Mononoke the Movie: Chap. II—The Ashes of Rage, on Netflix

It is a term rich with anime and folkloric significance. “Mononoke” are vengeful spirits, not unlike yokai. Miyazaki’s “Princess Mononoke” was not really a mononoke, but rather a human foundling who had a rapport with spirit creatures. The mononoke of the Mononoke anime and manga franchise are definitely mononoke. In fact, they are about as mononoke as they get. It is the “Medicine Seller’s” calling to exorcise them. Think of him as a medicine man, in that he holds shaman-like powers and peddles medicinal cures. He cuts an odd figure, but even the most secretive and powerful players in the Edo court will not turn him away when an enraged spirit terrorizes their Lord’s harem chambers in Kenji Nakamura & Kiyotaka Suzuki’s Mononoke the Movie: Chapter II—The Ashes of Rage, produced by Toei Animation, which premieres today on Netflix.

Thanks to the Medicine Seller, the Lord Tenshi’s concubines already survived one incredibly put-out mononoke in the previous film (which was a continuation from the 2007 anime series). Unfortunately, just when you thought it was safe to go back to harem’s super-restricted Ooku, another mononoke strikes. Obviously, the Medicine Seller needs to investigate, but his all-access pass is no longer valid, because it was issued by the former Ooku manager—now deceased.

Tensions were rising in the Ooku, even before the new mononoke peril emerged. The unseen Tenshi’s favorite, Fuki Tokita is showing signs of pregnancy, which should be a good thing, because an heir is needed. However, Tokita hails from “common stock,” even though we would probably consider her family middle to upper-middle class, from out contemporary perspective. Regardless, the prospect of debasing the Imperial lineage with common stock and allowing a less than pristinely noble family that kind of influence has the elite power-brokers alarmed.

Botan Otomo is perfectly placed to take action. She was selected to serve as the new Ooku manager because of her family’s power and prestige. As Tokita’s longtime rival, she openly resents Fuki’s inappropriately close relationship with Tenshi. However, she also feels loyalty to her Imperial lord and his prospective heir, whoever it might be. Instead, it is the angry mononoke of a wronged concubine who terrorizes the Ooku halls. Yet, before the Medicine Seller can dispel it, he must learn the reason for its grudge—much like Christian exorcists need a demon’s name to take dominion over it.

Without question, Nakamura’s Mononoke films represent an energizing respite from overly slick (and consequently soulless) 3D computer generated animation. While digital techniques were employed, the Mononoke features have an eye-popping, mind-blowing baroque style that resemble a fusion of Edo-era ukiyo-e woodcuts with Peter Max headshop posters. Each frame is an absolute explosion of color. Frankly, it is a good thing Ashes of Rage is a relative shorty, because extended exposure to the utterly distinctive animation could induce sensory overload. Yet, it is always wildly cool to behold.

A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder, on Netflix

Many English and Welsh students must write an EPQ, sort of like a senior thesis. Pip Fitz-Amobi had two ideas. She could write something safe and stupid about “feminism in gothic literature,” or re-open the investigation into a local murder, hopefully clearing the name of an older student she thought highly of. Option 2 might actually make the world a better place, but it would be very dangerous. She chooses the more perilous course in creator Poppy Corgan’s six-episode A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder, which starts streaming today on Netflix.

Fitz-Amobi is smart, but her EQ is questionable. Nevertheless, she has a loyal core group of friends who represent varying degrees of geekiness. Five years ago, she idolized seniors Andie Bell and her boyfriend Sal Singh, both of whom were cool to her. Consequently, she never believed Singh killed Bell and then committed suicide, so she intends to find the real killer for her EPQ.

Initially, she investigates like a bull in a China shop, greatly offending Singh’s younger brother Ravi. Nevertheless, her earnestness eventually wins him over, so they join forces. Awkwardly, their suspicions soon fall on the older, more popular sister of Pip’s best friend. It appears those mean posh kids lied about when poor Singh left that fateful night, thereby denying him his rightful alibi. They also soon discover Bell sold drugs to the group, at the behest of a bigger dealer, including the date-rape cocktails employed by wealthy predator, Max Hastings.

The revelation of Bell’s lurid secrets very much feel like they are modeled on the secret life of Twin Peaks’ Laura Palmer, while the rapport between Fitz-Amobi and her pals is similar in tone to CW’s Nancy Drew, especially when they break out the Ouija board. It is definitely a lot like a lot of other shows, including Dead Hot, but at least these teens are not so compulsively promiscuous (how could anyone be?).

Emma Meyers and Zain Iqbal both have a lot of screen charisma as Fitz-Amobi and the younger Singh brother. They also develop some pleasant chemistry together. However, most of her friends are boring and poorly differentiated in terms of personality. Demographics and sexual identity are poor substitutes for meaningful character. The adults are also a pretty lame lot, uncharacteristically including Anna Maxwell Martin, who is sadly under-utilized as Fitz-Amobi’s John Hughes-ish mom, Leanne.

Django, on Netflix

He still comes to town dragging a mysterious casket, but this time, the spaghetti western legend carries a lot more emotional baggage. Much of it is guilt stemming from the fate of his long-lost daughter Sarah, his only surviving family member. They will soon be reunited, rather awkwardly, in co-creator-writers Leonardo Fasoli & Maddalena Ravagli’s ten-part series reboot Django, which premieres tomorrow on Netflix.

This time around, “Django” (the totally unremarkable, everyday alias he adopted) is a veteran of the Confederate army rather than the Union Blue. Eventually, we learn he only signed up for the enlistment bonus he thought he needed for his desperately poor family. Unfortunately, war changed Django, so he decided to stay away when it ended. Tragically, he learned too late his family needed his protection.

