THE FITS (2016) – A REVIEW BY RYAN MARSHALL

by population40, posted in Film Review

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If Anna Rose Holmer is simply testing the waters with her marvelously brooding first feature, then let it be said that she isn’t content to merely leave it at that and swims around a little; and even if the New York native isn’t quite as fearless as her outstanding work would suggest, and it’s likely that she is, she’s quick to conceal it for the entire duration, which is just a few minutes short of seventy.

THE FITS is a bold and totally committed portrait of isolation, maturation, and an inexplicable outbreak of hysterics – all filtered through the curious, abstracted gaze of an eleven year old girl. Tony (Royalty Hightower) exists in what is unmistakably a “man’s world” and yet the temptation of normality is never too far. Day after day, she trains with her brother Jermaine (Da’Sean Minor), a boxer, in their local community center, but a trip down the hall to retrieve a water jug could inevitably lead to a voyeuristic view of the dance team which also functions there.

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What is initially a grim reminder of the character’s introversion is soon turned into an outlet for pent-up frustration and desires alike, until the titular epidemic begins to spread throughout the building’s female population. As one can probably infer, this is certainly a weird one, and one can also imagine it might have been a bit of a tough sell; as much a coming-of-age narrative of remarkable posture and patience as a disturbing psychological horror film that never steps over into discernible genre territory.

And yet, these prove to be rather attractive qualities in the end. There isn’t a single moment that goes by when we aren’t seeing the events through the eyes of our charming protagonist, never a time when her loneliness and pursuit of social acceptance isn’t felt deep in the gut. Cinematographer Paul Yee’s work here should not go unmentioned, as virtually every frame is packed with pulsating tension, and every hypnotic movement registers as the purest expression of a singular soul. It threatens to alienate through suppression, but so do most films that commit this thoroughly to it.

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The film’s potent sense of dread is thankfully complemented by something comparatively sweeter but not so much that the atmosphere loses density as a result. THE FITS has a great deal of merit as a testament to the relationships that young women forge during their formative years, as evidenced when Toni takes a shine to Beezy (Alexis Neblett), a younger dancer. Their friendship is simultaneously a complicated and beautiful one; in other words, it’s entirely believable, no small thanks on the part of the efforts of the cast.

Hightower is an exceptional find, her presence positively demanding your attention with the kind of naturalistic swagger that would suggest a successful career in the cards, further enhanced by the actress’s intrepid gamble with the unfathomable void which surrounds her.  If there’s any price at all that Holmer must pay for such gratifying results, it’s that sometimes her interest in crafting exquisite tonal stagnation occasional gives way to sequences which border on relatively mild tedium. Luckily, this doesn’t speak for the experience on a whole, but in a film that is otherwise so intoxicating, it has the tendency to induce a distinct sinking sensation.

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Nevertheless, this is an exhilarating and audacious first-timer, even more poignant afterwards than it is in motion. So much of it – especially that oddly enticing ending, which is certainly more cathartic than downright odd in retrospect  – can seem cold and uninviting, when really it embraces a spectacularly unorthodox existence. Holmer’s decidedly different beast isn’t always the easiest to pin down, unless the rather blunt central metaphor is taken into consideration, but getting anywhere close to doing so works just fine. Simply put, it’s a peculiar pleasure, getting lost in the film’s depressed depths. If Holmer doesn’t have all the right answers, she at least does well to ask all the right questions.

“You got a problem with me?” – A review of Out Of The Furnace by Josh Hains

by Josh Hains, posted in Film Review

Scott Cooper’s sophomore film Out Of The Furnace follows Russell Baze (Christian Bale) through the empty, broken down streets of Braddock Pennsylvania like a lonesome ghost. He works in the local steel mill where his slowly dying father once worked, using what little money he makes to pay off his brother Rodney Jr.’s (Casey Affleck) gambling debts to sleazy local bookie John Petty (Willem Dafoe), all the while trying to maintain a relationship with his girlfriend Lena Taylor (Zoe Saldana). That all comes crashing down when Russell gets into trouble with the law and spends the next four years in prison, getting periodic visits from Rodney with updates on the state of their father’s health, Lena, and Rodney’s own exploits overseas in Iraq. Both men are broken and trying to keep it together for the sake of each other.

