Man Finds Tape: Found Footage in Texas

In Larkin, Texas, social life largely revolves around the church and the barbecue roadhouse. It is about as red as the meat proprietor Winston Boon serves up, but this film still invites sympathy for the community. Something sinister has been secretly preying on the town for years. A brother and sister struggle to expose the bizarre truth in Paul Gandersman & Peter S. Hall’s Man Finds Tape, which releases this Friday in theaters and on-demand.

Believe it or not, the director-screenwriters breathe new life into the found footage subgenre, precisely by embracing its limitations. Lucas Page is a notorious paranormal influencer, who built a massive following with the mysterious videos of his childhood an unknown someone reportedly delivered to him. The first allegedly depicts a shadowy figure standing over him while he innocently slept. Ominously, it clearly was not his parents.

Page would later admit he faked the subsequent tapes in hopes of drawing out the mysterious party. Consequently, his sister Lynn is skeptical when Lucas video-calls, asking her to watch more of his dubious footage. However, when he passes out mid-call, she reluctantly returns to Larkin, out of concern.

Having left town as a teenager, after the untimely deaths of their parents, Ms. Page seems immune to whatever plagues the locals. Clearly, it is not just her brother. Her former bestie (and Lucas’s on-again-off-again girlfriend) Wendy Parker willing goes on-the-record and on-camera to discusses her experiences. Boon also sits for a few interviews, but he is far less willing to face the creepy phenomenon. However, a strange outsider (conveniently referred to as “The Stranger”) obviously understands what is happening, but he clearly has not come to Larkin with altruistic motives.

Man Finds Tape works so well because it uses our disbelief against us, jujitsu-like. As the primary narrating voice, Lynn Page constantly expresses skepticism. Essentially, she even invites the audience to compare her ostensive film to presumed hoaxes, like the Patterson-Gimlin Big Foot tape. The horror itself is also initially hard to define. While it inspires fear and paranoia, it also takes on subtly Lovecraftian overtones.

Gandersman and Hall create a potent atmosphere of dread, which steadily escalates. Even though Rev. Endicott Carr is unambiguously implicated in the uncanny skullduggery afoot, Man Finds Tape still feels highly sympathetic to its small Texas setting.

Hell or High Water: Jeff Bridges, Texas Ranger

Everything is bigger in Texas, except their latest serial bank robbers. The Howard Brother bandits are definitely playing small ball, but with a purpose. They will only hit a particular bank with branches located exclusively in West Texas and they just take the loose bills in the teller drawers. As a result, the FBI has no time for them, leaving them to a Texas Ranger on the verge of retirement. Yet, that old bird dog is still enjoys the hunt in David Mackenzie’s Hell or High Water (trailer here), which opens today in New York.

Tanner Howard did not learn much responsibility when he was in prison. That was always his brother Toby’s department, but trying circumstances still managed to overwhelm the younger Howard sibling. He nursed their mother during the final days of her prolonged illness, while reeling from own divorce. Since he has little income to speak of, the bank is on the brink of foreclosing their predatory mortgage on the family ranch. That would be particularly unfortunate, since oil has been discovered on the property. You know: black gold, Texas Tea.

Essentially, the smarter Howard boy came up with the plan to pay off the bank by robbing its unmarked cash, laundering it through the local Native American casino, paying off the mortgage, and then putting the oil rich ranch into trust for his semi-estranged sons. However, time is running out and Tanner isn’t getting any more stable. Plus, grizzled old Marcus Hamilton, the Archie Bunker of the Texas Rangers, and his long-suffering Comanche-Mexican American partner Alberto Parker are on the case, so the last bank they need is likely to be a toughie.

Yes sir, this film is set in Texas and even though it was filmed in New Mexico, the British Mackenzie (known for Starred Up and the over-achieving science fiction fable Perfect Sense) gets the look, sounds, and attitude precisely right. Of course, he gets a massive assist from honorary Texan Jeff Bridges, who goes back to the Crazy Heart-True Grit well, chewing the scenery with laconic orneriness. Bridges is instantly credible in a part like this, yet it is almost shocking how broken down and decrepit he looks.

