Nothing scares a new home-owner like mold. Fungi is also becoming a growing preoccupation
of world health authorities. With that in mind, since we have already had the Blob,
so why not a killer fungus? However, screenwriter-director-cinematographer Park
Sye-young takes a more experimental approach in The Fifth Thoracic Vertebra,
which premieres today on IndiePix Unlimited.
It
first formed in the ratty mattress of an unhappy couple. He was rather
irresponsible and lazy, so maybe it is fitting he becomes the first victim of
the fungus. Despite the conspicuous black rot-like fungus, their former
mattress gets passed around. At one point, it even ends up at a love hotel,
where it attacks another unhappy couple. Ironically, it forms an affectionate bond
with one of his victims, who remains bed-ridden on the offending mattress,
presumably to prevent further contamination.
Since
the film unfolds from the POV of the fungus, it is necessarily fragmented. As a
result, it very definitely has an avant-garde vibe, but there are still vividly
disgusting elements of body horror. Perhaps this is more interesting as a
concept than an executed film. Even at an economical 65 minutes, it is a bit of
a challenge to sit through a film dedicated to a toxic fungus.
Park
deliberately frames the film from off-kilter and oblique perspectives, in a
hazy, gauzy style. Yet, somehow, the performances of Park Ji-hyeon and Moon
Hye-in are strangely, perhaps shockingly, emotionally resonant as two of the
women most directly affected by the noxious, semi-sentient fungus.
It is not so hard to figure out where David Cornwell, the spy novelist known
as “John le Carre,” got his ideas. British intelligence posted him to West
Berlin during the time the Berlin Wall was built and Kim Philby fled to the
Soviet Union. He was also the son of a conman. Before his death in 2020, le
Carre sat down for several long, relentlessly candid interviews that Errol
Morris shaped into The Pigeon Tunnel, which premieres Friday on Apple
TV+.
Many
times, le Carre used “The Pigeon Tunnel” as a working title for his novels, but
it finally stuck for his memoirs (which Morris sort of adapted). It refers to the
pigeons used as live skeet targets at a Monte Carlo casino the young Cornwell
visited with his degenerate father. Morris is just as obsessed with the pigeon
imagery as le Carre was, if not more so judging from how often it appears in
the doc.
Pigeon
Tunnel is
definitely a very Morris-ish doc, but it stylistically and thematically suits
his subject, who wrote about deceit after experiencing it first-hand. Le
Carre/Cornwell clearly expresses his expectation that the film would serve as a
final testament or summation, so his answers are always brutally honest, even
when things are still a bit ambiguous in his own mind.
For
le Carre fans and critics, Pigeon Tunnel will be a terrific resource. He
confirms Bill Haydon in Tinker Tailor is largely inspired by Philby,
which everybody always largely assumed. However, it deepens our understanding
of the morality of his novels and worldview. Terms like le Carre-esque have
been used to suggest a moral equivalence between the NATO-West and the Soviets,
but that now seems like an inaccurate, or at least incomplete assessment of his
ideology.
He
remains blisteringly critical of his former employers at MI5 and MI6, but that
is understandable, considering he lived through the Anthony Blunt, Kim Philby,
and Guy Burgess debacles. However, he openly expresses anger and contempt for
Philby, for his betrayal, even at his advanced age. It is complicated for le
Carre, who acknowledges he would have been a prime candidate for Soviet
recruitment. Yet, the atrocities of Stalin, whom the Cambridge spies initially
served, represents a point of moral clarity for the writer, or so we can interpret
from his sit-downs with Morris. He was similarly appalled by the Berlin Wall.
In slasher movies, camping trips and bachelorette parties have very high
mortality rates. Eddie will combine them both her friend Mattie. That works out
about as well as you would expect in Robyn August’s Killher, which
releases tomorrow on VOD and in theaters.
Eddie
is a lot, but she is determined to throw a wild party for Mattie, filled with
many surprises. The first surprise is that they will meet up with her fiancé Jagger,
once they reach the campsite. Yet, it strangely turns out they did not pitch
their tent next his. Instead, it is the grumpy “Mr. Rogers,” who seems almost
too conveniently misanthropic.
He
definitely gives bad vibes to Mattie’s other friends, Jess and Rae, who were
not so crazy about this plan to begin with. They do not exactly adore Eddie
either, especially since she constantly pulls girl-who-cried-wolf-style horror
movie practical jokes. Regardless, someone will start stalking the women later
that night.
Killher
is
a pretty simple, straightforward slasher comedy, but it works surprisingly
well, thanks to the energy and attitude of M.C. Huff, as the trying-too-hard
Eddie, and Tom Kiesche (who also wrote the screenplay), as the anti-social Mr.
Rogers. They get most of the funny lines and they have the timing to land them.
For the American Buffalo, Miller was a one-man extinction event. Somehow,
the species survived him, but it was not for a lack of bloodlust. Not surprisingly,
he finds the Great Western Plains increasingly sparse of prey, so he sets off
on an ambitious hunting expedition. His party encounters some serious karma in
Gabe Polsky’s Butcher’s Crossing, which opens this Friday in theaters.
Will
Andrews is taking a break from his Harvard studies to find adventure on the
Frontier. He has a particular bee in his bonnet spurring him to find a genuine
buffalo hunt. This is a really bad idea, as J.D. McDonald, a crusty pelt dealer
who once knew Andrews’ preacher father, emphasizes in no uncertain terms.
Nevertheless, he has his heart set on it, so he unwisely funds the mysterious Miller’s
proposed expedition to a hidden Colorado valley, where the you-know-what
supposedly roam.
Miller
is visibly erratic and he becomes borderline psychotic when discussing buffalo.
Yet, Andrews is perversely drawn to him, partly because the dynamics of their party
are so dysfunctional. Charley Hodge, Miller’s cook and wagon master is devout
in a way that emphasizes divine retribution, which puts him at odds with the
crude pelt-skinner, Fred Schneider, who goes out of his way to push and prod
Andrews and Hodge. When the weather turns bitter, the tensions within the
expedition steadily rise.
