The Knights of the Damned: Those Damn Knights

Across feudal cultures, the peasantry had one safeguard hard-wired into the collective unconscious: the notion that famine and disasters were a sign the monarch had lost their divine sanction to rule. You could be a horrible dictator, but you had to keep the serfs fed. It is therefore hard to believe a usurping prince would ever risk unleashing both a dragon rampage and a zombie apocalypse, simultaneously. Yet, that is exactly what the rightful king’s good-for-nothing son does in Simon Wells’ Knights of the Damned (trailer here), which releases today on DVD.

They were once part of a large war party, but now only four of the king’s knights still pursue the dragon as it wreaks destruction across the realm. Make that three knights. Killing dragons is onerous work, but it is generally expected of knights. Facing zombie hordes is something else entirely. They are going to need some stronger mead.

At first, they are skeptical of reports of the so-called “furies.” They really just what recharge at an inn before chasing after that blasted dragon again. It is there they meet a band of warrior women from the Katori Kingdom on a mission of vengeance, which they respect. The knights are not about to mess with them, unless they’re also interested in messing around a little. As a result, they will have a few battle-tested allies to fight the dragon, the zombies, and the usurper (but alas, Kunjue Li’s Kateya dies way too soon).

Knights might sound like sheer lunacy, but it is probably the cheapest looking, most meatheaded genre film that still manages to be fractionally watchable since Indo-porn star Priya Rai played a mummy in Isis Rising. Prince Favian’s evil scheming does not make an iota of sense, even if he is a member of a satanic death cult, as the epilogue suggests. Nor does it remotely believable the good Princess Elizabeth would openly take a gritty knight like Sir George as her lover, especially when her father had anointed her his rightful successor. Plus, it boggles the mind the knights who survive go through the entire film without figuring out they should maybe aim for the furies’ heads.

Nevertheless, you have to give Ben Loyd-Holmes (the bald one) and Ross O’Hennessy (the bearded one) credit, because they both totally look like fierce medieval warriors. They also have some screen presence as well as hack-and-slash cred. You could cast either of them in an Expendables movie with confidence.

The idea of the Katori warriors and the more-or-less equal time they get kicking fury-butt is also pretty cool. That is definitely our kind of progressive filmmaking. Unfortunately, the movie itself looks like it was produced with sets and props discarded by A Knight’s Tale and discovered in a local landfill. Yet, in all honesty, we would be tempted to cover the sequel as well, which is explicitly promised in that same nutty epilogue. Only recommended for micro-budget B-movie connoisseurs, Knights of the Damned releases today on DVD and BluRay.

The Sandman: From the Executive Producer of Black Panther

Stan Lee is the king of executive producers. Just look at his imdb credits. He is listed as an executive producer on every Marvel production, plus several other superhero franchises he has helped shepherd along. Awkwardly, he has also lent his name to a few Syfy original movies. Remember Harpies, with Stephen Baldwin? You also probably missed this TV horror flick that coincidentally happens to share a title with one of rival DC’s cult favorites. Try not to fall asleep during Peter Sullivan’s The Sandman (trailer here), which releases today on DVD.

As a burlesque photographer, Claire Blake is not great parent material, but she is all her niece Madison has left when her brother Colton dies under mysterious circumstances. It turns out the late Blake was the prime suspect in a string of murders, but we know from the prologue it was really the Sandman. Apparently, it has some sort of connection to Madison, but the cops and social workers just assume she is the traumatized child of a serial killer, even though the murders continue after Colton’s death, but whatever.

Eventually, Claire will start to figure out Madison is connected to something very dangerous. The shadowy government operative Valentine might be way ahead of her. In contrast, Wyatt, her formerly cool boyfriend-turned-jerkweed lags way behind the beat. Yet, there might be hope if Claire can get Madison to child psychologist Kellyanne Conway for some emergency head-shrinking.

It is always frustrating when a horror movie is too lazy to abide by its own rules. Does Madison have to be asleep for the Sandman to manifest itself or not. Decide yes or no—and then stick with it. Wyatt’s complete personality one-eighty is also problematic. Of course, the boring central characters do not help either. Probably the most interesting figure in the entire film is Amanda Wyss as the good doctor. Frankly, Tobin Bell from the Saw franchise is criminally wasted as Valentine. Still, it should be conceded, Richard Gleason came to play as the arrogant Dr. Cushing (a hat tip to Peter?).

Ironically, the one area where Sandman exceeds expectations are the monster effects, but that is where we are most inclined to be forgiving. Nevertheless, the sandy bogeyman is surprisingly impressive. It looks ominous, but there is no personality to go with it. The people do not have much personality either. Haylie Duff gives a semi-functional performance as Claire, but she definitely wasn’t straining herself for this part.

Somehow Sandman manages to be both predictable and illogical. The tech team should feel confident putting it on their resume, but most of the cast and Stan Lee (who has probably never seen it) would prefer to forget it. Not recommended, The Sandman is now available on DVD.

NYICFF ’18: Horus, Prince of the Sun

He is a young man of destiny, who will reclaim his legacy with the help of a sword that he dislodged from stone. These might sound like familiar fantasy tropes, but the Norse/Slavic flavor and Ainu inspiration would still make it rather distinctive. However, the adventure of Hols takes on enormous historical significance, because it represents the first feature length work of revered animator Hayao Miyazaki and his legendary collaborator Isao Takahata. It is a forerunner to so many beloved Studio Ghibli masterworks, but there is also plenty of ripping good adventure to enjoy in Takahata’s Horus, Prince of the Sun, which celebrates its fiftieth anniversary with screenings during the 2018 New York International Children’s Film Festival.