He has followed a lead to New Babylon, a town of mostly freedmen that looks like it was built by Ewoks. The leader, John Ellis, has been feuding with the ultra-judgmental “Lady” Elizabeth, who is leads a gang of marauding moralizers in the neighboring town. They have some very personal history together, which is partly why her Pops deeded the land for New Babylon to Ellis.

Despite their considerable age difference, Ellis is engaged to Sarah. It is a bit off-putting to some, considering he raised her like a daughter after the tragedy-to-be-revealed-later, especially to his son Seymour, who carries his own slightly incestuous torch for Sarah. Initially, she resents Django’s sudden reappearance, but he is quite helpful saving the good citizens of New Babylon from Elizabeth’s goons.

Django best approximates the neo-spaghetti Western it wants to be through its multinational co-production funding structure. English was probably the fourth or fifth language you would have most likely heard on set, even though it is an English-language production (albeit with considerable over-dubbing). However, it lacks the stark archetypal emotional simplicity of real vintage spaghetti westerns. When it is all said and done, there is practically nothing about Django that we won’t know. For this genre, that kind of over-sharing is annoying.

Fasoli and Ravagli build to a revelation linking the two families that is supposed to be grandly tragic but is really just contrived. However, the climactic gun fight in episode ten is a real barn-burner that partially makes up for all the slow brooding (yes, that is when the you-know-what finally comes out).

Matthias Schoenaerts (Bullhead) has the right quiet hulking presence for Django (was his name-O), but he must spend more time on daddy issues than gunning down bad guys. Nicholas Pinnock has a convincing swagger and wears the mantle of flawed moral authority quite well as the senior Ellis. However, Lisa Vicari consistently kills any momentum the series might have built up with her whiny portrayal of Sarah. Noomi Rapace maybe fairs even worse. She is cartoony in the wrong kind of way as Lady Elizabeth.

Extraction 2, on Netflix

Apparently, if you want to kill Tyler Rake, you must drop him in a vat of molten steel, like Robert Patrick in T2. When we last saw Rake in the first film, he fell off a very large bridge in Bangladesh after getting riddled with bullets. However, the film established he could hold his breath under water for a very long time, so there’s that. Regardless, Rake is still alive, so best of luck to all the bad guys who try to kill him in Sam Hargrave’s Extraction 2, which premieres today on Netflix.

At least #2 acknowledges things really looked bad for Rake. As a result, he spends weeks in a coma before undergoing months of rehab. His merc boss Nik Khan just wants him to quietly retire so he can work on all the emotional issues that fueled his near-death wish, but that won’t be happening.

Instead, he agrees to rescue his estranged ex-wife’s sister, young niece, and annoying pre-teen nephew from the heckhole Georgian Republic prison, where they are forced to live with the druglord brother-in-law. Clearly, Davit Radiani still has the juice to demand such accommodations, despite being convicted of murdering an American DEA agent. Understandably, being incarnated with the abusive Radiani is slowly killing Ketevan and her children, but the worshipful Sandro is too brainwashed to see his father’s true nature, or that of his psychotic uncle Zurab. Regardless, Rake will bust them out anyway, whether Sandro likes it or not, with the reluctant help and considerable logistical support provided by Khan and her younger brother Yaz.

The first Extraction, also helmed by Hargrove and written by the Russo Brothers and graphic novelist Andre Parks, had plenty of action and considerable body-count, but #2 surpasses it in all ways. As fans would expect, Chris Hemsworth’s Rake is still quite a one-man killing machine.

However, the big news is how Iranian exile Golshifteh Farahani really comes into her own as a breakout action star. Khan was also part of the climactic shoot-out in #1, but she possibly caps as many bad guys in #2 as Rake does. She is in the thick of it, right from the start, but it is not to make any stilted statement. Khan and Rake are really partners in the on-screen action (technically, he works for her, but you get the point).

That said, Hemsworth still anchors the most brutal hand-to-hand beatdown, as Rake escorts Ketevan through a full-on prison riot, which even overshadows the complicated escape sequence it bleeds into, involving cars, helicopters, and a speeding train. #2 features an extended 21-minute long-take, but viewers will not really notice the technique, because the stunt work is so intense.

Red Rose, on Netflix

Gen. X has always been paranoid about online privacy—and constantly vindicated for it. You won’t find the Underrated Generation downloading the evil app of this new British series, but Gen Z reliably falls into its trap. Malware doesn’t get much nastier than the app driving the Clarkson (Michael & Paul) Twins’ eight-part Red Rose, which premieres today on Netflix.

Rochelle “Roch” Mason is smart and tough, but she is keenly aware of family’s lowly economic status. She is also still grieving, and embarrassed by, her mother’s suicide. That makes her a prime target for the predatory Red Rose, which presumably just drove the teenaged girl in the Scream-like prologue to commit suicide. Initially, the app gives her life-coaching prompts that seem to improve her standing. However, it also cuts her off from contact with her tight-knit circle of friends. It even sends texts and social media posts guaranteed to isolate Mason from her support system. Finally, it apparently summons the voice of her mother, from beyond the grave, to torment her.

Not to be spoilery, but Wren Davies will have reason to suspect the Red Rose app had a sinister influence on her former friend, so she will download it too, to see for herself. Unlike Mason, Davies tries her best to experience Red Rose in the presence of her friends, so they can bear witness to its evil tricks. Of course, nobody will believe them, except Jaya Mahajan, a computer geek classmate with hipster-hacker connections, who becomes a post-graduation addition to their friend group.

