Hunting Matthew Nichols

When the original Blair Witch Project released, it inspired teenaged Matthew Nichols and his friend Jordan Reimer to make their own DIY horror movies. Judging by the small army of found footage films reviewed here, they were clearly not the only ones. Unfortunately, instead of earning a quick pay day, they fell into a ravine and died. At least that is what the provincial Vancouver Island police say, but they never discovered the bodies. Two decades later, his sister Tara and a documentary film crew set out to uncover their true fate. In the process, they produce another found footage horror movie: Markian Tarasiuk’s independently produced and released Hunting Matthew Nichols, which releases today in theaters.

Way up in northern Vancouver, there isn’t much for teens to do except watch horror movies and go hiking. Consequently, everyone hoped Nichols and Reimer would be found, considering how well they knew the woods (the Canadians call it “bush,” but same difference). Yet, the police only recovered Nichols’ video camera.

Tara Nichols wants answers and director Markian Tarasiuk and cameraman Ryan Alexander McDonald—playing themselves—want to help her at least reach some closure. Regardless, they get some pretty good footage when they discover the missing teens were preoccupied with the local not-so-urban legend of Roy McKenzie, a reputed cult leader, who may or may not have eaten the residents of his commune. McKenzie can definitely hang with the Blair Witch. Nichols and Reimer thought so too, judging from the totem the police turn over to his sister.

There is no getting around the fact Tarasiuk’s film looks and plays very much like Chris Stuckmann’s Shelby Oaks, but the Roy McKenzie lore helps somewhat set it apart. It also has some of the best performances you will find in the found footage sub-genre. Miranda MacDougall shows potential star-power as Tara Nichols.

Putin’s Fortune, Graphic Novel

It shouldn't surprise anyone that the autocrat is also a kleptocrat. Indeed, plundering Russia was always part of the plan—the KGB’s plan. It even had a name: Operation Luch. $50 billion was siphoned out of the country and used to reassert the KGB elites’ power after the fall of Communism. That is exactly what happened, with Putin reaping the greatest benefits, both in terms of money and power. French historian Yvonnick Denoël chronicles the Russian dictator’s enrichment and the ruthless consolidation of his position in Putin’s Fortune, illustrated by Gildas Java, which is now on-sale at book and comic retailers.

His boss at the KGB knew Gorbachev was doomed to fail, so he entrusted Operation Luch to his trusted subordinates, including Putin. They immediately started implementing his plans with help from some key allies in the East German Stasi and the Russian mob. Indeed, one of Denoël’s biggest “scoops” is his revelation of Putin’s longstanding cooperation with various criminal clans, which simply carried over from their alliance with the Communist Party.

Basically, Putin started creating a spider’s web of dummy corporations and holding companies, whose boards were all packed with KGB veterans. Money flowed out of the Soviet Union and later Russia, through lucrative western investments and back into slush funds that purchased state enterprises at fire-sale prices and financed Russian political campaigns.

At this point, just about all of Putin’s Fortune is already in the public record. Unfortunately, few people care. Perhaps Java’s starkly noir art can help, to an extent, because it vividly the soulless evil of the titular tyrant and his regime. His ultra-cool art is also clearly intended for adults, because it graphically illustrates the debauchery of Putin and his cronies, whom useful idiots like Marjorie Taylor Greene bizarrely celebrate for their alleged “traditional values.”

ND/NF ’26: Leviticus

Even before the 1980s, horror movies were associating sex and death. The former often led to the latter, but for the horny teens consuming these movies, the hedonism was maybe worth the risk. “Au contraire” say the Evangelical Australians, who will do anything to keep their kids from swinging the wrong way. For Naim and his on-again-off-again friend-hook-up-lover Ryan, the cure is way worse than the disease in director-screenwriter Adrian Chiarella’s Leviticus, the opening night film of this year’s New Directors/New Films.

Naim and his mother recently moved to the sleepy provincial town after enduring a vague, never fully explained trauma. Clearly, she has adopted religion as her coping mechanism—the more old-time, the better. Despite their church’s funky-aspiring Christian rock band, Naim is more interested in exploring his sexuality, preferably with Ryan. Unfortunately, Ryan also does some exploring with the “blue jeans” pastor’s son.

In a fit of jealousy, Naim informs on Ryan and his rival, but soon regrets it. To cure the boys, the congregation brings in a “Deliverance Preacher” who essentially places a curse on the lads. Every night, a demon will taunt them in the form of the one they most desire. According to the film’s logic, this is intended to scare them straight, literally. Yet, if it actually worked, wouldn’t the demon subsequently take the shape of women?

Regardless, Naim’s mother soon commits the ultimate betrayal, by arranging his own session with the Deliverance Preacher. Ironically, she drives Naim back to Ryan. Despite the risks, they join forces, in hopes of devising a way to undo the curse. As long as they are with someone, the demon cannot approach. Yet, as soon as they separate, they cannot tell whether the doppelganger might be appearing before them, instead their forbidden lover.

Clearly, Leviticus (named for the Old Testament book with the hardcore fire-and brimstone reputation) owes an enormous debt of gratitude to David Robert Mitchell’s It Follows. Chiarella and cinematographer Tyson Perkins stage several darkly sinister scenes, in which tremendous tension is built from the is-he-or-isn’t-he question. Frankly, the paranoia of not being able to trust the one you adore the most is quite terrifying.

However, the entire curse business makes little sense and the depiction of the Evangelicals is distractingly heavy-handed and simplistic. If Chiarella were to make a film about Berber nomads, he would probably try to understand their culture, their values, and their world view. Yet, obviously, no such effort was made with Evangelicals. The truth is they simply do not talk or think as Chiarella depicts. The absence of such understanding leaves Leviticus conspicuously populated with straw men, whose only purpose is to undermine the beliefs they supposedly profess. That’s projection and wish fulfilment.