Hols (or Horus or whatever) is young, but he has a bold spirit that impresses Rockoar, the unfortunately named stone giant (say it to yourself a couple times), especially after the lad manages to pull the legendary Sword of the Sun out of the giant’s shoulder. In fact, the giant prophesies greatness for the boy, but first he must re-forge the sword. He will also have to endure trials and tribulations, starting with the death of his father.

With his dying breathe, the old man urges him to find and rebuild their ancestral village up north that was destroyed by Grunwald, a wintery demonic figure. Recognizing a fantasy hero when he sees one, Grunwald first tries to coopt Hols and then leaves him for dead. He is unsuccessful at both. Soon thereafter, Hols saves a communal fishing village from a number of beastly threats. However, Grunwald will have more success when his siren-voiced little sister infiltrates the village, with Hols’ oblivious help, to insidiously undermine his position.

As a work of cinema analyzed from a strictly formalistic perspective, Horus is a well-paced fantasy, whose primary characters, Hols and Hilda, are quite psychologically sophisticated. There is plenty of action, including the motion-comic effect (panning and scanning over panoramic still tableaux) Takahata effectively uses to render the big battle scenes. Although it is not as visually rich as the work Miyazaki would do at Ghibli, there are still plenty cool images, most definitely including Rockoar.

However, to fully appreciate Horus, imagine seeing it when it was originally released in 1968. As a genre, fantasy was basically Tolkien novels and Hercules movies. Sword of Shannara had not been published yet. The first edition of Dungeons & Dragons had not yet been released. No Wheel of Time, no Game of Thrones, no Stormlight Archive. Nor had anime made much penetration into the western market yet, with the syndication of thin-edges-of-the-wedge Star Blazers and Battle of the Planets years away. It terms of what it was and what it led to, Horus is arguably an under-heralded milestone.

By the way, it is also fun. It zips along, but there are also some real emotional stakes. If you really want to go there, there are even parallels that could be drawn between Hols, Hilda, and Grunwald, with Luke, Leia, and Anakin Skywalker, but to really do it justice requires spoilery analysis of various lines, in various translations. (Nevertheless, it is exactly the sort of film Lucas would have inhaled in his film student days, so who knows?) The important thing is it holds up heroically. Highly recommended for any anime fan, Horus, Prince of the Sun screens again this Saturday (3/10) and Sunday (3/11) as part of the New York International Children’s Film Festival.

Rendez-Vous ’18: The Lion Sleeps Tonight

Jean-Pierre Léaud is probably the most recognizable French actor—maybe ever—thanks to his performances in classic Truffaut and Goddard films, as well as The Last Tango in Paris, which people keep watching assuming it will be something it isn’t. This time around, he follows in John Malkovich’s footsteps playing a meta version of himself, who plays a meta version of himself in an amateur film produced by a group of school children on vacation. They do not recognize old “Jean,” but the creaky house he is staying in certainly looks haunted to them, because it really is haunted by his former lover in Nobuhiro Suwa’s The Lion Sleeps Tonight (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 Rendez-Vous with French Cinema.

Léaud was supposed to be reuniting with a celebrated co-star, but her diva behavior put the production on hold. Frankly, that is fine by him. He had been struggling with an upcoming scene would have forced him to confront his mortality. However, he will do exactly that, in a more oblique way when he takes advantage of the hiatus to visit the mothballed home of a deceased lover, Juliette de Garron. It is not clear whether it was an accident or suicide, but either way, the net result was her premature death in the early 1970s. Yet Jean finds that she has been waiting for him in that house, all that time.

In a twist of fate, a group of local children had been drawn to the house as the setting for their scrappy haunted house film. At first, Jean scares them away, but he welcomes them in soon thereafter. They rather amuse him and their youth is a healthy influence for someone regularly conversing with the dead.

If Olivier Assayas’s Personal Shopper had been reconceived as a children’s film halfway through production, it might have a vibe similar to Lion Sleeps Tonight. There really are not any scary moments in the film, but the scenes in which Jean faces de Garron’s ghost have a breathlessness that is quite arresting.

Frankly, Suwa struggles to marry up the evocative stillness of the haunted passages with the spirited interactions with the Goonie-style children. It is a bit frustrating, because they both have their merits. The one constant is a world-weary but still rather game Léaud. He is definitely a good sport and he has moments that would do his old mentor Truffaut proud. Many of those come opposite the ethereal-looking and altogether extraordinary Pauline Etinene, as the ghostly de Garron.

Lion Sleeps Tonight is an uneven film, particularly in terms of tonal shifts, but it is just too interesting to miss. It will be impossible to survey his storied career without substantially analyzing this film. Cinematographer Tom Harari makes it one of the sunniest ghost movies ever, but he nicely differentiates the twilight meetings shared by Jean and de Garron. Recommended for patrons of French cinema, who will appreciate Léaud’s legacy, The Lion Sleeps Tonight screens this Friday (3/9) and the following Thursday (3/15), as part of French Rendez-Vous ’18, at the Walter Reade.

Hong Sang-soo’s Claire’s Camera

It is a film about random café encounters in Cannes, partly made possible by a random café encounter in Cannes. Architect Shahira Fahmy happened to tell Hong Sang-soo about her acting ambitions when they struck up a conversation in a café during the Cannes Film Festival. A few hours later, she was shooting a scene with Isabelle Huppert. It wasn’t a hugely consequential scene, but it is still a good start. It is also very Hong Sang-soo. Indeed, a chance encounter of that nature would not be out of place in the film in question, Hong’s Claire’s Camera (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Camera could be considered the third film in the awkward trilogy of films helmed by Hong and starring Kim Min-hee, addressing unfaithfulness and released after news of their affair went public. This is the best of the three. The explicit reference to Eric Rohmer (director of Claire’s Knee) is no accident. Camera is very Rohmeresque. His characters wander incessantly, but this is a Hong film, so they also drink, especially, So Hansoo, the Hong-esque director.