In due time Russell is released back into Braddock, the once thriving city on the verge of death with the mill soon to be closed. Things are different now for Russell, the times have changed, people have changed, and he has no other choice but to suck it up and trudge forward into the unforeseeable future. Rodney has picked up a deadly new habit, bare knuckle boxing, his way of violently paying off his debts to Petty before the stack gets too high. Russell tries talking him into a “normal” job to no avail; after multiple horrific tours of duty in Iraq, Rodney has been left shaken, twitchy, and is a mere shell of the man he once was. All that seems to be left is violence, anger, and undying love for Russell. Rodney begs John Petty to get him into bigger fights in backwoods New Jersey, dirtier, bloodier fights held under the watchful eye of local sociopathic hillbilly Harlan DeGroat (Woody Harrelson).

By this point in a standard issue revenge thriller, Rodney would have been long dead, but Cooper wisely makes the decision to give us time to settle into this world, and come to understand characters who feel like people, and not just cardboard cut outs. That the latter half of the movie devolves somewhat predictably into the same kind of movie it was previously avoiding replication of, is a disappointment. However, what does occur is given room to breathe. Cooper might be following the tropes of the genre, but he at least has the sense to let it unfold slowly and organically. Very little feels forced.

Things quickly turn ugly for Rodney and Petty, and when both go missing, the local law led by sheriff Wesley Barnes, exhausts all possible means in an attempt to find the pair, but can only go far because law enforcement lives in fear of DeGroat’s brutal reign of the area, and the fact that it’s outside of Braddock police’s jurisdiction doesn’t help matters either. So Russell and his uncle Red (Sam Shepard) cautiously take matters into their own hands the only way they know how.

Christian Bale delivers his most believable performance to date, fully embodying the heart and soul of Russell Baze, right down to the slightest nuances and subtleties of the man. He’s a truly masterful actor, strutting his stuff in such low-key fashion that because of the deep naturalism, rawness, and intense realism he imbues, within the first few minutes it stops feeling like a performance. It becomes, real, as Russell battles his inner demons and carries the weight of the world on his lean shoulders right up until the final frames fade to black.

Woody Harrelson knocks it out of the ball park as Jersey backwoods hillbilly sociopath Harlan DeGroat, topping his wildly over-the-top performance as Mickey in Oliver Stone’s Natural Born Killers. If you thought Mickey was a bad dude, wait until you watch DeGroat force a hot dog down the throat of a woman at a drive-in movie theatre in the films unnerving opening sequence. Harrelson has an uncanny ability of inhabiting even the most repulsive of villains with some semblance of humanity, and toward the end of the film does so with nothing more than an all-knowing expression upon his face and burning in his eyes as he delivers a couple heartfelt lines.

With this performance, Casey Affleck shed the boyish light his previous performances have always been garnished with, trading it in for a toned body and volatile outbursts of pent-up rage. He gives the more energetic performance of the two brothers, effortlessly capturing Rodney’s broken down mannerisms. Forest Whitaker, Willem Dafoe, Zoe Saldana, and Sam Shepard each provide the right amount of nuance and naturalism to their perfomances that blend evenly with their bleak surroundings and the trio of astounding lead performances.

In a scene near the midsection of the film, Russell and Lena have a conversation on a bridge about their future after Russell has been released from prison. Despite Russell’s plea to make things right between them, Lena cannot commit to him anymore because she’s carrying Barnes’ child. In a moment that ought to shatter even the hardest of hearts into a million pieces, Russell congratulates Lena, assuring her she’ll be a good mom amidst tears from both of them. This scene assuredly carries the finest moments of acting we’ve seen from Bale and Saldana to date. 

The cinematography by Masanobu Takayanagi (The Grey) is impeccable, capturing beautifully and quite often starkly, the dreary and dirty grit of Braddock, the crispness of the violence, the cold bitterness of the dialogue dripping from the tongue of the people inhabiting the film. Scott Cooper directs this film with ease, honestly and authentically capturing the bleak essence of the dying town, the harsh realities of the effects the economy is having on the people, and the brutality that is the violence that twists their worlds upside down in the blink of an eye.

 

“If you ride like lightning, you’re gonna crash like thunder.” – A review of The Place Beyond The Pines by Josh Hains

by Josh Hains, posted in Film Review

As the opening title, “A film by Derek Cianfrance”, dissipates, a breath is drawn followed by the clinking of an angel knife as Ryan Gosling’s Luke Glanton menacingly opens and closes it, his abs glowing in the dimly lit room, his body battered with tattoos as the sounds of people, rides and games emit from outside his small trailer. He’s told it’s showtime by an outside authority, jamming the knife overhand into a wall before picking up his shirt and red jacket and slipping out the door, putting them both on as he traverses the crowd until he reaches a large tent boasting The Globe Of Death. He walks with the swagger of James Dean as he enters the tent to cheers and cries of excitement from fans alike as he and two fellow riders known only as The Heart Throbs gear up on their motorcycles and glide into the deadly spherical cage. Engines roar and fans scream as Handsome Luke and The Heart Throbs dizzyingly ride their motorcycles loop de loop until the screen fades to Luke signing autographs. And to think, that was all done in one take.

