The Coolest Guy Movie Ever: The Great Escape Pilgrimage

The Great Escape might be the greatest cinematic paradox of all time. It ends quite tragically, with scores of characters we have come to know and care about getting executed by the National Socialists. Yet, it is a totally rip-roaring, thoroughly entertaining movie that never fails to lift the spirits. Perhaps that is because the prisoners of Stalag Luft III most definitely accomplished their goal: they gave the Germans Hell. Fifty-five years after its initial release, it remains a perennial favorite among movie lovers. To celebrate the film, a group of fans and movie historians make a pilgrimage to the original Bavarian locations in Gary Espenan’s The Coolest Guy Movie Ever: Return to the Scene of the Great Escape (trailer here), which releases today on DVD and VOD.

Surprisingly, Espenan’s film is nearly as archaeological as Paul Goldsmith’s Island of Blue Dolphins doc. There is a great deal of searching for locations, using primary documents and archival photos. Due to an agreement worked out between the producers and the German Interior Department, the sight of the prison camp location is now unrecognizable and essentially untraceable. In return for permission to temporarily clear forest land, the production agreed to replant two trees in exchange for each one they chopped down. It is frustrating for Espenan’s team, but it is rather gratifying to see our fellow Yanks were so true to their word.

They have better luck identify the locations seen during the third act scramble for freedom. Of course, the motorcycle chase gets special attention, because obviously. There is not a heck of a lot of behind-the-scenes dishing going on, but fans will be happy to hear Steve McQueen basically charmed the pants off the locals. In fact, the film only further burnishes McQueen’s personal and professional reputation.

Apparently, crashing at a modern family-run country inn with McQueen, James Garner, Richard Attenborough, and the director John Sturges was a rather pleasant way to live while filming Great Escape. We mortals can only imagine. Sadly, most of the star-studded ensemble is no longer with us, but co-star Lawrence Montaigne (Haynes, a.k.a. “Diversions”) is on-hand to serve as host and commentator. He is also a veteran of the original Star Trek, so he has had an interesting career. Frankly, it also suggests it is high time for retrospective of Sturges’ work as well, which could include The Magnificent Seven, Bad Day at Black Rock, Ice Station Zebra, McQ, and The Eagle Has Landed. Primarily recommended for fans (but isn’t that pretty much everyone, anyway?), The Coolest Guy Movie Ever releases today on DVD and VOD.

Macabro ’18: Ruin Me

Getting hacked to pieces in the forest is bad enough. You shouldn’t have to pay for the dubious privilege. Unfortunately, that is about what happens to the ill-fated fans participating in the Slasher Sleepout role-playing game. It is all fun and games until people start losing lives and body parts in Preston DeFrancis’s Ruin Me (trailer here), which screens during this year’s Macabro in Mexico City.

Alex has never been a horror fan. She is also a bit high-strung, so it is really pushing it inviting her to come along on the Slasher Sleepout weekend. Her boyfriend Nathan ought to understand that, because he was her addiction counselor during rehab. Nevertheless, he convinces her to join him, because being stalked in the woods is super fun.

Weirdly, it is rather enjoyable for Marina and Pitch, a punky fan couple in an awkwardly open relationship. Naturally, Alex automatically picks up clues the fantasy game has ominously veered into reality. Yet, her stunningly unintuitive fellow game players remain steadfastly in denial. So, a good time is sure to be had by all.

Ruin Me takes off from the same basic premise as Vincent Masciale’s Fear, Inc., but the execution here is far superior, by a factor of at least one hundred. Whereas the earlier film drives us bonkers with constant its-just-a-game-no-its-not reversals, DeFrancis actually builds to a finale with bite. He also incorporates some funny, attitude-loaded dialogue, but never at the expense of the core slasher business.

As Alex, Marcienne Dwyer is pretty believably grounded and turns her big reveals quite nicely. However, Eva Hamilton steals scene after scene as Marina, the gothy hot mess. By the same token, John Odom is so flamboyantly obnoxious as Pitch, half the audience will want to kill him themselves, while the other half would keep him alive to stir up trouble.

