"Thunderbolts*" - Review

Years after the death of her sister, Russian spy and trained assassin Yelena (Florence Pugh) is now working in wetworks for CIA Director Valentina Allegra de Fontaine (Juia Louis-Dreyfus) across the world, clearing her dirty laundry. Unsatisfied with her work, and longing for something to break her free of this anhedonia, she takes one last job for the troubled director (in hot water over her various operations) to eliminate a thief at one of her facilities. There, she bumps into anti-social misfit woman able to phase through objects Ava (Hannah John-Kamen); grouchy asshole and government backed, scandal-ridden Captain America John Walker (Wyatt Russell); old friend and fellow assassin "Taskmaster" (Olga Kurylenko) and a lost young man named Bob (Lewis Pullman). Forced to work together when it becomes clear they are being disposed of, the group go on the lam and seek revenge on Fontaine, drawing them into the orbit of washed up Russian supersoldier Alexei "Red Guardian" Shostakov (David Harbour), bionic "dying inside" Congressman and former assassin/supersoldier Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan), Fontaine's various schemes, a rather dangerous individual, and Mel (Geraldine Viswanathan, forever the best thing about any movie)...

Marvel, the juggernaut studio, have been having a bloody rough time as of late. Underperforming films, a lack of direction, and a death spiral of cannibalising other people's art with this "Multiverse" horseshit (soon to come to an ugly head with the hideous, creatively bankrupt and not-starring Dan Stevens as Dr Doom "Doomsday"), coupled with a recent uncoupling from their wife-beating major arc villain have come together in a brew so noxious that one forgets they were atop the world and are still being imitated and mimicked for their style of fun blockbuster universes.
"Thunderbolts*", against the odds, comes charging out of the gate to remind us why their moves appeal and are fun, and is among their best efforts in years. They've fucking needed it.
Playing to the strengths (a fun ragtag, hodge-podge group of misfits thrust together and forced to work together) and forgoing many of its weaknesses (an over reliance on quips, weak final acts, sloppy finales, and a lack of focus) to forge something which would fit right at home with their earlier and middle efforts. It's rather refreshing just having the movie be "here's a bunch of people, attempting to accomplish a task, and bonding along the way" rather than hopping between timelines and choking to death on bloated references and groundwork for a movie about Grimmo the Taxi Driver or whatever they have going on. On paper it's an ensemble piece, but in practice focuses on Yelena's arc (there's a neat little opening involving a guinea pig in a maze, and some very "West Side Story"-esque overhead shadow shots) and, later, Bob, both of which are excellent. The movie is a fun romp, with excellent details and character bits (I appreciated Walker punching out a character late in the film, very telling and humanizing...) and Harbour's Red Guardian threatens to steal the show as the embarassing dad figure keen on them being a team so he can relive his glory days; but even the underdeveloped characters such as Ava and John get enough to feel real and grounded and have fun with the team. Refreshingly the film takes genuine swings and reaches for themes and ideas, and the final third act is entirely about mental illness and trauma, and (somewhat excellently) has the message of "one cannot cure mental illness, or deny it and despise it, it is a part of one's identity, and you deal with it through love, acceptance and understanding from those who support you and appreciate you." It was good to see.
The more I thought on it the more I liked it, even when it does the usual "fight the big explodey man", it draws back, remembers it is about characters, and rolls with the themes and punches. I appreciated this film and had a good time with it.

"Sinners" - Review

The year is 1932, and during the height of both Prohibition and Jim Crow Laws, wayward twin brothers Smoke (Michael B Jordan) and Stack (Michael B Jordan) Moore return to their home city of Clarkdale, Mississippi, with a bounty of wealth and alcohol from their time with the Chicago Outfit. Intending on setting up their own Blues Bar, they meet up with old friends, including their brilliant Blues-prodigy cousin Sammie (Miles Caton) and Stack's passing ex-girlfriend (with a bone to pick with him) Mary (Hailee Steinfeld), and begin to assemble the dream team for running the joint: legendary Blues musician Delta Slim (Delroy Lindo, always fantastic); sharecropper and big bouncer Cornbread (Omar Miller); Smoke's superstitious wife Annie (Wunmi Mosaku, who I'm happy to see coming a long way since "Moses Jones") for the position of chef; married shopkeepers Grace and Bo Chow (Li Jun Li and Yao) as their in house staff; and the brothers running the day to day affairs - things are coming up roses! But opening night coms around, and a strange guest will bring different worlds together...