Unbroken, in The Epoch Times

Performing in a dance troupe should not require the degree of courage required of the Shen Yun company. The documentary UNBROKEN serves as an urgent wakeup call, exposing the CCP's extraterritorial harassment campaign against Shen Yun. Yet, it also serves as a performing arts doc, vividly capturing the company's artistry. EPOCH TIMES review up here.

Hamlet: One of the Contemporary Productions

The difference between an “l” and an “n” can be huge. In this case, it is an “l” for Hamlet, so you should be able to watch it without falling asleep. At least, it is sort of Hamlet. Not only has the setting been updated, the cast of characters has been severally abridged. However, his father “the king” is still dead and his mother is still marrying his uncle rather soon afterward in Aneil Karia’s Hamlet, which opens this Friday in New York.

The story follows a similar arc, but in this case, Hamlet is the heir to his father’s real estate, including the enormous luxury the development known as El Sinore. Poor Hamlet is still grieving when Uncle Claudius announces his engagement to Hamlet’s mother, Gertrude. Frankly, Hamlet finds it all rather unseemly, even before he encounters the ghost of his father.

So, yes, this is Hamlet. However, Michael Lesslie’ adaptation simplifies Shakespeare’s original play in often strange ways. Horatio is gone. Instead, Ophelia and Laertes stand-in for him in scenes where his presence would be required. However, this greatly muddies the nature of Hamlet’s relationship with the latter, with whom he ordinarily has no love lost, yet now they are sort of friends—at least until Hamlet kills his father, Polonius. Rosencranz and Guildenstern also got the axe, but the Hamlet of Shakespeare’s play would be the first to tell you they were no great loss.

Bizarrely, since there is no Horatio, we never get “a fellow of infinite jest” or “good night sweet prince.” Also, since Laertes frequently covers for him, he never leaves, so there is no “to thine own self be true” speech. Of course, we still have Hamlet’s soliloquy, but Karia’s ill-conceived staging sabotages Riz Ahmed’s big moment, shooting him solely in profile while driving behind the wheel of a car. It is a head-scratchingly uncinematic treatment.

That is a real shame, because other scenes are brilliantly executed. To Karia’s credit, Hamlet’s pivotal confrontation with Gertrude and Polonius has the visceral violence most productions do not have the guts for. Indeed, Timothy Spall and Sheeba Chaddha are both terrific as Polonius and Gertrude, even when Hamlet isn’t slamming them into walls.

I Know Exactly How You Die

Poor struggling horror writer Rian Burman is going through a lot right now. He doesn’t need his agent constantly calling to berate him on top of it all. He ought to just write himself a new one. Apparently, he can do that in the Clayborne, the low-budget motel he checked into. Things tend to come to pass there once they are put to paper (or laptop hard drive). Obviously, that will cause some issues since he writes horror in Alexandra Spieth’s I Know Exactly How You Die, which hits various streaming platforms tomorrow.

Burman needs to send that demanding agent some pages pronto, but he is still reeling from a bad break-up. Katie Waters is a lot like his ex. She is just his type. Unfortunately, she is also Hector Darbes’ type as well. The serial killer has stalked her throughout his killing spree and now he has followed her to the Clayborne as well. That was a far as Burman got before meeting Waters face-to-face.

He soon realizes writing comes to life at the Clayborne—a fact Naja, the proprietress and very amateur poet, reluctantly confirms. Unfortunately, he already washed out the roads and toppled the local cell towers, but he resolves to change the tragic fate he envisioned for Waters. Yet, much to his alarm, his story seems to be taking on a life of its own, in a decidedly dangerous way.

There is a lot that works in Spieth’s film, starting with the two principles. Rushabh Patel and Stephanie Gomes Hogan both bring interesting, energetic screen-presences to the party. The fundamental premise is also intriguing. However, there is an awful lot of fudging and conspicuous attempts at narrative sleight-of-hand.

Marshals: Out of the Shadows

Obviously, Yellowstone fans prefer complex storylines. Frankly, the weekly procedural format might not be a perfect fit for the faithful, even though they should certainly appreciate the Marshal Service’s cowboy roots. Consequently, it probably makes sense to start making some two-parters for Kayce Dutton’s spin-off. It turns out they needed more than one episode to catch the traffickers holding Tate Dutton’s friend Hayley Charlo. In fact, their frustrated attempts to rescue Charlo are causing Dutton even more angst and guilt than usual (and he already carries quite a lot) in “Out of the Shadows,” the latest episode of creator Stephen Hudnut’s Marshals, premiering tonight on CBS.

During the third act of last week’s episode, Charlo convinced Dutton to let her return to her captors, so her fellow trafficking victims would not suffer reprisals. Unfortunately, the camper they thought was carrying the girls was empty, leaving them back at square one. It was a tough call, which his boss Pete Calvin respects. However, Dutton must take tons of grief from former Reservation cop Miles Kittle and his whiny, annoying son.

In a case of good news-bad news, the Marshals manage to connect the traffickers to a rather nasty biker gang, the Iron Sentinels. Even better (or worse), Deputy Marshal Belle Skinner still has an undercover alias that should still be valid with them, but Clavin definitely has the feeling he is sending her into the lion’s den.

The Marshals-versus-bikers storyline really gives this episode a neo-Western vibe. It is also an installment conservatives should appreciate since it is all about combating human trafficking, a brutal, nightmarish crime that has become bizarrely politicized, after many on the left started to resent the success of Angel Studio’s The Sound of Freedom. Plus, Dutton has some moments of “improvisation” that Dirty Harry Callahan could appreciate.

