"Twisters" - Review

Meteorologist Kate Carter (Daisy Edgar Jones) loses her friends in an experiment to map tornados, and shuts herself off from the world. When fellow survivor and scientist friend Javi (Anthony Ramos) convinces her to come out of self-imposed exile and try it again, the pair fall into the orbit of storm chaser and YouTube star Tyler Owens (Glenn Powell) and his team, embarking upon adventures in storm chasing.

"Twister" was not as good as people remember.
This one is thus a good sequel to that first film. Its characters are perfunctory, the screenplay is honestly a good exercise in dissecting screenplays: you can time each beat and moment and turning point to the very second and page, ala "Save the Cat", and you're here for some tornado silliness. It ticks along nicely, and you remember the characters because they've cast quirky actors and rising stars in these perfunctory parts: the team who die at the start are played by Kiernan Shipka (wearing glasses, and you know she's the quirky smart one); Nik Dodani (so you know he's the nervous one); and Daryl "I Don't Actually Sleep with an Older Actor This Time" McCormack (so you know he's the charming, likable one). That trend continues into the present day setting: we've got Sasha Lane as the drone pilot (fun side note: every time we see a film with her in at our local cinema, it's in the same screen. Henceforth it shall be the "Sasha Lane" screen); Brandon Perea from "Nope" is the right hand man of our lead; Katy O'Brien plays a mechanic with about 6 lines, but you know - it's the lady from "Love Lies Bleeding" so I let it pass; Future "Superman" and star of "Pearl" David Corenswet turns up as the "douchebag corporate" character you enjoy seeing get splattered in mud; and there's honestly a nice little bit with a reporter played by Harry Haddon-Paton, where he goes to take photographs of people in danger but instead places it down and goes to help.
Powell and Edgar-Jones are the stars here, and the former is lovable and engaging, and Edgar-Jones holds the ship steady with a less flashy part. It's a servicable, trundling along disaster movie. Everybody can sit down and watch it, it's fine. And thus, it is a perfect sequel to the mediocre "Twister". Hell, I was more interested in seeing this than "Ryan Reynolds and Wolverine".
I do kind of want that gadget drill gimmick truck Tyler drives though, that's stupidly fun.

"Love Lies Bleeding" - Review

Louise (Kristen Stewart) runs a gym in 1989 and tries to give up smoking. When drifting, bodybuilding stranger Jackie (Katy O'Brien) comes to town, sparks fly and worlds collide.

After the absolute barn burner of a debut (heh) "Saint Maude", I was fascinated to see where Rose Glass (amazing name) would go: her eye for detail, ugliness, hopeful redemption and classy sinful sleaze has taken her to honestly the one place befitting her talents: film noir.
A grimy, but not salacious, look at 2 spiralling strangers finding each other, and the myriad of decisions and outside events complicating things and causing them to spiral. It's gripping stuff, with a believable, swet central pairing, both flawed and damaged individuals trying to open up and help each other without letting those vulnerabilities be used. There are fantastic shots of the starry skies and the gym reading "Crater Gym", like Jackie is sent from the Heavens, but destined to leave wreckage when she does, and the imagery and beauty of the film continues in those shots; but is also counter-acted and frequently contrasted with "Saint Maude"-esque grit and grime: everything is off colour, everything is run down, an accurate look at the time period rather than a simple shallow neon-tined facsimile of it through nostalgia blind lenses. In this murkiness and ugliness, the beauty is allowed to thrive, but they also succumb to the worst instincts too. There's fantastic consumption and devouring imagery throughout, all maws and insects and yawning chasms, and the sound design is top notch: squelching and bone crunching and creaking of bones, topped by an all-too-fitting Clint Mansell score. Ed Harris shows up and is ALWAYS welcome in things. I love Ed Harris.
It's classic film noir, dripping with imagery and closeups and told with a queer eye and a twist. Already I'm seeing takes which see the dream-like and metaphorical elements at face value, come on guys: it's Rose Glass. Have some media literacy.
I like it. I want to continue to see where Rose Glass goes from here.
Side note: there are more scenes of "downtown devouring" than there are murders here.
But I DO NOT want to see anybody get their toes sucked, what the fuck movie?