Polsky
and Liam Satre-Meloy’s adaptation of the novel written by the late John Edward
Williams (a longtime professor at the University of Denver, go Pioneers!), lacks
the kind of incisive bite viewers will hope for. As a director, Polsky is not
fully capable of corralling all the tension Nic Cage’s crazy behavior
generates. However, if you have always wondered what it would be like to see
Cage portray Col. Kurtz or Captain Ahab, this film will give viewers a pretty
good idea.
If
you do not enjoy Halloween, you’re a square. That is literally true in
this very young-skewing Apple TV+ series. In a Three Bears-like distribution,
Square is miserable during Halloween, Triangle loves the holiday, especially
the tricks, while Circle enjoys celebrating in responsible moderation. Circle
will most likely have the right approach in Shape Island’s holiday
special, “Creepy Cave Crawl,” which premieres this Friday on Apple TV+.
Basically,
this is a late bonus episode for season one of Shape Island, but it is
still nice to see Apple semi-revive the tradition of the animated holiday special
(remember the B.C. Easter special?). The scares are all very gentle, but
Triangle is still cruising for a Halloween bruising. Circle is usually more
indulgent of his monster-themed pranks, but he is really pushing it this year.
In fact, when he repurposes all the holiday jam she and Square just finished
making for his haunted cave tour, they both storm out in a huff. That leaves
Triangle alone with all the cave’s spooky inhabitants, who had been quietly
watching them.
Of
course, there is no gore or serious peril in “Creepy Cave Crawl.” At least this
special is also refreshingly free of woke messaging and virtue signaling (I can’t
vouch for the rest of the series). There is also enough pumpkin spice and innocent
Halloween cos play to satisfy young viewers’ seasonal expectations.
The character designs
(adapted from Jon Klassen’s illustrations for Barnett’s books) are obviously
very simple, but they have distinct personalities. For older viewers, just
seeing a Halloween special is sort of nostalgic. It makes you hungry for Dolly
Madison Zingers. Nice and age-appropriate, “Creepy Cave Crawl” is recommended
for kids when it starts streaming Friday (10/20) on Apple TV+.
Not all ghosts are scary. Some are rather sad, because they mark the passage
of time. Sir Simon de Canterville is definitely like that, but he also shares a
kinship with Captain Gregg, Mrs. Muir’s ghost. He was once a holy terror, but
he meets his match in a thoroughly modern American family in Kim Burdon’s animated
adaptation of The Canterville Ghost, co-directed by Robert Chandler,
which opens Friday in theaters.
For
three hundred years, Sir Simon scared the willies out of everyone who tried to
inhabit Canterville Chase. Unfortunately, Yanks like the Otis family are far
too materialistic for ghosts. Virginia’s father Hiram considers himself a man
of science, whose electric lights frazzle the ghost’s nerves. Her bratty twin
brother torment poor Sir Simon with practical jokes. Of course, she is not
scared of him either, but as the late 19th Century equivalent of a
moody goth teen, she is drawn to Sir Simon’s tragic romanticism.
Alas,
the ghost would much prefer to be dead, so he can finally be reunited with his
beloved wife. Death played a mean trick on him, which made him onery. Otis
would like to break his curse, but that will be a complicated and dangerous
proposition.
Screenwriters
Cory Edwards, Giles New, and Keiron Self collectively did a nice job adapting
Oscar Wilde’s novella, retaining his major themes, while punching up some of
the dark and stormy bits, for Halloween. Wilde scholars might take issue with Hugh
Laurie’s Angel of Death character, but he helps stir the pot and raise the
stakes. There is plenty of animated mayhem, but deep down, this film is sadder
and wiser than Casper or Topper.
Canterville
is indeed a tragic figure, given Shakespearean dimensions (and references) by
Stephen Fry’s hammy voice. Emily Carey makes Virginia Otis appealingly smart
and sensitive, despite her teen angst. Freddie Highmore sounds appropriately
young and befuddled as the Duke of Cheshire, but his voice works surprisingly
well in conversation with Carey’s.
Don't pay attention to people who dis on the Eighties. The truth is, the Satanic
should always make you panic. Marcus J. Trillbury will have to learn that the
hard way, because he is a moron. He wants to escape his dead-end life through the
occult. Unfortunately, that just might happen in Andrew Bowser’s Onyx the
Fortuitous and the Talisman of Souls, which screens nationwide this
Thursday, via Fathom Events.
Trillbury
wants everyone to call him Onyx the Fortuitous, but that is obviously
ridiculous. It also is not very accurate, since he lives in his mother Nancy’s
basement, constantly bickers with her second husband, and works at a cut-rate fast-food
joint. He has applied to participate in a mysterious ritual hosted by his heavy
metal icon, Bartok the Great, believing it will change his life. However, Bartok
has a much different role in mind for the five lucky “sacrifices” he selects,
including Trillbury.
The
five are a strange group, including an academic (Mr. Duke), a grieving
housewife (Shelley), a tattoo-artist-groupie (Jesminder), and a non-binary witchcraft
experimenter (Mack). With the help of the resentful Farrah, a minor demon in
human form, Bartok intends to raise the grand demon Abaddon and assume his
powers on Earth. To do so, he must consign his sacrifices’ souls to eternity in
the Talisman of Souls. However, Duke and Mack are smart enough to recognize
Bartok and Farrah are not being straight with them.
Apparently,
Bowser’s Trillbury character is the star of a popular series of viral videos.
That kind of makes sense, because after three minutes, he becomes
excruciatingly annoying. Onyx the Fortuitous happens to be over one hour
and forty-five minutes. If Bowser had turned his persona down three or four clicks,
it would have been much easier to spend all that time with him.
It
is a shame, because Onyx the Fortuitous reunites Reanimator co-stars
Barbara Crampton and Jeffrey Combs as Nancy and Bartok. In many ways, this is
an appealing satanic panic horror yarn, somewhat in the tradition of Chemical Wedding, featuring a number of colorful characters. Unfortunately, the
Trillbury shtick simply does not wear well over time.
When you are a time-traveler, it is a little harder to automatically dismiss
UFO reports. Suddenly, Dr. Ben Song finds himself investigating those claims, as
a Special Agent attached to Project Blue Book’s predecessor program. Frankly,
Dr. Song would rather chase flying saucers than deal with his ex-fiancée and designated
holographic guide Addison Augustine in “Closure Encounters,” this week’s
episode of Quantum Leap, which premieres tomorrow night on NBC.