Bone Keeper, Co-Starring John Rhys-Davies

This creature has its own Patterson-Gimlin film. Everyone assumes it is a hoax, but viewers know better. So does Olivia Wheeler, because her missing-presumed-dead grandfather shot it—and then vanished (conveniently leaving the footage behind). She also thinks her mother disappeared down its cave in search of him, so she organizes an expedition to find some traces of them in Howard J. Ford’s Bone Keeper, which releases this Monday on digital in the UK.

According to the 2001-inspired prologue, the Bone Keeper has been terrorizing this inhospitable region of Scotland since the era of neanderthals. Lately, the Lovecraftian monster has developed a habit of consuming Wheelers. Nevertheless, the Wheeler granddaughter is determined to continue throwing good family-members after bad, so to speak.

Wisely, she has recruited a group of friends who are either abrasively annoying or interchangeably dull, so viewers won’t mind when the Bone Keeper starts snatching them up, one by one. Most of them condescendingly assumed they were humoring Wheeler, but they can’t say they weren’t warned. After all, they visited Prof. Harrison, the leading expert on the Bone Keeper, whom the locals dismiss as a crank. He did his best to dissuade Wheeler and her crew. Failing that, he encouraged them to simply try to bring back some physical proof.

Sins of Kujo, in Cinema Daily US

In Netflix's SINS OF KUJO, the title character represents the worst of the worst. His ethics are unconventional, but he has an economist's understanding of incentives and unintended consequences, which makes the series one of the bet legal dramas in a long time. CINEMA DAILY US review up here.

Roger Corman: The Pope of Pop Cinema, on TCM

Arguably, Alfred Hitchcock and Roger Corman most indelibly personify filmmaking for several generations of American genre film fans, thanks to their droll media appearances. And so they should, because their lasting influence matches their wit. Sure, Corman made a lot of Z-grade exploitation films, but many of them, like Little Shop of Horrors, blossomed into a weird, unlikely immortality. Plus, nobody had better “making of” stories than Roger Corman. The venerable master regales viewers with some of them in Bertrand Tessier’s Roger Corman: The Pope of Pop Cinema, which airs tonight on TCM.

Who couldn’t listen to Roger Corman stories all night? Many of the famous directors he mentored could also tell Corman stories all night, as well. Once again, Ron Howard, Joe Dante, Allann Arkush, and Peter Bogdanovich reminisce about the man who gave them their start directing, as they had in Alex Stapleton’s Corman’s World, which is admittedly longer and more comprehensive.

Sadly, Corman alumnus Jonathan Demme had already passed away by the time Pope of Pop was produced. Nevertheless, Tessier’s short fiftysome minute film covers some new material, addressing some of Corman’s late career triumphs, such as the money he made from the straight-to-VOD sequels to the Death Race 2000 remake and the sale of the title to his1950s hot-rod movie, The Fast and the Furious, to Universal. In fact, Death Race (2008) director Paul W.S. Anderson also offers his memories of the Hollywood icon.

Long Time Listener, on AMC ALLBLCK

Radio is rarely live or local anymore. Increasingly, DJs are a thing of the past. Jessica Walter wouldn’t have the opportunity to stalk Clintt Eastwood in Play Misty for Me. However, there are podcasters, who are practically begging for obsessive fans, especially considering how they mostly gab about true crime. Genesis was one of the pioneers, but her podcast is on the verge of cancelation, because it now sounds comparatively tame. However, a mystery heavy-breather will either save her show, or kill Genesis, maybe both, when he starts phoning-in as the title character of Danielle Nicolet’s Long Time Listener, which premieres today on AMC ALLBLCK.

Genesis and her producer Carter decide to take some calls as sort of an old school throwback, but they soon wish they hadn’t. It was already a tough day at the office, after Ruby, the network manager just cancelled Genesis’s show. Then “Long Time Listener” calls in. It sounds like he has a victim with him, who could possibly be her ex-girlfriend. Genesis bluffs her way through the call, belittling Long Time Listener, but deep down, she isn’t quite sure it is a hoax.

Things get real when LTL hacks the show’s socials and posts a sex-tape he (or she) recorded of Genesis and Carter (her other ex). Eventually, people start dying. Of course, nobody should be better prepared for this kind of thing than an experienced true crime podcaster, right? Indeed, she is keenly aware the stalker is most likely someone already in close proximity to her.

As directed by Nicolet, best known for her role on The Flash, who also plays Genesis’s colleague, lifestyle podcaster Elle, Long Time Listener largely has the vibe of a made-for-Lifetime movie. Nevertheless, screenwriters John Doolan and Joe Narode will probably genuinely shock the target audience with their twist ending. To give credit where its due, they dexterously use the expectations viewers have developed over time against them.

While still undeniably small in scope, Meagan Holder solidly anchors the film as the reasonably proactive Genesis. Likewise, Lyriq Bent nicely projects the proper degree of ambiguity as Carter, who must serve as potential love interest and prime suspect. Cleo Berry is usually annoyingly shticky as Genesis’s flamboyant co-host, Max, but he truly shines in pivotal third act scenes.

My Undesirable Friends: Pt. I – Last Air in Moscow, on Mubi

For TV Rain, there was no revolution to televise—just the rise of an Orwellian dictatorship. At first, the oppression increased at a steady rate, but after Putin’s illegal invasion of Ukraine, the general crackdown on civil society escalated exponentially. Considered the last independent network in Russia, TV Rain (sometimes romanized “Dozhd”) and its journalists were branded “foreign agents,” solely due to their skepticism of Putin. In reality, their only real foreign connection was Julia Loktev, a friend of TV Rain host Anna Nemzer, who documented the journalists during late 2021 and early 2022 in My Undesirable Friends: Pt. I – Last Air in Moscow, which Friday on Mubi.