Chris Pine is fine as Toby Howard, but Ben Foster is a scene-stealing natural fit for the emotionally erratic Tanner. However, it is Gil Birmingham who really gives the film heart and integrity as the eternally patient Parker. He and Bridges are terrific playing off each other in scenes that often have an uncomfortably sharp edge.

Jeff Bridges’ salty hardnose persona might give HOHW the appearance a safe “greatest hits” style package, but Taylor Sheridan’s screenplay is surprisingly smart in nearly every respect. There is a good deal of wry humor in the film, but it also has tragic heft. Recommended for fans of Southwestern noirs in the Blood Simple tradition, Hell or High Water opens today (8/12) in New York, at the Loews Lincoln Square uptown and the Regal Union Square downtown.

The Coen Brothers’ Blood Simple

You know a film has lasting cultural significance when Zhang Yimou helms a Chinese remake (in this case, the wildly entertaining A Woman, a Gun, and a Noodle Shop, starring a seriously hard-nosed Sun Honglei). For some reason, the Coen Brothers’ debut film never really found a wide popular audience, but its acclaim made the Fargo and Big Lebowski phenomena possible (as well as the Best Picture-winning No Country for Old Men). The time is probably right for casual fans to catch up with the film that started them off, Blood Simple (trailer here), which re-releases in its 4K restored glory (courtesy of the Criterion Collection) this Friday at Film Forum.

As befitting a film that takes its title from bit of Dashiell Hammett dialogue, Blood Simple starts with some hardboiled narration from sleazy private detective Loren Visser. That is him in the VW Bug, tailing Abby Marty and Ray, the manager of her husband’s east Texas roadhouse. Technically, they were not yet having an affair, but instead of continuing to Houston, they impulsively check into a motel, providing Visser with the evidence her husband expects.

Julian Marty makes no secret of his contempt for Visser, but he still hires the ethically questionable P.I. to kill his wife and her paramour. This turns out to be a mistake in retrospect. Initially, Visser falsifies evidence of his contracted hit job, killing Marty instead, using his wife’s gun to frame her up. At least that was the plan. Things get super-complicated when Ray stumbles upon the crime scene. Several iconic scenes later, the illicit lovers openly distrust each other, unaware of Visser’s villainy.

Even in an age of iPhones and the like, Blood Simple still holds up remarkably well. The noir narrative twists have not dated and it looks as stylish as ever. At the time, some complainers thought the Coens and cinematographer Barry Sonnenfeld should have been filmed in black-and-white, but it simply would not have been the same film without Visser’s sickly yellow suit. It just screams bad news.

From today’s perspective, it is rather remarkable how much talent came together for this little upstart noir. M. Emmet Walsh was already something of a legend in 1984, but Blood Simple is the film that truly defines his career. As Ms. Marty, Frances McDormand, who married Joel Coen shortly after Simple wrapped, is more seductive and vulnerable than you would expect from Marge Gunderson, her Oscar-winning Fargo character. 

On the other hand, Dan Hedaya probably helped type-cast himself as ethnically ambiguous heavies with his work in Simple, but he really is terrific as Julian Marty. Frankly, John Getz probably deserved more attention for his understated but assured turn as Ray. Although he is not a household name, Tony-nominated playwright Samm-Art Williams adds considerable flair and energy as Marty’s bartender, Meurice. You can also briefly hear the then unknown Holly Hunter as the voice on his answering machine.

It is pretty crazy to imagine the Sundance press corps eagerly queueing up to get a look at the buzzy Blood Simple from the ultra-indie Coen Brothers (who even tapped their local suburban Minnesota branch of Hadassah for financial support), yet such was the case in 1984. Thirty-two years later, it remains a slickly effective thriller further distinguished by the Coens’ wickedly sly, darkly comic touches. Highly recommended, Blood Simple opens this Friday (7/1) in New York, at Film Forum.