Jeon Manhee is about to be fired by her boss, producer-sales agent Nam Yanghye, soon after their arrival in Cannes, because she ill-advisedly let So sleep with her. So isn’t just talent they are handling. He is also Nam’s lover—or at least he was. He intends to break it off once their French guest at lunch takes her leave. That would be Claire, a charming music teacher, who also writes poetry and compulsively takes pictures. She came down from Paris for the premiere of her friend’s film (played by Fahmy), but while strolling through town, she makes the chance acquaintances of both Jeon and So, who are quite struck by the coincidence when they see the photographic evidence of Claire’s encounters.

At a mere sixty-nine minutes, Camera feels light and brief, but there are some heady themes lurking under the surface and some heavy emotions bubbling over. While there is little of Hong’s previous narrative gamesmanship, he rather subtly and slyly proves Claire’s vaguely postmodern contention that the act of taking someone’s picture changes them. This is definitely true in the case of Jeon and So.

Claire is a nice change of pace for Huppert (reuniting with Hong after In Another Country), but she still commands the screen utterly and completely. After watching Camera, everyone should be convinced it would be great fun to café-hop your way across Cannes with her. Kim’s work as Jeon is just as sensitively rendered as her award-winning performance in On the Beach at Night Alone, but she also shows a bit of goofy humor that is wonderfully sweet and endearing. Jung Jin-young’s So is basically an amalgamation of every unpleasant Hong Sang-soo cliché, but Chang Mi-hee is surprisingly human and vulnerable as the ragingly insecure Nam. Plus, there is a big gray dog who steals several scenes, even though he literally sleeps through them.

Claire’s Camera is vintage Hong and a lovely showcase for Huppert and Kim. It just captures that indescribable late-night vibe. Surely, Rohmer would have approved. Very highly recommended, Claire’s Camera opens this Friday (3/9) in New York, at the Film Society of Lincoln Center.

NYICFF ’18: Liyana

Freedom House unequivocally designates Swaziland as politically “Not Free.” Similarly, it ranks “Mostly Unfree” on the Heritage Foundation’s Index of Economic Liberty. Not coincidentally, the nation also boasts the world’s highest rate of AIDS contraction. Obviously, the leaders (mostly appointed by the last reigning absolute monarch in Africa) do not care about the citizenry, but individuals can still make a difference, like the hands-on proprietor/social worker/surrogate family members of the Likhaya Lemphilo Lensha orphanage, whose residents will tell a partly fantastically and partly heartbreakingly realistic story in Aaron & Amanda Kopp’s Liyana, which screens during the 2018 New York International Children’s Film Festival.

The orphanage clearly follows in the progressive tradition of Hull House. It provides a safe haven for children, but it also offers cultural programming, such as South African storyteller Gcina Mhlophe’s workshop, whose young participants will tell the tale, with her prompting.

They are mostly boys, but their protag will be a girl, Liyana. Like them, she dealt with an abusive home life, before her despicable father succumbed to AIDS. After the subsequent death of her long-suffering mother, Liyana and her younger twin brothers are sent to live with their grandmother. Inevitably, the tragedies continue when the twins are kidnapped by human traffickers. However, the resilient Liyana sets out to rescue them, with only the family bull for company and back-up.

Indeed, trafficking and slavery is a very real threat to children throughout “developing” nations—Swaziland happens to rank 17 out of 167 on the Global Slavery Index. The Kopps and co-editor-producer Davis Coombe largely downplay the dangers that entails (mostly likely forced labor, but sexual slavery is not impossible), presumably anticipating a good deal of their audience would be young children. However, there are some distressingly vivid descriptions of domestic abuse, both within the story and from the storytellers.

In many ways, Liyana follows the template of the traditional quest fantasy. It also has a somewhat fantastical beast, but the real monsters are allegedly human. Of course, Liyana’s bull is much more expressive and cooperative than what you will typically find in a stock show. In fact, he is so cinematic, he will make many young viewers wish his scenes had been fully animated. Instead, the Kopps and artist Shofela Coker take an approach not unlike motion comics, but presumably the intent is to approximate the story-time experience of hearing the tale and then being shown the next picture. It works well enough, but some of the more dramatic passages would probably be better served with full animation (sure, that would cost more, but Abigail Disney is on board as co-executive producer).

It is nice to see these kids controlling their own story for a change. They deserve a freer, more transparent democratic capitalistic system rather than the corrupt authoritarian monarchy they now live under. The film is mostly nonpolitical, but it definitely raises questions why things are as they are. Recommended for families and NGOs, Liyana screens again next Sunday (3/11) at the New York International Children’s Film Festival and also screens Saturday (3/10) and the following Wednesday (3/14) at the AFI’s New Africa Film Festival.

NYICFF ’18: Zoo

The Republic of Ireland was neutral during WWII, but since it is part of the United Kingdom, Northern Ireland very definitely fought and sacrificed in the struggle against Axis tyranny. In fct, they paid a fearsome price during the Belfast Blitz. Compounding the tragedy, the civil defense authorities determined the Belfast Zoo’s predatory animals had to be euthanized, lest they be released into the streets by errant bombs. However, the son of a conscripted zoo veterinarian hatches a scheme to save its prized elephant in Colin McIvor’s Zoo (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 New York International Children’s Film Festival.

In many ways, the based (pretty faithfully) on a true story Zoo shames us for our hip, postmodern cynicism, starting right from the beginning, when Buster the pachyderm’s arrival procession through the streets of Belfast captures the city’s imagination (in a marvelously directed sequence). Alas, their enthusiasm will be quickly dampened by the Blitz. When his father is called up, Tom Hall loses his free access to the zoo, but he is still willing to pay. Unfortunately, there will be little left to see, when the staff starts putting the animals down.