Loktev’s epic five-and-a-half-hour documentary starts with the dawning of the “foreign agent” age. Every TV Rain show and social media post must be prefaced with the Putin’s regime’s mandated boilerplate labeling what follows as the product of paid foreign agitation. As they comply with the law, Nemzer and her colleagues mock the disclaimer, turning it into a badge of honor. They are hardly the only “foreign agents.” All reasonably independent journalists and scores of NGOs and their employees were tarred with the same scarlet letter. It was even unjustly applied to Memorial, the now-defunct non-profit, founded during the Soviet era, which documented the Communists’ crimes against humanity—a practice that Putin obviously considered bad for business.

As Nemzer and her colleagues struggle to comply with the new rules, she and Loktev regularly check in with friends who are slowly becoming dissidents, like “Ksyusha," whose husband, Ivan Safronov was (and still is) imprisoned on treason charges. Eventually, she too joins TV Rain, but when things get bad, she is the most reluctant to consider exile, because she knows it will be used against her husband.

Nemzer and Loktev also introduce viewers to a TV Rain roommates who are arduously appealing a past case through Russia’s kangaroo appellate courts, for the sake of ultimately petitioning the European Court of Human Rights. Yet, that effort goes for naught after Putin launches his war on Ukraine and withdraws from the Council of Europe.

It takes Loktev three and a half absurdist hours to get to that point. Things move much quicker during the second two-hour section, which begins with the start of the Ukraine invasion. Despite expecting it on an intellectual level, those associated with TV Rain react with shock and horror, which quickly turns to panic.

Putin’s regime prohibits the use of the word “war” in media coverage insisting on the euphemism “special military operation” instead. It also mandates only Russan government sources can only be cited. Working around such restrictions becomes increasingly dicey, especially as TV Rain personnel are increasingly detained. Loktev spends considerable time waiting outside one such holding facility, waiting and hoping for the release of on-camera anchor Eduard “Edik” Burmistrov, who wasn’t even arrested for his TV Rain work. He just happened to attend a vigil for assassinated opposition leader Boris Nemtsov.

My Undesirable Friends is absolutely harrowing stuff. In retrospect, the mammoth shape makes a lot of sense. For a while, the constant drumbeat of outrages are like the drippings of water torture, but after the WAR begins, it becomes a genuine monsoon. Perhaps a half hour could have been pruned from the “before” section, but that is arguably rather high praise for a film that runs over five hours.

Regardless, the madness and the sheer pettiness Loktev documents is bizarre and terrifying. The audience essentially witnesses an entire nation lose its mind, driving away or imprisoning its future generations in the process. Nemzer is a wise choice to serve as the film’s initial voice, because she is incredibly smart and charismatic, but also highly relatable as a parent. She is also already realistic to the point of cynicism. Consequently, instead of shaking our heads at her naivete, we [sadly] nod for her prescience.

Time Hoppers: The Silk Road

In 1312, Mansa Musa elevated Timbuktu to lofty heights of culture and scholarship. In 2012, Islamist jihadists occupied Timbuktu, destroying all the culture and scholarship they saw. Wisely, these time-traveling children journey back to the 1312 Malian capital. Frankly, they didn’t truly choose for themselves. They were chasing a bad guy who had stolen one of their time-traveling disks in Flordeliza Dayrit’s animated Time Hoppers: The Silk Road, which releases today on VOD.

Layla’s father Habib rather rashly and naively invented time-travel. Consequently, they must sneak out of Seattle, secretly relocating to Vancouver, to keep the technology out of the hands of the sinister Zoola corporation. Habib hopes to refine his work with the help of his sister, Hafsa, the dean of Layla’s new high-tech prep school. Instead, they expend most of their efforts tracking Layla, her cousin Aysha, and her new friends Khalid and Abdullah through time.

Basically, it is all Abdullah’s fault, and not just because he is the fat, goofy one. He accidentally activated a time travel disk, so his three friends grabbed their own, to bring him back. Unfortunately, he dropped his disk while Fasid, the bad guy who greatly resembled Jafar from Disney’s Aladdin, was chasing them. Now, they are chasing him.

Billed as the first Muslim-American-produced animated feature (which had nationwide Fathom screenings), Time Hoppers celebrates the great scientists and scholars of the ancient Islamic world. Yet, sadly many of the time hops take on tragic irony in light of more recent tragedies in cities like Timbuktu, Aleppo, and Baghdad. Sadly, the Time Hoppers must go all the way back to 950 AD to find an edifying moment in Syrian history.

Nevertheless, there are some worthy history lessons, courtesy of Dayrit and co-screenwriter Sakina Fakhri. Plus, Dads will also appreciate some of the Ramadan jokes, like “why don’t you want to race a Muslim during Ramadan? Because they fast.” That’s a direct quote. However, it will be tame for many preteens and 3D computer animation will underwhelm connoisseurs of the art-form.

The characters are also familiar stock figures, starting with Layla, the sensitive girl still grieving her late mother. Ayla is the bratty tomboy, while Khalid is the boy genius who explains the significance of the scholars they meet on each hop, but he sometimes isn’t very practical. Of course, you can tell Abdullah is comic relief just from looking at him.

Takashi Miike’s Blazing Fists

Mikuru Asakura is no Father Flanagan. He promotes one-minute viral “Breaking Down” MMA fights. Yet, his example inspires two Juvenile Detention inmates to go straight and save their fighting for the ring. At least that is the plan, but there are several street gangs spoiling for a fight with them in Takashi Miike’s Blazing Fists (a.k.a. Blue Fight: The Breaking Down of Young Blue Warriors), which releases tomorrow on VOD.