The Place Beyond The Pines is a beautifully brooding, tragic, heartbreakingly powerful, and ambitious genre film about fathers and sons, legacy, and consequences. Luke Glanton (Gosling), a daredevil carnival motorcycle rider finds out former fling Romina (Eva Mendes), a local waitress and fan of Luke’s skills, recently had their son, Jason after their last fling. Much to her surprise, he quits his job in the hopes that he can concoct a relationship with the infant and her too, even though she has a new, responsible man in her life by the name of Kofi (Mahershala Ali, in an understated role).

Luke is irresponsible, impulsive, tattooed all to hell and prone to outbursts of violence. Things only get complicated once he meets Robin Van Der Zee (Ben Mendelsohn), a grubby mechanic who hires him after witnessing his outstanding skills on the motorcycle. He suggests that Luke rob banks, Robin himself having robbed banks years earlier, and Luke, in need of quick cash to support his son, opts to do just that. As time marches on the risks get higher and the cash comes thicker during riveting, manic heists and intense and stunningly realistic getaways; until Robin suddenly balks, leaving Luke to sloppily rob a bank and subsequently get chased across town on his motorcycle. The breathtaking chase leads Luke to a violent confrontation with Avery Cross (Bradley Cooper), a young police officer and son of a well respected judge.

After his confrontation with Luke, Avery begins to question his actions during the encounter as fellow officers headed by Pete Deluca (the always intimidating Ray Liotta, in full-on bad cop mode) engage in thuggish, corrupt behaviour which begins to take its toll on Avery and his family life as the father to a newborn son and husband to a fearful wife.

Skip ahead 15 years and Avery is running for public office, as his and Luke’s respective sons Jason (Dane DeHaan) and A.J. (Emory Cohen) begin a tumultuous and troubling friendship. I have to stop there, as any more details about the film will surely spoil what is undoubtedly a surprising film.

Luke’s story takes up the first 45-60 minutes, and is the best of the three stories in this triptych film; a deep, emotional roller-coaster that follows Luke as he struggles to provide for his newborn son. The heists are crisp, increasingly sloppy and volatile, brimming with an underlying intensity and fiery rawness. When he robs, he angrily squeals and shrieks his commands, grabbing the closest person to him as leverage until he has the money. When he rides, it’s as if you’re right there with him; the roar of the engine thundering through the air as he speeds down twisting roads into Robin’s cube truck.

Ryan Gosling as the violent, troubled Luke Glanton is mesmerizing, delivering his best performance since 2010’s Blue Valentine (which marked his first collaboration with this film’s director Derek Cianfrance), and surely one for the Oscar nomination list. He doesn’t say much which draws comparison to his eerie role as The Driver in 2011’s Drive, his eyes and facial expressions exuding Luke’s restrained and ominous personality in the same brooding manner as he did in Drive. He also has a vehicular skill, this time motorcycles and not cars, but that’s about where the comparisons stop. Where Driver felt like a caricature, or a fantastical vigilante ripped from a ludicrous dream, Luke feels, and very much so is, a genuine, authentic and honest portrayal of a man struggling to leave a strong imprint in his son’s life while dealing with his own inner, violent demons. He holds honest intentions, but is far too explosive and violent for the life he quietly yearns for.

Eva Mendes is at her quiet best here as Romina, giving an heartfelt and touching portrayal of a mother trying to do what’s right for her son, which may or may not always be the best of decisions. Ben Mendelsohn (of Animal Kingdom, The Dark Knight Rises and Killing Them Softly fame) yet again find a rhythm for playing the greasy, twitchy mechanic and Luke’s only friend Robin. His ability to slip into these scuzzy roles is fantastic, as he once again delivers a magnetic performance.

