"No Other Choice" - Review

Man-su (Lee Byung-hun, always excellent) is the manager of a paper plant, with a beautiful life, two excellent dogs, a loving wife named Lee Mi-ra (Son Ye-jin), a teenage stepson and a gifted cellist daughter. But when he is given the axe at the plant in a takeover, he struggles to make ends meet and witnesses his life slip away. But Man-su is a provider, and will not be edged out of this industry, and he has an idea: an excellent, if taboo, idea...

(Credit: Neon)
I adored this.
After the resounding misfire/"Tell Me Something" knockoff "Decision to Leave": Park Chan-wook, the master of mischievous mayhem, has come back swinging with a pinpoint-accurate, razor sharp satire on capitalism, the job market and societal expectations of masculinity and the class system of providers. It's tricksy, slippery, immaculately crafted and shot (it feels like a timepiece in the filmmaking mastery on display: with exquisitely framed shots of windows and nature, impeccable editing and split shots with things like fire and phone calls, and a beautiful mirroring at both ends. I was particularly fond of an early shot of the van with "It's What's Inside") and featuring fantastic performances across the board. Byung-hun is always brilliant, here shedding his traditional badass ("A Bittersweet Life" rules) style to wonderful effect: an extremely funny, yet dark and twisted little performance of a man justifying and reflecting and self-actualising all in one go, and Son Ye-jin is magnificent in equal measure: I thought she'd be more of a "Lady Macbeth" type role from the trailer (and Park Chan-wook's prior sense of humour and mischief) but no! She was unusual and enigmatic and had a lot to do, refreshingly so for a woman in a movie.
The film is stunningly well told, and has the funniest murder I have ever seen captured on film, well in recent memory at least. Wonderful stuff and what cinema should be: a singular vision told collaboratively.

"The Running Man" - Reaction

In the not-too-distant future, a once promising filmmaker burnt out by the studio process tackles his greatest challenge yet...

(Credit: Abbeygate Cinema)
It's been a good year for King adaptations, with "Life of Chuck" and "The Long Walk" (a short story and arguably his weakest Bachman novel respectively) being nothing short of a miracle, considering the history of most King adaptations. This could have been a slam dunk (not to tip my hand too early): a filmmaker known for his unique takes, adapting a dystopian satire of showbusiness and updating it for the modern day, with Glen Powell as the lead and the backing and approval of King himself.
Edgar Wright has not been exciting in a long time. His Sparks documentary remains my favourite of his works and the last time he made a great movie: "Baby Driver" left me cold and "Last Night In Soho" was confused right up until its ending utterly shat the bed. This adaptation of the book apparently is an attempt to skew closer to its grittier roots, but the colourful, memorably campy Arnold Schwarzenegger version rears its head frequently whenever the movie thinks we're getting bored and tries to be "fun". The mish mash of tones is the worst of both worlds: none of the pop, or the fun, well edited works of early Wright (in fact there is an atrociously choppy fight sequence in the cockpit of a plane) - and all of the basic story points of the book with none of the grit and way of King's writing. The tonal shifts are not the problem (well, not the main problem) though they are best exemplified by Michael Cera appearing to give a rather good performance as a rebel whose father was slain by the state, then to be "oh-so-wacky" with a water gun as the same goons invade his house and he sips from Monster Energy whilst giving exposition. It would be satirical in more interested hands.
The entire affair is soulless, empty and left me feeling cold and bored. As dumb as the Arnie movie it, it's at least consistent and kind of bonkers in its casting and characters, and knew what it was. Here the film just limps along, committing to neither bit and feeling anonymous in its direction, yo-yoing between tones.
The book has suffered from a "John Carter of Mars" syndrome in that many of its best ideas and themes and images have been pilfered by other works, and "showbiz murder" satire has been done better and more consistently in things such as "Series 7: The Contenders", "The Hunger Games" (alright, I'm not a fan of that one) and the exemplary "Battle Royale" to name a few; but this defence falls away like cardboard when you try to admire the movie on its own merits. Staid, by the numbers and anonymous.
They even pussy out of the book's ending.
I watched "Pool Party Massacre" on DVD after this, having picked it up for 3 quid. That was a far better time: it knew what it was, there was a coherent vision, the characters were more fun, and the movie was never confused about what it was trying to be.