If Ryoma Akai knew he was talking to Ikuto Yagura, he never would have started the conversation. Yagura has a reputation for being a bad cat. His father’s recent murder conviction added another chip to his shoulder. Yet, he takes a liking to Akai, who rather queasily realizes he committed the crime Yagura was convicted of. That is a secret he keeps to himself.

Regardless, they remain close friends after parole, arranged by Yagura’s surprisingly resourceful mom. They also start training for “Breaking Down” together, because they felt so inspired by Asakura’s speech to the Juvie inmates. He had been there too in his youth, but he made something of himself in the ring.

Unfortunately, the high school gang led by Jun Kishomaru just won’t let them be. As it happens, Akai landed in Juvie because Kishomaru’s associate Kosuke Isaka extorted money from him. When they settle things with their fists, it will be a real grudge match. To further complicate matters, Shizuka Mido’s very adult and very criminal biker gang just won’t let Kishomaru be, either.

Anyone who ever said fighting never settles anything never met Mikuru Asakura. In Miike’s film, fighting is the only way to deal with psychos like Mido (and it is largely true in reality, as well). The result is an unrepentantly two-fisted grungy beatdown, which is often entertaining. However, it all seems oddly conventional for a cinematic iconoclast like Miike. Frankly, this is more like the sort of film directors and martial artists make early in their careers, to prove they can deliver the genre goods.

Marshals: Lost Girls

In Yellowstone country, jurisdiction is serious business. For a Dutton, not so much. Kayce Dutton’s family has gone rogue before, so he is willing to go rogue again. However, when Thomas Rainwater, the Chairman of the Broken Rock Reservation makes an official request for assistance finding trafficked girls, the Marshals are relieved to finally help real victims and pursue real scumbags in “Lost Girls,” tonight’s episode, “Lost Girls.”

Running a fruitless errand to Wyoming, Dutton’s son Tate happens to meet a former classmate, Hayley Charlo, in a truck stop, but she doesn’t seem to be herself. Quick follow-up reveals Charlo is one of many missing Reservation girls, who have been dismissed as runaways. Babysitting a piece of trash Federal witness leaves a rather bad taste with most of the Marshals, so they start quietly investigating until they get official permission.

Frankly, Dutton and Miles Kittles aren’t so quiet about it. While he was still with the Reservation Police, Kittles diligently worked the case of Charlo’s missing friend Ava. This week, he might be the loose cannon their boss, Pete Calvin should be worrying about.

This episode definitely taps into the human trafficking outrage of The Sound of Freedom, while capturing the Marshals’ frustrations with conflicting and overlapping jurisdictions. There is also a bit of “Frontier Justice,” but it doesn’t come from Kayce. However, it is deserved and cathartic.

13 Days, 13 Nights: In the Hell of Kabul

This film was made possible by Joe Biden’s gross negligence and utter dereliction of duty. Even the French thought his incompetent surrender of Afghanistan was a disaster. That’s pretty bad. They also thought their Frenchness would earn them some slack from the new Taliban masters, but they too endured a harrowing evacuation. Hollywood might still be ignoring the national trauma of 2021, but French filmmaker Marti Bourboulon (of the Three Musketeers duology) gambled by adapting French Security Attache Mohamed “Mo” Bida’s memoir of the hasty exfiltration. Apparently, France did not embrace it, but maybe the film will find a second life in the USA with the recent theatrical and VOD release of Bourboulon’s 13 Days, 13 Nights: In the Hell of Kabul.

Things are already pretty much in a shambles when the film opens. Partly, that is because Bida has the remaining embassy staff burning and smashing everything they can’t take with them. The streets aren’t safe, but he briefly steps out to pick up Sediqi, a good friend who served in the fallen government’s intelligence service. Obviously, he is on the Taliban’s death list, as the stab wound in his stomach attests.

Getting him to the embassy is not exactly easy, but evacuating him, along with other vouched-for asylum-seekers will be even harder. To get them from the barricaded embassy to the besieged Kabul Airport, Bida will have to improvise. While the Ambassador and the national government in Paris dither, Bida assumes authority, deciding to beg forgiveness later, rather than waiting on permission. However, he needs help from Eva, a Franco-Afghan NGO staffer, to translate, even though the armed Taliban patrolling the streets automatically consider her “unclean.” Of course, we know only too well their convoy won’t necessarily be safe, even if they successfully enter the airport grounds.

Bourboulon vividly and viscerally recreates the fear and chaos of the Kabul streets. He never whitewashes the violent nature of the Taliban, or their misogyny. Every checkpoint and gunpoint pull-over becomes a white-knuckle nightmare. Yet, it is important to watch these scenes to understand the character of the regime we allowed back into power. (Yes, Trump signed an agreement with the Taliban at the end of his first term, but Biden repudiated every other Trump policy. Yet, this one was sacrosanct? Regardless, his watch, his responsibility.)

U.S. audiences should be prepared for the appearance of late Marine Corps Sgt. Nicole Gee (one of thirteen American military service members murdered at the Abbey Gate bombing) as a minor character. Bourboulon and thesp Athena Strates present her in a respectful manner. Nevertheless, these scenes might be a bit of a shock for her family and comrades.

Baseball: Beyond Belief, in The Epoch Times

BASEBALL: BEYOND BELIEF makes a compelling case that community,tradition, faith, and related optimism are uniquely baked into the fabric of the game. It celebrates lives of worship and fandom. Plus, it features several former NY Yankees. EPOCH TIMES review up here.