Although Buster has a temporary reprieve, it is only a matter of time before his number comes up. Refusing to accept fate, Hall forges an alliance with Jane Berry, a quirky girl he sort of has a crush for, and Pete. the lunky but not so bad mate of the school bully. He definitely has a crush on Berry. They actually manage to pull off the elephant heist (thanks to the grouchy guard Charlie looking the other way), but they will need the help of widowed Denise Austin to shelter Buster.

Everyone considered Austin the neighborhood’s crazy cat lady, but there is more to her than that. Yet, McIvor is never heavy-handed when it comes to teaching moments. That said, there is a moment of heart-breaking tragedy that comes as a complete shock in a film with this many kids and animals. Nevertheless, you have to give him credit depicting the true nature of war—it’s absolutely no fun whatsoever.

Penelope Wilton (Cousin Matthew’s mother in Downton Abbey) is tremendous as Ms. Austin, taking small telling moments and just destroying us with them. Toby Jones is probably the biggest name attached to the film, but he also overachieves, wringing all kinds of poignant dignity out of the potentially cliched role of Charlie the zoo guard. The primary trio of youngsters, Art Parkinson, Emily Flain, and Ian O’Reilly are all impressively expressive and disciplined (frankly, Hall can be a bit of a doormat at times, but that is more of a problem with the script than Parkinson’s portrayal). Yet, it is Amy Huberman who quietly lowers the boom on viewers, as Hall’s mother Emily, an understandably overworked nurse.

There is a lot of honest, hard-earned emotion in Zoo. It probably skews younger due to the youthful main characters and their mostly innocent points-of-view, but it is as well-crafted as any Anglo-Irish period drama from the last ten years or so. This is a great year for live action films at NYICFF that adults can engage with just as much as kids, because Emelie Lindblom’s shockingly scary but wholly satisfying Room 213 is also on the slate. Very highly recommended, Zoo screens tomorrow (3/4) and Saturday (3/17) as part of NYICFF ’18.

NYICFF ’18: Musical Shorts—Jazzoo, Tintico’s Afternoons, Flip the Record

Ears of all ages can appreciate good jazz. In fact, there is an under-the-radar tradition of jazz children’s music going back decades. The late, great Phil Woods released a CD inspired by A.A. Milne in 2009. More awkwardly, Horace Silver released his Guide to Growing Up, with voice-overs by Bill Cosby back in the early 1980s. Of course, the classic examples would be Raymond Scott’s repurposed cartoon soundtracks. The Swedish jazz combo Oddjob followed in this tradition with their EP Jazzoo, which they have now adapted as an animated short film with director Adam Marko Nord. Jazzoo is one of three tremendously entertaining music-themed short films screening at the 2018 New York International Children’s Film Festival.

Jazzoo screens as part of the Shorts for Tots program, but any adult who doesn’t start tapping their toes to Oddjob's groovy, up-tempo tunes is a total weirdo as far as we’re concerned. They will introduce us to a heaving, hot hippo who seeks some cooling relief with the help of one hardy little birdy. After that, a resourceful orange fish successfully plays a game of cat-and-mouse with a shark. A little koala cub figures out how he can bounce along with a kanga’s roo and then a gaggle of elephants party and get-down, to the annoyance of the wet blanket monkeys. It all goes zipping along, thanks to the colorful animation and Oddjob’s propulsive music, especially the crisply swinging muted trumpet of Goran Kajfes.

Similarly. there is no dialogue in Alejandro García Caballero’s Tintico’s Afternoons, but the music says plenty. A retired rumba-mambo bandleader still has the trumpet chops to accompany his old 78s, much to the delight of a mosquito combo, who play right along with him. However, when his old Victrola conks out, his spirit goes with it. Somehow, the ‘squitoes will have to find away to restart the music, which sounds fabulous. Old masters like Machito and Tito Rodriguez would surely approve of Daniel Hidalgo’s soundtrack. As an added bonus, the animation is also quite elegant and sophisticated.

In contrast, there is plenty of talking in Marie Jamora’s Flip the Record (trailer here), but the real communication will be done with turntables. Hip hop and turntablism was new and fresh in the 1980s and Vanessa is an early adopter. The music hits her on a deep level, but her DJing older brother just sees her as his annoying kid sister, whereas she sees herself as DJ Vandal.

Courtney Bandeko already has a number of credits on her resume—and it is easy to tell why from her performance as Vanessa/Vandal. She just radiates charisma and star power, but she looks believable behind the turntables, as well. Bandeko is terrific, but Jamora also includes some appealing eighties nostalgia (remember when watching Love Boat and Fantasy Island was the thing to do on a Friday night? Vaguely?), while incorporating colorful but loving scenes of life of in a conservative Catholic Filipino-American family. The passion for vinyl will do your heart good if you’ve ever done any crate-digging, but parents should be cautioned, there are one or two swear words, because this is hip hop after all.

Jazzoo, Tintico’s Afternoons, and Flip the Record would flow really well if they were programed together, but NYICFF has them split up in different (but logical) thematic blocks. All very highly recommended, Jazzo screens as part of Shorts for Tots on 3/3, 3/4, 3/10, and twice on 3/11; Tintico’s Afternoons screens as part of Friends & Neighbors: Mexico on 3/10 and 3/18; and Flip the Record screens as part of Girls’ POV on 3/4, 3/10, 3/11, and 3/17.