Mahajan is a critical addition to the series as well, preventing it from becoming an eight-part rehash of Unfriended: Dark Web. Thanks to her, they get proactive, instead of simply sitting around waiting to die (or hastening the process). Ashna Rabheru’s portrayal is convincingly intelligent, as well as charismatic. Frankly, the series probably should have focused on her from the start. She far outshines Amelia Clarkson and Isis Hainsworth, playing Davies and Mason. Plus, if there is ever a second season, she would have to be one of the central figures.

The Pale Blue Eye, on Netflix

Despite his frail, dissolute image, Edgar Allan Poe fared rather well as an Army enlisted man, rising to the rank of Sergeant Major. Rather unconventionally, his success as a soldier convinced his patron to secure Poe an appointment to West Point, where he effectively started over, as the Academy’s oldest cadet. He is now probably the most celebrated cadet to be court martialed and expelled. As this films starts, Poe has not yet completely sabotaged his officer prospects, but he is happy to assist Det. Augustus Landor’s investigation, at the expense of his studies in Scott Cooper’s The Pale Blue Eye, which premieres Friday on Netflix.

Remember, Poe’s reputation as a drunken basket case is largely the result of a slanderous biography, written by his greatest literary rival, Rufus Wilmot. However, all objective sources agree Poe did not thrive under the Academy’s discipline. The cadet found strung-up in a noose presumably had it worse. It certainly looks suspicious, especially when the body is subsequently mutilated in a ritualistic manner, so the Superintendent (a position that would be held by Robert E. Lee and William Westmoreland) recruits retired New York City Det. Landor to investigate death, which becomes the first of several violent crimes.

Despite Poe’s poetic soliloquys, Landor recognizes the cadet’s intelligence, so he recruits him to be his eyes and ears. Eager to help cast an unflattering light on the military academy, Poe immediately accepts. However, as Poe ingratiates himself with the dead cadet’s social circle, largely through heavy drinking, he falls for Lea Marquis, the sister of the Academy’s alpha cadet and the daughter of West Point’s physician, the questionably competent Dr. Daniel Marquis.

Essentially, Pale Blue Eye is a mystery, but Cooper’s adaptation of Louis Bayard’s source novel cleverly incorporates elements of gothic horror and the occult. Yet, the final revelation sequence rivals the conclusions of some of the best Agatha Christie films.

Compared to William Mosley in Raven’s Hollow and John Cusack in The Raven, Harry Melling might be the most Poe-looking movie Poe yet. Melling still portrays Poe as a bit of mess, but a romantic, romanticizing mess, rather than non-functional Wilmot-suggested mess. However, Christian Bale is even more compelling as the grizzled and tormented Landor.  He slow burns like nobody’s business. Plus, Toby Jones is appropriately squirrelly and off-puttingly nebbish as Dr. Marquis and Timothy Spall is suitably gruff as Superintendent Player.

Inside Man, on Netflix

Statistics indicate most murders are committed by close friends or family members. Jefferson Grieff agrees and he ought to know. The criminologist brutally murdered and decapitated his wife. However, he is still accepting cases on a special, limited-time-only basis, until his sentence is carried out. Perhaps the Nero-Wolfe-on-death-row can save a woman an ocean away in Steven Moffat’s four-part Inside Man, which premieres today on Netflix.

What does a proper English vicar like Harry Watling have to do with Grieff? They might just become fellow murderers, through an agonizingly torturous chain of events. Being truly charitable, Watling took Edgar, a disturbed young parolee, into his vicarage. Having too much sympathy, he agreed to hold Edgar’s flash drive full of adult material so his domineering mother would not find it. Not really thinking about, he took it home, where his son gave it to his math (or rather “maths” since they are British) tutor, Janice Fife. Disturbingly, the models depicted therein were decidedly not of age.

Fearing for his son’s reputation but mindful of his vows, Watling tries to explain, but the misunderstandings quickly escalate. Panic leads to further misinterpretations and before you know it, Watling has Fife locked in the cellar. So far, only journalist Lydia West suspects Fife might be missing, but they only just met in the prologue, so she can’t credibly report her missing to the police. However, she can ask the advice of her reluctant interview subject, Grieff.

The are two halves to inside man. One half features Grieff who is ruder than Cumberbatch’s Sherlock, but let’s face it, he does not have much left to lose. Since Grieff cannot have metal implements, he uses the photographic memory of fellow convicted murderer Dillon Kempton as his note-taking device. Their Holmes-and-Watson routine is jolly good fun to watch.

The other half is the incredibly manipulative and uncomfortable Job-like plague of troubles that rain down on the Watling family, who Moffat carefully establishes are good, decent folk, simply to make Grieff’s point anybody can become a murderer under the right circumstances. However, the succession of Rube Goldberg-like one-darned-things-after-another that befall the Watley family are wildly contrived, stretching believability past its breaking point. Witnessing their anguish and desperation is no fun whatsoever. Making him a vicar really feels like extra mean-spirited piling on, but admittedly, it adds further moral dimensions to dilemma.

Stanley Tucci chews the scenery marvelously as Grieff and his bantering chemistry with Atkins Estimond, as the brutish but often quite witty Kempton, is thoroughly entertaining. Dylan Baker is also terrific as Warden Casey, who is also rather droll and cleverer than you would expect for government employee.

David Tennant might be too good as Watling, because it is just painful watching him implode. On the other hand, something about both Dolly Wells as Fife and Lyndsey Marshal as Watling’s wife Mary seems off—like they constantly say and do things to raise the stakes, elevate the pressure, and further confuse the situation.