"Death of a Unicorn" - Review

Corporate lawyer Elliott (Paul Rudd, ever reliable) has recently been widowed and immerses himself in his work. He is invited to a corporate retreat at the Leopold Estate, owned by his bosses at a pharmaceutical giant, alongside his morose vaping daughter Ridley (Jenna Ortega, always welcome) so as to assess his potential as executor of their estates. Along the way, the pair hit a unicorn with their car. In trying to hide the body, father and daughter become wrapped up in their own strained-relationship, the ambitions of head of Elliott's boss Odell Leopold (Richard E Grant, hell yes) and an ever escalating unicorn problem on the property as vengeful parents seek their spawn.

This really should have worked when embracing the madness of its concept, and indeed there are parts of the satirical part which do (the unicorns showing more care for their spawn than the Leopold clan; Will Poulter who steals the show as their idiot son, snorting unicorn horn like cocaine and having visions of the future; and the plot essentially being capitalists brutalising and slicing up the remains of something wonderful in order to secure more profit); however its lack of focus means most things do not land as well as they should. The father-daughter relationship of Rudd and Ortega lacks the pathos and warmth it needs, and the humourous parts are too infrequent to make up for the lesser scares and tension building. It's fine as is, but could have been a lot worse. I prefer a swing and a miss than generically competent.

"Mickey 17" - Review

In the not too distant future, a down on his luck schmuck named Mickey Barnes (Robert Pattinson) is in deep debt to the ultimate loan shark. Alongside his only friend and skeezy business partner Timo (Steven Yeun), he signs up to a colony ship to escape from Earth. But whilst Timo gets recruited to be a pilot, Mickey finds himself enlisted as an "expendable" - somebody whose job is to be cloned and killed again and again to do the dangerous jobs "worthwhile" people cannot be risked on. His adventures in space bring him into orbit with the incompetent science team, the ship's manaical failure of a tyrant Kenneth Marshall (Mark Ruffalo), his gourmand wife Ylfa (Toni Collette), kind hearted security officer Nasha (Naomi Ackie) and, most troubling, himself (Robert Pattinson), in this satirical tale of class, fascism, capitalism and dehumanising effects of the three.

The follow up to "Parasite" shares more in common with my favourite of Bong Joon-Ho's works: "Snowpiercer" and "The Host" (watch that if you haven't had a chance to already: a fun and different take on the monster movie), in that it leans into science fiction and cute critters, whilst family drama goes onto the backburner it is and military/governmental incompetence at the forefront this time around. It weaves and bobs and dips and dives through various events and genres pretty fluidly, I was never bored: one moment we're having Mickey attempting to survive an ice planet, then it's his previous forms and how he got here, then a relatively sweet relationship with Nasha and the way things work on the ship (hint: they don't. Capitalism doesn't work), before it kicks into high gear and its final act becomes colonialism (summed up with in a literal speech given by Ackie, who's excellent in this) and why it's bad. Its themes are not merely set dressing, they tie into the plot and humour as well: from the shitty printer of Mickey and his constant deaths with no regard for his humanity (he's injected with viruses to create vaccines, and people realise it's cheaper to just kill him and toss him away than bring him back safely in one piece) to the constricting confines of the ship and its cold, mechanical machine invoking "Snowpiercer" and abbattoirs in general. The food and slaughter imagery are good standbys actually, I like them a lot (particularly when Toni Collette comes into it all at the end with her need for "fancy sauces" and seeing sentient beings merely as exotic delicacies, much like how she views people) and the film's performers are also strong to boot. Pattinson is joining the ranks of our Goblin Boys (for reference: Nicholas Hoult, Skyler Gisondo, Billiam Skarsgaard, Johnny Knoxville and Sabrina Carpenter) officially after this excellent turn as the titular Mickey: he differentiates between the two with simple body language and looks, and also brings what can only be described as "Johnny Knoxville energy" to the part, it's most entertaining; Ackie is on a tear between this and "Blink Twice"; Ruffalo plays a delightful send up of grotesquerie and fascists, and the supporting parts are lovely too (Tim Key and Thomas Turgoose are in this!), they all have a lovely moment or too. It's less confined and not as tight as "Parasite", "Snowpiercer" or even "The Host", but its ambition works in its favour and I recommend the movie.
Also it has the funniest dinner party sequence in years.

