King Ivory: Fentanyl On-Screen

This film tries to be for fentanyl what Scarface was for cocaine and New Jack City was for crack. It might not capture a comparable cult following, but nobody can accuse it of glamorizing the trade or abuse of narcotics. Fentanyl corrupts and kills, but not just in big bad New York or Miami. Oklahoma becomes the site of a deadly turf battle throughout director-screenwriter John Swab’s King Ivory, which opens this Friday in theaters.

Thanks to the economics of fentanyl manufacture, numerous mini-cartels have driven most of the large traditional cartels out of business. Only two of the two traditional giants remain in business, largely due to their superior ruthlessness. One of those notorious behemoths intends to move into the Oklahoma market, but that territory has always been controlled an indigenous criminal organization IBH.

Holt Lightfeather remains their leader, even though he is serving a life sentence for murder. It is there that he recruits George “Smiley” Greene to be his new fix-it man. Greene did not apply for the position, nor can he decline the appointment, At least he gets an early release to launch countermeasures against the cartels encroaching from Mexico and California.

Oklahoma drug cop Layne West is also focused on the Mexican cartel, especially Ramon Garza, whom he tied to a deadly human trafficking operation that negligently killed dozens of illegal migrants. Despite such horrors, West’s own drug-addicted son Jack helps to underwrite the cartels’ violence with his compulsive usage. Frankly, West and his wife Tess know they are losing him, but they are unable to breakthrough his Gen-Z petulance. Even West’s partner, Ty Grady, whom Jack regards as a beloved uncle-figure, cannot reach him.

Fentanyl is having a cinematic moment with two films addressing it illicit trade hitting theaters this week (the other being Muzzle: City of  Wolves). Even though Swab ignores the CCP regime’s complicity in the international fentanyl supply chain, King Ivory (referring to the drug’s street name) rings with authenticity. It is not set in Oklahoma by accident. The state aptly represents the kind of working-class “red state” communities that have been devastated by opiates. It also happens to be the site of some uniquely Balkanesque turf  battles, which Swab and company explore in fascinating detail.

Even though Swab never aspires for a docu-drama tone, King Ivory often feels uncomfortably real. It is the sort of film that grabs you by the lapels and slaps you across he chops. Admittedly, that does not sound like a lot of fun, but it certainly is eye-opening.

King Ivory also boasts at least a half dozen shockingly good performances. Notably, the late great Graham Greene is frighteningly intense as the ruthless Lightfeather. Instead of the middling Icefall, King Ivory should be considered his final film, because it serves as a brilliant capstone to a culturally significant career.

Likewise, Ben Foster equals his most idiosyncratic career highlights with his portrayal of emphysemic Greene, who somehow credibly strangles prison inmates, while wheezing through his tracheal hole. Foster’s quiet brooding is perfectly complimented by Ritchie Coster’s loudmouth bluster as Greene’s uncle and mentor in the Irish mob, Mickey Greene.

Stefan Ruzowitzky’s Icefall

Sometimes ice and snow make a thriller more thrilling, like Cliffhanger, Insomnia, and The Thing. And sometimes they don’t. At least this excursion to Northern Central Montana continues the trend of thrillers that tell viewers to respect their local game wardens and park rangers, represented by Joe Picket, Wind River, and Untamed. Just buy those darned hunting licenses. Unfortunately, poachers will be the least of newly hired game warden Ani Bayawaa’s concerns in Stefan Ruzowitzky’s Icefall, which releases tomorrow on VOD.

Rhodes’ gang successfully heisted millions of dollars from the Bulgarian mob, but the plane carrying the loot crashed into a lake in Montana Blackfoot territory that soon froze over. As the water started to thaw, one of their black cases rose to the surface while rugged Harlan was ice-fishing. He is not exactly the license-buying type, so Bayawaa [rightly] assumes he is a poacher. The big container full of money makes her even more suspicious, but they soon find themselves working together to survive when the tracking device leads Rhodes’ goons to them.

Technically, Pen prefers to think of himself as an ex-goon, because the indigenous local was born again after the heist. However, Rhodes does not except resignations. Regardless, Pen can tell Bayawaa and Harlan better understand the land and the dangers it represents than his fellow crooks.

Ruzowitzky’s empathy for the indigenous characters (including Pen) and Harlan, a veteran of Afghanistan, is all to the film’s credit, but in most other respects, Icefall is a middling thriller. Frankly, he might have gone back to the ice-fishing hole once too often, because his wintery Deadfall was quite good. Unfortunately, Icefall isn’t at the same level, the “fall” notwithstanding.

Once again, Joel Kinnaman is maybe a little too strong and silent as Harlan. Cara Jade Myers does not bring much warmth or energy to the film either as Bayawaa. However, Martin Sensmeier really stands out (in the right way) as the conflicted and brooding Pen. He helps create an intriguing character, whose Christian conversion is treated with respect by Ruzowitzky and screenwriters Steve Isles and George Mahaffey, but not necessarily by his former criminal associates.

Tar: It Came from La Brea

The La Brea tar pits are like ultimate primordial burial ground and the city of Los Angeles was basically developed right over them (and you know what happens to people who build over ancient remains in horror films). From time to time, the pits have appeared in movies, typically of the disaster variety. In this one, the evicted tenants of a down-market office building will not be lucky enough to have a conventional natural disaster to contend with. Instead, they must fight off something monstrous that has survived below in Aaron Wolf’s Tar, which opens this Friday in drive-ins and a few of those places where they project movies.

Things were strained between Zach Greenwood and his father Barry, even before their scummy landlord Sebastien Stirling terminated their decades-old lease with one day’s notice, forcing them to vacate, clean, and repaint by 6:00 am, or face $100K in penalties. Suddenly, they are scrambling to save the family repair business, as is the neighbor, accountant Diana Dunder of DD Accounting (if you don’t get the joke now, you’ll know it when you see it).

Of course, Greenwood’s slacker pal Ben is too busy not helping Dunder to do anything for him and his dad. At least their palm-reading assistant Marigold is an efficient packer. However, when the power is suddenly cut, it really sets them back—and then the mysterious “Tar Man” creature attacks.

Initially, Wolf creates a terrific group dynamic for the hodge-podge office mates and effectively establishes the tar-thing’s back-story through the legends told by “Carl,” the homeless La Brea story-teller. However, he relies a little too heavily on Greenwood family flashbacks and lets the attitude dissipate somewhat during the second half, as the monster-stalking-his-prey business overshadows the characters’ snarky arguments and horny double-entendre. In fact, viewers will probably be surprised how upset they get when supporting characters start to meet their genre-mandated fate.

Indeed, Tar has an unusually strong ensemble for a tongue-in-cheek monster movie half-spoof. Tiffany Shepis, Nicole Alexandra Shipley, and Dani Fernandez all earn big laughs as Marigold, Dunder, and her assistant, Carmenia. Stuart Stone oozes slime as Stirling, while Max Perlich projects flinty grit and wiry strength as Greenwood’s flashback grandpa. Similarly, Timothy Bottoms personifies world-weary regret as Barry Greenwood.