For
Song, no time passed since his season one finale jump. For Augustine and the
rest of the team, it has been three years. During that elapsed time, Augustine
grieved, had a funeral for Song, and started seeing Tom Westfall, from DOD, who
is now jointly overseeing the Quantum Leap project with “Magic” Williams (who
is still totally cool). Song has not met Westfall yet, but he quickly deduced Augustine
had moved on.
Normally,
he would be more Scully than Mulder, but Song rather recklessly charges into
this leap. He sympathizes with Carrie Baker, who claims her car was driven off
the road by a UFO. Unfortunately, she will be railroaded for the mysterious
injuries that rendered her friend and passenger, Melanie Hunt, comatose. He
also likes her grandfather, Sheriff Woodrow Morgan, whose hands are largely
tied by Hunt’s wealthy land-owning father.
Raymond
Lee and Caitlin Bassett always had solid chemistry throughout the first season,
so it is sad to see Song and Augustine on the outs, but their drama is very believable,
given the extraordinary circumstances. Frankly, it is nice to see the goody-two-shoes
Song start to develop a few cowboy tendencies. Louis Hertham is also a terrific
guest-star, appealingly balancing sensitivity and manliness as Sheriff Morgan.
She is like Wonder Woman, except she has a red scarf instead of a golden
lasso—and her latest film doesn’t stink. Tired of the MCU and DCU movies? Who
isn’t? The CGI is terrible, the writing is too woke, and everybody who isn’t a
super-fan has to google all the meaningless character cameos. Indonesia is
doing a much better job of superhero movies—and they too have two shared
universes going. The Legend of Gatotkaca launched the Satria Dewa.
Now we get the second film of the Bumilangit universe. However, you do
not need to know anything about the first film to enjoy UPI (Avianto)’s Sri
Asih: The Warrior, which releases tomorrow on DVD and VOD.
Alana
always had a lot of fight in her, even in the orphanage, following her parents
rather spectacular volcano-related deaths. Fortuitously, her mother happens to
be the wealthy proprietor of an MMA gym. That was a convenient happenstance, but
obviously, not really.
As
a young woman, Alana is a contender. Unfortunately, that means she attracts the
attention of crimelord Prayogo Adinegara’s wastrel son Mateo, who fancies
himself a cage-fighter. He pressures Alana to take a dive, to stroke his ego.
Reluctantly, she agrees for the sake of the gym, but his jerky behavior ignites
her anger.
It
turns out Alana has anger issues, straight from the goddess of anger, herself. That
is because the sinister deity knows the goddess Asih has invested Alana with
her own powers of righteousness. There are people who can help her master her
powers, so she can defeat the rival goddess’s earthly host and foil a gruesome sacrifice.
There
is a lot going on in Sri Asih, but it all boils down to G vs. E, good
versus evil. That is why it works better than any recent American superhero
movie. If you were cool with Gal Gadot as Wonder Woman, you will be just as
happy with Pevita Pearce as Alana/Sri Asih, if not slightly more so.
Remember kids, kaiju eggs are not keepsakes. When a village girl steals on of its
eggs, of course the alpha kaiju will come looking for it. Ditto for when the
big city cops capture a junior kaiju. The resulting carnage might even satisfy
the bloodlust of Ivy League student “activists.” Death comes wet and muddy in
Lee Thongkham’s The Lake, which screens at the Spectacle in Brooklyn.
When
torrential rains wash a batch of kaiju eggs to the shore, you better expect one
of the beasts will come to retrieve them. The next morning little May luckily
stumbles across the last one left and she refuses to give it up when her family
asks: “what the heck.” Arguably, this will all be her fault.
When
the first kaiju attacks the village, Keng and Lin barely escape, but his wound
gives him brief, disorienting moments of kaiju vision. Unfortunately, the creature
follows them to the bigger city, where he is receiving treatment. Soon, Suwat,
the police chief, summons all officers to handle the attacking kaiju. That
would include James, an inspector, who leaves his truant teen daughter Pam in
the backseat of his cruiser, because what is the worst that could happen under
the circumstances? Remember, they haven’t even seen the big one yet.
The
kaiju effects are cool, which is, by far, the most important thing about The
Lake. The junior kaiju sort of looks like a cross between the Creature from
the Black Lagoon and the Xenomorph from Alien. For some shots, there is
still a dude in the suit—and he acts incredibly pissed off. It was augmented
with CGI, but the mix looks terrific on-screen. The senior kaiju clearly owes a
debt of gratitude to the king himself, Godzilla. It has a big set-piece scene
that clearly rips off Jurassic Park, but they do it well.
There
is no question the biggest stars of the film are the kaiju, designed by Jordu
Schell, whose sculptural effects have been seen in films like Starship
Troopers, Cloverfield, and Hellboy. The people, on the other hand,
are somewhat hit-or-miss. However, the great Vithaya Pansringarm brings a lot
grounded maturity to the film as Chief Suwat (who also must worry about his own
daughter Fon, a junior officer on the force).
Theerapat
Sajakul is also impressively hard-boiled as Inspector James, but his character
is not a good decision-maker or strategic thinker. Frustratingly, the younger
the character, the less patience viewers will have for them.
One of the only cool things about the 1970s was all the great made-for-TV
horror movies that were released. That was also true in the UK, where they
produced one of the best. Nigel Kneale is now considered one of the great
television writers and this Lovecraftian-themed original definitely helped
solidify his standing. Fittingly, Peter Sasdy’s The Stone Tape, written
by Kneale, screens as part of the Lovecraftian horror series at Anthology Film Archives.
If
this story were happening today, Ryan Electric Products would be battling competition
(and possibly state-sponsored corporate espionage) from China. In 1972, R&D
head Peter Brock is obsessed with beating Japan. To that end, he launches a
massive “pure research” endeavor, hoping his team’s unrestrained brilliance
will produce a providential breakthrough. To house his project, Ryan Electric
acquired the “Taskerlands,” an ancient manor built above even more ancient
ruins. The place has a dark and stormy reputation. It even had an exorcism that
reportedly did not take, according to the research of Roy Collinson, Ryan’s
facility manager and an old mate of Brock’s.