Ryan Coogler has, quite rightly, performed some sort of twisted sorcery with the brokering/distribution deal for the film: managing to gain ownership of it after 25 years (a truly fucked up commentary on the state of the film industry as a whole, when one comes to think about it), as well as first cut at profits, in return for allowing Warner Brothers (the norovirus of companies) to distribute. This is fantastic news for the industry as well as Coogler, and a much-needed win for artists.
Also, the film is fucking great, which is a welcome relief and bonus.
Clocking in at just over 2 hours, Coogler's film tells a tale of black identity, grief, "passing" and the spiritual, transformative power and history of black music for the first half; and is such a fun, well observed character/period piece sumptuous with emotion and detail, that when the supernatural elements kick in during the second half and (without spoiling much) it turns into a cross between John Carpenter and a certain Lance Henriksen movie musical, it fels not only seamless but like getting two fun movies for the price of one. I could happily just watch these guys (excellently played by Jordan, though the entire cast are wonderful, and Caton is a hell of a find) simply run a bar; so when the blood starts flying and everything hits the fan, it's beyond cathartic and engaging. The big swings work (musical numbers like a barn-burning and rambunctuous rendition of "Rocky Road to Dublin", playing with time, and even a sweet cameo from a Blues legend at the end to cap it all off), because the characters and the themes do, it's an audcaious and perfectly crafted work. Sterling work from one of the better films allowed to work and have visions today.

"The Surfer" - Review

A man (Nicolas Fucking Cage) moves back to his childhood home in Australia, hoping to buy it and relive his surfing days on a picturesque beach with his son (Finn Little) and ride the waves. Unfortunately a possessive hyper-masculine local big shot named Scally (Julian McMahon) and his insular tribe of toxic lunatics aim to drive away any non-locals from the spot, and a war of wills and ever-spiralling madness escalate as macho meets morality and our surfer loses himself in the outback.

A 70s inspired psychological mind bender (right from the font of the bright yellow font of the opening credits) very much taking a few leaves from the blood and fluid spattered book of "Wake in Fright" as Nicolas Cage is put through the wringer and brought to his lowest depths. It's impeccably made, with sweltering scorching heat and wide angle fish eye lenses as reality distorts, and it morphs into a beast discussing masculinity and the feral, primal urges of onsters which society simply lets happen, and how it gives way to cult like behaviour. It's not for me (and indeed, "Wake in Fright" is the sort of movie I watch once and say "yup, not for me as great as it is!") but has a lot to love. If you're here for the Nic Cage madness/memes, it's relatively restrained in that regard (outside of him force-feeding a man a rat) and instead focuses on a damn good performance from him. The "Straw Dogs"-esque catharsis is never quite there, and it's never as bleak as something like that, but the film works tightly. It could lose the "missing identity, gaslighting into believing you're that other guy" plotline and could honestly have been tighter without it, but works with it regardless.

"Drop" - Review

Violet (Mehann Fahy) is recovering from a traumatic incident in her past and works as a single mother and therapist. She finally manages to snag a hot date with sexy photographer Henry (Brandon Skelnar), and heads to meet him at a fancy high-tower restaurant. But though the pair of them manage to hit it off, Violet starts receiving anonymous messages and images on her phone and before she can attempt to parse who they are from, they start to show pictures of her house, and demand that she murder Henry... Now she must keep the date going, keep it secret from Henry, and figure out who is sending these messages to her...