Maiku Hama at Spectacle: The Most Terrible Time in My Life

Stacy Keach probably has the most screen-time playing Mickey Spillane’s Mike Hammer (with several TV movies and two or three TV Series to his credit, depending on how you count the long hiatus resulting from his drug conviction), but Masatoshi Nagase was a close second. Technically, he portrayed Maiku Hama, but it is basically the same difference. He starred as Hama/Hammer in an original hard-boiled trilogy, as well as a later sequel and subsequent 12-episode television series. Nagase’s Hammer-time started in Kaizo Hayashi’s The Most Terrible Time in My Life, which screens as part of the Maiku Hama retrospective, now underway at the Spectacle Theater.

Hama is such a noir guy, his office is in the projection room of fleabag revival cinema. In addition to his daily fee and expenses, prospective clients have to pay 1,000 yen just to get past the velvet rope. He is not as violent and swaggering as Spillane’s gumshoe, but he is extraordinarily hard-headed. When he takes a case, he will see it through. Unfortunately, when he agrees to find the long-lost brother of a Taiwanese migrant worker, Hama finds himself on a good-intention-paved path to Hell.

It turns out the missing brother is mobbed up with the Yakuza. That means his search draws the unwelcome attention of the cops, whom the Japanese Hama does not get on with nearly as well as his American counterpart. He will take many beatings during this case and even have a finger severed early in the first act. Don’t worry, they will be able to re-attach it, more or less.

Frankly, we can guess most of the revelations Hayashi and co-screenwriter Daisuke Tengan have in store for us, but the whole point of Terrible is to go along with the noir ride. Nagase is a physically less imposing Hama/Hammer, bit he is a livewire of nervous energy—and quite the stylish dresser. Yang Hai-ping and Hou Te-chien are impressively intense as the Yang brothers, but Kaho Minami is a true marvel as the tragically dignified sister-in-law, Byakuran. Plus, for added notoriety, cult actor-director Shinya Tsukamoto pops up as a Yakuza psychopath.

Hayashi openly invokes classic film noir and classic film noir homages (Godard and Truffaut definitely seem to be touchstones, along with Bogart and Spillane, himself). The black-and-white cinematography is pleasing to the eye, especially for genre fans. The crime jazz and rockabilly soundtrack also proudly proclaim its American sources of inspiration, while the conflicts between Japanese and Taiwanese/HK gangsters connects it to the Yakuza movie tradition. Highly recommended for fans of Mike Hammer and Yakuza films, The Most Terrible Time in My Life screens again March 8^th, 15th, 23^rd, and 26^th, at the Spectacle Theater in Brooklyn.

Personal Space: Featuring Commander Richard Hatch

We were optimistic during the Reagan years—even about space exploration. That is when the Overture generation ship launched. We’re not so optimistic about anything anymore, especially not the space program. These are the reality television years, so it is fitting a reality media company has acquired the mission. They will broadcast crew members sessions with the mandatory therapy computer back to Earth and reveal little snippets to their colleagues to foment dissension in the web series Personal Space (awesome trailer here), which launches today.

As the Overture goes where no man has gone before, most of the crew dozes in suspended animation. They will wake in shifts to manage the mission and perform experiments. However, Robert King, the commander of the first shift, has already extended his waking time well past customary protocol. Frankly, he lacks confidence in Gail Gartner, the commander of the second shift, but he is trying not to say so, in so many words. Meanwhile, the abrasively annoying second shift doctor, Stanley “Blasto” Blaszkiewicz is a perfect match for reality TV, whereas the caustic botanist Deborah Li is decidedly not. They are already clashing.

Personal Space has the distinction of being one of the final projects starring the late Richard Hatch, from both Battlestar Galactica series. He is perfectly cast as Commander King—and also a little poignant in retrospect. He mostly plays the role straight (at least judging from the first five webisodes), whereas the rest of the cast specializes in dysfunctional neuroses and goofball antics. Sean Persaud’s Dr. Blasto is definitely not afraid of a little shtickiness, but the biggest laughs so far come from Vivi Thai as the acerbic-tongued Li.

Even though the generation ship is a staple of science fiction literature, it does not turn up in media that often (there was Passengers, but let’s try to forget that one). In this case, the transitional changing-of-the-guard period is an interesting point pick up the journey. The humor is a little hit or miss, but at four to six minutes a pop (depending on whether there is a “post-episode recap” with the studio hosts on Earth), Personal Space does not ask much in terms of time commitment. For a lot of us, it will be worth checking in with it, just to see new work from Hatch, in a science fiction context. Recommended for fans of BSG and classic sf novels, such as Heinlein’s Orphans of the Sky, Personal Space launches today on Amazon, YouTube, and ShareTV.

The Ravenous, a.k.a. Les Affames: The Undead in Quebec

The walking dead still eat flesh, but these French Canadian zombies also have a weird form of OCD that manifests itself in compulsive stacking of like objects. It actually makes them creepier. The zombie apocalypse is a grimly existential business in Robin Aubert’s The Ravenous, a.k.a. Les Affames, which premieres tomorrow on Netflix.

Nobody seems to know how it happened, but when Ravenous opens, the survivors have already moved past denial into acceptance of their situation. Those who are still alive are necessarily good at killing zombies. Nevertheless, the human death toll keeps climbing at a constant clip throughout the film. Bonin is about to lose his best friend, but he will pick up a woman and shortly thereafter a young girl, who will become a surrogate family. He is headed towards his mother’s country home, but survivors often change their plans and direction on a dime.

Bonin’s new companion Tania is “lucky” to be alive. She happened to be bitten by a dog during the zombie uprising, so everyone she meets is instantly suspicious of her. Along with little Zoé, they will head towards Bonin’s mother’s place, where he would receive a frosty reception at the best of times. Nevertheless, they will all join forces with a grimly efficient zombie killing pre-teen and a suspiciously injured old man, because you just have to forge ad-hoc alliances during the zombie apocalypse.

