This is sort of a Scandinavian Rain Man, but more hardboiled. Anker always
tried to protect his emotionally fragile brother Manfred, until he went to
prison for his part in a heist that went wrong. His absence clearly further
destabilized Manfred, who now insists his name is John, as in John Lennon. Anker
needs his brother sufficiently lucid to remember where he buried the loot, but
to reach that point, he might need to get the old band back together in
director-screenwriter Anders Thomas Jensen’s The Last Viking, which
releases tomorrow in theaters and on digital.
Anker
tried his best to protect Manfred from their abusive father, but that made him
a target for the old man’s wrath, as well. Manfred escaped in his fantasy realm
of Viking lore and dress-up, until their father prohibited such coping devices.
Understandably, Manfred was never exactly stable, but Anker trusted him,
because of their shared history. That is why he gave his brother instructions to
recover the stolen loot and bury it in the woods behind their family’s old
cabin.
Unfortunately,
“John” has no idea what Anker is talking about. To make matters even more
awkward, the former-Manfred exhibits suicidal tendencies whenever his Beatles
identity is challenged. Nevertheless, Ankers hopes to cajole the location out
of him, by taking a trip down memory lane. That ntails staying in the B&B
operated by new owners, Margrethe and Werner. Lothar, the frustrated
head-shrinker supports this plan, but he wants to take it to a new level. He suggests
assembling a delusional Fab Four of Scandinavian mental patients so they can
confront their identity crisis together. Meanwhile, Flemming, Anker’s former
accomplice, wants his share of the loot and he never asks nicely.
Running
just shy of two full hours, Last Viking drags on for far too long,
especially considering we can see Jensen’s “surprise” revelations coming around
the bend. However, it gives Mads Mikkelsen a chance to really stretch out in an
unexpected direction, playing the twitchy and introverted Manfred/John. In
contrast, Nikolaj Lie Kaas continues the low-simmering brooding that he
perfected in the Department Q franchise.
This documentary almost didn’t exist. Had Trump appointed retired astronaut NASA
Administrator after she addressed the 2016 RNC Convention, as some speculated
he might, there is no way this film would have been made. Nevertheless, she
remains and will always be the first woman to both pilot and command Space Shuttle
missions. Yet, former NASA flight director Paul Hill argues Collins’contributions
to the American space program were far more important than her famous “firsts”
in Hannah Berryman’s documentary, Spacewoman, which opens tomorrow in
LA.
Nothing
was ever handed to Eileen Collins. She grew up in a working-class Upstate New
York household, constantly dealing with her family’s issues of addiction,
mental health, and abuse. Yet, by working multiple jobs, she paid for her
initial flying lessons. Graduating into the U.S. Air Force through the ROTC,
she aspired to join the astronaut program. To gain the necessary flight expertise
and hours, she became an Air Force test pilot. Along the way, she met and
married her husband, Pat Youngs, who left the Air Force to become a commercial
airline pilot. It allowed him to support her career, but still relate to some
of her aeronautical challenges.
It was
a lot harder for their daughter Bridgit Youngs, who was just old enough to understand
the Challenger disaster. Indeed, the memory of the explosion was still fresh when
Collins was selected for her first mission—her first “first,” piloting the Discovery
and docking with the Russian Mir (way back in 1995, before Russia reverted to
authoritarianism).
In
1999, she also became the first woman to command a Shuttle mission. Yet, as
Hill compellingly argues, her most important command was not her first. It was STS-114,
the so-called “Return to Space,” after the Columbia tragedy. Despite all the
scrutiny, the mission developed potentially fatal complications, which Collins
and her colleagues, primarily Hill and former Shuttle program manager Wayne Hale,
thoroughly explain in dramatic but lucid and easily understood terms.
The mid 1990s were a golden era for Jack Russell Terriers. There was Eddie (played
by Moose) on Fraser and Milo (played by Max) in the movie The Max.
However, Wishbone (played by Soccer) was the star of his own show. As a bonus,
it was also educational. Frankly, it was exactly the sort of programing PBS was
supposed to produce, but they mismanaged it. Nevertheless, Wishbone and the late,
great Soccer remain beloved by cast, crew, and fans, who fondly remember the
dog and his show in Joey Stewart’s documentary What’s the Story, Wishbone,
which starts airing tomorrow on participating PBS stations.
Rick
Duffield started with a vague notion to produce an educational TV program in
the Dallas area that evolved into a pitch-kit that PBS greenlighted for a five-episode
trial, much to everyone’s surprise. Yet, being a crew outside of LA, they could
quickly adapt. Somehow, they started turning out their initial order, which were
so well received, PBS came back with a full season order of 40 episodes. Again,
they were shocked, but again, the cast and crew knuckled down and cranked out episodes.
It
helped that everyone believed in the show and generally loved Wishbone/Soccer.
In fact, it seems like there were almost no personality conflicts, judging from
the extensive interviews Stewart incorporates throughout the film. Consequently,
anyone hoping to learn about Wishbone’s dirty secrets will be bitterly
disappointed.
Of course,
everyone loves Wishbone. To prove the point, Stewart opens with tributes from
Pres. George W. Bush and his sworn enemy, Dan Rather. It is easy to see why.
Soccer was enormously photogenic and cinematic. He was also surprisingly easy
to work with. According to the series cinematographer, Soccer consistently hit
his marks (perhaps with better reliability than some human actors we could
think of). The canine performer was also unusually cooperative when it came to wearing
his period costumes.
Watching
Stewart’s doc gives viewers a fuller understanding of the craftsmanship that
went into each episode, including the special effects supervised by ILM alumnus
Caris Palm Turpen. However, PBS was determined to “a strip it,” but that required
a constant flow of new daily Monday-Friday episodes, which the economics of the
show simply could not accommodate. However, Showtime helped finance the show’s
big send-off, Wishbone’s Dog Days of the West.
As Suzanna Martha Frederika Van Osch embraced the horror genre, she added the additional
“Z.” It was a shrewd decision, whereas opinions vary quite drastically regarding
her second marriage. Regardless, “Suzzanna,” as she was affectionately known
and billed (like Cher and Madonna) remains the face of 1980s Indonesia horror
for fans both foreign and domestic. David Gregory chronicles her life and
career in the documentary The Queen of Black Magic, which is included in
the Severin Film Suzzanna boxset releasing tomorrow on BluRay.