The Anthrax Attacks, on Netflix

According to the U.S. Postal Service creed: “neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.” However, a domestic terror campaign shut down the mail processing facility in Brentwood, Maryland. That aspect of the chaotic sequence of events is what most concern’s Dan Krauss’s documentary, The Anthrax Attacks, which premieres Thursday on Netflix.

The nation was already unnerved by the September 11^th terror attacks when the first Anthrax spores struck their target. It was a confused time, but the FBI mobilized significant resources to capture the perpetrator. However, their investigation was somewhat compromised, because they were being advised by the man they were hunting, USAMRIID researcher, Dr. Bruce Ivins. At least he is the presumed Anthrax weaponizer.

In many ways, the epic investigation was unprecedented, so much of the criticism Krauss airs seems like cheap Monday morning quarterbacking. Yes, the FBI Director and Attorney General kept constant tabs on the investigation. Otherwise, they easily could have been lambasted for negligent disinterest, given the extraordinary circumstances.

Likewise, the amount of time it took fully test and disinfect the Brentwood facility is presented as an unconscionable scandal, but the Feds were in a damned-if-they-did-damned-if-they-didn’t situation. Life was much more dependent on the U.S. Mail in 2001, especially for things like Social Security checks, utility payments, and small business invoicing. Honestly, it is as easy to imagine poor grannies complaining on-camera how they nearly starved, because they couldn’t get their social security. Plus, there was that institutional “neither snow nor rain” ethos that mail delivery must remain on schedule.

Nesher’s Image of Victory, on Netflix

For the Israelis, the Battle of Nitzanim was their greatest loss during their victorious War of Independence. For the Egyptians, it was a tactically meaningless victory, but it was carefully documented by a newsreel crew, to distract from the sting of losing the war. Despite their differences, both losses brought great national trauma. The battle and its surrounding circumstances are vividly brought to life in Avi Nesher’s Image of Victory, which starts streaming tomorrow on Netflix.

Residents of the Nitzanim kibbutz are keenly aware of its precarious location, so they constantly petition the military for greater defenses. Of course, such resources will be stretched thin after the Declaration of 1948. Both the residents and the garrisoned military personnel are about as rag-tag as it got in Israel’s early days. Many among the Defense Force had recently enlisted their way out of prison, joining several Holocaust survivors, both within their ranks and living at the kibbutz.

Mira Ben-Ari is the free-spirit of Nitzanim, but the European émigré is also a true believer in the kibbutz system. She has control of Nitzanim’s sole radio, so when Avraham Schwarzstein, the garrison commander, wants to run an operation, he has to take her with him. However, she can shoot.

Literally yards away, virulently anti-Semitic (CUNY calls it “anti-Zionism”) Egyptian journalist Mohamed Hassanein Heikal is embedded in a hostile Arab village, first with a squad of volunteer militia, and then with the official Egyptian army, once it declares war. The real army could take Nitzanim at any time, but such small potatoes are not worth their time and resources—until it becomes clear Egypt will lose this war—embarrassingly badly. King Farouk demands a “victory” Hassanein’s crew can package into face-saving propaganda for the Egyptian public. That was Nitzanim, but something about the way Ben-Ari conducted herself defending her home haunts Hassanein up until the in media res opening, set during the Camp David Accords.

Image is not unjustly described as an “anti-war” film, but it is somewhat unusual in that it critiques the war from both Israeli and Egyptian standpoints. Arab supremacists like Hassanein clearly wanted to pursue war to prosecute their prejudices, regardless of the human costs. Similarly, some of the Israeli hardliners (often “political officers” modeled on their Soviet counterparts) were too willing to sacrifice isolated settlers, like the Nitzanim kibbutzers, for “the greater good.”

Operation Mincemeat, on Netflix

Actor M.E. Clifton James helped pull off one of the most famous deceptions of WWII, by serving as Gen. Montgomery’s double. Glyndwr Michael was at the center of an even more audacious counter-intelligence operation, but he was already dead at the time. For the sake of all the young servicemen slated for the invasion of Sicily, the officers and staff at the British Admiralty’s intelligence division launch a desperate mission to convince German the landing will come in Greece. Their efforts are chronicled in John Madden’s Operation Mincemeat, which premieres today on Netflix.

The film starts at zero-hour, when the Mincemeat staff can do nothing more but prey, which they solemnly do. It is actually one of the most effective and powerful in media res film openings in recent years. A few short months earlier, Lt. Commander Ewen Montagu and Squadron Leader Charles Cholmondely were assigned to Operation Mincemeat, designed to plant false intelligence to draw Hitler’s forces away from Sicily. Although their commanding officer, Rear Admiral John Godfrey was skeptical, they were convinced they needed to tie their fabricated intel to an actual body, for the Germans to ever believe it. Godfrey’s aide, Ian Fleming happened to agree with them and ultimately so did Churchill.

Although the historically-based characters are rarely directly in harm’s way from the Axis, there is the tension of a ticking clock driving the narrative. It is also surprisingly compelling to watch the two officers and their civilian assistants become emotionally involved in the fictitious lives they create for the invented “Maj. William Martin” and his faithful girlfriend, like authors developing feelings for their fictional characters.

Despite the cerebral nature of the story, Madden builds a good deal of suspense. Ironically, a lot of it comes from the number of Spanish officials who tried to act in good conscience, in accordance with their ostensive neutrality. It took a lot of sly machinations on the part of the local British consul (nicely played by Alex Jennings) to appeal to their fascist inclinations.