The Town that Dreaded Sundown—Still Not Loving the Moonlight

Texarkana is hard to figure. Is it Texas or Arkansas? One town of two? Either way, you would think it was far too heavily armed to have a serial killer problem. Nevertheless, the “Phantom Killer” really did terrorize Texarkana for several months in 1946. There must have been a post-war shortage of ammunition. Eventually, the murders stopped, but strictly speaking, the case was never solved. In 1976, the so-called “Moonlight Murders” were rather controversially dramatized in Charles B. Pierce’s cult favorite slasher movie. The fascination and the killings continue in Alfonso Gomez-Rejon’s meta-homage pseudo-sequel (don’t call it a reboot) The Town that Dreaded Sundown (trailer here), a Blumhouse production, which releases today on regular DVD.

So maybe the killer is still walking the streets of Texarkana. If so, what would he make of the burg’s annual Halloween drive-in screening of Pierce’s original Town that Dreaded Sunrise? Apparently, he rather resents it, judging from comments made to Jami Lerner and Corey Holland when he viciously attacks them during a moment of parked privacy. Holland quickly exits the picture, but the Phantom lets Lerner live in order to torment her like a cat with a mouse.

The killer quickly starts working his way through the murders in the 1976 film. However, Lerner is convinced she also must look to the archival case files from 1946 to discover the identity of the current murder. Of course, the local cops on both the Texas and Arkansas sides are clueless, but at least Texas Ranger Lone Wolf Morales inspires some confidence, just like Ben Johnson’s J.D. Morales, who was molded after the historical M.T. “Lone Wolf” Gonzaullas.

There are times when the 2014 Town is surprisingly clever in the ways it engages with both the previous film and the real life Moonlight Murders. Unfortunately, a lot of good set-up is essentially wasted on a third act revelation that feels like no big deal. We are primed for something uber-meta, but get watered-down Scream elements instead.

Still, there is a vivid sense of place (much of the film was shot in Louisiana, but that’s close enough). Gomez-Rejon is often quite visually inventive in his approach to the material and cinematography Michael Goi gives is all a dark glow that is eerie and somewhat Carpenter-esque. There is also plenty of fan service for Pierce partisans, including a trombone murder. Indeed, the film is often quite brutal, matching the tone set by its predecessor, so sensitive viewers should be warned.

Perhaps due to producer Ryan “American Horror Story” Murphy’s involvement, the new Town features an unusually accomplished cast for a slasher flick. Frankly, it is a pity Anthony Anderson does not have more screen time, because he is a drolly entertaining as the flamboyant Morales. In one of his final screen appearances, the late great Ed Lauter is also frustratingly under-employed as Sheriff Underwood. Addison Timlin is perfectly fine as Lerner, but it is not exactly a deep, empowering role. However, Denis O’Hare undeniably steals his scenes as the meta Charles Pierce, Jr.

It is easy to see why Pierce’s film freaked people out in 1976. It came out when many residents still recalled the Moonlight Murders and it predated the masked Jason in the Friday the 13^th franchise by over three years. Pierce’s hooded Phantom might have also had further historical resonance for viewers, especially in Texas and Arkansas. Gomez-Rejon’s take starts out quite creepily, but it deflates late in the third act. (Still, it is a good deal more uplifting than his latest film: Me, Earl, and the Dying Girl. Oh, the horror. Oh, the humanity.) Recommended for hardcore slasher fans and Pierce loyalists, The Town that Dreaded Sundown releases today (7/7) on regular DVD.