Early
in her career, Suzanna (with one “Z”) was practically Indonesia’s sweetheart. She
appeared in sentimental dramas and even recorded sugary pop records with her
first husband, fellow thesp and frequent co-star Dicky Suprapto. During the
1970s, she started making more exploitative genre movies for less formal “Layar
Tancap” cinemas, often projected on bedsheets for neighborhoods without brick-and-mortar
theaters. Of course, they loved her.
Suzzanna
(with two Z’s) only made one horror in the 1970’s, but it became a sort of prototype
for her 80’s output. In 1983, she also made an exploitation film about a mother’s
lurid relationship with her estranged son, played by teenaged Clift
Sangra, who in real-life became her second husband. Weirdly, he also portrayed
her son in her final film.
To make things even more awkward, many of Suzzanna’s friends and family members
clearly suspected him of complicity in her death. Some even accused him of
trying to contract her murder. While Sangra sat for extensive interviews, he
emerges as his own worst advocate. Sangra never legally compromises himself,
but he just radiates bad vibes.
Tonight will be another example of heavily-armed cowboys working with the
Reservation. Way back in the pilot, Kayce Dutton and his future-fellow Deputy
Marshals protected Thomas Rainwater, the Chairman of Broken Rock Reservation,
from a would-be assassin. Since then, they received little credit from Broken
Rock residents, but tons of grief from locals supporting the rare earths mine Rainwater
wants to block. Like everyone in the Yellowstone universe, Rainwater is
not inclined to back down, which leads to more work for Dutton and his
colleagues in “Wolves at the Door,” the season finale of Marshals,
premiering tonight on CBS.
Given
his suspension, Miles Kittle is too politically radioactive to testify in
Washington. Fortunately, he wanted to change the Chairman’s mind, so he was
there to help Mo Brings Plenty fend off a pair of killers. Dutton offers to secretly
host the Chairman at East Camp while the Marshal Service investigates. That
would be the same East Camp he suddenly decided not to sell industrialist-turned-rancher
Tom Weaver.
Of
course, it won’t be long before another larger hit squad launches a siege on
East Camp. However, Chief Deputy Marshal Pete Calvin intends to ride in like
the cavalry. He even restores Kittle’s badge, which might even endear him to his
estranged daughter Maddie, assuming everyone survives the shootout.
Not
surprisingly, this episode offers little sense of resolution. Instead, it clearly
hopes to hook viewers for a second season (which presumably will be coming,
given Marshals’ consistently strong ratings). Yet, it is also one of the
episodes Yellowstone fans skeptical of the procedural format might
appreciate, because the Dutton-Rainwater relationship takes center stage.
You might assume that if we knew the date the world will end, we could do something
to stop it, but apparently not. Apparently, to understand, you need to be an
apocalyptologist like Abel Ferrara, who even identified the exact time the end
would toll in 4:44 Last Day on Earth. At least his characters were only
haunted by their own regrets. Aubrey and Tom’s friends will be haunted by an actual
ghost. That is sort of the reason the couple invited them for a reckoning
before the reckoning in Brothers Brett & Jason Butler’s The Last
Anniversary, which is now playing in Toronto.
It
turns out Aubrey and Tom did not select an auspicious date for their wedding.
As fate would have it, their anniversary falls on Judgement Day. Their wedding
night was also the last time they saw her sister Brenda, who mysteriously
disappeared after the reception.
As the
rest of the world hunkers down, the couple invited the surviving wedding party
members to the very same mountain resort hotel (now abandoned), for a supposedly
cathartic reunion. However, the couple has something more Old Testament in mind.
Unbeknownst to them, Brenda has similar ideas. Her ghost still haunts the
hotel, so she starts terrorizing the returning wedding guests, showing herself
at dramatic moments and even physically choking them.
The
Butler Brothers sustain a strange tone throughout the film, which either evokes
the best of 1970s Eurohorror, or the worst. It also intentionally pays homage
to The Shining, with its endless spooky corridors and the room everyone
shuns like a cruise ship carrying the Hantavirus.
The
results are just odd. Films that take big metaphysical swings risk falling flat
on their face. To the Butlers’ estimable credit, that does not happen here.
They also maintain enough horror business to preserve the film’s genre
viability. Yet, there are frequent “what the heck” moments that will baffle conventional
horror fans, but those parts are clearly what were most important to the Butlers.
PASSENGER is deceptively simple but eerily potent, because its lore involving St. Christopher his demonic nemesis, and Depression-era Hobo culture carries such deep archetypal resonance.CINEMA DAILY US review up here.
Hana's parasite is more dangerous than a tapeworm, because it is literally a hungry
ghost. Ill-advisedly, she deliberately ingested it of her own free-will. Of
course, she did not foresee the side effects. On the plus side, her weight loss
is dramatic in director-screenwriter Natalie Erika James’ Saccharine,
which opens today in New York.
Despite
her medical studies, Hana suffers from low self-esteem, exacerbated by family
issues. Therefore, she tries one of the diet pills given to her by a formerly
obese childhood friend, who now looks unbelievably slim. It works, but the
price per pill is prohibitively steep. Applying her training, Hana analyzes the
substance, finding it identical to human ash. As “luck” would have it, Hana and
her loyal friend Josie are dissecting a human cadaver this semester. Rather
enterprisingly, Hana stays behind after class to pack a doggy bag of the remains
they left for disposal.
Of
course, her bootleg pills similarly work, to a shocking degree. Even her crush,
Alanya, the trainer who overseeing her bootcamp-style fitness regimen, is
impressed—and eventually concerned. Hana also starts to worry when realizes the
cadaver’s ghost has been watching and menacing her. She only comes when Hana’s
blood sugar falls below a certain level. Once the med student binges, the
terrors subside. However, the pattern quickly grows disruptive and alarming to
bystanders.
Larry
Van Duynhoven’s prosthetic design work for the “before” Hana is remarkably
convincing. However, Midori Francis must still sell Hana’s transformation, which
indeed she does. Indeed, she delivers an unusually sensitive and emotionally
complex performance, by conventional horror movie standards.