On the other hand, there is a distracting minor subplot ginning up paranoia over suspicion Montagu’s brother Ivor was a Soviet spy, which he was indeed, but apparently only briefly and with little tangible results. The portrayal of Churchill is a bit of a caricature, but it also shows that he was nobody’s fool. However, the film does a great job conveying tactics, strategy, and the general wartime environment.

Schwochow’s Munich: The Edge of War

If we let the CCP blatantly violate the Sino-British Joint Declaration, openly turn Hong Kong into a police state, and engage in hostile militarism throughout the South China Sea, maybe they will be satisfied and start acting nice. After all, appeasement was a smashing success when Hitler was given the Sudetenland, right? Actually, it was Neville Chamberlain’s agreement that gave appeasement the bad name it deserves. Young British foreign office bureaucrat Hugh Legat sees that infamous history unfold as an aide to Chamberlain in Christian Schwochow’s Munich: The Edge of War, based on Robert Harris’s novel, which opens today in New York, in advance of its January 21^st premiere on Netflix.

Initially, Legat is more concerned with helping Chamberlain prevent a European war than resolving the Cold War brewing between him and his wife. It is really bad timing when he is attached to the Prime Minister’s Munich delegation and also quite a surprise. It turns out Paul von Hartman, a German government interpreter, pulled some strings with his military contacts to request Legat’s presence. They were friends at Oxford, but had a falling out over Hitler. At the time, von Hartman was an enthusiastic supporter, but now that he knows the Fuhrer’s true intentions, he is profoundly alarmed.

Von Hartman believes elements in the military will turn against Hitler Valkyrie-style if the British hold firm on their commitments to Czechoslovakia. He also has a damning document that spells out Hitler’s expansionist military plans in detail. He needs Legat to help him convince Chamberlain, but even if his old friend agrees to help, it is highly questionable whether the war-averse PM will listen.

Ben Powers’ adaptation of Harris is a really smart thriller of espionage, politics, and bureaucratic in-fighting. However, some of its implications are highly debatable. Mild Spoiler: Edge ultimately presents an extremely revisionist defense of Chamberlain, arguing he bought time with his non-agreement for England to rebuild its military. Yet, on the other hand, it also posits a potential resistance to Hitler that was undercut by Chamberlain’s appeasement and obliquely implies Hitler’s also needed time to steel the resolve of the German people.

In any event, Schwochow (who has previously helmed sensitive historical dramas, like The German Lesson, West, and The Tower) mines a good deal of suspense from the brainy material and maintains even more tension regarding the fates of Legat and von Hartman. George Mackay and Jannis Niewohner nicely humanize the cerebral main characters and portray their complicated friendship with surprising poignancy down the stretch.

The Devil All the Time, on Netflix

You can still find Southern Gothic in Southern Ohio. Remember, it borders Kentucky and West Virginia. Indeed, the proximity of Knockemstiff, OH to Coal Creek, WV is clearly established in the early minutes of this decade-spanning thriller. Culture follows geography, but human nature is rotten wherever you find it in Antonio Campos’s adaptation of Donald Ray Pollock’s novel, The Devil All the Time, which premieres today on Netflix.

Willard Russell returned from his WWII service in the Pacific with his faith profoundly shaken. Yet, when he marries kind-hearted Charlotte, he starts to pray again, until tragedy befalls the family. It will be a lot for their young son Arvin to bear on his shoulders, but he trudges on, doing his best to look out for his grandmother and his “half-sister” Lenora Laferty. In this case, “half-sister” is more of an honorary title. Technically, she is the daughter of a family friend and her faith-healer husband, who has lived with the Russells since her parents came to a bad end.

Bringing people to bad ends is the specialty Carl and Sandy Henderson, husband-and-wife serial killers, who specifically target young, male hitchhikers. Sandy also happened to briefly work with Charlotte Russell in the diner, where they both met their future husbands. In the small world of Knockemstiff and Coal Creek, Sandy Henderson also happens to be the sister of Lee Bodecker, the corrupt local sheriff. Whenever someone crosses paths with people like them, bad things surely happen.

If you get past the initial wartime crucifixion and a faith-healing train wreck, the character of Rev. Preston Teagardin, a sexually predatory Elmer Gantry-figure, might lead you to conclude the film is reflexively hostile to Christianity, but that really would not be fair. If you see the film through, it ultimately feels like a dark but profoundly moral thriller, very much in the tradition of Night of the Hunter. One thing is certain—both God and the Devil will try men’s souls dearly as the narrative unfolds.

Unfold it does, with the help of both Pollocks’ words (faithfully adapted by Antonio & Paulo Campos) and his voice, providing the ironic narration. It is actually one of the rare instances when voiceovers really bring something to a picture.

Shine Your Eyes: From Lagos to Sao Paulo

Aptitude for music and mathematics come from the same part of the brain, so it rather follows Ikenna Igbomaeze was good at both. In Lagos, he played in an Afrobeat band with his younger brother Amadi, but he came to Sao Paulo to teach advanced statistics. Or so he told his family. With no communication from his older brother in over a year, Amadi has arrived to track him down. However, instead of a respectable academic, he learns his older brother turned into either a con man or a mad, delusional genius. Either way, Ikenna seems to be avoiding a reunion with his brother in Matias Mariani’s Shine Your Eyes, which launches globally this Wednesday on Netflix.