Somewhat
awkwardly, Brock’s former mistress, Jill Greeley, has been assigned to
Taskerlands as his computer programming. Apparently, she has heightened susceptibility
to the building’s bad supernatural mojo. She feels it so acutely, she nearly
crashes her car when first approaching. Initially, Brock condescendingly
dismisses the strange sights and sounds of a ghostly woman she reports, until
they are corroborated by others. As a stubborn materialist, Brock directs his
team to devote their entire powers of computer-driven analysis to the “haunting.”
He hopes the sinister stones of the chamber where the presumed spirit of a long
dead maid appears will hold the secret of a radical new recording technology.
Of course, their investigation will take a decidedly Lovecraftian turn.
Kneale’s
screenplay gave rise to an entire paranormal hypothesis known as “The Stone
Tape Theory” that posits supposed hauntings are actually the recordings of viscerally
traumatic events. Few horror movies have that sort of lasting legacy, but its
reputation really endures, because it is so darned creepy.
In
addition to being one of Kneale’s best scripts, Stone Tape represents some
of Sasdy’s best work (along with his episodes of Hammer House of Horror).
Using vintage Doctor Who-level special effects, he creates a sense of
dread that is truly Lovecraftian. He and the design team made Taskerlands a
very distinctive place that exudes massively bad vibes.
Alex Murdaugh's family had been political power brokers in South Carolina
when it was part of the solid Democratic South. They still maintained their
influence when the state turned red through their money (fundraising for Biden
and Hillary Clinton) and wheeling-dealing legal practice. However, Alex (or
Alec) Murdaugh destroyed the family reputation by committing a host of crimes,
including (but not limited to) murder. The whole true-crime scandal unfolds in
the two-part Murdaugh Murders: The Movie, which premieres tomorrow on
Lifetime.
Even
though it consists of two installments, Lifetime is calling Murdaugh Murders
its 500th original movie. That is a lot of cheating wives and
dentists stalking their patients. A sleazebag like Murdaugh is comfortably fits
in their power zone. Of course, he is universally respected when the film starts,
as the heir to a dynastic Low Country law firm. However, his son’s legal
troubles will ignite his spectacular fall from grace.
Eventually,
Murdaugh will be tried for the murder of his wife Maggie and son Paul, but
writer Michael Vickerman and director Greg Beeman do not make the latter’s
death look like any great loss to society. Thanks to a drunken boating
accident, Paul Murdaugh was facing criminal and civil proceedings.
Inconveniently, the Murdaugh finances were already precarious, due to Alex/Alec’s
mismanagement, so he started stealing his clients’ settlements. He did not
merely skim a little extra off the top. He redirected the whole darned payout
to accounts he controlled. He also maybe murdered the family’s longtime
housekeeper.
Murdaugh’s
motives for gunning down his wife and son remain a little vague, but it is
clear he was cracking from the combined pressures, also including an
increasingly angry unpaid Oxy dealer. Regardless, there is no ambiguity
regarding Murdaugh’s guilt, largely due to Bill Pullman’s wildly jittery
meltdowns as the sociopathic Murdaugh.
Pullman’s
certainly follows Lifetime’s melodramatic style sheet, starting with his
weirdly reedy mint julep-and-pimento cheese accent, which slips and slides all over
the place. Be that as it may, Pullman’s twitchy showmanship is entertaining.
Lauren K. Robek is credibly down-to-earth as Maggie Murdaugh, but Curtis
Tweedle is absolutely charmless as the entitled Paul.
Frankly,
#500 could have used a strong nemesis to play off Murdaugh, but the cops, FBI agents,
and prosecutors are all disappointingly generic. Besides Pullman, only Serge
Houde leaves any appreciable impression, as the understated but shrewd defense
attorney, Jim Griffin.
Experimental filmmakers can make anything feel slow and inaccessible. You can see that
clearly in this “docu”-essay film. Ostensibly, it is based on Noel Carroll’s monogram
explaining the appeal of scary stories and films. We can thank Carroll for his influential
critique of Marxist critical theorists, like Lacan and Althusser, but his horror
ideas are not fleshed out to any great extent in director-editors Peter Lichter
& Bori Mate’s The Philosophy of Horror: A Symphony of Film Terror,
which screens at the Spectacle Theater, as part of its Collage Horreur series.
Ironically,
the best parts of Philosophy of Horror are the “Overture” and “Intermission,”
which are sort of like audio collages of creepy movie sounds, including
dialogue from Invasion of the Body Snatchers. The other sections simply
present quotes from Carroll’s treatise that do not clearly relate to the images
that follow.
Most
of Philosophy resembles a Bill Morrison film, like Dawson City: Frozen Time. Stills from Craven’s Nightmare on Elm Street and the first
sequel, Freddy’s Revenge have been defaced and distorted, making them
almost unrecognizable (although fans will still know Johnny Depp’s half-shirt
when they see it).
When a series is based on a classic George Romero-Stephen King film, it
better be mindful of horror movie traditions. That continues to be the case for
the strongest horror anthology currently going. The very first episode, “Grey Matter” co-starred Adrienne Barbeau in a King short story adaptation. Then it
incorporated elements of the films Horror Express and Romero’s Night
of the Living Dead in Night of the Living Late Show and A Dead Girl
Named Sue. There are highs and a few lows, but as usual, the best episodes
harken back to the 1982 fan favorite during the fourth season of Creepshow,
which premieres tomorrow on Shudder.
“20
Minutes with Cassandra,” directed by showrunner Greg Nicotero and written by Jamie
Flanagan starts out as a monster-stalker story, which it definitely is, but it
takes an interesting turn. Ironically, this is the most thoughtful tale of the
season, which makes it an outlier, but in a good way. Samantha Sloyan is also
terrific as Lorna, the invaded home-owner, especially in her scenes with Okwe,
the pizza delivery guy she is trying to keep out of it, played understated
humor by Frankie Francois.
The
second story of the season premiere, “Smile” directed by John Harrison and
written by Mike Scannell, is also super creepy. Somehow, an award-winning
photojournalist and his wife find themselves stalked by a mysterious figure,
inexplicably taunting them with pictures he or it should not have been able to snap.
In this case, it is the eerie details that make the stalking so intense.