This will sort of be like The Breakfast Club for Sloane Price and some of her
classmates, except instead of learning to understand each other’s differences,
they will simply try to avoid getting bit by zombies. Admittedly, their high
school is a good place to set up barricades, but the Gen Z’er’s definitely lack
the survival instincts of Gen X’er’s in Adam MacDonald’s This is Not a Test,
which premieres tomorrow on Shudder.
Considering
how relentlessly Price father abuses her and her older sister Lily, the zombies
probably don’t look so bad to her. Seriously, why does every father have to be
an abusive pedophile in horror movies? It is like Stphen King’s weird, deep-seated
resentments were contagious. Indeed, this is the first example of how This is
not a Test looks and feels an awful lot like an awful lot of other movies.
Regardless,
one fateful morning, the zombie hordes descend on Price’s street like locusts.
Amid the mayhem, she connects with cocky jock Cary Chen, the popular Casper
twins (Trace and Grace, seriously), and Rhys Moreno, who always carried a torch
for her. Somehow, they manage to reach and secure their high school—but probably
not to a sufficiently safe degree. Of course, there is considerable friction in
the group, as well as sexual tension, to undermine their concentration and
team-work.
Just like the U.S. Defense Department had their playing cards identifying Saddam’s fellow
Socialist Baath Party war criminals in Iraq, the New Republic has their own
deck of wanted high-ranking Imperials. Of course, each fugitive comes with a bounty.
Needless to say, a resourceful Mandalorian bounty hunter like Din Djarin (a.k.a.
“Mando”) would be interested in that business. In fact, they are the only gigs
the newly respectable bounty hunter now accepts in Jon Favreau’s Star Wars:
The Mandalorian and Grogu, which opens this Friday in theaters.
As the
title promises, this is the same Mando and Grogu fans know and love from the
streaming series. Mando presents himself as a hardnosed adventurer for hire, he
is really a sentimental do-gooder, especially when it comes to his adopted son-apprentice
Grogu (a.k.a. “Baby Yoda”), who matures at a much slower rate than mere
mortals, but already wields considerable command of the Force.
Despite
his innocence and small stature, Grogu’s power makes him handy to have around
when Mando collects bounties. Judging from the extended prologue, he and Mando can
just barely handle an entire regiment of stormtroopers, between the two of
them. Taking down the first Imperial warlord gets messy. Their next assignment
gets even messier.
Col. Ward orders/hires/bribes Mando to “rescue” Rotta the Hutt, Jabba’s
estranged and reformed son, from a Bladerunner-like world and return him
to his not-so loving uncle and aunt, in return for information on the mysterious
Janu, the one of the highest-ranking cards left in the deck. Weirdly though,
Rotta seems like a heck of a nice whatever he is—and he doesn’t want to leave.
The most
frequent complaint leveled at M & G is that it plays like three new
episodes of the streaming series, filmed in IMAX with somewhat more elaborate
special effects. Basically, that is true, but seriously, isn’t that what fans
want? More of the same. This is the same Mando and the same Grogu. Favreau doesn’t
need to “put his stamp” on the characters, because he created them in the first
place.
In
fact, Favreau and co-screenwriters Dave Filoni and Noah Kloor seem to have
learned from the franchise’s past mistakes. They never indulge in identity politics
or virtue-signaling, but maintain strict character consistency with the series.
Essentially, it is all action, all the time. We should all be so lucky to have
a quarter for every stormtrooper who gets blasted to his eternal rewards in
this film. The alien worlds also look fantastic in IMAX, particularly the
mountain vistas of the prologue and the Hutts’ planet, distinguished by its
giant toadstool landscape. However, some of the CGI is awkwardly iffy,
especially the dragon-snake.
Shrewdly,
the subplot involving the Hutts provides an apostolic link to the original
trilogy. It deepens and enriches fans understanding of Jabba’s empire, without
changing his character one iota. As a considerable bonus, Jeremy Allen White contributes
one of the best voiceover performances of the year, making Rotta sound bizarrely
soulful.
Maybe it isn’t such a good idea to double-cross an accomplice, because they will
have ample time to work out in the prison gym. Devon clearly spent much of the
last five and a half years pumping iron and studying martial arts. He also
strenuously insists nothing happened in the showers, to the point of being
creepy. Frankly, Devon is a bit slow-witted, so instead of seeking revenge, he
simply asks for his cut. However, instead of money, he gets payback, often
through sheer dumb luck in Elliott Montello’s Reckless, which releases
on digital this Friday.
Everyone
can tell Devon’s so-called “mates” set him up, even Kimber and she just met him—under
very trying circumstances. She just killed one of the crooks who did him wrong,
in self-defense, just as he barged into the lowlife’s office. Having her own
reasons to distrust the cops, Kimber invites herself to join Devon as his new
fugitive-buddy.
One by
one, Devon visits members of the crew, asking for the Warren Zevon trilogy, but
instead they try to kill him. The brawling gets brutal, but somehow Kimber
usually strikes the fatal blow. Nevertheless, the trail of bodies starts to concern
Trent, the big boss, who also happens to be a sitting member of the House of
Lords. Eventually, his lieutenant recruits Bishop, the neanderthal prison
shower predator, to kill Devon before he works his way up to Trent.
For
Scott Adkins fans, Reckless could be described as Avengement-lite.
It has similarly relentless fight sequences, but it also strives for an Elmore
Leonard-esque comedic tone, somewhat in the tradition of The Debt Collector.
Unforutnately, the jokes in this movie do not land with reliable frequency.
Regardless,
the action is first-rate. Arguably, there is a greater sense of jeopardy in Reckless,
because Devon’s martial arts chops remain a work in progress. Adkins also projects
the right likable loser charisma for the lunkheaded Devon. Vinnie Jones strives
for Ray Winstone-ish menace as Trent, but his villainy still better suits
street level thuggery.
This investigation will start much like that of the Scandinavian series The Bridge and
its American remake, except the span between Aleutian Islands will soon melt.
One of them is under American jurisdiction, while the other is dominated by the
Soviets. Right smack in the middle of the so-called “Ice Curtain” a young woman
was savagely murdered. It will be a difficult case for FBI Special Agent Kevin
Collins, because of the physical circumstances and the politics in artist-writer
Syzmon Kudranski’s Now Man’s Land, which releases today in a trade-paper bind-up.