DeFrancis definitely keeps things moving along at a good clip. Given the premise of the film, he has license to employ every tired slasher cliché, which he does, but he finds ways to give them sly twists. Clever and only moderately self-aware, Ruin Me is scrappily entertaining for horror fans. Already streaming on Shudder in the U.S., it screens this Thursday (8/23), Saturday (8/25), and next Tuesday (8/28) as part the 2018 Macabro International Horror Film Festival in Mexico City.

Alone on the Island of the Blue Dolphins: The True Story Behind the Beloved Novel

It seems hard to fathom how Scott O’Dell’s Newbery Award-winning Island of the Blue Dolphins missed the cut for PBS’s Great American Read, but a likely culprit could well be the “Own Voices” movement striving to racially segregate literature. O’Dell was not Native American, nor was he ever castaway on a small island. However, his classic YA novel was indeed based on a historical figure. Director-producer-screenwriter Paul Goldsmith and a specialized core group of archaeologists, anthropologists, and historians examine the evidence left behind by the “Lone Woman of San Nicholas Island” in Alone on the Island of Blue Dolphins, which releases today on DVD.

It is still unclear why the castaway woman (eventually baptized Juana Maria) was not on the boat that ferried the rest of the transplanted Native population off San Nicholas Island, but it is well understood why nobody came back until years later. The island itself is basically a handful of sand dunes perched in the middle of some genuinely treacherous currents and wind patterns. The only local vessel sufficiently sea-worthy met with disaster shortly after conveying the rest of the former San Nicholas population. Most just assumed she perished, but she survived and even thrived living among the remaining dogs, foxes, sea lions, and plentiful shellfish.

The Navy archaeologists who have jurisdiction over San Nicholas show viewers landmarks on the island that conform to passages in O’Dell’s book and other historical documents. Basically, the various social scientists largely confirm what we think we know about the woman who inspired Karana. Rather remarkably, they manage to deepen our understanding of her as a flesh-and-blood person, without undermining any of the book’s mystique, which is a nice trick.

In fact, everyone associated with the film seems to have their hearts in the right place. Everyone is scrupulously sensitive to Native cultures, but they also show respect to George Nidever, the hunter-sailor who “saved” Juana Maria, or at least returned her to human company, for his protective treatment. There is no kneejerk demonization here, even though her final weeks were surely frustrating. Indeed, the film is admirably adept at finding new perspectives.

Goldsmith’s approach is totally straight-forward, with a look and vibe not unlike television journalism (if it still exists). Nevertheless, the considerable time he spends on San Nicholas definitely stimulates the imagination and vicariously puts viewers in the Lone Woman’s footsteps. The doc itself clocks in just under an hour, but it is still quite a worthy project. Highly recommended for fans of O’Dell’s book and aspiring students of archaeology, Alone on the Island of Blue Dolphins releases today (8/21) on DVD, from First Run Features.

Papillon: The Remake

Henri Charrière was a pioneer in the literary subgenre of mostly-true-at-least-in-spirit memoirs. He was the right man to kick off the publishing trend, because his account of his years imprisoned in a French Guyana penal colony had plenty of adventure. Readers could also tell he had lived through some serious hardships, so they apparently forgave his alleged liberties with the strict veracity. It is time to revisit the sunny climate and friendly staff of Devil’s Island in Michael Noer’s remake of Papillon (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Charrière, a.k.a, “Papillon, because of his butterfly tattoo (but hopefully you knew that already) is guilty of plenty, but not the murder that gets him sentenced to the penal colony. That was his story and he stuck to it. Escaping the remote prison camp would be an arduous and expensive proposition, but he finds a potential financial benefactor in fellow prisoner Louis Dega, the forger. Dega is convinced his wife will soon facilitate his release, but he needs Charrière to keep him alive during the short term. In return, Dega will finance his escape plan with the money he has stashed away in an uncomfortable place where prisoners often hide things.

Of course, neither Charrière or Dega are going anywhere, anytime soon. Years will pass, including several the rebellious Charrière spends in mind-numbing, spirit-breaking solitary confinement. However, an unlikely friendship will develop between the athletic thief and the nebbish white collar criminal.