The
second episode starts with some serious horror fan service in “The Hat,” directed
by Kailey & Sam Spear and written by Byron Willinger & Philip De Blasi,
tipping its titular Homberg to authors like Richard Matheson. Those are the
kind of legends Jay Stratton wants to join, so he borrows the hat formerly
owned by his idol, Stephen Bachman (a mashing together of Stephen King and
Richard Bachman) once sported. It is suitably macabre in an EC Comics kind of
way and Marlee Walchuk’s portrayal of his literary agent is very funny, but not
fundamentally inaccurate.
Unfortunately,
the B-side, “Grieving Process,” directed by Kailey & Sam Spear and written
by Mike D. McCarty and John Esposito, is gorier but much less fun. A
Michelin-star chef’s wife barely survives a brutal attack, but her personality
changes drastically. So does her appetite. This is probably the lowest point of
the new season, because it is so downbeat and predictable.
Next
episode, “Parent Death Trap, directed by P.J. Pesce and written by Erik
Sandoval & Michael Rousselet, returns to the black comedy of the last
season. Although miserable Lyle Veljohnson is rich in money and position, he is
dirt poor when it comes to family love and support. His WASPy parents are so
nasty, he finally kills them, but that won’t be the end of things. Not even close.
Shaughnessy Redden and Loretta Walsh are indeed pretty hillarious as his
ultra-snobby and controlling parents. It is backed by “To Grandmother’s House
we Go” (director: Justin Dyck, writer: William Butler), which is an okay
werewolf yarn that appropriately shares familial themes.
“Meet
the Balaskos,” written and directed by John Esposito, is by far the most
heavy-handed, lectury installment of the new season. It is sort of like Fright
Night, except the Vampire-Americans who move in next door are just another
under-represented demographic group, who must endure the prejudice of their new
next-door neighbor. However, “Cheat Code,” directed by Justin Dyck and written
by Claire Carre & Charles Spano, is one of the season’s best. A recently
widowered father tries to bond with his son through an old school cartridge
video game, but they deduce its sinister powers a little too late. Coming on the
heels of Totally Killer, “Cheat Code” should further establish Lochlyn Munro
as one of the top horror dads.
Ever since it was founded, Israel’s neighbors have tried to wipe it off the
face of the earth, but the Israeli people have always successfully risen to
their own defense. Yet, they have often paid a tragically high price for their
freedom. The rescue at Entebbe that resulted in Yoni Netanyahu’s heroic sacrifice
obviously has extra resonance in the days following Hamas’s genocidal terror
attacks. Perhaps more importantly, it is also an example of Israeli resilience.
This is indeed a fitting week to revisit the Entebbe mission, particularly given
the economy and style of Andrew Wainrib’s short animated documentary, Cohen
on the Bridge, which is now available on Vimeo VOD.
Amir
Ofer was the first soldier to breach the terminal at Entebbe International
Airport. However, his story started much earlier during the Holocaust, when a man
wearing a National Socialist uniform held his grandmother at gunpoint on the
Mostar Bridge. Eventually, he will explain the dramatic parallels between her
story and the Entebbe raid.
There
were other connections between Entebbe and the Holocaust, because many of the
hostages were survivors. The Air France flight from Tel Aviv to Paris stopped
in Athens, where the non-existent security allowed the PLO and Leftist German
terrorists to board the plane with grenades and automatic weapons.
Documentaries like Follow Me: The Yoni Netanyahu Story do a nice job
explaining the hijacking and the rescue, but Wainrib’s twenty-one-minute short does
a comparable job in a quarter of the time.
Michal isnot a normal, well-adjusted college student, but unlike the spoiled sociopathic
millennials celebrating genocidal terrorism on Ivy League campuses, she has a
good excuse. A demon used her father’s body to brutally murder her mother. Since
then, the evil entity kept tabs on her, as viewers can see from the dead bodies
that follow in her wake throughout Brandon Christensen’s The Puppetman, which
premieres Friday on Shudder.
Michal
went from foster care to college, so she will be staying in the dorms during
break. So will her roommate Charlie, apparently because she has a weird
obsession with Michal and her lurid family history. Unbeknownst to Michal,
Charlie has video documented her frequent episodes of sleepwalking she never
knew were happening. Charlie also binges true crime podcasts about her father,
the so-called “Puppetman” in reference to the mysterious controlling power he
blamed for making him kill Charlie’s mother.
Michal
and Charlie will also be partying with three of their boring friends. At least
that was the plan, until people start dying in freakishly unlikely suicides.
Det. Al Rosen is out of his depth, but Ruby, the psychic who maybe isn’t a complete
fraud after all, might have some insights.
The
Puppetman might
be Christensen’s best film yet (far better than Still/Born and more
consistent than Z), thanks to some genuinely eerie séance sequences and the
super-nasty spin it puts on demonic possession. Christensen takes viewers to
some dark, twisted places, which is great.
One excessively indulgent hostage negotiator can create unrealistic
expectations for the next negotiator. There is no way these bank robbers are
getting a helicopter, even though some Fed out in Arizona apparently rustled
one up the week before. Obviously, this hostage standoff ends badly, because
Ben Song leaps into it in “Ben & Teller,” tonight’s episode of Quantum
Leap.
After
three years of silence, Ian Wright finally picked up Song again, but from the
leaper’s perspective, no time had passed since the season one finale. To
support Song, Wright gets all the old gang back together, including the
eternally cool Herbert “Magic” Williams, who is supposedly retired now, but the
showrunners’ statements to the media assure us he isn’t going anywhere. Addison
Augustine is also back, sort of. Its complicated, for reasons involving this
week’s embargoed character.
Regardless,
the pressing issue will be guiding Song through this leap, since the clock is quickly
ticking down. Emotions are perilously high, because one of the armed robbers is
the screw-up younger brother of assistant branch manager Rebecca Egan, who lost
patience with his self-pitying loser behavior long ago.
They were the original party boats—and they also flew. Back in the day, if
you were “flying down to Rio,” or Havana, you were flying on some kind of sea
plane. Perhaps no aircraft better symbolized freedom and escape, which is why a
small handful of aviation enthusiasts still love and restore them. Viewers can
escape the anti-Semitic hatred we are seeing on TV, including on the streets of
New York, for at least 77-minutes, through the welcome respite of Dirk Braun’s
documentary Flying Boat, which releases today on DVD and VOD.