"Opus" - Review

There is an enigma in the pop world, a celebrated genius who defined the decades, and his name is Moretti. He does neither interviews nor press releases, instead announcing his albums through a VHS release from his agent (Tony Hale) and letting the work speak for itself. This time, Moretti (John Malkovich) is inviting a select group of journalists to experience the album and Moretti. Overlooked aspiring writer Ariel (Ayo Edibiri) doesn't believe the hype, and is along for the ride in this odd commune Moretti has concocted, attempting to figure out when it goes beyond art and becomes dark...

The movie's soundtrack is done by Nile Rodgers: that fact alone absolutely rules. It sounds like something you would believe is the "genre defining" sound of an era, and I would happily listen to this funky stuff for hours on end. The casting of Malkovich is also pitch perfect: he's an actor weird and unusual enough that we believe him as this oddly compelling cult musician but also enigmatic enough to be a compelling mystery in his own right - we don't quite know where he's going and which side of the fence he's on. He really works, especially when performing the bizarre funky music and sexual dances for it. These are bangers.
And Ayo Edibiri is a wonderful straight woman to proceedings: she is drawn into this culty world of celebrity and worship of the "auteur", and is the only one to have read the press releases, the only one to question them whilst her colleagues uncritically absorb it all and relish the celebrity musician's time and efforts: a cute and notable little detail is her mirroring her overbearing boss Stan's (Murray Bartlett) dress sense and being relegated to note taking, whilst also being the only one to actually talk to the people present.
The movie, however, spends too much time stradling twin lanes without committing to one, until it's too late and it falters. We know it's going for a culty atmosphere and there's some excellent horror (a puppet show about Billie Halliday is a personal highlight) including a pretty creative shot of a fight scene with a door, letting the imagination and tension build there; whilst Amber Midthunder (on something of a tear as of late, and I'm excited for "Novocaine") has a fun turn as one of the more intense members of the commune. The fact that Moretti is an eccentric celebrity and recluse makes the reason these star-fucker journalists are staying make sense, and Malkovich is a compelling performer; plus I enjoy the use of the CCTV shots, there's a few spooky parts there. But when it finally chooses to be about the horror and dread angle as everything goes wrong: we've not had a chance to get to know the other journalists. I swear, despite the excellent Juliette Lewis being one of them, I didn't know their names, and they had each had maybe 4 lines iat most? They did their best with the material, but the focus seemed lacking.
But I still err on the side of recommending it, as I rather enjoyed the ending and the ambition.
It ends on a somewhat sinister note about celebrity worship and evolution, and honestly a nice parallel to "Vengeance" and that movie's commentary on society adoring and forgiving criminals and famous people (particularly in today's... climate). Its ambition and reach exceed its grasp for a debut film, but that's refreshing with so many churned out slices of "content" and "product" from studios, and it doesn't always work, but it's a respectable debut from Mark Anthony Green.

"The Substance" - Review

Workout star of a prime time show, and hottest thing on the planet, Elizabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore) has it all! But all good things must come to an end: she's 50 and, as made abundantly clear by her slithery boss Harvey (Dennis Quaid), there's no room for her in this industry now. Despondent and miserable, she finds her way back in: far from pulling a Mikey Saber, she instead uses "The Substance", to create a "newer", "hotter", "better" version of herself (Margaret Qualley), to ride high once again in that industry. All seems well, she has to follow a few rules and success seems given: Stabilize every day, swap every seven days, and remember that there is no she and her, only "Us". Fame, youth, beauty and more, are only an injection away...