In
1963, the Cold War was warming up, but not yet scalding. Collins, a veteran of
WWII counter-intelligence assumed he would be retiring. Instead, the director assigns
him a highly sensitive case. He doesn’t really have any choice, but his long-neglected
wife finally leaves him anyway.
Once he
arrives at the remote Diomede Islands, Collins decides the most practical course
of action would be to work with KGB agent Sonia Fiodrow, rather than against
her. As Collins learns her backstory, he realizes they both probably received
this assignment, because they are expendable. He is old and broken down, while
she is the daughter of samizdat-publishing dissidents.
Regardless,
they will work well together. Siodow is more familiar with the indigenous people,
while he better understands the killer’s Biblical allusions. However, their
unknown sub is not a fanatical Christian—more like the exact opposite.
No
Man’s Land starts
slow, but it is loaded with interesting ideas. The nature of the murderer is
strange and complex—in ways befitting classic Russian literature. Siodow’s
family history also powerfully indicts the oppressive Socialist system, but not
in the way you might expect.
For the men of the U.S.S. Indianapolis, sharks were deadlier than the Japanese
torpedoes. Allied Prisoner of War in the Pacific also faced a similarly
non-human threat from malaria-carrying mosquitos. However, in this
fictionalized Ardennes, American troops had to contend with sasquatch-like creatures,
as well as the Germans. Yes, this is one of those movies. There is plenty of hair,
but, sadly, the fun is less plentiful in director-screenwriter Jason Mills’ World
War Bigfoot, which releases tomorrow on VOD.
Given
the campfire prologue, “Doc” obviously lives to tell his grandchildren this war
story, thereby further reducing the potential suspense. Frankly, it is not
exactly clear his small detachment was heading into the Ardennes. Regardless, it
is a forested area along the front lines. Their objective is also vague. In
fact, they have no idea what they mission is, but “Sarge” assures them it is
top secret.
Inevitably,
they clash with Nazi troops, whose commanding officer came for the same reason.
He is equally obsessed with the Bigfoot-like creatures after seeing one first-hand.
Apparently, during the late stage of the War, American sergeants and German
junior lieutenants could just cut their own orders and requisition men, with no
questions asked.
Indeed,
their Bigfoot sightings drove both to psychosis. Doc even witnesses Sarge
murdering one of his own men, who threatened to expose his madness. So much for
the “Greatest Generation.” Mills prefers to depict the men who fought and died
to save democracy as sadistic cutthroats—excepting of course, the conscientious
objector medic, who quickly forms an alliance with his similarly enlightened German
counterpart.
As a minimally-budgeted
genre mashup, World War Bigfoot had two promising options. Go all in
with outrageous gore and over-the-top comedy, or play it straight while inviting
the audience to cheer for the American soldiers, against all enemies, foreign
or cryptid. Instead, we get the worst of both options, a slow-moving, agonizingly
self-serious film that openly posits a moral equivalency between the American
and German Armies.
The
best work comes from makeup artist-suit designer Anna Fox and fellow suit
designer Robert M. Bravo. Their creatures look surprisingly great, despite the
severe budget constraints. Honestly, this film does not deserve their
inventiveness.
For deecades, licensed original Star Wars novels and comic books generated
story development work that came fan-tested and fan-approved. Yet, Lucas Films
ignored it all. The Mandalorian and Grogu will probably successfully
apply a torniquet to the bleeding franchise, but it is ironic how scrupulously
the Lucas licensing team maintained quality control and character consistency,
only to have Lucas Films blow it all up with a parade of disappointing
streaming series. Here is a prediction: the market for out-of-print tie-in novels
and comics is going to explode, because fans can trust them not to “reinvent”
their beloved franchises. The Star Wars newspaper comic strip is a
perfect case in point. If you read them before the Mandalorian movie
opens, they will take you back to the era of peak Star Wars fandom.
Indeed,
this is the Luke Skywalker you grew up with. It is not the bitter Skywalker of
the sequel trilogy. It is not even the Skywalker of Empire Strikes Back.
This Luke still has a crush on Princess Leia Organa. Yes, the second film revealed
they were siblings, but until it released, everyone assumed there could be
romance between them, because of the kiss “for luck” on the Death Star and the
wink during the honors ceremony. The newspaper strip takes us back to that more
innocent time.
Even after
Empire released, the strip remained in the same in-between timeframe. In
fact, roughly the final year of storylines chronicled the Rebellion forging an
alliance with Mon Calamari (they sound like French squid, but they are the aliens
represented by Admiral Akbar), its search for a safer base, and the hasty
evacuation of Yavin’s moon, the perilous journey to icy planet Hoth.
Although
the main characters remain entirely untouched (just as fans want them to be),
the storylines had considerable implications for minor characters. In “Princess
Leia, Imperial Servant,” Organa is forced to work incognito as a handmaid on
the prison planet administered by the Grand Moff Tarkin’s widow. Since Tarkin
was played by Peter Cushing, it is quite appropriate that his wife somewhat
resembles Elsa Lanchester’s Bride in Bride of Frankenstein.
Also
quite notable is the appearance of Gen. Dodonna (who gave the Death Star briefing
when Skywalker says: “that’s not impossible. I used to bullseye womp rats in my
T-16 back home”). Unfortunately, Luke discovers Dodonna’s son Vrad is a coward,
who might take a treasonous turn to save himself.
Originally,
the licensing team approved a separate Sunday storyline, but they requested it feature
different characters, so readers wouldn’t be confused. At that point, many consumers
might have been unfamiliar with this longstanding convention of continuity
strips, so it was not a bad idea. Consequently, several Sundays depict C-3PO
(not so reluctantly) supplying oral histories of Skywalker’s exploits to Mistress
Mnemos, a giant, multi-story Rebel super-computer. Unfortunately, the Sundays evolved
into a weekly recap, which makes them repetitive when read chronologically with
the dailies, even though some of the color art is incredibly cool (especially
in IDW’s restored collections).