The second story that follows Avery post-Luke encounter runs for about the same length as the first section, as does the last section. The film seamlessly weaves between the sections, pausing only for a moment with a black screen as if to let us breathe before it catapults us into Avery’s battle for survival in the world of policing. The story presents itself much like a cop film from the ‘70’s, something the likes of William Friedkin or Francis Ford Coppola would have sunk their teeth deep into. Bradley Cooper is fantastic in this act, quickly taking the reins of the film as the torch gets passed along, proving once again that most audiences have underestimated his acting prowess in the past despite the complexity of his most recent roles. Ray Liotta as Pete Deluca, a corrupt veteran officer, is at his menacing best, and Rose Byrne (Jennifer, Avery’s wife), Harris Yulin (as Avery’s judge father Al) and Bruce Greenwood as slippery lawyer Bill Killcullen all deliver with quiet, small roles with actions that echo a lifetime.

I won’t go too deep into the final act, but I will say that Dane DeHaan is one to watch, one-upping his co-star Emory Cohen as Luke’s estranged son Jason, matching pound for pound the intensity delivered by the more seasoned actors in the film. Emory is convincing as the drug-addled interpretation of MTV styled behaviour infused into Avery’s son A.J.

The latter two stories following Avery post-confrontation, and later their respective sons, are thoroughly engaging, edgy and potent, but are intentionally not as electrifying as Luke’s daredevil lifestyle portion of the film. Luke’s story is one electric scene after another, each as haunting and memorable as the last until his story ends, when the film slows down to give us a deep insight into the lives of police officers and their family, and the ramifications of the violence and corrupt actions committed in the first story; each scene for the 140 minute running time never failing to captivate your eyes and mind. Despite how well acted the last two chapters of the film are, one can’t help but feel underwhelmed by them both after the volatile, quick paced first act.

This is a powerhouse, haunting, Shakespeare-esque cinematic experience of a lifetime. Derek Cianfrance, the director behind Blue Valentine and the largely unseen Brother Tied gives us his best film here, an honest tale of fathers and sons, violence and its impacts, actions and their consequences. He gets the absolute most of of his actors, no matter how big or small the role, with relative ease it seems. As stated in several dozen interviews, many of the scenes are genuine, featuring real actions from his actors during rehearsals, or spontaneous behaviours from them as filing was occurring, which helps push the realistic, honest and authentic nature of this film to greater heights. The violence is quick and bloody, but never stylized or gimmicky, instead remaining true to the speed and ferocity of real violence one would see in a Sunday night instalment of World’s Wildest Police Chases, which Derek himself said inspired the realism of this film. Mike Patton’s thrilling score greatly enhances each scene, never becoming overbearing or underused.

While Blue Valentine was a small scaled romantic tragedy, The Place Beyond The Pines is on a much larger playing field as it spans its 15 plus years, giving us a sweeping genre epic that stands an equal among similar father-son consequential films such as The Godfather. Derek Cianfrance once again shows us he’s a masterclass in filmmaking, delivering what will surely be the year’s best dramatic film. This is filmmaking from the pelvis by Cianfrance that grabs you by the throat and never lets go until the final, heartbreaking frames contrasted with Bon Iver’s ‘The Wolves’; this, is one hell of a film, and among the best of its year of release. As this epic tale of fathers, sons, and consequences rides off into the morning sunrise, its grip will loosen just enough to leave you breathless in its powerful wake.

 

Logan

by 39frames, posted in Film Review

Logan

2017.  Directed by James Mangold.

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A skin deep swan song by way of a bloodstained road movie, James Mangold’s Logan is a touching, but sadly adequate capstone to the X-Men saga pioneered by Hugh Jackman and Patrick Stewart.  Profanity laced unbridled fury, an outstanding debut performance, and a meticulously crafted entry into the superhero genre are unable to obfuscate the film’s mediocrity.
Using threads from the Old Man Logan comic series, the story begins during the final days of the last mutants on Earth.  Logan is has finally, irrevocably broken underneath years of pain and alcoholism.  Professor X is slowly losing his mind, making him an unstable danger to friends and foes alike.  This quiet extinction is disturbed when a young girl is dropped into their midst putting them on the run from nefarious, albeit typically boring Marvel villains.  Mangold’s story is ultimately a sly metaphor on how the genre itself is being consumed by its fandom.  The heroes are used up and uninterested in caring, let alone acting.  Society has become automated allowing evil men to do evil deeds while the grassroots of manual labor are mercilessly replaced.  Regrettably these chilling concepts are only flirted with, as Mangold seems to use every intriguing moment as a stepping stone to the next CGI bloodbath.