After the Rain: Putin’s Stolen Children Come Home

Putin uses Russia’s youth as cannon fodder, so it should hardly surprise anyone that he treats Ukrainian children as pawns and spoils of war. Over 200,000 Ukrainian juveniles have been abducted into Russia. So far, only a fraction have been recovered. Not shockingly, those who return suffer from considerable trauma. Understanding the need for counseling, as well as a break from the constant Russian shelling, a lake-front animal therapy clinic in Latvia offers healing retreats to rescued Ukrainian children and a parent-guardian. There will be no panaceas, but at least they get a break from the war and start the healing process, as Sarah McCarthy documents in After the Rain: Putin’s Stolen Children Come Home, which starts streaming today on IndiePix Unlimited.

Putin and his Wagner lackeys probably wouldn’t give a working-class Ukrainian fellow like Yvgeny a second look. Likewise, they would likely scoff at a simple Grandma like Vera. Yet, they both ventured into Russia to bring home his daughter Sasha (and Sasha’s siblings) and her daughter Veronika. It was especially dangerous for Yvgeny, because he had been held for over a month in a civilian prison camp, but it was a choice most parents surely understand.

Few abducted children could simply shrug off the experience. That is especially true for Sasha and Veronika, so they have been invited to the retreat. There will be swimming and hiking, but the real attractions are the therapy horses and the therapy dogs. The latter are pretty darn charming and eternally patient.

Nobody thinks the kids will be all better by the time they leave (except maybe regular viewers of daytime talk shows). However, the staff seems to make some progress. They have been through these sorts of sessions before, yet they seem surprised by how deeply their latest cases affect them on an emotional level.

Sylvain Chomet’s A Magnificent Life

It isn’t easy being a national treasure, especially if you’re France’s national treasure. For Marcel Pagnol, that meant being in the public eye during the National Socialist occupation and the post-War malaise. However, his working-class Marseilles roots largely kept him grounded. Reluctantly, Pagnol takes stock of his life and career, with the help of some ghosts from his past (including the spirit of his younger self) in director-screenwriter Sylvain Chomet’s animated film A Magnificent Life, which opens tomorrow in New York.

Thanks to Matthew Gravelle’s rich, Richard Burton-esque Welsh voice in the English dubbing, American viewers cannot appreciate Pagnol’s Marseilles accent. Evidently, the Southern dialect could be rather baffling for 1920s Parisians. That is why his early plays written in dialect were such a risk. Yet, they were surprise hits, establishing the fame of Pagnol and his featured actor, Raimu (who developed a persona as sort of a Marseilles Archie Bunker). Years later, Daniel Auteuil remade three of Pagnol’s Marseilles plays, The Well-Digger’s Daughter, Maurius, and Fanny, which all had American distribution.

Contracted to write a serialized memoir, the blocked Pagnol claims to remember little of his life, particularly his early years. However, the manifestation of childhood-self starts to pull the memories out of him. His eventual literary success represents the fulfillment of promises made to himself and his beloved mother, who tragically died during his childhood. She too often looks down on Pagnol, like a guardian angel.

The ghosts of Pagnols-past will have much to watch over. As a playwright, he enjoys great successes, as well as a few bombs. However, he shows the vision most of his theatrical colleagues lack, by embracing cinema just as sound and other technological advances were allowing a more robust dramatic experience. Rather slyly, Chomet frequently incorporates archival film clips within his animation (yet, these too, alas, were also dubbed for the theatrical release).

Chomet does not quite convey the magnitude of Pagnol’s status as an early movie mogul—one who vertically controlled the cinema process from studio to theater, even including the labs that developed the film stock. However, he partially explains how Pagnol sandbagged his own business during the occupation era, which allowed him to sell out to Gaumont rather than surrendering his company to the Vichy authorities. Yet, he still faced collaborationist charges, which were ultimately dropped. Chomet addresses these controversies, but in a rather rushed manner that clearly glosses over considerable drama and angst.

Heroes, on Viaplay

These three characters would be sufficiently absurd for a Samuel Beckett play, were it not for their grouchy attitudes. Considering how difficult these old veterans are in their dotage, imagine what they were like during the unspecified war. They don’t do much, but they sure talk a lot about it in director-screenwriter Kirill Bin’s Heroes, a Ukrainian film based on Tom Stoppard’s English translation of Gerald Sibleyras’s French play, The Wind in the Poplars, which premieres today on Viaplay.

Considering the game of telephone Sibleyras’s original play went through, it is entirely possible that much was lost, or mysteriously “found” in the translation processes. On the other hand, it is not a particularly complex play. Three elderly veterans sit and kvetch in their favorite gazebo, talking perverse comfort in their shared anti-social misanthropy.

Gustav is probably the most crotchety and sarcastic. Fernand is the youngest, but often falls victim to fainting spells. He also holds fast to the irrational fear that the head nun is out to kill him, in hopes of freeing up his birthdate for a new resident. Of the trio, Rene might be the most rational, but he is an instigator and a bit of a romantic, in unhealthy ways.

There is also a stone statue of a dog, which Gustav considers the best company in the entire retirement home—and perhaps justifiably so. Indeed, it takes a bit of acclimating to the tone and rhythm of Heroes. The cranky trio are a lot and they have no on/off switch.

If you wanted a Grumpy Old Men sequel with more existential angst, than Heroes is the answer to your prayers. Admittedly, the three principal cast-members are amusing, particularly Aleksey Vertinskiy as gleefully sardonic Gustav. Nevertheless, a little of this film goes a long way. Honestly, if you finish it in three sittings or less, then you’ll have me beat.

Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s Chime

Those noises in your head can really do a number on your sanity. Just ask the narrator of Poe’s “A Tell-Tale Heart.” However, it is not clear whether Takuji Matsuoka truly hears them. Regardless, it seems that he “contracted” the insanity of someone who did in director-screenwriter Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s 45-minute short-ish film, Chime, which opens this Friday together with Kurosawa’s classic The Serpent’s Path (the original, not Kurosawa’s recent remake).