Usually, Kayce Dutton is the Deputy Marshal most likely to go rogue. This time it
will be Miles Kittle. Ironically, he will go “off the reservation,” by going onto
the reservation. Learning belatedly of a friend’s fentanyl death, Kittle wants
to administer some frontier justice, but Chief Deputy Gifford insists on
differing to the DEA. Dutton keeps busy, but he largely gets a week off from his
usual angsty brooding in “The Devil at Home,” the latest episode of creator
Spencer Hudnut’s Marshals, premiering tonight on CBS.
Having
been hyped as a hero after the standoff with the Cleggs, Deputy Cruz’s next
assignment will be schmoozing political bigwigs with Gifford. However, she has
to admit the “whisper-quiet” combination helicopter-airplane, displayed at the
conference by real-life Archer Aviation founder Adam Goldstein (playing
himself), is really cool and potentially super useful. Maybe they can take it
for a test spin in next week’s season finale.
Chairman
Rainwater wants to use Kittle in a similar fashion to stop the adjacent mining
project. However, the news of his friend’s death quickly ends his effectiveness
schmoozing. Of course, the Marshals are all for taking down fentanyl traffickers,
but the DEA claims jurisdiction. Kittle just cannot accept the stand-down order.
In fact, his girlfriend Maddie Calvin grows so concerned, she calls her
semi-estranged father, Deputy Pete Calvin, for a status check.
Honestly, it is far better when a film calls that mythical snow-beast a yeti rather
than an “abominable snowman.” The former is much quicker to type and easier to
pronounce, so this film already has points in its favor. In the late 1940s,
Alaska wasn’t even a state yet. Largely seen as a wild and snowy frontier,
there could have been anything up there, as far as most Americans were concerned—and
in this film, they weren’t wrong. Oil man Merriell Sunday Sr. went there looking
for oil, but he found something else instead. Cartographer Ellie Bannister
agrees to guide the search party looking for him and her explorer father,
Hollis Bannister, in director-screenwriters Gene Gallerano & William
Pisciotta’s The Yeti, which releases this coming Tuesday on DVD and
BluRay.
Supposedly
old man Sunday was scouting for oil, but Bannister knows her eccentric old man
wouldn’t waste his time on that, no matter how much money the tycoon offered. Nevertheless,
they have been out of contact for far too long, so she agrees to join the rescue
operation organized by Merriell Sunday Jr. (who definitely displays deep-seated
father issues).
Somehow,
they land in the middle of a massive storm that even interferes with Bannister’s
compass. Consequntly, they get lost, quickly and badly. Viewers definitely
wouldn’t enjoy getting lost with the entitled Junior Sunday or the abrasive good
old boy demolition specialist Daniel “Dynamite” Hewitt—and neither does
Bannister. However, comms specialist Booker (who was the Enola Gay’s radio man)
is a good guy and scarred war hero Leander Coates has her back too, despite his
mildly psychotic tendencies. Of course, when the yeti (or yetis) attack, all
bets are off.
Gallerano
& Pisciotta serve up several hat-tips to the Indiana Jones movies that are
rather endearing. However, some of the deliberately retro practical effects are
a little too successful, looking more like genuine cheesiness rather than loving
homages. Frankly, the film shows symptoms of an identity crisis, because the
blood-spurting gore clashes with the nostalgia.
However,
the two old pros, William Sadler and Corbin Bernsen, elevate all their scenes as
Hollis Bannister and Sunday Senior, respectively. They are both entertainingly
flinty and grizzled. Playing against his usual over-the-top type, Jim Cummings
is a surprisingly steadying presence as salt-of-the-earth Booker. Plus, Linc
Hand delivers truly withering death stares as brooding Coates.
This movie wedding could get as bad as Game of Throne’s “Red Wedding,” but
viewers don’t have much time to invest in the characters, who generally consist
of stereotypical rich jerks. The Foresights might sound like Galsworthy’s
literary clan, but they are considerably harder and meaner. Nevertheless,
reasonably well-heeled Caleb Wingate expected to continue rising in the Foresight
family business, after marrying his boss’s daughter, until a terrorist gives
him an ultimatum: kill his new father-in-law by midnight or his newlywed wife
dies. It is not exactly a “Sophie’s Choice,” but it is still a super-awkward
buzz-kill in director-screenwriter John Michael Kennedy’s An Enemy Within,
which releases today on VOD.
Wingate’
father made no secret of his disappointment when his son went to work for the
rival Foresights. However, Robert Foresight was more of a shark, especially
when it comes to doing natural resources deals in Africa. Unfortunately, he did
not live up to his name when he crossed “The Wolf,” a notorious assassin the
Foresight company used to employ.
The
Wolf delivered the ultimatum, but a mystery client is calling the sniper’s
shots. Regardless, Wingate must kill the Foresight patriarch by the mandated
deadline and he cannot allow any guests to leave in the meantime. That causes
some seemingly erratic behavior, greatly straining his hours-old marriage. However,
an old pro like the senior Foresight recognizes trouble. However, as more
family members become privy to the standoff, the recriminations really start to
fly.
This
film definitely exhibits a pronounced degree of class resentment, but there is
also a kind of grudging admiration for the elitist characters’ ruthless survival
drives. Despite his increasingly dire situation (including a non-fatal gun-shot
wound), steely middle-aged Robert Foresight is definitely the sort of fellow
you want on your side during a time of crisis.
Jude Law is chillingly, image-shattringly good as Putin in WIZARD OF THE KREMLIN, Assayas's big, sprawling, more-truth-than-fiction chronicle of Russia's slide back into totalitarianism, as witnessed first hand, by a key Kremlin power-broker. CINEMA DAILY US review up here.
The Earth can’t seem to catch a break. The Earth Federation defeated the authoritarian-inclined
Principality of Zeon in the Gundam franchise’s Universal Century continuity,
but then the victorious Federation became increasingly corrupt and oppressive.
Hathaway Noa emerged as an important leader of the MAFTY rebellion. He hopes to
launch a major attack on the Federation, but the greatest variable complicating
his plan happens to be a self-described “courtesan.” She might also be a spy,
but it is unclear which side she favors in Shuko Murase’s anime feature Mobile
Suit Gundam Hathaway: The Sorcery of Nymph Circe, which opens tomorrow in
theaters.