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On the topic of violence in the film, rumors of its brutality are vastly overstated.  For an R Rated adult offering, this is tame considering how practical effects could have been used for maximum impact, but ultimately violence itself is a fleeting notion in this film as scores of mechanically augmented soldiers are repeatedly, unceremoniously ripped to shreds.  Joel Harlow’s makeup design is fantastic, chronicling a life of torment on Logan’s body and as the damage multiplies, the visible, slowly healing wounds become marks of desperation.  John Mathieson’s cinematography latches onto the obvious with a death grip, never deviating from the surface except during some wonderful shots of automated behemoths in a corn field and a few stills of Logan at his worst.

 

In the end, there is no real villain besides time, an existential conceit that is never developed in favor of a repetitive combat rhythm that carries the story into a remarkable final act that comes too soon despite the overlong running time.  It’s a strange paradox, but this is a strange film.  Everything is apparent.  The tired gunman on one last mission cliché is everywhere, even on a television displaying one of the many films from which this trope was conceived, the ultimate admission that blockbusters have run out of fresh ideas.

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Patrick Stewart delivers an award caliber performance.  Professor X is the heart of this film and Stewart does an amazing job with the unexciting material he’s given, delivering the film’s greatest heartbreak and some hilarious one liners.  Jackman fully embraces being able to finally be the Logan we’ve all wanted with ease and it’s a touchstone to how talented this man truly is.  Newcomer Dafne Keen gives ferocious turn as the girl that everyone is pursuing.  She’s primal and abrasive, compassionate and furious, portraying the anguish of a living experiment with a handful of words.  Stephen Merchant’s supporting performance as Caliban also merits mention, as he is the example of the work-horsed mutant’s plight in a world that no longer needs them.

 

In theaters now, Logan is a great sendoff for its titular character, but little else.  The marketing campaign set this up as a transcendent experience that had the potential to rewrite the entire game.  Potential is the key word because it is genuinely everywhere within Logan’s dust choked set pieces.  Sadly, the film is more interested in getting to the sendoff rather than exploring its powerful capabilities.  It’s worth seeing in theater for the remarkable tribute to Jackman and Stewart’s work and the fact that adult oriented superhero films need all the support they can get to ensure that the studios continue to take chances on them.  However, if you’re looking for something that breaks the mold, this is the not film.

 

Recommend.

-Kyle Jonathan

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ANDREW DAVIS’ THE FUGITIVE — A REVIEW BY NICK CLEMENT

by nlclement, posted in Film Review

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Classy action-dramas like The Fugitive are a tough breed to find these days on movie screens; it seems nearly insane that this film was nominated for Best Picture in 1993, not because it’s not fully awesome, but rather, this genre would NEVER be paid attention to by members of the Academy in our current cinematic climate. Harrison Ford delivered a quintessential movie star performance, eliciting sympathy right from the outset, and allowing the audience to embark on his journey with him, rather than feeling like a spectator. There’s a great supporting cast including Sela Ward, Joe Pantoliano, Jeroen Krabbe, Julianne Moore, and Andreas Katsulas. The fantastic Tommy Lee Jones of course won the Oscar for Best Supporting Actor, the film was a massive financial success, and a decent pseudo-sequel following Jones’ character was released in 1998.

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The Fugitive is easily the best film that filmmaker Andrew Davis ever directed, as it was extremely well-crafted on a technical level with ace cinematography by Michael Chapman and a terrific score by James Newton Howard, while Jeb Stuart and David Twohy’s smart and logical screenplay never went too far over the top, instead playing it realistic yet exciting, and always making sure we cared deeply about Ford and his paranoid plight. Apparently, when the film was in various stages of development, Michael Douglas, Kevin Costner, Nick Nolte, and Alec Baldwin were all considered for the Dr. Kimble role, while Gene Hackman and Jon Voight were both thought of for US Marshall Gerard. The film is notable for extensive location shooting in and around the city of Chicago and in the state of North Carolina. “I didn’t kill my wife!” “I don’t care!”

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“Don’t be afraid.” – A review of The Grey by Josh Hains

by Josh Hains, posted in Film Review

You’re watching the opening titles click along, Open Road, Scott Free, the works all rolling through their frames in eerie silence. You think for a fraction of a second that maybe something bad will happen, maybe one of those wolves you’ve seen advertised will erupt into the frame and tear someone’s throat out and perhaps scare the hell out of you. It would be a most opportune time for a jump scare. Instead, wolves bay at the moon, their howls long and bone chilling. I think the howling is more frightening.

John Ottway (Liam Neeson) narrates the opening scene, conveying a “I-don’t-give-a-damn” no nonsense, cynical mindset. He drifts through the cold night like the ghost of someone who died with unsettled demons. A hopeless, broken man. So broken is he that Ottway contemplates and nearly commits suicide, his mouth firmly around the barrel of his rifle until the baying of wolves cuts his actions short. This understandably drawn out sequence is juxtaposed with marksman Ottway shooting a lone wolf that charged some oil drillers, a job he seems born to execute. Ottway respects the animal enough to stay with it until death, almost comforting the creature until its final breath.