Noer’s Papillon demonstrates one of the dangers of remaking an enduringly popular film like Franklin J. Schaffner’s 1973 original. Frankly, screenwriter Adam Guzikowski is scrupulously faithful to the previous script, so it is hard to avoid asking, why bother? On the other hand, any changes he might have made would have had to be brilliant to warrant departing from the story we think we know. Arguably, the only way a remake can win is when the earlier film departed significantly from the source material, allowing it to return to the real story. Yet, in this case, the truth of Charrière’s story is admittedly debatable, so it is difficult to fall back on that justification.

Still, for Millennials who have never heard of Papillon, Steve McQueen, or Dustin Hoffman, Noer’s take is undeniably well-crafted and watchable. He makes us feel the heat and humidity—and we even start to imagine the lovely smells. Charlie Hunnam is competent as Charrière, but though his shoulders are broader than McQueen’s, he still seems less manly by comparison. As Dega, Rami Malik practically melts on screen, perhaps even managing to outdo Hoffman when it comes to perspiration. Tommy Flanagan, Ella Fitzgerald’s greatest accompanist, passed away in 2001, so there is no possible way he could have played “Masked Breton,” but Yorick van Wageningen makes quite a sinister martinet as Warden Barrot.

Clearly, Michael Noer has an affinity for prison life, judging from Papillon and the Danish prison film R, his last release to have American distribution. He definitely transports viewers to Guyana in the moment, but afterward, you still have to wonder why they made such considerable effort. However, it serves as a somewhat needed reminder of the great Schaffner, who seems long overdue for a career retrospective (which would include films like The Planet of the Apes, Patton, and The Boys from Brazil). Recommended for those who haven’t seen the original, the new Papillon opens this Friday (8/24) in New York, at the Cinepolis Chelsea.

Laughing Under the Clouds: Gaiden Parts 1 & 2

Good fantasy franchises never die, even if the evil world-devouring monster does. After the defeat of the terrible Orochi snake-beast, the Yamainu is suddenly a secret agency that no longer has a mission. Most of them will simply transfer into the Meiji-era Japanese military, but that will not be an option for the broken and dispirited Tenka Kumo. It will be a time to remember old battle and envision what could be in Tetsuya Wakano’s Laughing Under the Clouds: Gaiden Part 1 & 2 (trailer here), which screens in select cities starting this Friday (Saturday and Monday in New York).

It is difficult for wheelchair-bound Tenka Kumo to enjoy the peace. He was once considered one of the Yaimanu’s most promising members, but he resigned to participate in a highly questionable human-Orochi-fusing experiment. Nevertheless, he is still beloved by his two younger brothers, whom he has cared for after their parents were murdered by Fuuma Ninjas loyal to Orochi. Tenka’s brothers will learn about his very first mission from his old Yaimani comrades-in-arms and maybe help him reach some closure.

The second part of Gaiden focuses on the inner politics of the Fuuma Ninjas, which is kind of gutsy, considering it is basically a doomsday death cult sworn to serve Orochi. That sounds bad, but things are even worse under the current leader, who is tearing apart the clan with his ruinous ceremonies. Technically, Shirasu and Ichiu should not be alive to watch their fellow ninjas senselessly killing each other. There is a strict policy forbidding twins, but Shirasu and his parents have secretly hid Ichiu for years. Unfortunately, he is overdue to participate in the ceremony, in which initiates are invariably forced to assassinate a close family member.

Given its valedictory nature, Gaiden Part 1 will probably be best appreciated by franchise fans. Still, there are some nice action sequences and Yutaka Yamada’s sweeping score is absolutely beautiful. On the other hand, Part 2 stands alone quite easily and it is unusually dark and challenging for an established shonen property. The life of a Fuuma Ninja as Shirasu knows it is bitter, harsh, and wastefully cheap. He is sort like what Naruto might be, if he served the dark side of the Force.

Part 1 is quite lovely visually and musically, while the distinctly dark Part 2 packs a mean punch. That makes them quite an interesting pairing. Recommended to fans for the first part and non-fans for the second part, Laughing Under the Clouds: Gaiden Part 1 & 2 will have a number of special screenings throughout the country starting this Friday (8/24), including the Village East in New York on Saturday and Monday (8/25 & 8/27). (Check the Eleven Arts website for screenings near you.)