Matsuoka works as continuing ed. culinary instructor, but he clearly yearns to return to the kitchen as a head chef.  He is not a great teacher, but to be fair, most educators would struggle with a weirdo like Ichiro Tashiro. When Tashiro complains about hearing chimes inaudible to the rest of the class, Matsuoka tries to ignore him. However, he can’t ignore what comes next.

Does Matsuoka inherit his craziness, or did he always have it? Did Tashiro’s horror show simply provide a catalyst for releasing it? Kurosawa clearly wants to keep the answers to such questions ambiguous, perhaps even unknowable. Regardless, Matsuoka takes a sinister turn that even surpasses Tashiro.

Arguably, Chime feels like Kurosawa, the horror master, taking a stab at more subtle and slippery “elevated” “post-horror.” There are shocking moments, but Kurosawa too coyly toys with the horror elements to sustain much tension.

As Matsuoka, Mutsuo Yoshioka’s performance is defined by an utter soullessness, even before his apparent insanity kicks in. Yet, Seiichi Kohinata is more disturbing as Tashiro, due to his twitchy, awkward sadness.

The WASPs: Taking Flight, the Nadine Ramsey Story

Most people think Kansas is just one big wheat field, but in the early 20^th Century, it was also known for its extensive oil fields. Due to its oil tycoons and infamously flat landscape, Kansas also became the center of American aviation. At a time when most average people never even considered air travel, a lot of average Kansans were able to take flying lesson, including women like Nadine Ramsey. When war ignited, Ramsey and her fellow women pilots had skills America needed, but their country wasn’t ready to fully accept them. Matthew Hausle profiles Ramsey and her achievements as one of the most prominent members of the Women Airforce Service Pilots (WASPs) in The WASPs: Taking Flight, The Nadine Ramsey Story, narrated by Jacqueline Bisset, which releases tomorrow on VOD.

For a film a few seconds shy of 70 minutes, The WASPS: Taking Flight manages to cover a whole lot of material that people really ought to know more about. In addition to chronicling Nadine Ramsey’s life, Hausle devotes nearly equal time to her brother Edwin, an Army officer, who became one of the guerrilla warriors most wanted by the Imperial Japanese in the occupied Philippines.

Given his uncertain status throughout most of the war, it is understandable why Nadine Ramsey might feel particularly motivated to assist the war effort. The Army Air Force needed both pilots and planes, but the factories were churning out the latter quicker than the Army could train the former. Although combat roles for women was a non-starter during that era, WASPs were reluctantly allowed to fly new planes from their factories, to rally points for overseas deployment. These were by and large solo flights, through all kinds of rough weather, over all sorts of terrain.

Frankly, the Japanese and Germans were lucky they never had to face a former stunt pilot like Ramsey. She originally learned barnstorming techniques, because she was inspired by Amelia Earhart’s example (admittedly, there is a bit of irony to that point, which was apparently lost on Hausle and his talking heads).

Marshals: The Gathering Storm

Now that he is a U.S. Marshal, Kayce Dutton gets to risk his life in new and different ways, while all his family’s old enemies still have it out for him. In this episode, Dutton and Calvin head up into the mountains, looking for a crashed helicopter, but his job might be gone by the time he gets back in “The Gathering Storm,” the latest episode of creator Stephen Hudnut’s Marshals, which premieres tonight on CBS.

The Cleggs weren’t big enough to even register in Yellowstone, but they are still standing and still hold a grudge. Randall Clegg’s two dumb sons turned outlaw in a previous episode, forcing Dutton to shoot one of them dead, to save fellow Marshal Miles Kittle. Unfortunately, the late Clegg’s firearm was not recovered, so now the Cleggs are filing civil rights charges against Dutton and the local cop-hating lawyer is only too happy to help. The Marshals’ politically appointed boss, Harry Gifford also wants to capitalize on the complaint to prosecute his own grudge against the Duttons, so he orders Deputy Marshal Cruz to find the dirt to bring down her fellow Marshal.

While Cruz reluctantly builds a case against Dutton, including a shameful strategy of using Navy SEALs’ reputation for PTSD as a talking point, Dutton and fellow SEAL follow the fuel trail to Tom Weaver’s crash site. Initially, Dutton’s attitude towards the imperiled former Wall Street titan is quite caustic, because he assumes the rich man is a lot like his father. However, once they reach the stranded gentleman rancher, Dutton starts to understand Weaver’s paternal relationship was a lot like his own. In fact, the Weavers might possibly become allies, if Dutton and Calvin survive the grizzly bear and other assorted dangers they encounter in the Montana wilderness.

“The Gathering Storm” might be the best Marshals episode to date, because it clearly portrays the methods lawyers and politicians use to harass and demoralize law enforcement officers. This episode’s campaign against Dutton is dishonorable, but typical and very true to real-life.

Project Hail Mary, in Cinema Daily US

PROJECT HAIL MARY successfully marries the hard science fiction of Arthur C. Clarke with an alien buddy movie. It is the kind of original genre filmmaking that can rekindle interest in sf. CINEMA DAILY US review up here.

The Count of Monte Cristo, on PBS

Many people say living well is the best revenge. Edmond Dantes is not one of them. That is too bad for him, because he could live quite nicely on his newfound fortune. It is also too bad for the three French rats who did him dirty. Dantes will have his revenge, served as cold as possible. Unlike the recent French film, series director Billie August and adaptation co-writers Sandro Petraglia & Greg Latter lean more into the novel’s tragedy than its swashbuckling throughout the eight episodes of the new The Count of Monte Cristo, which premieres tomorrow night on PBS.