A fine effort from Mr Landon, as usual! I'm a long-standing defender and advocate of the man's works, and he's been on a tear: from writing the fanatastic "Heart Eyes" and directing a tight, fun little thriller as this, he's been on a tear this year. One heck of a one-two punch. It embraces the inherent silliness, and leans upon the dated memes angle for it all, and stays on course to be a fun little mystery, and a "how shall this character escape the situation?" kind of movie. Fahy (the first thing I have seen her in) is excellent, and Reed Diamond shows up for a little bit, hell yes! Skelnar is lovely too, and has, most essential for this kind of movie, smooth and fluid chemistry with Fahy in this. Everybody who shows up is good: the movie does that thing I really appreciate and respect where it has hired good, solid, experienced and unknown actors to really sell the piece rather than rely on big names and make money disappear, instead saving its budget for some creative little asides and camera angles to show off how far Landon (definitely up for Sweeties this year) has come as a filmmaker. I rather enjoyed it and the mystery's reveal works. Violett Beane is delightful in this as Violet's sister, and everything seems to come together nicely enough and tightly enough that I wasn't picking holes in it, enjoying it so much as I was, which is what it's out to do. Another cracker to the Landon canon, though "Heart Eyes" remains the one to beat this year.

"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.

"Novocaine" - Review

Unassuming assistant bank manager Nathan Caine (Jack Quaid) has something of a problem: in addition to his 90s protagonist name, he has CIPA: a condition which means he cannot feel pain or changes in temperature. Living quietly by himself, with a bump-proof house and videogames, his life changes for the stranger when he meets Sherry (Amber Midthunder), a new employee who seems to hit it off with him! But when the bank is robbed, and Sherry is kidnapped, Nathan chooses to take the initiative and rescue her.

I wanted this to be fun, from the trailer and the oddball 90sness of its premise, and the movie delivered. Quaid is excellent in the lead, playing an everyman oddly well despite his lineage (and looking more and more like Sam Lake every day...), and Midthunder is fun! The film never quite reaches the full lunacy of its promised premise, but it has fun with it and embraces the gore and silliness. Bett Gabriel and Matt Walsh turn up to play a fun pair of cops, adding spice to proceedings, (everything is improved by Betty Gabriel) and it was what I wanted the film to be.

"A Working Man" - Review

Former Royal Marines Commando Levon Cade (Jason Statham) has not only the most Jason Statham name, but the most Jason Statham life: he works as a foreman at a construction site under good, clean, Christian, "pulled up by his bootstraps" Joe Garcia (Michael Pena) and his wife Carla (Noemi Gonzalez), when their spunky, equally Christian daughter Jenny (Arianna Rivas) is kidnapped by people traffickers, to be sold bespoke to a vaguely ethnic sleaze. Cade must call upon his skills to rescue her, coming across Russian mobsters and more, in his quest for vengeance and good old American Christian values!

After "The Beekeeper", which he directed so poe-facedly as to make absolutely hilarious, and amazing nonsensical fun, David Ayer had been on something of a comeback for me (the line on the poster and in the trailers proudly boasting "From the Director of Suicide Squad" is not the flex you think it is, studio), and I adore Statham movies: he's the last of a dying breed in the "Action Movie Star" (well, him and Scott Adkins, who absolutely rules. Watch "Universal Soldier: Day of Reckoning!"). I always know what I'm getting, I know what I'm after, and I know how to separate a good Statham from a bad, even his more experimental fare has its charms: I for one enjoy "Wild Card" as the 70s character piece throwback that it is, "Parker" is actually not too bad an adaptation, and I have nothing but praise for "Hummingbird" and the oddball casting of "Homeland".
This is going to be a ranty one, folks.
You don't see the "keep politics out of my films" crowd talking about this one, funny that...
Action movies, if you want to read into them, and especially the type of 70s macho throwbacks Statham does, are inherently right wing in their scope: a sculpted Adonis growling and snarling their way through (often foreign) bad dudes here to do bad things to our chicks and upholding that ideal of American exceptionalism (odder considering Statham is British and the kings of these, Lundgren and Arnie, are the most Swedish and Austrian men alive, but regardless) in a glorious orgy of violence. Look, I'm oversimplifying it, but if you want to look, it's always there. But I never gave a shit, because the movies are fun, or engaging on their own terms, or they are entertaining and it's never really there or prevalent and only there if you are searching for something.
So noticing it here shows how bored I was.
The movie (written by Stallone, apparently, which... huh) has a bizarre Christian overtone to it all (it's been there in Ayer's previous works, usually in the "urban gangstaness" of it all) from the large looming Christ skull bunker owned by the biker gang leader with a right-hand man named "Demon", to the frequent prayers and the weird side track where the kidnappers (honestly the highights of the movie for me performance-wise: Eve Mauro and Emmet J Scanlon, quite fun characters and performances here!) mock and sneer as their kidnap prays in the car, loudly proudly proclaiming that there is no God.