Blue Iguana: Sam Rockwell Gets Capery

Usually, Hope-level diamonds have disappointingly prosaic names, often referring to their place of origin. The “Pink Panther” is fictional, but the “Martian Pink” is a real enough outlier that sounds so romantic, you’d think jewel thieves would always be trying to steal it. The “Blue Iguana” is that kind of rock. It has already been stolen, so a motley crew of Yanks and Brits might as well steal it again in Hadi Hajaig’s Blue Iguana (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Just plain Eddie and his pal Paul Driggs should not even be allowed to travel to London, because they are parolees, but Katherine Rookwood can be very persuasive. She needs them for a simple hold-up job, but it gets complicated when somebody dies. It really wasn’t their fault—honest. However, both Rookwood and the Yanks both sort of double-cross each other, but at least she also prevents her gangster employer Arkady from putting a hit out on them, at no small financial cost to herself.

With nothing to show for their efforts so far, Rookwood, the Yanks, and their British accomplices decide to double-down on an even bigger score: the Blue Iguana. A Middle Eastern prince gave it to his hard-partying Euro wife, before giving her the boot. To get back into the royal family’s good graces, she needs to show the stone is safe and secure. Of course, she lost it long ago, but it looks like Arkady is planning to sell it back to her. Rookwood and company would like to fulfill that deal instead.

Despite a rather high body-count, Blue Iguana is a likable caper film that draws tremendous energy from its two leads. Granted, Eddie is rather gruff and grizzled, but he still represents an unusually light-comedic character for Sam Rockwell. Frankly, he seems to be enjoying the change of pace, but he is just as fully committed to the grumpy crook as he was to the snarling indie rogue’s gallery he is known for. Likewise, Phoebe Fox is just terrific as Rookwood, portraying her as a smart, mordant professional, who is also necessarily idiosyncratic—hence the company she keeps. Their scenes together crackle with electricity.

In contrast, a little of Ben Schwartz as Driggs the man-child goes a long way. It is also a bit disturbing to see Amanda Donohoe (from Lair of the White Worm) portraying the man-eating cougar mother of Arkady’s thuggish enforcer, who is the focus of some smarmy humor. However, the great Simon Callow classes up the joint in his scenes as Rookwood’s flamboyant criminal Uncle Martin.

A lot of fans will be very curious to see Rockwell in such a different context, so it is nice to be able to assure them that he does not disappoint. Hajaig wrote and helmed a breezy romp that actually skips over the Tarantino era, drawing inspiration from the uber-cool 1980s and the colorfully tacky 1970s (both of which were much more fun). It is a nice balance of attitude and nostalgia that should garner enthusiastic word-of-mouth. Recommended for caper movie fans, Blue Iguana opens this Friday (8/24) in New York, at the Village East.

Scary Movies XI: The Trace We Leave Behind

If Hollywood were to remake this Brazilian horror movie, it would have to be set in New York City, because the Big Apple is the only municipality of any size that is still in the hospital business. Of course, the Federal government has plenty of hospitals—VA hospitals, but that would drastically alter the subtext of the film. Apparently, the government of Rio has also decided to get out of the hospital business, so they are closing the oldest, spookiest facility on its books. However, a patient will be lost in the transfer process, alerting the young doctor-turned-bureaucrat in charge of the liquidation to some nefarious goings-on in J.C. Feyer’s The Trace We Leave Behind (trailer here), which screens during the Film Society of Lincoln Center’s annual Scary Movies series.

Rio’s budget has busted, so the governor has ordered liquidation of under-performing hospitals, starting with the dismally ill-equipped Sao Tome. As fate would have it, Dr. Joao Rocha served his residency there under Dr. Heitor, the hospital director before transferring to the Department of Health. He is now tasked with consolidating patients in the larger, better staffed hospitals. However, Heitor just defiantly admitted a new patient, Julia de Souza.

Despite being a pawn in his game with Heitor, Rocha is deeply moved by the abused and neglected young woman when he meets her during an inspection. He is therefore rather annoyed when she is “lost” during the patient transfer. Wracked with guilt, Rocha starts a very noisy and confrontational investigation that turns up some rather uncomfortable revelations. Apparently, de Souza was already dead before the patient transfer, but she was never properly admitted in the first place. In between, she received numerous cat scans and other expensive tests that Sao Tome is not exactly known for.