In the
new GQuuuuuux alternate storyline, Zeon won the war, but Nymph Circe returns
fans to the more familiar timeline. The Hathaway narrative branch takes
place many years after the mothership anime series, but Noa represents an
important apostolic link, because he is the son of Amuro Ray’s commanding
officer, Bright Noa. With that in mind, you should be able to follow the broad
strokes of the new Hathaway feature, but many of the particulars will be
baffling.
Regardless,
the junior Noa is almost entirely focused on the rebellion. Only Gigi Andalusia
has the power to distract him. Inconveniently, her sugar daddy-patron happens
to be Col. Kenneth Sleg, the chief of Federation counter-insurgency. It is his
job to catch Noa.
So far,
Andalusia has mostly aided Sleg. Convinced that her “spider-sense” provided lifesaving
forewarning, many of Sleg’s men consider her a good luck charm. Yet, restless Andalusia
appears preoccupied with Noa. Regardless, before they can reunite, Noa must
survive some spectacular mecha battles.
Indeed,
Nymph Circe arguably boasts some of the most striking visuals of all the
recent Gundam features. The combination aerial and naval battles really are
something. For the teenaged boy market, the film also delivers considerably
more “fan service” than its recent predecessors, through its strategically framed
shots of Andalusia and Julia Suga, Noa’s torch-carrying Gundam mechanic, who
usually works in a pair of overalls and not much else.
Again,
this is some of the slickest Gundam animation yet. However, Yasuyuki
Muto’s screenplay, based on franchise creator Yoshiyuki Tomino’s original novel,
makes no concessions to newcomers. Even viewers casually familiar with the
original series and several subsequent features will have some trouble finding
their sea legs.
Furthermore,
critics who rightly called out the appalling lack of military discipline in Star
Trek: Starflight Academy should also be put off by Brinks Wedge, the
captain of a MAFTY recon ship, who regularly takes the con shirtless. Frankly,
both he and Trek’s Nahla Ake are appallingly unprofessional and uncommanding.
Movie twins tend to be creepy, like in The Shining and Dead Ringers.
That wasn’t previously true for Racine, “the Rough One,” and Anaia, “the Quiet
One.” However, their new unyielding sense purpose is a little unnerving. The twins’
long-absent mother wants them to kill their father, who also happens to be the
same “Man” responsible for the disfiguring burns all three women suffered—and they
aim to oblige in Aleshea Harris’s Is God Is, adapted from her own play,
which opens Friday in theaters.
Racine’s
burns are largely confined to her arms, but the fire cruelly left its scars across
Anaia’s face. Whether in schools or foster homes, Racine has always been quick
to pick a fight, to defend her sister from mockery or bullying. Even in
adulthood, her behavior pattern remains the same. They always assumed their
mother had abandoned them, but when Ruby, (whom they jokingly refer to as “God,”
since she “created” them), summons them to her death bed, they reluctantly comply.
Since
she also clearly suffered greatly, the twins essentially forgive Ruby, especially
after she explains how they were all torched by their father. She demands vengeance
in blood, so she can die in peace. Racine immediately agrees, but Alaia is not
so sure. Nevertheless, they start following the trail back to Ruby’s former “Man,”
inevitably leaving bodies in their wake.
Based
on Harris’s Obie Award winning play, Is God Is has been generally pitched
as a prestige film, but it plays more like a payback grindhouse release, which
is frankly good news for viewers. Indeed, Alaia explores themes of inherited trauma
and family dysfunction with a sweaty, feverish Old Testament sensibility, while
staging bloody mayhem with a deft touch.
It is hard to tell whether Boffo is a mouse or a cat, but that probably reflects
the fact he was inspired by Mickey and Felix, in equal measure. However, in the
world of this film, he was directly “inspired by,” or ripped off from Biffo,
the creation of a pioneering black animator. However, his heir probably can’t
prove it without the long-lost short Heck (short for Hector) Burrows tacks down.
Keeping it will be even trickier, because the company Boffo built, which bears
absolutely no resemblance to Disney, will do anything to make it disappear in
Nate Neal’s Treasure of the Lost Reel, premiering tonight at the 2026 Big Apple Film Festival.
Pinnacle
so litigiously protects its Boffo trademark, it recently sued a daycare center
over an unauthorized screening (fortunately, Disney would never do anything
like that, right?). It also has gun-wielding enforcers like Mr. Fix-It on the payroll.
He makes the company’s embarrassing past disappear. In two months, early Boffo
cartoons will enter the public domain. That is not good for Pinnacle, but the
last surviving Biffo print could undermine their fundamental trademark of
Biffo.
Burrows’s
ex, now a late-night TCM-esque host, hopes to find the Biffo print, to parlay it
into a Pinnacle+ streaming show. Of course, she didn’t reveal her true ambitions
to Bellamy Barker, the rightful Biffo heir, but Burrows immediately suspects something
of the kind. As a result, it will be a mad scramble to find the lost reel and
it will be even trickier holding onto it.
The
vintage-style animation created by Neal and Erim “Xolo” Cetinel perfectly fuses
early Disney with classic Fleischer. Biffo and Boffo look era-appropriate and
they both have the appropriate pinched, high-pitched voices. The antique Boffo merch
also represents a triumph of great art direction on a budget. Furthermore,
filming on old school 16mm stock nicely reinforces Neal’s nostalgic aesthetic.
Its first IP deals were relatively modest, licensing British radio shows like Dick
Barton and The Man in Black for extremely B-level movie treatments. However,
it most famously relaunched popular franchises with the very same monsters that
made Universal the home for horror in the 1930s and 1940s. Despite periods of
decline and dormancy, the Hammer name still means something to fans. Director
Benjamin Field and an all-star cast of genre filmmakers chronicle the studio’s
history and celebrate its eccentricities in Hammer: Heroes, Legends and
Monsters (oddly, no Oxford comma), which releases today on BluRay from UK
specialty retailers.
Will
Hinds (who performed vaudeville under his stage name, Hammer) and Enriques
Carreras founded Hammer Film Productions, but they never really got filmmaking the
way their sons, Tony Hinds and Michael Carreras, did. For the record, most of
the oddball genre detours were Michael’s doing (fault). However, the elder
Carreras definitely understood business, negotiating better American deals than
were available for more prestigious British productions.