Rightfully compared to David Cronenberg, I'd agree but not for the reasons people think when they immediately think Cronenberg: it has that almost asexual, clinical dissection of glamour and sex, that horniness and sleaze eyed up with an almost alien fascination and disgust which feels more akin to fascination than perversion. It's less titillating and more inquisitive and ponderous.
The whole movie is gorgeously shot, very French.
It has frequent wide angle lenses, immaculate colour design (the yellow coat and orange hallways are a particularly striking set of images), making for frequently bright, memorable imagery. There are a lot of wide angle and fish eye lenses, usually with an exquisitely ghoulish Dennis Quaid (playing his best Ray Liotta, RIP) far too close, adding disgust and discomfort effortlessly. And then the surgical, looming, disgusting gross body horror you came for is (whilst underplayed for a majority of the film, we'll get there...) neatly done, slow, effective, gross.
The sound design is the star of the show: I never want to hear a man eating shrimp ever again. Fucking gross There's a lot of food and consumption and devouring imagery and metaphors. The film descends into addiction, the biases and loaded decks and prejudices against women, the hypocrisy and vulgarity of the entertainment industry and society's double standards for women, and to this extent casting Demi Moore (giving one of her best performances in a lifetime) is an inspired piece of parody. She is great in this: her cookery scene is great fun, and encapsulates the movie well.
The final act is where you, I, and everyone with a semblance of understanding of horror movies, Cronenberg, body horror and pacing are expecting it to come together:
Oh boy it does that!

Deliciously gross, surprisingly rather "Society" inspired stuff (I kept humming the "Eton Boat Song" in my head, you'll see why...) comes alive in the finale: gross, bloody, manic, and a suitable slice of madness from what we have seen so far. It's not as unhinged as something like "Cuckoo", and is a more reserved, collected, orderly affair with something to say, but if you have the patience for it, and enjoy the Soska Sisters remake of "Rabid", I can recommend this.

"The Purge: Election Year" Review - From the Vaults

 "The Purge: Election Year" is phenomenal and should be seen immediately.

Look, I know that these movies will not win new converts, and the advertising is low-key, so if you did not enjoy "The Purge: Anarchy" then stay away.

If, however, you want a nasty, snarling, brutally nihilistic view of mankind and the depths of darkness in the human soul, then you're in for a treat!

For this is not just a movie which takes the concept of "legal crime" and rolls with it, showcasing the nastiness of mankind with aplomb and creativity, but does so with colour, spectacle and a way which is jam-packed with satire. It touches upon race, class, wealth, faith, capitalism, the American Dream and idealism against pragmatism in this cynical and violent world we live in, whilst also adding creative touches regarding the core concept (murder tourists, a paramedic who helps out, what the gangs get up to in all of this).

Yet that is not the true magnificence.

Yes, these things when put together create a movie that is at times fun, at times disturbing and at times clever, but it is the structure and core character which makes this:

Frank Grillo.

He makes being an action movie star look easy, and is surrounded by likeable, lovable characters who you REALLY, REALLY don't want to die, making you actually care when they do. Remember when movies did that? He fights Neo-Nazis, just in case you felt bad about him murdering the enemy with punch-daggers, guns and a secret suitcase bomb.

This is an action movie not afraid of showing violence. This is an action movie featuring a knife-fight with a Neo Nazi in a car park. This is an action movie featuring competent henchmen. This is an action movie where Frank Grillo (whose name sounds like a Batman villain and who also could easily play, and probably IS, Batman) makes the act of reloading seem cool. This is a movie where he teams up with Bubba from "Forrest Gump" and we get the line:

"I like black folk, but I can't let you kill these white people. These are OUR white people."

This is a movie which I was having an absolute blast throughout. It mixes all of the B-movie genres of old into a blender, flicks "puree" and the results are magnificent.