillages in this quest for titillation. Attempting to be a throwback to "private eye" movies, replete with what the filmmaker clearly thought was witty rapport, but instead is smug, stilted and feeling like a 1st year film student's take on Raymond Chandler or the Coen Brothers; the central mystery aims for quirk and complexity, but instead stumbles and fumbles its way through like Zach Braff with basic structure. Events are random, unconnected, and strung together with the elegance of inserting Zach Snyder hagiography at a funeral - scenes are overtightened, cut short, and for every good transition (I like one involving a ceiling fan to a pool, and another I can't remember) or cute shot (I liked the sunspots in the Frenchwoman's sunglasses, once the camera was done oggling her on a sun lounger) there is a desperate sense of throwing scenes on the page, never letting them breathe, simply hopping sporadically and frantically from one plot cul-de-sac to another.
Kind of like a Coen Brothers movie, funnily enough, but with none of the charm, the wit, or good writing and tension.

It's quite frankly an embarrasing showing (more so than this blog, honestly) as characters throw out "pithy" one lines and exchanges, but are less people and more vessels for whatever the writers thought would "sound film noir" in the moment. Thus it sounds stilted, and the miscasting of Qualley (side note: she fucking rules in "The Substance", watch that three times instead of this!) as a "hard bitten sassy lesbian detective" doesn't help, coming across more as a "highschool roleplay" than anything else (don't let the makers read that, unless they get ideas... Jesus fucking Christ) as try as she might with the awful material being given, it never rises above "quoting something and thinking it is a pastiche or homage". But when they have her march into a bar to finger Aubrey Plaza on a bar stool, and have 2 sex scenes with her and her pierced nipples? You'd better believe that they are interested in the character then...

The makers wish to be "fun throwback trash" but don't write plots, characters or people of interest or note first: thus when we're expected to "put that to the side and enjoy the sex scenes" it doesn't feel like trashy cinema, it feels gross. All of the best exploitation cinema (I am a fucking connoisseur of that shit, trust me) and stuff unfairly maligned for sexy, topless parts, at least remembers to have plots or characters or moments where people are allowed to emote and act, not roughly strung together scenes, not a mystery which solves itself off screen and with no intervention from the detective (aside from flirting with the perpetrator at a cross roads whilst she's dressed in a scarf, knee high boots and a robe, and little else). But we have sex scenes! We have those! There are 5 scenes of fucking, and a dreadful recurring "gag" wasting Charlie Day on hitting on the lead, so that we can see that she is very much into girls, you see, because (despite all of the lesbianism), she's very much a lesbian, you see?

This gives us a mystery movie with a dull mystery and no interest in showing detective work (aside from the lead discovering a set of fetish-wear), a quirky movie not interested in telling jokes, a character piece which gives little for the characters to do, and then has the gall to tack on a serial killer story at the end, wrap it up briefly and have a throwback to a kill in "Miller's Crossing" but with none of the impact or humour.
Reading it back makes me sound like I'm averse to lesbians or a prude of some sort, and because our critical landscape is fucked more than Margaret Qualley in this backwards arse movie, some may read into that. I am CRAVING some diversity in cinema, and we've made a lot of progress, hell this is progress! Lesbians too can have their worst fucking pervy shit detective movies, shadows of creativity and empty "homages" to better detective throwbacks, just as the boys can! We've done it! We've achieved equality!

Equality at last! Just make sure that you forget the almost entirely white cast (at least "Drive Away Dolls" has the ever-wonderful Geraldine Viswanathan in a leading role) and don't focus on the writing, editing, plotting or humour. We made it kids!
Oh, and another thing, a coda to this:

(Last one, I swear)
The film is confused about what it's aping and what it's paying tribute to. When you make a throwback to trash, you make "Toxic Avenger: Unrated" or "Manborg" or "Clown in a Cornfield", or if you're making a detective film you put a spin on it (think "Brick", "Vengeance" or "The Nice Guys"): you come into MY FUCKING HOUSE, you make a film which understands the genres its doing, aesthetics aren't enough. The surface level always needs more. As refreshing as it is to see the film fail on its own merits of bad writing, it's still kind of a bummer to see Ethan Coen behind it. Even the worst Coen Brothers movie ("The Ladykillers", a fairly uncontroversial pick I feel) is merely "fine" (it doesn't feel Coen Brothers-y, and doesn't come close to the original Ealing Classic) and stands head and shoulders above this. A baffling misfire. Jesus fucking Christ.
Chris Evans was fun.