Hammer’s
big opportunity came in licensing a film version of The Quatermass Experiment,
which had been a surprise hit for the BBC. They were subsequently pitched a Frankenstein
screenplay that probably would have prompted a lawsuit from Universal, but
they liked the idea enough to commission The Curse of Frankenstein,
which was a huge hit, making stars of Peter Cushing and Chriostopher Lee. They
followed it up with Horror of Dracula, featuring the same co-stars,
garnering the same box office success.
Unlike
many cinema history docs, Heroes, Legends and Monsters focuses more on
the behind-the-scenes business trends and the contributions of below-the-line
contributors, like makeup artist Phil Leakey and art director Bernard Robinson,
who had a thrifty knack for reusing and repurposing old props and sets. Thanks
to Robinson, Hammer could really stretch their budget, while maintaining their
signature lush, gothic look.
Of
course, most of the great stars of Hammer, such as Cushing, Lee, Andre Morrell,
Shane Briant, and Oliver Reed are no longer with us. However, Martine Beswick (One
Million Years B.C.), Caroline Munro (Dracula AD 1972), and Madeline
Smith (The Vampire Lovers) discuss their work at Hammer (and the degree
of nudity that was expected of them, during the late period of decline).
Indeed,
the collected experts convincingly argue the turn towards cultural permissiveness
was Hammer’s undoing, because they had developed such a knack for arguing, negotiating,
and generally sneaking in suggestive material, which suddenly appeared tame
compared to the genuinely explicit releases from their competitors.
The
understanding of the economics of Hammer’s decisions helps differentiate Heroes,
Legends and Monsters from its many predecessors. It also features many
experts with serious genre cred, including John Carpenter, Tim Burton, John
Landis, and Joe Dante (the latter two seem to mostly work as documentary
talking heads these days, which is sort of a shame, but their enthusiasm for
Hammer sounds genuine).
Newspaper comic strips were like the MCU and The Fast and the Furious of the
1930s and the 1940s. They were hands down the most popular form of mass entertainment.
Unlike average contemporary Hollywood tentpoles, they were also refreshingly
patriotic. That was particularly true of some of the most successful continuity
strips, like Steve Canyon and Buz Sawyer. It was also true of
this strip, even though it was obscure in its day. Nevertheless, Bob Robertson
& Pat Sammon’s Wade Cabot in the Middle East deserves a reappraisal and
a new audience, especially on the date of its 5/11/1953 premiere.
Cabot
was a legendary OSS agent, but he returned to the Middle East after the War to
pursue his chosen career as an archaeologist. Given his elite background and
education, perhaps Robertson and Sammon should have named him Wade Cabot Lodge.
Regardless, he has square-jaw and will travel.
Indeed,
Cabot is very Indiana Jones like. In the first of his three full story arcs,
Cabot must prevent his nemesis, KGB Col. Baranov, from hijacking an excavation
site that happens to hold rich uranium deposits. In addition, Baranov also
hopes to plunder a rumored artifact that supposedly bestows great power. In all
honestly, Wade Cabot has been so long-forgotten, it is unlikely it
served as an inspiration for Raiders of the Lost Ark, but if you dig
vintage Dr. Jones you will be utterly delighted with Cabot.
Unlike
the last Indiana Jones movie, which made CIA officers the bad guys, Wade
Cabot and the U.S. military and intelligent services are always fighting
the good fight together. The villains are the Soviets and the various terrorist
factions doing their bidding. Cabot prefers to act independently and with
plausible deniability, but when his country calls, he always answers. That is
especially true when his former commanding officer retired Gen. Max “Gunner”
Crackin makes a request.
Similarly
acting as a pseudo-free agent, Crackin hatches a plan to rescue Dr. Fieldstone,
a leading expert in missile jamming technology, being held captive in an island
prison-laboratory in the Caspian. Unbeknownst to Cabot and Crackin, the good
doctor is a beautiful woman, with a gift for sarcasm, doing her best to annoy
her KGB prison matron, Kruda.
The
strip makes recurring jokes mocking the super-eligible Cabot for his romantic
incompetence. However, he risks a lot to save Zia, a terrorist double-agent,
who turns triple-agent under Cabot’s influence. The third story arc also
notably features two oilmen, one from Texas and one from England, not as
villains, but as Cabot’s primary allies. Honestly, this strip is like a breath
of fresh air.
Next
to nothing is known about the co-creators, who are assumed to be both co-writers
and co-artists. That would track, because some strips feature lighter thinner
lines, while others look heavier and darker. However, they clearly shared a
compatible visual sensibility.
It makes good economic sense for CBS and Paramount that Kayce Dutton and his fellow
SEALs served in Afghanistan rather than Iraq. That way the Rockies (or their
stand-ins) can also double for the Hindu Kush. This will be one of those
episodes. Dutton and fellow former SEAL Deputy Marshal Pete Calvin face a fight
for survival in the Montana mountains, but the frequent flashbacks take back to
their in-country active duty in “On Thin Ice,” tonight’s episode of Marshals
on CBS.
Skinner
and Cruz limited the damage of the Fugitive-style accident and jailbreak
in “Playing with Fire,” but a few still got away. One of them was Neil Lamb, a desperado
who once worked on the Dutton ranch for old man John Dutton (a.k.a. Kevin
Costner). That means he might know where some of their bodies are buried—literally.
The prospect sufficiently concerns Deputy Marshal Dutton that he leaves Garrett
Garvey’s hospital bedside, to catch the fugitive, off the clock.
It
all seems rather suspicious to his boss, Calvin when he finds the two together.
Unfortunately, Calvin is not at his best, for reasons regular viewers will
guess. A bit confused and insufficiently outfitted, Calvin is unable to find
his transportation, forcing them to arrange makeshift shelter. Of course, that
also allows Lamb an opportunity to play on Calvin’s suspicions.
SLEEPING DOG plays like it was made for UAP true believers, by true believers. Journalist-activist Jeremy Corbell's blue collar presence well serves the film, but it lacks the restraintt and perspective of more credible UAP docs. EPOCH TIMES review up here.