A plane ride to Anchorage for oil rig workers on leave (Ottway amongst them) reveals seven more characters of worth, each one playing a significant role in the plot of the film. Flannery (Joe Anderson), the young reckless hick, scared out of his mind, nervous, panicky. Diaz (Frank Grillo) the cynical ex con with a penchant for the f-bomb and bar fights, and his pal Hernandez (Ben Bray). Lewenden (James Badge Dale), presumably a family man. Hendrick (Dallas Roberts), the sympathetic and rational religious mind of the group. Talget (Dermot Mulroney), the gutsy father. Burke (Nonso Anozie) the welcomed comedic relief in several key scenes. The plane they’re travelling in crashes, delivering easily one of the most terrifying on-screen plane crashes you’ll ever encounter on film; it’s the stuff of nightmares and fever dreams.

Ottway soon takes charge, seemingly the most experienced man in the group, making the decision to leave the crash site after Hernandez’s mangled body is found the morning after the sudden and brutal wolf attack that led to his death. The forest a few miles away will provide richer shelter against the harsh, unrelenting winter weather, and might work in the group’s favour against the wolves. Superficially,  The Grey is about a group of men the world seems to have discarded, “men unfit for mankind”, struggling against unfathomable odds. It’s a classic action adventure with elements of horror, but there’s more to this movie than just teeth and death.

The surviving men find opportunities for conversations that bring to light their wants and desires in life. Obviously, we learn the most information about our hero John Ottway, some though deep philosophical thoughts he seems to have been holding onto for ages, and some throughout the movie in the form of brief flashbacks with his wife. Though they are depicted as group at nearly all times, director Joe Carnahan (and co-writer Ian MacKenzie Jeffers, who also penned the short story Ghost Walker that The Grey is based on) understand perfectly how to treat each character as an individual guided by their own unique desire to survive this horrific ordeal, and live to tell about it. The performances across the board are all great, though Grillo and Neeson seem the most natural, helping maintain the grounded atmosphere the movie carries. Neeson deserved more praise upon release than he ever received for giving such a moving, raw performance.

At the end of the movie (*spoiler alert* for those who haven’t seen The Grey over the past five years) Ottway is alone, freezing, desperate, and significantly more broken than he was when we first encountered him, reflecting on those who fell before him by looking through their collected wallets (the real wallets of the cast). Soon realizing to his dismay that he has found the den belonging to the wolves that have relentlessly hunted him, he reflects upon the passing of his late wife, told through one last heartbreaking flashback, her final words giving him the strength to press forward and fight for his life. After taping a knife and broken bottles to his hands as the alpha wolf approaches him, he delivers the lines to an anonymous poem he mentioned to the group earlier that sat in his father’s office when he was a boy. The screen cuts to black, and we’re left stunned and profoundly moved.

Our only clue as to what went down between man and beast lies in promotional material, a brief glimpse of which is shown in a nightmare Ottway has and nowhere else, not even on the Blu-Ray’s deleted scenes. A post credits scene shows Ottway is alive, resting on the presumably dying alpha wolf, though it remains unclear if he is mortally wounded or just worn out, exhausted.

While the misrepresentation of the final product in the promotional materials irked many, it didn’t bother me like I thought it would because I still understand that the sequence (as awesome as it likely is) didn’t fit the tone of the rest of the movie. Liam Neeson slashing and stabbing a territorial wolf sounds like an epic fight for the ages, but that makes about as much sense as having Roy Scheider repeatedly stab the behemoth shark in Jaws to death while clinging to its dorsal fin. In a movie built on a foundation of callous logic and reasoning, that ending just wouldn’t have sat right in our stomachs, and I’m content with that.