Something in Sao Tome knows what happened. Rocha can literally hear it or them in the walls. He might be going nuts, but that doesn’t mean he is wrong. In fact, screenwriters Beatriz Manela and Andre Pereira rather cleverly fused supernatural horror with a manipulative political conspiracy thriller. It all works relatively well until it shifts its focus to Rocha’s pregnant wife Leila, becoming a “woman in jeopardy” thriller in the third act.

Ironically, Trace is clearly intended as a protest statement on Brazilian austerity measures, but the more we watch, the more convinced we become of the justification for shutting down Sao Tome, because it really is a deeply corrupt and downright evil institution. As a horror movie location, it is also appealingly creepy and atmospheric. We can see the faded grandeur and the shadowy lighting is perfect for hauntings.

As Rocha, Rafael Cardoso is rigid and tightly wound, in a way that befits a government inspector barging into a horror movie. Leandra Leal is very much the typically passive pregnant woman in danger, but Jonas Bloch definitely looks ambiguously distinctive as old Heitor.

There are a number of creepy moments in Trace, but its commentary falls flat, at best. Arguably, Feyer loses control over his own picture, but that is not necessarily a bad thing in this case. In fact, there is enough here to recommend The Trace We Leave Behind for fans of Latin American horror, when it screens Tuesday night (8/21) at the Walter Reade, as part of Scary Movies XI.

Scary Movies XI: The Inhabitant

It turns out the dude who broke into the serial killer’s home in Bad Samaritan got off easy. David Tennant was just a flesh-and-blood psychopath. In contrast, three sisters who break into a corrupt senator’s mansion are in for a world of demonic hurt. Crime truly does not pay in Guillermo Amoedo’s The Inhabitant (trailer here), which screens during the Film Society of Lincoln Center’s annual Scary Movies series.

The oldest sister, Camila, is an ex-con who owes the wrong people money, so when they tell her to break into Sen. Sanchez-Lermontov’s’s safe, she really does not have any choice in the matter. Her two younger sisters, Maria and Ana have come along to help. Unfortunately, instead of cash in the safe, they find the couple’s emaciated daughter Tamara chained up in the basement. Of course, once Camila releases her from her cell, very bad things start to happen. Yep, you got it.

Amoedo takes his time setting the scene and establishing his characters, but when he finally unleashes the satanic horror, it turns out to be some intense, prolonged, and over-powering stuff. This film will scare Whole Foods-shopping Unitarians back to the Catholic Church. Yes indeed, there is veteran demon-exorcising cardinal expected shortly, but the circumstances will be even more complicated than he expected.

Maria Evoli is solid as the larcenous sister most likely to be the “final girl,” but she is overshadowed by the gravitas of Fernando Becerril’s old school Cardinal Natale and Natasha Cubria, who is truly harrowing and terrifying as the possessed but occasionally lucid Tamara. Production designer Xènia Besora’s team also does a first-class job crafting and dressing the Sanchez-Lermontov villa. It is obviously an opulent home, but the bric-a-brac just looks like it radiates evil.

So, that “thou shalt not steal” business is no joke. Anyone who has a few satanic panic movies under their belt will anticipate the twist ending from the clear foreshadowing throughout the film. However, there are several extended sequences involving faith and temptation that are remarkably potent. This is a scary film that really hits viewers in the gut and on an archetypal level. Very highly recommended, The Inhabitant screens Monday night (8/20) at the Walter Reade, as part of Scary Movies XI.

Scary Movies XI: The Witch in the Window

Unfortunately for Simon, they never tell you how to exorcise ghosts on those Old Yankee Toolbox shows. He knows plenty about carpentry and electrical wiring, but old lady Lydia is outside his expertise (she is more of a witch in a pejorative sense, but she is definitely a ghost, so whatever). It will make the Vermont country home tough to flip, but Simon is more worried about his son’s safety in Andy Mitton’s The Witch in the Window (trailer here), which screens during the Film Society of Lincoln Center’s annual Scary Movies series.

It seemed like a good idea at the time. Simon’s son Finn had been going through a rough patch at school, so he thought some time away from the City and his Trump-deranged mother would do him good. In fact, it seems to go well in the first few days. Father and son even do a bit of bonding. There are a few weird things here and there, but old houses settle in the night, blah, blah, blah. However, when they finally get a good look at Lydia, in her favorite chair by the upstairs window, it is utterly terrifying.