"The Long Walk" - Review

In another, similar time, in another, similar place: 50 boys sign up for "The Long Walk". An arduous march across America, where the last one standing receives any prize they desire: all televised for the country, inspiring them to greater productivity with this display of strength, endurance and hope! Of course, like any fair contest, there are rules: do not drop below a certain number of paces, do not deviate from the path, and if you violate again after 3 warnings? You punch your ticket. Entering the contest is Ray Garraty (Cooper Hoffman), who has his eyes on the prize. He walks, walks and walks, meeting the other walkers, learning their stories, but never taking his eyes off the prize, no matter what happens...

(Photo Credit: Polygon. Apologies for not doing this for so long, my brain is all over the shop)
I read the novel (written in 1979, Jesus H Christ...) by Stephen King years ago, and it imagery and characters still remain jammed in my mind (I think most nerds got through his backlog as teenagers) all these years later. I was pleased and pleasantly surprised to see that this is effectively almost verbatim the book, and most enjoyable at that since I don't even find the book the strongest of the Bachman works, let alone King's ouvre.
A resonant, rich character piece, with the stark horror (hah, that's a Bachman pun...) and a fine script by JT Mollner. We get to know these walkers, their lives, peppered across some excellent visual storytelling by Francis Lawrence (burnt out cars across the desolate landscape, mentions of "the great war", a very retro setting making the time period ambiguous) which I really respect. Standout performers are Ben Wang as Olson (the shit-talking Bronx kid doing an excellent John Magaro in "Overlord" impression), Charlie Plummer as Barkovitch (the antagonistic unhinged dickbag) and particularly, getting much rightful praise once again, David Jonsson as McVries. It tackles how we approach death, resistance in all of its forms, solace and hope in the face of adversity, and moves across the emotional spectrum pretty fluidly. It's excellent stuff, a pleasant (if grim and dystopian) surprise with an excellent anti-fascist bent and a delightful scenery-devouring Mark Hamill.

"Tornado" - Review

In the year 1790, across the ribbon of cold moors known as "Scotland", a young Japanese woman named Tornado (Koki) performs in a travelling puppet show with her father Fujin (Takehiro Hira), rebellious and chafing against his authority. When they cross paths with a ruthless gang of bandits led by "Sugarman" (Tim Roth), Tornado's world becomes the namesake of her name and against a backdrop none-too-removed from her family's shows, and she is forced to become a whirlwind across the landscape just to survive.

(Photo Credit: The Upcoming. What a fucking poster, man!)
John Maclean did "Slow West" a few years ago: a delightfully droll, pleasant, picturesque little surprise of a Western, and I thought he'd done more films in the meantime, but no! Hollywood is a nightmare and it has taken him 10 years to get a 2nd film released. I don't believe that this is going to get the acclaim and adoration "Slow West" did, which is fair but also a shame as I really rather liked this.
It's a lean affair, began in media reas and clocking in at 91 minutes with a flashback in the middle and a bloody, fun finale. A hybrid of a chase movie and a Samurai film, dressed up in the beautiful scenescapes of Scotland with the visual flair, colours and oddities; it is reminiscent of the Coen Brothers with its quirky humour. It could do with being a bit longer, and some of the tonal shifts never land quite as fluidly as they should (fitting, considering the setting of a travelling circus troupe), but the tone as a whole is strong: the movie feels like a mournful lament, the dying gasps and whispered sorrows of a dying man. The central arc and foreshadowing/parallels of Tornado are well done, and the cinematography and colour grading make this look closer to a storybook or an oil painting than a traditional "gritty" Western, and I really enjoy this. The finale is fun too, very chanbara in the woods

"The Toxic Avenger - Unrated" - Review

In the corrupt, rotting city of St Roma, the chief industry is a heavily polluting pharmaceutical plant. It is here where widowed mild-mannered janitor Winston Gooze (Peter Dinklage) works to support himself and his stepson Wade (Jacob Tremblay), until a horrifying accident transforms him into a toxic beast ready to avenge himself upon the town that has wronged them!