You have to give Aubert loads of credit. He has made a film that is thoughtful and moody as all get-out, while still embracing the conventions of the zombie movie. Unlike Rod Blakehurst’s bitterly unsatisfying Here Alone, Ravenous never comes off like it thinks it is too good to be a zombie movie. Faces get chomped here and shufflers are hacked with machetes. Seriously, Aubert accumulates a massive body-count. Yet, he is keenly attuned to the characters’ grief and mounting sense of hopelessness. In some ways, it could be dubbed the zombie equivalent of Lars Von Triers’ Melancholia.

Probably the last zombie film that had this much genuine acting going on was Train to Busan. Marc-André Grondin is probably best known as Xavier LaFlamme in the Goon movies, but he is totally unrecognizable and intensely tightly wound as Bonin. Yet, Brigitte Poupart ups the ante even further as Céline, a business woman turned zombie killing machine, who is likely to inspire a cult following and a host of mimes. Young Charlotte St-Martin is also quite impressive as little Zoé. Frankly, there really is no weak link in the multi-character ensemble.

Weirdly, Ravenous or Les Affames or whatever, brings to mind the best quote from the aughts, from Jed Babbin: “going to war without France is like going deer hunting without an accordion. All you do is leave behind a lot of noisy baggage.” In this case, the French Canadians bring an accordion to the zombie uprising. Presumably, it represents Tania’s last link to normalcy, but it still has a randomness that fits the film’s world view. Arguably, it is both gorier and more thoughtful than the first season of The Walking Dead—its like Aubert can have his brains and eat them too. Highly recommended for zombie fans, The Ravenous starts streaming tomorrow (3/2) on Netflix.

Oh Lucy!: The Independent Spirit Award Nominee

American English is different from the Queen’s English. That’s what Setsuko Kawashima’s Yankee English teacher teaches, so it makes sense he has a pedagogy you won’t find in British public schools. John hugs a lot and deep down, she rather digs that. She is profoundly sad, so she might as well start taking risks, even when they are wildly ill-conceived. Free-spiritedness is harder to master than it looks in Atsuko Hirayanagi’s Oh Lucy! (trailer here), which opens tomorrow in New York.

Kawashima is a quietly desperate office lady, whose only consolation is that most of her co-workers’ jokes are directed behind the back of her senior colleague. Her relationship with her drama queen sister is strained at best, because Kawashima still blames Ayako for stealing and marrying her former boyfriend. Generally, Kawashima is okay with her flighty niece Mika, but she is still cautious when asked for a favor. Mika is hoping she will buy out her spot in John’s prepaid English lessons.

John’s “school” is a room in a Yakuza owned love hotel, where he gives his students English names and ridiculous wigs to wear. Yet, somehow, being the blonde Lucy is liberating for Setsuko. Takeshi Komori, or “Tom,” a widowed ex-cop, also enjoys the informality and hugging. Frankly, he could be perfect for Setsuko, but when John and Mika abscond with her lesson fees back to America, she perversely decides to chase after him. To make things even more awkward, Ayako invites herself along to give her daughter a piece of her mind. However, when the arrive at their last known address, they find John has been dumped and abandoned by Mika. Now he is just a pathetic stoner on the verge of eviction, but Setsuko/Lucy is still interested.

Oh Lucy is a fix-up of Hirayanagi’s award-winning short. Basically, she took the crowd-pleasing English lesson gags and added a bunch of tragic reality. The result is a sad and wise character study that shares a distant but legit kinship with Kumiko the Treasure Hunter.

Shinobu Terajima totally deserves her Independent Spirit nomination for her portrayal of Kawashima. She has a tricky tight-rope to walk. She is achingly vulnerable, yet also a little off, but not in a conspicuous way that prompts viewers to keep their guard up. In a way, the role of John represents Josh Harnett’s career arc. At first, he looks hip and handsome, but then he becomes rather sad—yet there are still flashes of the old charm that shine through. Regardless how well he relates to the part, this is some of his best work in years.

Hirayanagi has two more aces up her sleeve. Kaho Minami (currently married to Ken Watanabe) is wonderfully tart as Ayako, but she also plays her smart and self-aware. Of course, Kôji Yakusho is money in the bank as “Tom” Komori, whom he plays with sensitivity and goofiness without compromising his manly screen persona one whit. Megan Mullally kills a brief cameo, but Reiko Aylesworth (Michelle Dessler in 24) is frustratingly under-employed as John’s ex.

Traditionally, it is the salarymen whose angst has been grist for cinema, so it is nice to see the frustrations of office ladies get some equal time. Even with its eccentricities, this is a messily realistic film that deliberately zigs when we want it to zag. That’s life folks. Hirayanagi and Terajima show that it can be both ugly and beautiful. Very highly recommended, Oh Lucy! opens tomorrow (3/2) in New York, at the Landmark 57 West and the Village East.

Midnighters: Happy New Year

Hasn’t anyone ever seen I Know What You Did Last Summer? If you hit a sketchy dude by the side of the road, just call the cops. It will be so much easier that way in the long run. Lindsey and Jeff Pittman do not do that, but they have some good excuses. Like, maybe it was self-defense and they didn’t even know it. Things get complicated quickly in Julius Ramsay’s Midnighters (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Jeff Pittman should have made a New Year’s resolution to get a job, or at least not mow people down when his blood alcohol is over the limit. Since he and his wife Lindsey are already under a lot of stress, they agree to temporarily remove the body from the accident scene that they tidy up as best they can, with the intention of returning to face the music once they have sobered up. It is a swell plan that can’t fail, until they notice the rather thuggish looking man had their address in his pocket. If he was coming to do them ill, it stands to reason, there will be more like him coming in his stead.