Echoes of War: Texas Feuding

It was called Reconstruction, implying rebuilding and renewal, but there was still considerable violence during the years following the Civil War. The Rileys will learn this first hand. They are not Radical Republicans facing the wrath of the Ku Klux Klan. They will simply get caught up in an old school family feud. Unfortunately, the war made killing is immeasurably easier in Kane Senes’s Echoes of War (trailer here), which opens tomorrow in New York.

The war has been over for a while, but Uncle Wade is only now making his way home to Texas. He clearly saw considerable action and it changed him. The Riley family had their share of tragedy on the homefront as well. His sister Elizabeth passed away, leaving his devout brother-in-law Seamus Riley to raise their nearly grown daughter Abigail and teenage son Samuel.

The kids love their uncle, but Riley is far less embracing. They seem to have history, but Uncle Wade has history with everyone. He soon discovers the formerly well-to-do McCluskey family has been raiding Riley’s traps with impugnity, barely leaving enough for the family to live on. The father is a turn-the-other-cheek fellow, who also remains mindful of the complicated relations between the respective families. In contrast, their thievery does not sit well with Uncle Wade, so he aims to fix it. Of course, this all complicates Abigail’s Capulet-and-Montague romance with the earnest but ineffectual Marcus McCluskey.

Eventually, Senes will get down to score-settling, but he is clearly more interested in exploring Uncle Wade’s post-traumatic stress and young McCluskey’s halting courtship of Abigail. Arguably, the chaotic in media res opener is not the way to commence a moody film like Echoes. It is an impressively textured film, with a good eye for period detail and natural backdrops. However, the tragic inevitability of the narrative could also be uncharitably described as predictable. Just imagine the worst that could happen and it probably will.

Regardless, an awful lot of people will eventually see Echoes on VOD or cable, because Maika Monroe is about ten seconds away from being the next Jennifer Lawrence. (Honestly, has JLaw done anything as cool as It Follows?) She is quite good as Abigail Riley, but her characters stays well within the conventional parameters for a daughter of the old west.

On the other hand, Ethan Embry is nearly unrecognizable, in every way, as the tortured Seamus Riley. His Old Time religion could have easily become the stuff of cliché and even mockery, but Embry uses it to bring out his humanity. It is a great performance, but also James Badge Dale proves he has the chops and presence to lead a film as the tightly wound Uncle Wade. As usual, William Forsythe does his thing as the overbearing McCluskey patriarch, but it is hard to see why Miss Abigail would entertain the advances of Rhys Wakefield’s lifeless junior McCluskey brother.

To its credit, Echoes is a handsome period production. At times, you can smell the honeysuckle and feel the hot dry Texas air. Senes helms with notable sensitivity, but the story of the shell-shocked veteran having trouble coming to grips with life after war started yielding declining marginal returns years ago. Recommended for western-Americana viewers looking for a streaming distraction, Echoes of War releases tomorrow (5/15) on iTunes and opens in New York at the AMC Loews Village 7.

Bad Turn Worse: Texas Noir

Looking for work? You might consider moving to Texas. The state unemployment rate is a full point lower than New York and a cotton mill in the middle of scrub-grass nowhere is about to have a number of vacancies. It also happens to launder dirty money. Would that be a problem? It will be for the earnest but not too bright Bobby. He and his friends will be forced to waylay the next big cash delivery on behalf of their unscrupulous boss. Expect a double-cross or two in Simon & Zekie Hawkins’ Bad Turn Worse (a.k.a. We Gotta Get Out of this Place, trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Bobby is not as smart as his best frienemy B.J.’s girlfriend Sue, but they will both soon go off to college, leaving him and the town behind. For a last hurrah, B.J. boosts twenty grand from their boss Giff’s safe for a celebratory weekend in Corpus Christi. They have a wild time, in an awkward kind of way, but will have to pay for it when they return.

Although Bobby and Sue were not involved in the original theft, they are still on the hook with Giff. Technically, it was not his money B.J. pilfered. It belonged to Giff’s boss, Big Red. Rather than restitution, Giff demands a repeat performance on his behalf, but at a time when a major cash shipment will come through. Being the nice guy idiot he is, Bobby needs a bit of convincing, but Giff will pressure him at his weakest point: Sue. Of course, if Bobby knew of their feelings for each other, it would really lead to trouble.