Flying
boats used to be the way to fly, because there were more harbors than runways.
Then WWII happened. Their ability to land in remote bodies of water or desert
dunes continued to appeal to the adventurous, but commercial air-travel became
anchored on dry, solid land. For a while, the Navy and Air Force maintained a
few Grumman Albatrosses, because of their flexible landing capabilities. They
also enjoyed a brief vogue among drug smugglers, for obvious reasons. In fact,
one of the owners Braun interviews nearly unknowingly sold her Albatross to El
Chapo. True story.
Today,
it is mostly romantic collectors who own and fly the Albatross, like commercial
pilot-turned author Tom Casey. He is trying to restore an Albatross that is
literally in pieces, with bird nests knotted in its engines. It will be a
lucrative gig for his mechanics, but also a labor of love.
Throughout
Flying Boat, Braun incorporates some gorgeous aerial cinematography that
dramatically captures the Albatross’s grace in the air and its ability to reach
stunningly beautiful locations, where no other signs of human life are visible.
Without question, this is the best-looking documentary of the year.
Too often, the media and Twitter (X) users just shrug their shoulders at
genocide, so we inevitably get more of it, like Hamas’s horrifying genocidal
terrorist attacks still rocking Israel. It is time to face up to genocidal
crimes and the ideologies that commit them, from the CCP’s systemic campaign
against the Uyghurs to the Marxist Khmer Rouge, who decimated Cambodia’s artists
and intellectuals. Sadly, the widely popular vocalist Ros Serey Sothea was one
of them. Gregory Cahill tells her story in the graphic novel The Golden
Voice: The Ballad of Cambodian Rock’s Lost Rock Queen, illustrated by Kat Baumann,
which goes on-sale today.
You
might know the basic facts of the singer’s life from the documentary, Don’t
Think I’ve Forgotten: Cambodia’s Lost Rock & Roll. Many of the details
are Cahill’s speculation, but reasonably based on the circumstances of Cambodian
history. The “Golden Voice,” as she was dubbed, was nationally beloved, because
she was a country girl who made good. However, that would not earn her much
slack from the Khmer Rouge, especially given her tumultuous relationship with
one of Lon Nol’s married officers.
Three
quarters of the graphic novel covers events prior to the Khmer Rouge genocide.
That might make it sound less depressing, but she still endured plenty of pain
and struggle during her professional life. Regardless, the inevitable tragic
end hangs over the entire narrative.
In
fact, the ways Cahill fills in the gaps in Sothea’s life seem highly credible
and well thought out. Conversely, his creation of two American “non-advising” military
advisors read like mouthpieces for historical exposition and the writer’s
opinion on American policy.
For those who do not recognize the generic title, this Stephen King story is
part of the Night Shift collection, along with the stories that inspired
Children of the Corn, Chapelwaite, and Sometimes They Come
Back. It has been “dollar-babied” several times, but this year it got a
professional studio treatment. If nothing else, viewers will appreciate a
properly hung closet door that stays shut during Rob Savage’s The Boogeyman,
which releases tomorrow on DVD.
Dr.
Will Harper has bad vibes about walk-in patient Lester Billings, but the man is
so obviously hurting, he cannot turn him away. Unfortunately, while Harper
calls the cops, Billings hangs himself in a closet, after trashing Harper’s
late wife’s studio. Obviously, this will not help his daughters, teenaged Sadie
and the younger Sawyer, who still struggle with their mother’s death.
Ominously,
Billings’ sketches and ravings about a “boogeyman” match the nightmares Sawyer
starts having. The little girl is so terrified, Sadie investigates the Billings
home, where his widow, Rita claims to still battle a monster who lives in the
shadows. She warns Harper if the Boogeyman knows about her family, it will
start preying on them next.
Despite
its King lineage, this is a pretty conventional, commonplace horror story. However,
what elevates The Boogeyman to some extent, is Savage’s super eerie
execution. There are several very scary scenes of Sadie Harper stalking the
Boogeyman, or vice versa, in the candlelit halls of the Billings house and her
own darkened basement, which really work. However, the narrative and characters
are just kind of meh.
Chris
Messina’s Will Harper is one of the few Stephen King dads who isn’t an abusive
drunk, but he is still woefully slow on the up-take. David Dastmalchian is
terrific as Lester Billings, but you can tell from on look not to emotionally
invest in his character. LisaGuy Hamilton (the judge in Lincoln
Lawyer, season one) is terrific as the Harper family analyst, Dr. Weller. (Frankly,
King fans will wonder if there is an alternate ending in which she plays a
different “role.”)
Slave labor is common place in today’s world. There is a good chance the
smartphone in your pocket or the sports clothes on your back were made by
Uyghurs detained in Xinjiang or trafficking victims in South and Southeast Asia.
There is no need to treat it as a dystopian allegory, because it is a disgraceful
reality. However, in this film, it is used as a symbol of mind-numbing office
drudgery. Joe Stevens must work till he drops and then work some more in Sean
King O’Grady’s The Mill, which premieres tomorrow on Hulu.
For
years, Stevens has toiled away as a mid-level middle manager in the corporate
Behemoth known as Mallard (a horizontally integrated conglomerate, in a fashion
you would have more likely seen in the 1970s). Since his wife is expecting,
Stevens wants to double-down on his career, so he is shocked to wake up in this
surreal roofless prison cell. According to the computerized interface, this is
a facility for Mallard employees who have potential, but are not fully pulling their
weight.
Every
day, Stevens must make his quota pushing an ancient stone mill, sort of like
Conan the Barbarian did when he was a child slave. Of course, if you surpass
your quota, Mallard quickly raises it, but failure to meet the quota results in
punishment. There are additional “rules” the Mallard inmates must also follow,
but the only person who tells him anything is his unseen neighbor, who is
decidedly “unreliable.”
Watching
The Mill will make you feel like you are imprisoned in a Mallard black
site, just like Stevens. It just seems to go on and on. None of it is even
scary, even though it is being promoted as part of Hulu’s “Huluween.” There is
just a steady vibe of low-grade anxiety and foreboding.