Jeff Pittman blames his sister in-law Hannah, which both women resent, even though he is more right than wrong. She had moved back in with the couple after the death of her well-heeled older lover, doing their already strained marriage no favors. It turns out, the late boyfriend was even more mobbed up than she realized. As further visitors turn up, both Jeff and Hannah will try to turn Lindsey against each other, as their New Year turns into A Simple Plan.

Midnighters has some devious twists and turns, but like the Sam Raimi film, it reflects a sense of working class economic malaise. Eighteen grand is not too small a sum to kill someone for in the Pittmans’ world. This is indeed hardscrabble New England, with the emphasis on hard.

Based on her knock-out work in Starry Eyes and Tales of Halloween, Alex Essoe is poised to join the ranks of today’s pseudo rep company of hip horror movie specialists, but she is surprisingly restrained and withdrawn as Lindsey Pittman. In contrast, Dylan McTee brings plenty of cutting attitude and intensity as Jeff. However, Perla Haney-Jardine is just a pill but that is apparently how Ramsay and his screenwriter brother Alston intended her to be.

Cinematographer Alexander Alexandrov makes it all look dark and sinister, in a “wicked” New England kind of way. This is a tense, gritty, and tightly executed film that is too grounded to be horror, but definitely shares some of the stylistic elements. Recommended for fans of one-darned-thing-after-another thrillers, Midnighters opens this Friday (3/2) in New York, at the IFC Center.

NYICFF ’18: The Highway Rat (short)

The BBC’s latest Julia Donaldson animated special is sort of like the fable of “The Ant and the Grasshopper,” but the freeloader is more criminal and predatory. He rides the highway, “occupying” the food all the other animals have harvested and saved—and yes, he is a rat. The old rogue will gorge himself in Jeroen Jaspaert’s The Highway Rat, which screens as part of the Shorts for Tots program at the 2018 New York International Children’s Film Festival.

Donaldson’s stories are certainly accessible for young viewers, but as usual, Highway Rat has a voice cast that will appeal to parents. Like previous Magic Light Pictures productions, including Room on the Broom and the Gruffalo and Revolting Rhymes films, Rob Brydon leads the vocal ensemble, this time serving as the narrator, in the Hans Conried tradition. It is none other than the old Doctor, David Tennant, giving voice to the rat—and what a rat he is.

We see plenty of the rat’s plundering. He really wants pastries, but he still chews up their vegetables, just out of spite. The situation is getting dire, but the duck has an idea. Usually, ducks aren’t so bright, but this one is different.

Frankly, it is a little surprising the festival isn’t playing up Highway Rat more, considering the voice talent involved and the Oscar track record of previous Magic Light/BBC specials. Regardless, this is an enjoyable film, with an admirable takeaway: hard work and productivity are more rewarding than parasitic redistribution. Plus, the comeuppance is kind of clever.

Clocking in at a broadcast-friendly twenty-five minutes, Highway Rat is definitely the centerpiece of the Shorts for Tots program. There are enough furry animals and the quality of the animation (not Studio Ghibli, but still colorful and faithful to Axel Scheffler’s original illustrations) is high enough to satisfy most animation fans. Highly recommended for family viewing, The Highway Rat screens this Saturday (3/3) and Sunday (3/4), as well as March 10^th, 11^th, 17^th, and 18^th, during this year’s NYICFF.

Masaaki Yuasa’s Mind Game

You could say Masaaki Yuasa’s anime cult classic is like Heaven Can Wait on some serious psychedelic hallucinogens. Or maybe it is more like Pinocchio, but still on mind-melting acid or mescaline. Kids, there is no need for drugs when this movie exists. Strange and inconsistent, but clearly the work of a mad genius, Yuasa’s freshly restored Mind Game (trailer here) opens this Friday in New York, at the Metrograph.

Yuasa’s recent films, The Night is Short, Walk on Girl and Lu Over the Wall have been acquired by GKIDS, who are also distributing Mind Game, but parents and patrons should understand clearly and explicitly there is some very adult content in Yuasa’s semi-notorious 2004 provocation, but his hyper-kinetic stylistic blender might be even more off-putting for young viewers. Yuasa mashes together dozens of animation forms, including some deliberately ugly, highly stylized live action sequences, but always with a purpose, mind you.

Narrative is not a strictly linear business in Mind Game, but it largely follows thusly. Nishi is a profoundly morose slacker, who happens to meet up with Myon, the old not-quite girlfriend for whom he has been eating his heart out since their high school days. At the neighborhood ramen spot run by her sister Yan, Nishi had hoped to proclaim his love for her, but instead he meets her emasculating fiancé and is shot dead by an ex-soccer star turned Yakuza.

Nope, that’s not the end. Resentful that the disinterested God will not give him an opportunity for reincarnation, Nishi makes a break for it back to Earth. Coming to seconds before his murder, Nishi turns the tables on the Yakuza and drags the confused Myon and Yan on a mad getaway flight that ends in the belly of a whale. Therein starts the second act.

Actually, mid-section gets rather bogged down in the whale’s belly, which is the film’s greatest drawback. Frankly, there is a whole lot of story told in elliptical fragments that could have replaced some of the whale languor. Granted, there is a point to it all, that is actually totally on-point for our time: the uncertainty of real life is ultimately preferably to the safety of a whale’s belly (embroider that on a throw pillow), but viewers will miss the manic eccentricity that came before.