As the eldest brother, Ikenna is the one expected to assume responsibility for the Igbomaeze line. Yet, from Amadi’s perspective, his mother’s favoritism goes beyond the culturally-based expectations for the first-born. Regardless, Ikenna’s long absence is painful to her, so Amadi has come to dutifully collect him. Unfortunately, he quickly learns his brother faked his professorship. Instead, he spent a good deal of time at the horse track, where he apparently had a “system.” It is there he meets one of Ikenna’s cronies, Miro Kuzko, a Hungarian-Brazilian (and supposed university provost), who offers Amadi a place to crash.

Pursuing leads from Ikenna’s social media and abandoned laptop, Amadi manages to retrace his steps. However, a disturbing portrait starts to emerge of a mathematical mad man, who started to believe he could predict the underlying equations governing reality. You can definitely think of it in terms like The Matrix.

A lot of media descriptions play up Shine’s immigration angle and the fraternal Cain and Abel theme, but the film morphs into something like Aronofsky’s Pi, albeit a less science fiction-driven version. Still, Ikenna’s ferocious mania almost has us believing he cracked the universe’s code. It is a rather drastic change of pace from the last film Mariani co-directed (with Maira Buhler, who co-wrote Shine, along with Igbo screenwriter Chika Anadu), the mysterious post-modern documentary, I Touched All Your Stuff, but these two films certainly prove he has a knack for surprising viewers.

Fear City: New York vs. the Mafia

Even though he recently lost his mind, it is important to remember Rudy Giuliani saved New York not once, but twice. He restored law & order and economic vitality as mayor, but before that, he liberated the City from the tentacles of organized crime. As U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York, he spearheaded an unprecedented prosecution of New York’s “Five Families,” all at once. The FBI agents and prosecutors explain how they did it in the three-part documentary series Fear City: New York vs. the Mafia, directed by Sam Hobkinson, which premieres this Wednesday on Netflix.

The FBI had been trying for years to take down the Mafia, but to little avail, until an Ivy League law professor offered the FBI a free seminar on applying the relatively new RICO statute. For the special agents reluctantly attending, it was a revelation. RICO provided a legal framework to tie the bosses to the crimes of their captains and soldiers. This would be a game-changer when paired with greater wiretapping latitude and technology.

Fear City is largely told from the perspective of the FBI and prosecutors, which is actually a nice change from most Mafia-centric mob programming. As a result, there is no phony sentimentalizing the Mafia as some sort of “family”-style organization. Instead, they make it clear what predatory parasites they were. John Savarese, a young prosecutor Giuliani assigned to the case, explains he was particularly outraged by the Mafia’s crimes as an Italian-American, because the Mafia preyed on newly arrived Italian immigrants, forcing their way into their neighborhood businesses.

It will probably be particularly galling for the old thugs to see their longtime critic, Curtis Sliwa, making similar points in the opening (but nobody can deny he adds color). In addition to Savarese, we also hear from Giuliani himself, as well as his lead prosecutor, future Homeland Security Secretary Michael Chertoff, and many of the FBI Agents assigned to the Five Family-specific task forces. However, some of the wildest talking-head interviews and recreation-sequences feature the mysterious technician who placed their bugs, often literally under the bosses’ noses.

Sergio, the Netflix Movie (English & Portuguese Reviews)

(You can find a Portuguese translation below the following English review, courtesy of Angelica Sakurada. The Portuguese is hers. Any controversial opinions are entirely my own.)

It was not exactly the United Nation’s finest hour when it tapped China to join its Human Rights Council, despite its dismal record of press censorship, cultural genocide in East Turkestan, and the continuing oppression of religious worship (plus, they made whistleblowers in Wuhan disappear during the early days of the current global pandemic). Hypocrisy and corruption have long been rife throughout the UN bureaucracy, especially during the days of Kofi Annan’s administration. The one shining exception was Brazilian diplomat Sergio Vieira de Mello. He had the unique distinction among his UN peers for actually brokering equitable peace deals, but he was tragically killed by the Al-Qaeda faction that evolved into ISIS. After chronicling Vieira de Mello’s story in documentary form, Greg Barker retells it in the narrative feature simply-titled Sergio, which starts streaming this Friday on Netflix (after premiering at this year’s Sundance).

Vieira de Mello opposed the Iraq War—a fact Barker and screenwriter Craig Borten clearly do not want us to forget. In fact, they revel in his disagreements with Paul Bremer, the Administrator of the Coalition Provisional Authority of Iraq. Alas, it is no spoiler to mention the titular diplomat was killed during his Baghdad posting, because Barker uses it as a narrative device, flashing backwards to happier times, while U.S. Sergeants Bill von Zehle and Andre Valentine, firemen in civilian-life, struggle to unearth Vieira de Mello and his colleague, Gil Loescher, from the precarious rubble. Obviously, the prognosis looks bad.

Those better days include Vieira de Mello’s tenure as the UN’s Transitional Administrator for East Timor, where he negotiated the new nation’s peaceful independence from Indonesia. East Timor is also where the divorced High Commissioner meets Carolina Larriera, a micro-finance expert, who becomes his lover and UN colleague. Unfortunately, such distractions cause Vieira de Mello to neglect his sons. Indeed, family time is rare and awkward for the diplomat (sadly, a big pot of delicious shrimp moqueca is neglected during a short-lived family reunion).

Sergio’s biases are blatantly obvious, but they still probably could have been worse. Arguably, Bradley Whitford’s cartoonish portrayal of the nebbish Bremer as cynical villain is the most egregious aspect of the film. On the other hand, it forthrightly depicts the heroic efforts of von Zehle and Valentine to save Sergio and Loescher. It is worth noting von Zehle served as a technical advisor, which is a major reason why the rescue sequences are so tense and realistic.