Lil
Rel Howey (who also produced) holds up well as Stevens, especially considering
he is on-screen for almost every second. Genre favorite Pat Healy also makes
the most of his relatively short time, appearing late in the film as a “surprise”
(but not necessarily surprising) character.
J-horror and K-horror have rabid fans in the United States and Europe, so could
this be the start of a M-horror movement? Considering how well this film works,
sure, bring it on. It is not the first Mongolian horror movie, but it is being
billed as the first Mongolian horror film to get an American theatrical
release. Regardless, most viewers will probably get their first taste of
Mongolian horror from Baatar Batsukh’s Aberrance, which is now playing
in theaters.
Erkhmee
has brought his ambiguously “disturbed” wife Selenge to a remote country cabin,
so she can rest for the sake of her advanced pregnancy. He is highly protective
of her, perhaps too protective, judging from the perspective of their new next-door
neighbor. Selenge’s vivid nightmares are also quite alarming. There is clearly
something sinister afoot, but Batsukh is deliberately withholding the full
picture. The truth is definitely the stuff of horror movies. It will even
involve axe murders.
Initially,
Aberrance seems to follow the classic low-budget horror movie playbook,
with its small cast of characters and easily manageable locations. However, its
Mongolian cultural origins, particularly the traditional emphasis placed on “hospitality,”
deepens the significance of the terrors that unfold.
Frankly,
Batsukh’s talent for misdirection would be impressive in any context.
Experienced genre connoisseurs might be able to hazard a guess, but there is no
obvious telegraphing. You can see up on the screen how much talent and
potential he has, as a genre filmmaker.
Military service is never easy. Neither is the pursuit of justice. The late William Friedkin makes
both points very clear in The Caine Mutiny Court-Martial, while presenting a
suspenseful courtroom drama for the audience’s entertainment. Epoch Times exclusive review up here.
There is a reason you have not seen dozens of earnest documentaries and
melodramatic TV movies about the case that gave rise to the Miranda Warning.
The real-life events did not fit the preferred media “narrative.” The titular
Ernesto Miranda was not found innocent of kidnapping and raping the woman
referred to as “Trish Weir” in this film. The Supreme Court only annulled his
trial, allowing Arizona to re-try him without the excluded confession. Of
course, reliving the trial experience was a painful ordeal for his victim. Director
Michelle Danner finally presents the Miranda case from her perspective in Michelle
Danner’s Miranda’s Victim, which releases today in theaters and
on-demand.
As
viewers will see only too clearly, in 1963, the horror of a rape continued for
victims when they tried reporting it to a doctor and the police. That is why
Weir’s mother Zeola keeps telling her to forget it and move on with her life.
Although never explicitly established, it is implied Mother Zeola endured something
similar earlier in life, but her maternal instincts are still clearly flawed.
Regardless, Weir gets crucial support from her sister and brother.
The
latter even gets a partial plate number for a car matching Weir’s description,
returning to the scene of the crime. With that, Det. Carroll Cooley tracked down
Miranda. For the era, Cooley was reasonably respectful of Weir. He was also
relatively restrained in his interrogation of Miranda, but he obviously did not
Mirandize him.
Unfortunately,
Miranda was the perfect test case for the ACLU and hotshot attorney John J.
Flynn. In a scene guaranteed to cause consternation, Maricopa County prosecutor
Lawrence Turoff reaches out to Flynn, hoping he will reconsider the Miranda
case, asking “What about Miranda’s victim.” In the film, Flynn replies: “Lawrence,
I really don’t care.”
Of
course, Weir will have to endure another grilling from Flynn when Turoff
re-tries Miranda. Danner and screenwriters George Kolber, Richard Lasser, and
J. Craig Stiles are more interested in giving a voice to sexual assault victims
than re-litigating the Miranda Warning ruling. Yet, it is hard to think of a
sexual assault victim more silenced and marginalized than her, considering the
ruling that bears her assailant’s name is regularly celebrated as a progressive
victory.
This
story will be new to a lot of viewers, but despite some unnecessary flashbacks,
Kolber and company do a nice job explaining the circumstances of the investigation
and subsequent court cases. Throughout it all, they squarely focus on Weir and
the ways she was repeatedly victimized by this case. Danner’s approach as a
filmmaker is always sensitive and respectful, but also conventional and
decidedly not flashy, which was probably for the best.
Abigail
Breslin is incredible as Weir. It is an emotionally devastating performance that
is never cliched. She ought to have a place in the awards chatter, but she won’t.
Mireille Enos ultimately makes her mother a very sad figure. Luke Wilson and Enrique
Murciano are solid as Weir’s allies, Turoff and Cooley, but they are nowhere
near Breslin’s level.
Supposedly, this near-future world is dangerously overpopulated and environmentally
degraded, but you would not know it from the vast lonely prairie vistas
surrounding Henrietta (Hen) (who never has need of any protective gear). She
endures the loneliness that drove the Badlands settlers mad. For her husband
Junior, this is what life is supposed to look like. Perhaps that is why their
marriage has been strained. However, they must soon spend a year apart, except
maybe not exactly. Their dystopian government has a plan to address their
needs, but as usual, it will have unintended consequences in Garth Davis’s FOE,
which opens today in theaters.
Terrance
is from the government and he is here to help. It turns out Junior has been
selected to work on the international space station for a year. You wouldn’t
think they need many dirt-farmers in space, but it is for some kind of rural
poor representational quota. Of course, that means he must leave Hen alone for an
entire year, in the over-populated world, where her only contact with other
people comes from waiting on tables in a tiny little diner.
For
her sake, Terrance will AI-clone Junior, but to do so properly, he must know the
darkest corners of Junior’s mind and truly understand the state of their
marriage. To that end, he moves in with the couple and constantly asking
uncomfortable sexual questions, like James Spader in Sex, Lies, and Video
Tape.
FOE
could
have been an effective Outer Limits-style thriller if it played up the
dystopian paranoia and wasn’t set in the middle of acres and acres of wide-open
scrub grass. However, Davis opted instead to make a Terrence Malick film.
Although, in a weird way, all the hazy, sun-flared staring off into the horizon
misdirects viewers from the surprise twist.
In
fact, FOE addresses some big ideas in a surprisingly thoughtful manner.
However, getting to that good stuff requires enduring the equivalent of cinematic
anesthesia. If you’re not sufficiently caffeinated, it will likely put you out.