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Edge Of Tomorrow

by natewatchescoolmovies, posted in Film Review


-Nate Hill
Tom Cruise, dare I say, has been making really decent stuff these days, some of which is downright brilliant. Oblivion had its moments, carried on wings of an M83 score that was better than the film itself (hello Tron Legacy syndrome), Jack Reacher was solid badassery all round, but Edge Of Tomorrow is just pure class and could almost be considered an instant classic. I waited a long time to finally see it, because in most cases a pg-13 sci fi blockbuster starring Tom would be cause for me to cruise right on by in the Netflix/on demand lineup and pick something else. The reviews were uncommonly good though, and so I inevitably went for it. I’m sorry I waited, because it’s flat out spectacular. What makes it so? Well, it is everything I described above. A sci fi, blow ’em up blockbuster starring Tom Cruise, packed to the gills with action, aliens and stuffed with more Independence Day fireworks than you can shake a stick at. The catch? It has the plot, script and character development to match. This is one seriously thought out story, with heroes who don’t start off that way, conflict among the ranks of characters and genuine, honest to god arcs. You can hurl all the cash you want at a film and blow up as much shit as you can, but if you don’t have those core elements of story in place, and well so, you’ll end up with a hollow piece of vapid space garbage (like that Independence Day sequel). No, this one earns its stripes, opening up during a chaotic intergalactic war between humans and a formidable alien race, who are winning fast and stamping out any hope for our race. Cruise plays a weaselly military PR puppet who talks shit but has never seen a moment of actual combat, until he’s thrown directly into it by chance, with neither skills nor experience to keep him afloat. Stuck in a Groundhog Day esque time loop (I won’t spoil the how and why, but it’s a wicked smart premise that logically plays out), our coward gradually gains what it takes, day by day, to become a hero and save the planet. It takes a lot of dying and starting over though, each day beginning in the same fashion, the possibilities ripe for him to finally get that perfect round and win the day. Emily Blunt, that adorable badass, plays the most adorable badass thus far in her career, a resilient and vulnerable valkyrie who’s rage at the marauding fiends burns through terrifically, providing moments of grit, warmth and humour as needed. Bill Paxton plays a gung-ho military honcho with the same gee whiz charm that made Pvt. Hudson (Aliens, for you plebs) so memorable, and Brendan Gleeson does a third act encore as another General who takes a fair bit of convincing to get onboard with their plan. It’s so much fun you never want it to end, the high concept used for all it’s worth, supported by truly inspired creature design, detailed steam punk style weaponry and old school Hollywood fanfare rationed out in deliciously measured portions, resulting in that perfect recipe, an effects driven crowd pleaser with the brains to back it up. Who knew they could still make that? It’s a thing of beauty. 

PTS Presents Writer’s Workshop with MARK PROTOSEVICH

by Frank Mengarelli, posted in Film Review, Interviews, Podcast

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mark-protosevichWe’re very excited to be joined by screenwriter Mark Protosevich, who we are huge fans of.  Mark’s credits include THE CELL, I AM LEGEND, POSEIDON, OLDBOY, screen story for THOR, the unproduced follow-up to BATMAN & ROBIN, and the upcoming FLASH GORDON directed by Matthew Vaughn.  We go in depth with Mark, talking about his writing process, his love for cinema, and his journey to becoming a writer.  We hope you enjoy, this was an amazing chat!

 

 

Review of LOGAN (2017):

by Joel Copling, posted in Film Review

Hugh Jackman, Patrick Stewart, Dafne Keen, Boyd Holbrook, Stephen Merchant. Directed by James Mangold. Rated R. 137 minutes. 2017.

(This review was originally published at Joel on Film.)

The Logan of Logan is beat-down, bruised, and utterly, completely resigned to the fact that the world has no use for him anymore. The film that features him, the third solo venture for the superhero, takes on a similar attitude, although there shouldn’t be sense here of selling the film short. This is not a grim or oppressive movie, even if the cinematography is rugged and the tone is mournful. The terrific thing about the screenplay by Scott Frank, Michael Green, and director James Mangold (who directed another of the spin-offs featuring Wolverine and returns here with a far superior take) is that it exists entirely on the level. There isn’t any silliness here, other than the inherent kind that has spawned any of the comic books that inspired these characters.

Even that kind of silliness has been forcibly mutilated into something repellant this time, as the adventures shared by Logan, once known as Wolverine in happier times, have become the source of stories that will eventually become legend and then, no doubt, myth. They’ve even been given their own Dead Sea scrolls in the form of comic books, which Logan thumbs through with disbelief, coming upon the stories of the deaths of his old friends that have been re-worked into histrionics and spectacle in the frames of the graphic novels. His dismissal of them as tripe is a sort of roundabout commentary: If Logan was real, as this film undoubtedly treats him, then these scenes of destruction were tragic, not worthy of the distancing effect that drawing them into a comic book might have.