Borten’s screenplay readily admits Vieira de Mello’s decision to evict the U.S. forces guarding the UN’s headquarters in Iraq left it directly vulnerable to terrorist attack. However, for some dubious reason, it omits al-Zarqawi’s cited motivation for the bombing in his statement of responsibility: the East Timor deal that result in a net loss of territory controlled by the Islamic Caliphate—in that case the Indonesian government.

As a film, Sergio moves along at a good pace and convincingly recreates the major events of his time, even though Barker and lead actor Wagner Moura are transparently mindful of protecting Vieira de Mello’s reputation throughout the film. They show some self-doubt and human weakness, but just enough to provide an opportunity for redemption. Ana de Armas is pretty believable expressing frustration with his workaholism and commitment phobia, but the character is largely defined in relationship to him.

Curtiz: The Man Behind Casablanca

It was banned in neutral Ireland, because it portrayed the National Socialists and the Vichy collaborators unfavorably, but for the rest of the world, Casablanca was an instant classic. It spawned two very short-lived TV series adaptations, but no filmmaker has dared remake such an iconic film. However, success was far from certain during its hectic production. Jewish-Hungarian émigré Michael Curtiz wrestles with his personal demons and interference from multiple quarters as he struggles to complete the beloved movie in Tamas Yvan Topolanszky’s mostly English-language Hungarian film Curtiz, which starts streaming today on Netflix.

Curtiz was born Mano Kaminer in Budapest, but he Hungarianized his name to Mihaly Kertesz and then anglicized it to Michael Curtiz when he arrived in America. When he started directing films for Warner Brothers, he already had a reputation as a master filmmaker from his European work—which his ego and casting couch proclivities reflected.

Casablanca is one of about a dozen films in-production on the Warner lot, but it is the only film the Office of War Information is interested in. That means Curtiz must endure constant demands and feedback from Mr. Johnson, a government bureaucrat consulting on the project. Jack Warner makes it pretty clear Curtiz is on his own, but he is still expected to make another hit. To further complicate matters, the director’s estranged daughter Kitty has taken a studio job as a way of worming her way back into his life. Curtiz and the screenwriters Philip & Julius Epstein cannot even settle on a decent ending. His only ally on the production is legendary producer Hal B. Wallis, but Curtiz does his best to alienate him with his diva-like behavior.

Topolanszky and co-screenwriter Zsuzsanna Bak rather shrewdly chose which of the Hollywood legends associated with Casablanca to portray on film and which to only show in shadows or out of focus. Both Jozsef Gyabronka and Christopher Krieg are really terrific as S.Z. Sakall (Curtiz’s fellow Hungarian émigré, who played Carl) and Conrad Veidt (who played Maj. Strasser), respectively. Frankly, Krieg’s turn as Veidt might just change the way you see Casablanca, which is meant as a very high compliment. The only other cast-member who gets legitimate screen time in Curtiz is Oscar Reyes portraying Dooley Wilson, but he is not much of a factor in the behind-the-scenes story.

The rest of the ensemble is also quite strong, fortunately including Ferenc Lengyel, who is appropriately imperious yet complex as the man himself. Scott Alexander Young’s Wallis also gives the film a conscious and a dry wit. Declan Hannigan similarly deserves credit for humanizing Johnson, at least until Topolanszky & Bak suddenly and problematically decide to dehumanize in an ill-advised narrative left-turn.

Mereilles’ The Two Popes, on Netflix

Pope Benedict XVI listens to Thelonious Monk. Pope Francis listens to ABBA. That alone pretty well tips the scales in Benedict’s favor. They might have booth spoken for God, but they are still mortal men. Yet, despite their political-theological differences they find they faith still unites them in Fernando Meirelles’ The Two Popes, which premieres today on Netflix.

Jorge Mario Bergoglio, the future Pope Francis, had no desire to be pontiff, but he found himself the chief runner-up when Pope Benedict was elected by the Vatican conclave. Disillusioned by the new Pope’s theological conservatism, Cardinal Bergoglio returns to Argentina and considers resigning from the College of Cardinals.

Just when Bergoglio petitions Pope Benedict to allow his resignation, the Pope summons him to Rome. The Holy See has been rocked by the Vatican bank scandal and Benedict’s health is in decline, but not his mind. Both men are at a crossroads, but they will have to have their doctrinal debates before they can get to the really profound truths regarding the Church and themselves.

In many ways, The Two Popes is a surprisingly humanistic portrait of two men who both served in one of the most influential positions on Earth. Although it is glaringly obvious Meirelles and screenwriter Anthony McCarton are more sympathetic to the liberalism of Francis, they still treat Benedict with a good deal of respect. Arguably, the film humanizes both Popes to a great extent.

Regardless, what makes the film is the remarkable casting. Both Sir Anthony Hopkins and Jonathan Pryce are absolute dead-ringers for Benedict and Francis, respectively. Of course, they both also happen to be very fine actors, but Hopkins finds more humor in his portrayal of the German Pope—and thereby creates an even more complex and human portrait.

Brad Anderson’s Fractured

In this case, better electronic medical record-keeping might have prevented an awful lot of trouble. Yes, that is the takeaway we’re going with. Ray Monroe gets a little concerned when a hospital that is more concerned with paperwork than bedside manner loses his wife and injured daughter in Brad Anderson’s Fractured, which premieres today on Netflix.

While driving across country, Ray and Joanne Monroe bicker like cats and dog, while their daughter Perri listens to CDs. When the disc-player’s batteries die, they pull for a pit stop (in fact, the hygiene-challenged service station is literally called “The Pit Stop”), where Perri takes a nasty fall after getting spooked by a snarling dog. The Monroes rush her to the nearest hospital, but the admitting department is more interested in her organ donation status than her injuries. Eventually, she is examined by a doctor, who recommends a CAT scan.