The United States made him an honorary citizen, after the Soviet Union made him
disappear. The Swedish diplomat in question had saved thousands of Hungarian
Jews by issuing them Swedish papers and providing shelter in diplomatically
protected buildings. He became one of the most prominent men in Hungary (thereby
making him a threat to the Soviets’ plans to dominate the nation). Decades
later, his fate remains shrouded in secrecy. Filmmakers Brian Mait & Brad
Rothschild largely settle that question, but as viewers might expect, it is not
an especially uplifting answer that they reveal in their documentary, Raoul
Wallenberg: Missing Inaction, which screens during this year’s JxJ Washington Jewish Film and Music Festival.
As
viewers ought to know from watching the Richard Chamberlain mini-series and
prior documentaries, like Alexander Rodnyaskiy’s The Mission of Raoul Wallenberg, the Swedish humanitarian tried to save as many Hungarian Jews
as possible. He even pulled dozens of Jews off a transport bound for Auschwitz,
openly defying the Arrow Cross.
The
part of the story that isn’t as well publicized involves the rest of the
Wallenberg family. Although Wallenberg was adored by his distinguished grandfather
Gustav, Wallenberg and his mother (who married into the family) were the poor
relations, after his father’s untimely death. His uncles, Jacob and Marcus, who
controlled the family banking empire, declined to hire their nephew. Instead,
they referred him to Klarman Lauer’s trading company.
Wallenberg
became Lauer’s right-hand man, because he could travel more easily than the Jewish
Hungarian. Similarly, he became the on-the-ground point-person for the humanitarian
mission to Hungary organized by Lauer and Iver C. Olsen of the OSS, who emerges
as another admirable figure in Mait & Rothschild’s doc.
However,
the activities of Wallenberg’s uncles were not so edifying. In fact, their extensive
dealings with the National Socialists earned them Treasury Department sanctions,
which continued after the War. Unable to do business with America, they started
brokering deals with the Soviets, the other great totalitarian regime of the 20th
Century. However, they cut ties with the USSR, in exchange for their removal from
the blacklist.
The
filmmakers and their on-camera experts suggest, with good reason, the noble
Wallenberg became a pawn in his uncles’ game with the Soviets. Once they
cancelled their financial arrangements, Raoul Wallenberg was probably as good
as dead. Regardless of their reasons, Wallenberg was most likely executed around
this time. That theory is supported, rather candidly, by Sergey Stepashin, the
former Russian Prime Minister and director of the FSB (then known as the FSK),
under Yeltsin—a sit-down interview even the filmmakers were shocked to score.
Unlike
previous Wallenberg films, Missing Inaction (not a great title) also documents
how much it emotionally exhausted his branch of the family to fight for the
truth. Tragically, some of those closest to him eventually committed suicide.
SILENT FRIEND invites viewers to meditate on what it means to be human, through a solitary reesearcher's relationship with plants (perhaps accidentally expressing the post-Covid, post-Hong Kong crackdown zeitgeist). Not all three of its intertwined stories are equally successful, but it still represents assured and refined filmmaking. CINEMA DAILY US review up here.
At this point, everyone should be extremely cautious when visiting Russia or China,
because they are hostile powers that employ hostage-taking as a tactic to
negotiate political and economic concessons. That caution should also apply to
layovers. Orna Levy and her daughter Gali learn that the hard way. They were
traveling from India to Israel, but Gali was arrested on dubious drug
trafficking charges during their Moscow connection. Orna Levy is neither a
lawyer or a diplomat, but she is a mother, so she fights tenaciously for her
daughter’s freedom in co-creators Adam Bizanski & Dana Idisis’s 8-episode
Israeli drama, Unconditional, which premieres today on Apple TV+.
Orna
assumes they would simply eat between flights and that would be all they would
see of Russia. Instead, the police swarm and arrest Gali, leaving her mother
confused and alarmed. The timing is terrible, because the Israeli embassy is
closed for a national holiday. Eventually, she learns the charges, but neither
Levy or her lawyer can speak to her daughter, because the cops keep
transferring her from prison to prison, like a game of three card monte.
Eventually,
Gali is “arraigned,” but with one whispered word from the prosecutor, the judge
denies bail with no explanation. Viewers had better take note at this point.
This could happen to any American traveling to Russia, if Putin and his lackeys
feel they need an extra bargaining chip.
Awkwardly,
Gali’s case turns out to be a little more complicated. As Levy conducts a media
campaign back home to pressure the Israeli government secure her daughter’s
release, she starts to pick up hints Gali might have been intertwined with some
sort of international intrigue. For starters, she had a bundle of strange
passports hidden in some of her possessions that her mother was carrying. Consequently,
Levy starts distrusting her own government, even including her sort of former
lover, Dori, a not-exactly former member of the Shin Bet.
Regardless,
Gali most likely wasn’t precisely the naïve girl her mother presumed. Indeed,
her parting advice to her mother—do no eat or drink anything—was quite sage. As
her Russian lawyer later explains, Putin’s cops often lace water provided
during interrogations with trace amounts of drugs, to produce false positives
to present in court.
The
early episodes of Unconditional are smart, nerve-wracking, and urgently timely
television. Unfortunately, the conclusion is fairly ridiculous and leaves major
national security questions unresolved—and not in a cliffhanger kind of way. The
writers clearly just didn’t consider it important.
Admittedly,
Bizanski & Idisis target fans of Not Without My Daughter rather than
Tom Clancy, but given the Russian and Israeli setting, they could have
anticipated a crossover techno-thriller market. To be fair, as previously stated,
there is a great deal of valid cautionary, ripped-from-true-life sequences.
Nevertheless,
the mother-daughter relationship is the engine driving the series and its
reason for being. Consequently, it is also a heck of a showcase for Liraz
Chamami, whose performance as Mother Levy is both magnificent and harrowing.
She is a ferocious mama bear and a poignant everywoman, misunderestimated (as
George W. Bush aptly says) at every turn.
Evgenia
Dodina is also wonderfully acerbic and flamboyantly sharklike as Rita, the
mysterious Israeli spymaster, who might possibly do more good than harm for
Levy. Yossi Marshek also deserves credit for his sensitively understated portrayal
of Benni, Levy’s husband suffering from acute early Alzheimer’s. Yes, when it
rains for Orna Levy, it pours.