Window has absolutely no gore and very little in terms of special effects, but it is scary as all get out. In this case, the fear is generated from two sources: Mitton’s masterful control of mood and atmosphere, as well as the characters, who are so believably drawn, we inevitably experience the fear and tension through them.

Alex Draper and Charlie Tacker quite a father-son tandem together. Frankly, their conversations that do not address hauntings are still unusually honest and true to life. They would be worth watching even if there were just doing home restoration work. However, when you add in Lydia, the stakes rise through the roof. Obviously, the paternal relationship lies at the heart of the film, but Greg Naughton also delivers one of the best supporting performances in a horror movie this year as Louis, the neighbor who has been tormented by Lydia for years.

Mitton also puts on a clinic for directing supernatural chillers. He clearly has an intuitive sense for showing just enough and no more to jangle viewers’ nerves. This is a quiet film with New England reserve, but it really gets under your skin. Very highly recommended, The Witch in the Window screens tomorrow (8/19) at the Walter Reade, as part of Scary Movies XI.

Scary Movies XI: Impossible Horror

There is well-lighted parking and a conscientious security guard, but nobody feels safe in Lily’s apartment complex—with good reason. People have disappeared here before. Plus, there is the regular nightly scream—as in “the Scream.” It freaks her out, but it might just rekindle her passion for filmmaking, if she can resist the urge to curl up into a fetal ball of fear in Justin Decloux’s Impossible Fear (trailer here), which screens during the Film Society of Lincoln Center’s annual Scary Movies series.

Impossible is bound to be divisive, because Decloux withholds a great deal of context and background in the early scenes. Frankly, we are even more in the dark than Lily—and she seems pretty clueless. We can deduce her apartment is haunted and the uncanny business there is somehow related to the supernatural cult of hoodie-shrouded punks, who seem to appear after the nightly scream. It is indeed a scream in the night of unknown origin. After each shriek, a new clue mysteriously appears, some of which are cool and some are grotesque.

Just when she resolves to document this eerie phenomenon, Lily meets Hannah, a long-time “Scream-chaser.” It seems like Hannah is not intimidated by the Scream, the “Hoodies,” or the security guard who always turns up at the wrong time. She might even become something like a friend to the shy Lily, but just when they think they are close to solving the mystery, the new clues send them tumbling deeper down the rabbit hole.

Reportedly, Decloux was influenced by J-horror films, which makes sense. Although he does not use any identifiable tropes (like long-haired uncanny women), there is something about the vibe that feels akin to classic Japanese horror. Even at night-time, their environment is bright and chilly. There is just an over-riding sense that nobody is ever safe.

That feeling of tangible vulnerability is a major reason why Impossible is one of the creepiest, most unsettling horror films of the year. Decloux also has a knack for doling out small but tantalizing revelations that set the hook deeper, while still maintaining the overall mystery. Frankly, the audience will often be confused by what is unfolding, but it is always clear Decloux knows exactly what’s what. We have no idea what the rules are, yet we can tell he has strictly abided by them.

Haley Walker and Creedance Wright are both terrific as Lily and Hannah, but in very different ways. Walker’s Lily is so twitchy and standoffish, she makes it even more difficult for viewers to get their bearings. In contrast, Wright is refreshingly bold and maybe even a little nutty, but in a way that wears well. She is definitely a wild card, who further destabilizes the situation, but she is also acutely human.

Impossible has a harshly digital look, but that actually suits it quite well. It is a hyper-real film, in which every crazy incident looks weirdly believable, like the haunted high school hallway video on YouTube. The backstory created by Decloux and co-screenwriter Nate Wilson is so sinister and intriguing, it could easily sustain a sequel or a prequel. Very highly recommended, Impossible Horror screens Sunday night (8/19) at the Walter Reade, as part of Scary Movies XI.

Mile 22: Peter Berg Directs Iko Uwais

Unfortunately, Congress will probably have to apply the Magnitsky Act to more Russian officials after this explosive kerfuffle. The Russians has compromised the coms of the CIA’s double-secret tactical unit, to feed real-time intel to the terror-supporting security service of a country not completely dissimilar from Indonesia. Their mission is to extract a source who can pin-point large quantities of stolen cesium-137, but it will be a particularly hard day at the office for James Silva’s team in Peter Berg’s Mile 22 (trailer here), which opens today nationwide.