To say the pacing is slow and deliberate would be diplomatic.
All the best slashers take you back to an Eighties state of mind. This one
literally takes Jamie Hughes back to the 1980s. Late in the awesome 80’s, the
mysterious Sweet Sixteen Killer murdered three high school girls, stabbing them
sixteen times. Then, suddenly, he reappears in 2023, killing her mom. Through
an odd chain of events, she travels back in time to stop the killer in
Nahnatchka Khan’s Blumhouse-produced Totally Killer, which premieres
today on Prime.
For
years, Pam Hughes was preparing for the killer’s return, like Laurie Strode in Halloween (2018), but she wasn’t quite prepared enough. The killer targets her daughter
next, but Hughes (as in John?) escapes in her best friend Amelia Creston’s
science fair project, a time machine. Somehow, it works when the killer’s knife
gets jammed in the control panel.
Obviously,
returning will be a problem, especially since it needs wifi. Fortunately,
Creston based her designs on plans in her mother Lauren’s old notebooks. The
1980s Creston will work on the technical problems, while Hughes tries to catch
the killer, but it will be even more difficult than she expected. For one
thing, the teen Pam and her mean girl friends are too busy partying to take her
warnings seriously, until they start getting killed.
Screenwriters
David Matalon, Sasha Perl-Raver, and Jen D’Angelo score some laughs at the
expense of 80’s attitudes that now look dated, as seen through the eyes of the
woke-entitled Hughes. Yet, despite their intentions, the Reagan decade still
looks like way more fun than our current scoldy watch-what-you-say times.
Surprisingly,
their take on time travel is more consistently fun and entertaining. Hughes
will indeed change things, but not always in the way she hoped. Murders still
happen, but the victims and locations change. It turns out fusing slashers and
time travel resulted in a fresh take on both.
Everyone should know by now Satan never sleeps. That means you can always have
one more demonic horror sequel. In this case, we are talking about a franchise
built by one of the greatest horror films of all-time and a criminally
under-appreciated third installment. The rest are not so fondly remembered (especially
#2), so Halloween 2018 rebooter David Gordon Green largely disregards
them in the Blumhouse-produced The Exorcist: Believer, which opens
tomorrow nationwide.
Thirteen
years ago, Victor Fielding and his mega-pregnant wife Sorenne were vacationing
in Haiti when the 2010 Sean Penn earthquake hit. She was killed, but doctors
managed to save their unborn daughter, Angela. Of course, Fielding still has
lingering pain and trauma you-know-who is sure to exploit when he gets a
chance.
As
a young teen, Angela is increasingly preoccupied with thoughts of the mother
she never knew. So much so, she and her friend Katherine try to raise her spirit
through a ritual in the forest, which is an exceptionally bad idea. Three days
later, Fielding and Katherine’s Evangelical parents finally find them, but they
are different. At first, everyone assumes they are just in shock, but their
behavior grows nasty, violent, and just plain evil.
Fielding
is not a believer, but his neighbor, a former nun, certainly is. When she gives
him Chris MacNeill’s book about her daughter Reagan’s demonic possession, Fielding
is so struck by the similarities, he seeks out her advice.
You
have to wonder what William Peter Blatty (who wrote the original Exorcist novel
and screenplay) would think of the way Believer depicts the Catholic
Church. Rather insultingly for fans, Blatty’s name never appears in the opening
credits, but this film would not exist without him. However, he might
begrudgingly admit there is some veracity to its feckless depiction of the
Catholic Church, in the Francis era. How can a Church that makes deals with the
CCP find the faith to fight demons from Hell? At least, Ann the former nun will
try, along with several other clergy, including Katherine’s Evangelical pastor.
Ironically, he is portrayed in largely sympathetic terms, as Victor’s neighbor,
Stuart, a Pentecostal lay leader, is as well.
Green
and co-screenwriters Peter Sattler, Scott Teems, and Danny McBride make a point
to emphasize faith, rather than the faith, but evil is still rotten and
corrupting to the core. Frankly the “village” trying to conduct the exorcism
needs a Father Karras and a Father Merrin—and they would be the first ones to
admit it.
The
heralding return of Ellen Burstyn as MacNeil is real a coup for Green. Even
though she only has fifteen or twenty minutes of screen time, her presence has
authority and the apostolic connection to the 1973 film lends Believer massive
additional credibility. Despite the limited time, Burstyn is quite poignant and
her post-Pazuzu life is well-written and believable.
Imagine getting trapped in a 1970’s-style disaster movie with the absolute worst
people in the world. That is the position Noh Hyung-soo finds himself in. Of
course, he is one those gross characters. He thought he was coming to the
remote hotel for a questionably legal sexual encounter, but instead, a gang of
organ-harvesters intends to auction his inside parts to the highest bidder.
Then a massive earthquake interrupts everything in creator Byun Seung-min’s six-part
Bargain, which premieres today on Paramount+.
Park
Joo-young lured Noh pretending to be a high school student offering her
virginity for sale, but she will actually be his auctioneer. About a dozen
potential buyers will bid and then the Mandarin-speaking surgeons from Mainland
China (the world capital of organ-harvesting) will carve him up, sort of like
when you order a live lobster in a restaurant. It is almost like divine retribution
when a sudden earthquake rips a giant hole through the center of the hotel.
Suddenly,
Park and Noh must work together to survive—or so he keeps telling her.
Obviously, neither really trusts each other, but they recognize they are
probably the best of the bad lot. Civil war erupts among the organ-harvesting
gang, between factions loyal to the boss and his chief deputy. Park would
probably side with the boss if she had to choose, but she does not feel much
loyalty, since she was also trafficked into the gang.
Meanwhile,
they also must contend with the clan of troglodytes in the basement that
dispose of the bodies and the increasingly unhinged buyer, Guk-ryeol, who keeps
insisting Noh must make good on the kidney he purchased for his dying father.
Clearly,
Bargain is the sort of feel-good drama, where everybody learns we are all
just the same deep down: nasty, brutish, and mean. The first three episodes are
so dark and scuzzy, you might want to take a quick shower before proceeding
further. However, the brutal fight scenes and karmic payback of the last three
episodes are definitely satisfying, in a grungy, exploitative kind of way.