Dantes is blessed with a beautiful fiancée, Mercedes Herrera, and a supporting boss, Pierre Morel, the owner of his merchant vessel. Unfortunately, he is also cursed with two scummy rivals. Fernand Mondego, the future Count de Morcerf, covets Herrera’s hand in marriage, while Danglars resents Morel promoting Dantes above him. Out of spite, they falsely denounce Dantes as a Bonapartist agent. Initially, the local prosecutor, Gerard Villefort sees through their deception. However, he consigns innocent Dantes to the notorious Chateau d’If prison to coverup his late captain’s involvement Villefort’s Bonapartist father.

During his fifteen years of confinement, Dantes is erroneously reported dead to the outside world. Subsequently, Herrera reluctantly marries Mondego, who ascends to the French senate after a checkered military career. Danglars also finds wealth and a title in Parisian finance, while Villefort becomes one of the top national prosecutors.

Dantes also stays busy, befriending the heretical Abbe Faria, who schools the sailor on all the social graces a proper gentleman should know, as they painstakingly prepare their escape. He also informs Dantes of the location of a fabulous cache of secret treasure hidden on the uninhabited isle of Monte Cristo.

Petraglia and Latter follow Dumas reasonably closely, but their adaptation takes explicit inspiration from the Chinese proverb: “those who seek revenge, should first dig two graves.” In fact, they paraphrase it on multiple occasions. Not surprisingly, that gives this Monte Cristo a distinctly dark hue.

Unlike Pierre Niney in the recent French film, Sam Claflin never crosses swords with any of his sworn enemies. However, he broods harder than a diamond. Weirdly, the tall, bearded Claflin also bears an ironically distracting resemblance to Joel McHale. However, the facial hair helps explain why nobody recognizes Dantes, at least to an extent.

Regardless, you have to respect the sheer seething bile Claflin projects throughout the series. Michele Riondino and Lino Guanciale are also both roguishly charismatic as Dantes’ allies, Jacopo the fisherman and Vampa, the former bandit. Plus, the great Jeremy Irons perfectly personifies the Abbe’s learned fatalism.

Mr. Burton: Becoming Richard Burton

He was one of the original “angry young men” of “Kitchen Sink Realism” and one of the finest Shakespearean actors of his generation, despite being Welsh. According to Elizabeth Taylor, he owed it all to his teacher, Philip Burton. The thespian’s relationship to his spiritual—and eventually adopted father is dramatized in Marc Evans’ Mr. Burton, which releases today on VOD.

Rich Jenkins’ birth father was an alcoholic miner, who pawned the bright teen off on his older, married sister, Cis. Her husband demanded the future Burton work for his keep, so he was forced to drop out of school. However, Philip Burton convinced the family to allow the lad to re-enroll. He also cast Jenkins in his first amateur theatrical production. As you might expect, the kid showed some promise.

Consequently, Jenkins decided he wished to pursue acting so he turned to Burton for help. His mentor coached him in elocution, projection, and taming that Welsh accent. However, it quickly became clear the theater gatekeepers would not allow admittance to a Jenkins, but a Burton might have a shot.

In many respects, Mr. Burton is a rather touching mentor-protégé story that takes on genuine Horatio Alger proportions. Harry Lawtey nicely captures the raw, working-class Jenkins, while suggesting hints of the acclaimed and scandalous Burton that he would become. Indeed, we see early indications of the drinking and smoking that would contribute to long-term health issues for Burton.

However, screenwriters Tom Bullough and Josh Hyams do Jenkins/Burton a massive disservice when they create a fictional rift between the Burtons, resulting from Richard’s supposed distrust of closeted Philip’s motives. The whole point of the film (which released last year in the UK) was to celebrate the Richard Burton centennial. Yet, it sullies the actor’s image, solely for the sake of identity politics. Their only brief period of estrangement actually occurred when Richard left his first wife Sybil (whom Philip adored), to marry Elizabeth Taylor. That was some real drama, but to include it in the film would require casting the roles of both wives.

Loznitsa’s Two Prosecutors

Ironically, guileless Kornyev is especially vulnerable to Stalin’s purges, precisely because he ardently believes in Communism and the virtue of the tyrannical General Secretary. That leaves him defenseless to those who better understand the Party’s true nature and what is necessary to survive it. Ill-advisedly, Kornyev goes straight to the top, reporting his suspicions of corruption to Procurator General Andrey Vyshinsky, the legal architect of Stalin’s Purges in director-screenwriter Sergei Lotznitsa’s Two Prosecutors, which opens tomorrow in New York.

Tired old Pegleg gets a relatively easy prison job—burning all the letters sent to Stalin, asking him to intervene in a loved one’s case, in the interests of “justice.” It turns out his blood-scrawled note is in there too. It presumably never reached Stalin, but somehow it found its way to Kornyev, a recently appointed provincial prosecutor (functioning somewhat like an investigating magistrate).

Kornyev insists on interviewing Stepniak, as the prisoner was still known, even though the prison officials think he is crazy for wasting his time. They put him through a Kafkaesque bureaucratic ringer, but eventually they relent. Convinced Stepniak has been unjustly prosecuted, Kornyev fears the local authorities are acting in concert to undermine confidence in the Soviet justice system, so he leaves for Moscow, intending to report his findings directly to Vyshinsky.

Frankly, Kornyev’s naivete is painful to behold. Watching him dig his own grave, deeper and deeper, is absolutely agonizing. Indeed, the greatest tragedy is his own faith in the Party. In most films, finding yourself several step ahead of the protagonist induces boredom, but in this case, it is utterly nerve-wracking waiting for the ironclad shoe to drop.

Two Prosecutors is an austerely Spartan film, partly because that is how life is under socialism, and partly because Loznitsa allows nothing to distract from Kornyev’s self-inflicted doom. The film only consists of a half-dozen scenes, but each one almost suffocates viewers with tension and absurdity.