It’s 2029, and Logan, once (and, reportedly, never) again played by Hugh Jackman in his best performance as the character, is one of the last remaining mutants. An event, unstated but referred to in hushed, reverent tones, wiped the planet of the rest, but perhaps Logan’s ability to heal himself from quite literally any injury or affliction gave him a genetic immunity. Whatever the case, he has isolated himself and Charles Xavier (Patrick Stewart), his old mentor and teacher who is now nearing three digits in age, along the Texas-Mexico border, guarded by an albinic mutant named Caliban (Stephen Merchant) who can track other ones. Logan is now protective of his old protector, who has contracted a degenerative brain disease that, coupled with his telepathic abilities, has caused the government to categorize his brain as a weapon of mass destruction.

Logan, who has taken to driving around clients in a limousine that will inevitably be used as a getaway vehicle at some point, is implored by a stranger (played by Elizabeth Rodriguez) to protect a young girl named Laura (Dafne Keen) from forces who would kill the woman and kidnap the girl. A quick escape is necessary, and so Logan and Charles are to escort the girl to a safe zone in North Dakota, while shaking off the head of the facility organizing the abduction, Dr. Rice (Richard E. Grant), and the henchman-in-charge (played by Boyd Holbrook, who nicely chews the scenery with his exaggerated Southern accent). It turns out, though, that Logan isn’t so special even now, as Laura exhibits many of his traits and the villains showcase their own weapon, which is another kind of callback to Logan’s past. Some of the material with these villains is a bit routine, but thankfully it’s window-dressing here.

The film is also the first to feature a treatment of Logan’s superpower as a genuinely threatening weapon of brute force, with his signature knuckle-blades slashing and dicing and stabbing with appropriately gruesome results. The action sequences hit with the requisite strength of Mangold’s considerate staging, which makes sense of movement and geography while glorying in the quick-cutting style that enhances Logan’s combative abilities. Every confrontation between Logan and Rice’s minions is swift and brutal and pile-drives most of the action sequences that dominate the PG-13 superhero landscape these days. Fortunately, there is more on the mind of the director and his fellow screenwriters in Logan, which has more on its mind than tedious plot. There’s a sense of weary tragedy here, and that’s more than enough to set this film apart from and above the same, old same-old.

We Are the Flesh

by 39frames, posted in Film Review

We Are the Flesh

2017.  Directed by Emiliano Rocha Minter.

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Transgressive cinema is a mixed bag, and most assuredly not for everyone.  Emiliano Rocha Minter’s We Are the Flesh is an exceptional entry into the genre and a resounding assault on any sense of discretion or restraint.  This is a prime example of offensive cinema.  Featuring non-simulated sexual acts, otherworldly cinematography, and visceral depictions of necrophilia and cannibalism, this is a film that is not for the faint of heart, pushing the boundaries of art versus pornography while delivering a scathing commentary on the degradation of Mexican culture by way of institutional corruption.

The premise involves a sibling couple that stumbles into the lunatic playground of a hermit within the heart of a post-apocalyptic city.  In exchange for food and shelter the brother and sister are forced to participate in an escalating series of deviant sexual escapades that coalesce into an oedipal nightmare.  Yollotl Alvarado’s renegade camerawork is the entire filthy ordeal.  Bathed in sleazy sepia and primordial crimson, every frame of this film is a traumatic experience rendered with bodily fluids.  The compositions, once the initial shock passes, are outstanding, clearly displaying Minter’s classical film roots while evolving into a nascent orgy of sex and violence that does not relent.

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If there is a flaw, it is the heavy handedness of the social references as the film lasers in on Mexico’s seething discord which results in disproportionate amounts of “telling” versus the brilliance of the film’s “showing”.  There are patches of dialogue and an unspeakable rendition of the national anthem that may be interpreted differently based on the viewer’s cultural background, but the intent is undeniable and the ramifications are disquieting and accusatory.  Manuela Garcia’s art direction is a direct representation of these concepts, depicting a masking tape womb in a poisoned world, filled with horror and lust in equal amounts.  Maria Evoli’s performance as Fauna is the standout, displaying uncharacteristic courage and inhuman sex appeal that carries the disjointed narrative to its insane resolution.

 

Available now on a stunning, blu ray release by Arrow Video.  This is a one of a kind film that quite frankly is not for anyone who is easily offended or repulsed.  Featuring soul tainting visuals, purposefully repugnant content, and a delirious story about the wholesale slaughter of a country’s innocence, We Are the Flesh is a unique offering in an adult only genre.  If you’re brave, and extremely open minded, this film “might” be for you, but be warned, you cannot unsee the dark wonders this movie has to offer.

 

Highly (But Extremely Cautiously) Recommend.

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