Or not. This is definitely a film for adventurous cult movie fans. Thematically, it shares some similarities with Night is Short, Yuasa’s best film to date, but aesthetically, Mind Game is entirely its own creature. Essentially, you just need to roll with it, as it starts, stalls, and goes in dozens of directions simultaneously. If you latch on to its wavelength, at some point, the unruliness starts to click, but don’t beat yourself up if you never get there. Still, this is a film serious fans and scholars of animation will have to deal with, because it is so singular. Recommended for the rude and bold, Mind Games opens this Friday (3/2), at the Metrograph.

Sedona ’18: Instrument of War

The National WWII Museum is one of the best museums in the country, but since it is in the old Warehouse District rather than the French Quarter, a lot of visitors to New Orleans miss out on it. The Museum boasts an impressive collection of historically significant artifacts, including the violin secretly hand-crafted by 1^st Lt. Clair Cline in Stalag Luft I. What started as a project to combat boredom became something much greater to his fellow prisoners. Cline’s story is dramatized in Adam Thomas Anderegg’s Instrument of War (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 Sedona International Film Festival.

Instrument is an original production of BYUtv, but let’s be honest. You most likely missed it when it premiered last year. Lest you jump to conclusions, there is no mention of the Mormon Church anywhere in the film, or any sort of proselytizing whatsoever. This is a story of the Greatest Generation’s service to their country and what prisoners like Cline did to survive.

Cline and his co-pilot were shot down and captured behind enemy line during the final year of the war. The American POWs knew the Allies had the momentum, but there was a very real concern of what the expected German retreat would mean for them. Nevertheless, there was a mind-numbing monotony to their daily existence. To keep his mind occupied and to relive the memory of playing for his fiancée, Cline, the civilian wood-worker, sets out to construct a violin. Soon, many of his fellow prisoners start scrounging parts out of solidarity. However, the increasingly nervous and resentful Germans might not give the prisoners a chance to appreciate Cline’s long-awaited debut.

Granted, Instrument does not have the gritty battle scenes of Fury or Private Ryan, but it treats the POW experience seriously and responsibly. Some of the prisoners will not survive, which is how things worked in the camps. Frankly, the scope of Matt Whitaker’s screenplay could be easily adapted to the stage, but that is not necessarily a bad thing.

Jack Ashton, best known for Call the Midwife, has a leading man look, but he portrays Cline with sensitivity and compassion. Daniel Betts is also terrific as Lt. Col. Lawrence Packer, the camp’s senior American officer. Frankly, all the American and British prisoners are earnest and believable, but some of the Germans fall back on easy clichés. It is safe to say none of them have the seething presence of Ralph Fiennes, but that is admittedly an unfair comparison.

Regardless, Cline’s story is important—and Anderegg and Ashton bring it to life quite effectively. The music composed by the great Mark Isham also perfectly underscores the drama, while suiting the era. Recommended for general audiences, of all ages and backgrounds, Instrument of War screens this Thursday (3/1), as part of the Sedona International Film Festival.

Michele Soavi’s The Sect

It was a real dream team that came together for this early 1990s Italian horror film—one you really couldn’t reassemble anymore. It was directed by Dario Argento’s protégé Michele Soavi and produced by his famous mentor. It co-stars the late great Herbert Lom, no stranger to horror cinema, and Jamie Lee Curtis’s sister Kelly. The score was composed by Pino Donaggio, who is justly celebrated for his collaborations with Argento and Brian de Palma and it was ushered in to world with the support of Silvio Berlusconi Communications. Thank you, Mr. Prime Minister, and good night. Together, they gave us the feverish house of satanic horrors that is Soavi’s English-language The Sect, a.k.a. The Devil’s Daughter, a.k.a. Demon 4, which releases today on Blu-ray, from Scorpion Releasing.

In the 1970s prologue, a camper full of dirty California hippies gives hospitality to the wrong Rolling Stones-quoting, Charlie Manson-looking counter-culture creep. That would be Damon, the head of the satanic conspiracy’s American division, who is about to sacrifice his hosts to his big boss downstairs. The visiting Moebius Kelly, the European-based chief of the entire global operation, is quite pleased, but still consoles patience.

Two decades later, Kelly’s evil spirit is still willing, but his body is failing. It does not help when expat school teacher Miriam Kreisl nearly runs him down with her car (honest, she just missed him). Displaying incredibly poor judgement, she takes Kelly back to her house to recuperate. It is comfy bungalow with a finished basement—you know, mystical cult runes on the walls and a gateway to Hell at the bottom of an ancient well. Bizarrely, she never looked down there until the weird things started happening (seriously, she couldn’t use the storage space?).

Regardless, Kreisl starts having unsettling, nightmarish experiences after her guest passes away—or does he? Partly, it is due to the brain-feasting beetle he inserted up her nose before shuffling off the mortal coil. At least she can trust her colleague at school and the new, horny doctor assigned to the local hospital, right?

The Sect or whatever you want to call it is a wonderfully over-the-top exercise in demonic horror, with an element of social paranoia thrown in for good measure, a la Rosemary’s Baby.  Cinematographer Raffaele Mertes gives it a wonderfully lurid, Giallo-worthy look, while Kreisl’s sinister subterranean cellar is a marvel of production and set design.

Kelly Curtis is actually a credible and engaging horror-movie-woman-in-jeopardy, even though some of her character’s decisions induce audible face-palming. Of course, Lom chews the scenery like the old pro he is as the creepy Moebius. However, Tomas Arana might be even creepier Damon, the sadistic devil-worshipping hippie (weren’t they all).

The Pact is not an all-time horror classic, but it is not from a lack of trying. This film goes nuts six ways from the black sabbath, which makes it jolly fun to watch. Recommended for fans of Italian horror in its many varieties and all the famous names involved (except maybe Belusconi), The Sect releases today (2/27) on Blu-ray, from Scorpion Releasing.