It's supremely jarring in the greater scheme of things. We have the rather... poorly done trafficking angle to contend with too, oh boy...
So, people traffickers do not spy on, kidnap and pilfer attractive Middle Class good American girls for bespoke buyers in the city, they do it in bulk with poorer migrants, simply lying about jobs in new countries. I know it's a minor thing, seemingly, and nit-picking to gripe with it, but Ayer tries to ground the affair with that usual "gritty flair" which served him (well?) in "The Beekeeper" and was in his other works, rather than leaning into the silliness of the plot as it goes on (Statham ends up doing battle with gold-decked Russian mobsters and charging a barn of sex criminals in the Bayou) so it all feels mean-spirited. Where it could be having fun with it or going for those old-school thrills of a one-man army going for gold, it instead tries to be a gritty gangster thriller with serpentine plots and betrayals and Byzantine double crosses as villains turn on each other, work for other villains and have their own ideas and schemes. It doesn't add depth, because there is none as they are still merely "wacky cartoon villains" who eat babies and enjoy sexual assault. So it just becomes flat and boring.

I'd be fine if there was a sense of effervesence or energy to the fights, but they are few and far between. So okay, maybe it's being a fun detective thriller in the interim? Also no. This convoluted plot continues to go nowhere in two places: a pair of bent cops arrive (not to be confused with the one good cop whom Statham calls for one scene and advice) and help in a kidnapping, ooh boy! Villains and a new threat for us! Only Statham never meets them and they get killed off by a crazy Russian who brings a gold plated tripod machine gun to nightclubs: for you see, killing police? That is a bad thing, even if they are bent (but one feels bad about it, so you know: all good) and thus out "morally grimy world" can't have its waterboarding hero murder police! Because that would be bad!
Oh yeah, the waterboarding.

Between this and "Expendables" (and one of the "Rambo" movies if I remember correctly) I'm starting to think Stallone has a fetish for it. There's lots of effort put into framing it and shooting it, and whilst Ayer adds a sickly green lighting over it, it's still framed as working, as great to do, as something this guy deserves, and also pretty cool. It's just another thing supremely jarringly added onto this rollercoaster with the grace of granite anal beads attached to a motorbike.
The movie has a worshipful, almost beatific belief in the supremacy of the military: not as they are, but this ideal it holds aloft. Again, a classic piece of fare for this work, but taken to extremes: the only people Statham is ever shown being nice to are David Harbour's blind woodsman (who loves the military, though he lost his eyes due to it, unqeustioningly) who supplies him with shedloads of weapons for his murders, and the Christian meth dealer biker when he finds out he was a soldier, so in between the mass murders, Statham manages to place a knife into his throat in a fight more one-sided than the finale of a Seagal flick, and pensively closes his eyes with his hands as a show of respect.

Again, its odd to see it come to the forefront after the rest of the picture, like the one-liners of Jenny when she is kidnapped. I am left bored by the fight scenes, and comotose by the detective work. Even the sillier moments are C-list at best, especially for the genre.
If you're a Statham fan, you're better off with "The Beekeeper" or "Hummingbird" and even "Wild Card". If you're into the mystery or the plot, look elsewhere.