Silva was a child prodigy, who still has trouble with that human relationship kind of stuff. However, he can most definitely shoot, fight, and make command decisions on the fly. We see his team take out a safe-house full of Russian agents in the prologue, with only one fatality on their side, so you know they must be tough. Flashing forward to the rest of the film, we find Silva is now stationed in Indocarr, or some such, where the embassy team faces a bit of a quandary.

Li Noor was a top asset recruited by Silva’s human intel specialist, Alice Kerr. He has a Mission Impossible-protected disk, loaded with the locations of the missing cesium, but it will self-destruct if Li is not safely delivered out of the country. Silva’s team will escort him to the CIA transport plane, but they will have to drive through downtown Not-Jakarta. It should be easy with “Mother” and his fellow “Overwatch” controllers guiding them from an undisclosed location, butt they take fire from the elite secret police every step of the way.

Admittedly, there are two considerable issues of internal logic that plague Mile 22. For one thing, you would think a prodigy like Silva, who supposedly has to slow down his mile-a-minute thoughts by snapping an elastic band on his wrist would realize: “hey, isn’t it funny they always know exactly where we’re going? Why, it is like they can hear us talking.” Also, since Li is played by Iko Uwais, why not just turn him loose on the goons commanded by the sinister Axel?

Of course, Uwais is definitely the best thing going for the film. He has a featured fight scene in the embassy clinic that is up there with his best work in the Raid franchise. He also adapts quite smoothly to the run-and-gun style of action that is the stock-and-trade of Silva’s team. Mark Wahlberg also definitely has the right kind of commando presence, while credibly portraying Silva slightly on the spectrum.

As you would expect, Ronda Rousey holds up her end as team member Sam Snow, but John Malkovich is disappointingly restrained as Mother. Likewise, K-Pop star Chae-rin Lee (CL) does not have much to do as Overwatch controller “Queen,” but hey, she looks fabulous. On the other hand, former New York Ranger (and one-time Vogue magazine intern) Sean Avery has a dynamite sort-of-cameo as “Assault One,” during the prologue.

Action fans, especially those who dug Wahlberg’s previous films with Berg will be utterly shocked by how dark Mile 22 gets. However, you have to give them credit for going there. That is why it is unfair of kneejerk critics to automatically dismiss the film. Yes, Berg and screenwriter Lea Carpenter invite viewers to celebrate the sacrifices made by the American military and intelligence services to protect our liberty, but Silva’s team pays an awfully high price and swallows some profoundly bitter pills during the course of the film. It will leave audiences in a mood of wary vigilance rather than triumphalism. (Yet, if the film is a hit, the sequel practically writes itself.)

Regardless, it is quite a zippy commando movie that makes good use of Uwais, Wahlberg, and their action co-stars. Accessible but gritty, Mile 22 is recommended for mainstream genre fans when it opens today (8/17) across the country, including the AMC Empire in New York.

Scary Movies XI: Blood Paradise

Robin Richards is like a cross between E.L. James and Anne Rice, except she might just be completely written out. Hey, it happens to the worst of us too. To reignite her inspiration, Richards’ agent has booked her a stay at a quaint Swedish farm. It might even work, if Richards survives the experience in Patrick von Barkenberg’s Blood Paradise (trailer here), which screens during the Film Society of Lincoln Center’s annual Scary Movies series.

Richards has a lavish lifestyle and a pampered boy toy to support. Unfortunately, her last book, Return to Blood Paradise, a sequel to her bestselling Blood Paradise bombed hard. As a result, she has to go along with the plan when her agent dispatches her to the rustic working farm-B&B. Of course, it is worse than Richards could have imagined: no cell service, outdoor privies, and the ragingly psychotic Former Rolf.

Blood Paradise starts with an intriguing premise: the scandalous writer forced to confront the weirdness of rural Sweden. It is sort of the genre version of Doc Hollywood, where the locals really are sadistic murderers. Co-screenwriter-co-everything Andréa Winter is also a spectacularly hot mess as Richards. Unfortunately, the second and third acts are just a lot of same-old-same-old disappointments. It really is a bummer, because Richards is such a promising character, but she just turns into a typical horror movie idiot down the stretch.