Frankly, if Sue is so smart and reads so many crime novels (particularly Jim Thompson, whom the film name-checks in an early scene), you have to wonder what she is doing with a conspicuous heap of trouble like B.J. Still, if you can suspend disbelief that far, BTW is a pretty lean and mean little thriller. It has a humid sense of place, a few effective twists, and most importantly a terrific primary villain.

There is no question Mark Pellegrino steals the film out-right as the serpentine Giff. However, John Gries and William Devane also score in brief appearances as the corrupt Sheriff Shep and the dreaded Big Red, respectively.  This is the sort of film where the antagonists have the protagonists completely outclassed and over-matched, but that is not such a bad thing in film noir, or more specifically Texas Noir. Poor Jeremy Allen White’s Bobby and Logan Huffman’s B.J. are just buried in the East Texas dust, but at least Mackenzie Davis manages to hold up her end.

BTW asks for trouble by invoking Thompson, because it never quite rises to his level of hot-in-the-shade skullduggery. Nonetheless, it is considerably superior to most recent forays into Texas noir, like the wildly uneven Rushlights. Recommended for fans of dark, sweaty thrillers, Bad Turn Worse opens this Friday (11/14) in New York at the Village East.

Based on True Crimes: Texas Killing Fields

They like their justice swift in the Lone Star State (and God bless them for it), but it will take a transplanted New York cop to break open a heinous serial killer case. Inspired by the gruesome history of the marshland outside Texas City, TX, a notorious dumping ground for corpses, a somewhat fictionalized pair of lawmen show their grit, warts-and-all, in Ami Canaan Mann’s Texas Killing Fields (trailer here), which opens today in New York.

Nobody wants to face up to what goes on in that swamp, least of all the Texas City police officers charged with investigated it. However, Brian Heigh is new around these parts. Out of a reasonable sense of duty, he agrees to help Pam Stall, a cop from a neighboring jurisdiction, investigate a series of disappearances linked to the marsh.

His tightly wound partner Mike Souder advises against getting pulled into an open-ended morass. It also hardly helps that Stall is his ex. Heigh and Souder have very different approaches to their job, but eventually they get on the same page. Unfortunately, by that point time is running out for the latest abductee, whom the cops have a particularly personal interest in.

Frankly, the procedural element to Fields is fairly standard stuff. A bit messy, the screenplay leaves a major side-plot largely unresolved. However, the two leads really deliver the goods. Indeed, based on his work here and in The Debt, it is time to forget the big awful blockbusters like Avatar and become a believer in Sam Worthington. He is fantastic as Souder, viscerally intense and unpredictable as a live wire. While he plays the easy-going understated cop (isn’t that usually a Southern thing?), Jeffrey Dean Morgan is genuinely compelling as the slow-burning Heigh. Though largely underutilized, at least Jessica Chastain’s Stall has a cool interrogation scene (that not surprisingly has been released as a teaser).

Mann (yes, the daughter of Fields producer Michael Mann) nicely exploits the lonesome Texas backdrop and cranks up the tension down the stretch like an old pro. Yet, one thing that really distinguishes the film is its sympathetic portrayal of Heigh’s Catholicism. As the body count mounts, he has something of a crisis of faith, but not in a way that leads him to question his beliefs. Rather, he struggles to find his proper path amid the chaos or what his wife suggests might be his calling. Not only does this humanize Heigh, it provides some light in a very dark film. 

Nobody will mistake Fields for a buddy-cop movie, but Worthington and Morgan are compulsively watchable as they dispense some justice. Recommended rather enthusiastically for those who want strong character studies in their crime dramas, Fields opens this Friday (10/14) in New York at the IFC Center.