(Photo Credit: IGN)
This is a movie tailor made for me.
The original Troma "classic" is the cornerstone and touchpiece for their brand of trash, outsider mayhem and gross nonsense, I proudly have Lloyd Kaufman's autograph, and a copy of the film in a trashy DVD on my shelf. I've listened to the musical multiple times (the only one I've done so outside of the Golden Age classics) and just adore this kind of outsider art. And when Macon Blair (behind the fucking excellent underrated genre-bender "I Don't Feel At Home in this World Anymore"), star of "Blue Ruin" and "Green Room" was announced to finally be the one going ahead with this long-squelching remake, my interest was piqued.
With my bona fides out of the way, let's get this part done with: There's nothing quite so Hollywood was taking an underdog cult trash classic piece of punk outsider art and remaking it glossier and with bigger stars; though it has Kaufman (now best known to the kids for his appearences in James Gunn movies) and Michael Herz behind the producing wheels, it still was stuck in development hell. Oh Hollywood.
It was always going to lose some of that lovably incompetent, wild, anarchic jank in the transition. That being said:
I fucking loved this.
From the opening shots being an overly Gothic-lit office with "Award for Good Journalism: Melvin Ferd" (the name of the lead in the Toxic Avenger musical) and him being played by Shaun Dooley (Barnsley represent!) before a bunch of weirdly dressed, chicken-headed, clown-make-up clad, parkour-flipping goons burst in and start trying to murder: I felt that Macon Blair has the same love for this movie as I do.
What follows is bloody, stupid, punky, outrageous, bloody, gory, stupid, juvenile, bloody and campy, with lots of gore and stupid blood to push things to the limit.
Dinklage cuts a man's face in half, revealing a pulsating brain, with a radioactive mop.
The chicken man gets a fucking fantastic gross pay off.
Kevin Bacon (embracing his weird era in films, side note watch "Super" and he's super fun in "Elephant White") hams it up to the extreme with his deliberately snarling, cartoonish dialogue.
Elijah Wood, also relishing his weirdo era, plays a put-upon "Igor" esque brother to Bacon, complete with atrocious hair and cane.
Peter Dinklage proclaims: "Alright, I need to get my dick out!".
Said dick is actually Chekov's gun.
At a murderous "post-hardcore punk" concert, reaction shots consist of flashed titties and penises.
The transformation into the titular creature is a deliberately 50s style psychadelic throwboack with headshots and swirling screens, done to the Mozart monster theme, you know the one.
It still has the outright gall and audacity to be an underdog story, a corporate satire, and a commentary on the American healthcare system (not a subtle one, but, come on man... we're past this) in the final cut.
This movie is far better made than the original, but puts that budget and effort into being gross, stupid, ridiculous and capturing the Troma sense of humour, without the mean-spiritedness (well... almost...)
It's a niche movie for a niche crowd, but I am that niche crowd.
I was laughing a lot, and when I wasn't laughing I was beaming from ear to ear.
I want Blair to go very far after this, unpredictable career that he has.
I guess if you like stuff like "Wolfcop", "Hobo With a Shotgun", "Street Trash", "The Stuff" and "Demons", go for this!
Fuck yeah.

"Nobody 2" - Review

Long after his rough and tumble tangle with the Russian Mafia brought mild-mannered super-killer Hutch Mansell (Bob Odenkirk, which I still cannot get over) back into the game, he has been doing contract work for The Barber (Colin Salmon, nice) to settle affairs. But this has all alienated him from his family, so he decides to arrange a holiday! Alongside ballsy wife Becca (Connie Nielsen), gangly rebellious son Brady (Gage Munroe), endearing daughter Sammy (Paisley Cadorath) and unhinged father David (Christopher Lloyd); Hutch decides to head off to beloved theme park/waterpark of his youth Plummerville! But you can never fight the tides, and soon Hutch finds himself trying to simply enjoy his holiday and avoid the orbit of sleazy weirdo sheriff Abel (Colin Hanks), scuzzy owner Wyatt (John Ortiz) and mysterious maniac Lendina (Sharon Stone) - easier said than done.

(Photo Credit: Amazon Prime Video)
The first film is rather fun and a pleasant surprise where action movies are concerned, marketed largely successfully on it being from minds behind "John Wick" and Bob Odenkirk in the leading role. This one keeps that momentum going but also seems unsure where to go with it. Having Indonesian Timo Tjahanto behind the wheel adds an askew crookedness to standard Americana, which is welcome and adds to the quirk: it's a nice twist on the setup and brings spark to the tale. When blood and vicious gore of the director's previous efforts like "The Night Comes For Us" begins to get spattered across the faded All-American theme park and other such things, it's a tad jarring but spices up things.
Otherwise it's a rather busy movie, with lots of characters bouncing around the place, scheming, counter-scheming and having mini-arcs which get kind of dropped and forgotten about; and Sharon Stone's villain is given little guidance or things to do so sort of has to pull a Matt Smith in "Morbius" and make up quirk as she goes along (including a dance sequence); but the whole affair is bloody fun and comes into its own on a boat fight and during the finale at the theme park. Much like Hutch's holiday (hell, the film even uses Cliff Richard...) it's fun while it lasts, and it won't be as good as you remember when you look back on it, but enjoy the ride.
Plus RZA gets to be the samurai of his dreams in the final act and gets the best, pulpiest line against legal-requirement bad guy Daniel Bernhardt.