When Monroe awakens from a brief doze in the waiting room, his wife and daughter are nowhere to be found. To make matters worse, the hospital staff insists they were never there in the first place. When Monroe begs to differ, they first react dismissively and then become increasingly hostile, eventually reaching for the sedatives, but the desperate father won’t be having any of that.

Anderson has made a number of interesting genre films, like Vanishing on 7^th Street, Stonehearst Asylum, and Beirut, which is why Fractured is such a disappointment. The premise is somewhat old-hat to start with, but the film also seems to take forever to build up any steam. Still, Anderson and his intense star, Sam Worthington, manage to keep viewers invested enough to be annoyed by the predictable but still deeply unsatisfying conclusion. “All that for this,” viewers might ask.

In the Tall Grass: More Stephen King on Netflix

Say what you will about the cult kids in Children of the Corn, but at least they reaped bountiful harvests. In contrast, nothing productive will come from this evil stretch of grassland. Once wayward motorists enter, they can never find their way out in Vicenzo Natali’s In the Tall Grass, an adaptation of Stephen King & Joe Hill’s novella, which premieres today on Netflix.

Stephen King fanatics should note this takes place in Kansas, instead of his mini-Midwest world, encompassing Gatlin and Hemingford Home, Nebraska, but the scenery and sinister goings-on are not all that different. Kansas is a long, flat state to drive through, but grown siblings Becky (the pregnant one) and Cal DeMuth will still regret pulling over near a strange church. Hearing young Tobin Humboldt’s cries for help, they venture into the field, where they quickly find themselves lost and separated.

Apparently, young Humboldt has been in that grassy labyrinth for quite a while. One of those dusty cars parked in front of the church belongs to his parents, who are also trapped inside (evidently all those abandoned vehicles arouse no interest in the Highway Patrol). Tobin is a little weird, but he has some useful information for Cal when they stumble across each other, like the field never moves dead things. However, his father Ross just radiates bad vibes when Becky encounters him. Meanwhile, Travis McKean follows his long missing girlfriend Becky down that lonesome stretch of highway and into the tall grass.

Netflix’s previous King films were quite good, especially the terrific Gerald’s Game, so it is disappointing Tall Grass does not measure up to their standard. The set-up is reasonably intriguing, but as time and reality start to warp, the film loses any semblance of internal logic. The degree to which the film unequivocally equates Evangelical Christianity with primeval sacrificial death cults is also slightly churlish, even by King’s standards. Regardless, the frequency at which things start appearing just to dislodge the road-blocked narrative, like the bowling alley in the middle of nowhere, is conspicuously problematic.

The Perfection: Hell’s Cellos

Jazz is superior to classical music, because it values individuality of sound over note-for-note precision. That might be a bold statement, but Charlotte Willmore is probably ready to buy into it. She was once the brightest star at the world’s most prestigious academy for cellists, but not anymore. It is safe to say she had a bad experience there. When an opportunity arises, she will act on her pent-up frustrations in Richard Shepard’s The Perfection, which starts streaming today on Netflix.

Willmore was top of the heap at the academy, but she was forced to leave when her mother has a debilitating stroke. When the infirm woman finally dies years later, Willmore tentatively reaches out to Anton, her old headmaster. At his invitation, she appears at an academy event, where she meets their current reining star, Elizabeth Wells. A fast friendship with romantic overtones quickly develops between them. Willmore even agrees to accompany Wells on her vacation through China. At first, they have a great time together, but then things take a shockingly dark turn. Several more of those will follow.

Perfection is one of those films that requires a lot of cautious tap-dancing to avoid giving away spoilers in the review. The twists are definitely the thing, as we can tell from the way Shepard literally rewinds the film to show each how each surprise shoe really dropped. Unfortunately, the last big twist is so obvious, you can see it coming down Broadway, proceeded by a marching band. Honestly, it is annoying to twist yourself into a pretzel to avoid revealing plot turns that Shepard and co-screenwriters Eric Charmelo and Nicole Snyder give away through sheer lack of subtlety. On the other hand, the first act shocker that seems to bother people makes perfect sense within the context of the film.

Be that as it may, Allison Williams and Logan Browning both have gloriously unhinged moments as Willmore and Wells, respectively. It is not just them. Almost everyone seen on-screen eventually has their go-for-broke scenes. That is especially true of Steven Weber, who chews the scenery without guilt or restraint. We know he is a clay-footed hypocrite, because: #1: he is an authority figure, #2: he represents the elitist refinement of Western Culture, and #3: he is a man.

While the maniacal Bette Davis-Joan Crawford claw-fighting is jolly fun, the real guts of the film is pretty darned exploitative. Obviously, it is inspired by news stories like the U.S. Gymnastics scandal, but the vibe is shamelessly lurid. There is a fine line demarcating forthright topicality from crass cash-ins, but The Perfection swerves back-and-forth across it, like a drunk driver barreling down an empty country highway.

Thanks to the impressive commitment of Williams, Browning, and Weber, The Perfection starts off the rails and careens further into bedlam with each scene. You have to enjoy the madness, like a marginally more grounded Suspiria (the new one), but it doesn’t have the depth or wider cultural significance it thinks it does (but who wants those things in a horror movie or a psycho-thriller anyway?). Recommended as a fasten-your-seat-belts-its-going-to-be-a-bumpy-night kind of stream, The Perfection premieres today on Netflix.