Winter really is a delight haughtily rolling her eyes in the early scenes. Frankly, we have a hard time believing von Barkenberg as Teddy, the himbo kept-man, but maybe some women out there would beg to differ. Regardless, we should all be able to agree Christer Cavallius’s smarmy shtick as Richards’ “Number One Fan” Hans Bubi quickly grows tiresome. As sexually confused serial killers go, Rolf Brunnstrom’s Farmer Rolf is also unusually dull, but he is Swedish after all.

Somewhere around the half-hour mark, von Barkenberg lost sight of the snarky attitude, but kept plowing ahead anyway. The results are highly forgettable, which is a cardinal sin for a film like this. Maybe someone else could write a film that better showcased Winter and her Richards character. They could call it Return to Blood Paradise. Not recommended, von Barkenberg’s Blood Paradise screens Saturday night (8/18) at the Walter Reade, as part of Scary Movies XI.

Scary Movies XI: Dagon

“Imboca” is Spanish for “Innsmouth,” so H.P. Lovecraft fans should know this quaint Spanish coastal village will not be very hospitable to strangers looking for help. Alas, poor Lovecraft fans have seen their literary idol fall out of fashion with the professionally outraged, so the Film Society of Lincoln Center deserves some credit for programming Stuart Gordon’s Dagon, an Iberianized adaptation of Lovecraft’s short story “The Shadow Over Innsmouth” as part of the “Tainted Waters” sidebar during Scary Movies XI.

Super-rich investor Paul Marsh was enjoying a cruising vacation with his lover Barbara and their somewhat older friends Howard and Vicki, until a freak storm smashes them into a reef. He and Barbara just barely make it to shore in the damaged dinghy, but the village of Imboca does not exactly spring into action to help them.

In turns out, Imboca turned its back on Catholicism to worship the water demi-god Dagon. Marsh recognizes the pagan symbols and the priestess Uxia from his dreams. Unfortunately, they are nightmares. The long-lived Imbocans were rewarded with nets overflowing with fish and weird, Geiger-esque jewels, but there was a catch. They have started becoming hybrid fish creatures themselves. Evidently, it has been a while since Imboca sent a sacrifice Dagon’s way, so they do not intend to waste Marsh and his friends.

Dagon definitely fits the “tainted water” theme. This is probably one of the dampest films ever, with constant rain, boating accidents, and all kinds of icky-looking stagnant water. If you get out of Imboca without being sacrificed by the fish people, definitely get yourself a tetanus shot.

Of course, that means it is just drenched in ominous atmosphere. Living up to his reputation as the best filmmaker for translating Lovecraft on screen, Gordon instills Dagon with a tangible feeling of ancient evil. There is also a manic, one-darned-thing-after-another vibe to the film. It is all completely nuts, but it never gives viewers time to formulate questions.

Raquel Meroño is a highly charismatic scream queen, so it is a real disappointment when Barbara is sidelined for most of the second act. However, Ezra Godden is mostly a worthy stand-in for Gordon’s regular leading man, Jeffrey Combs—and the Miskatonic University sweatshirt is a nice touch from the wardrobe department. The late great Spanish actor Francisco Rabal (who worked with Buñuel, Antonioni, and Visconti) is terrific as Ezequiel, the town drunk whose conscience is reawakened by Marsh’s example. In another nice touch, the film is dedicated to his memory.

Granted, Dagon goes off the rails in the final ten minutes, but up till then it is a solid, entertainingly creepy Lovecraft adaptation. Honestly, if you want to watch Lovecraft films, you had better see them while you can. The Social Justice Warriors already had the World Fantasy Convention discontinue the bust of Lovecraft crafted by Gahan Wilson as their literary award. It is a sure bet they will next petition streaming services to drop Lovecraft films—after all, they are vocally hostile to the First Amendment. Lovecraft lived a miserable life mired in poverty, ill-health, and isolation (all of which bring out the worst in people). His bitterness is understandable, but unfortunately it manifested in racial prejudice and a general contempt for religion.

He was also the most influential American horror writer since Poe. To simply make him vanish Soviet-style would incalculably impoverish our culture. So, watch Dagon because it is a fun film and to protest the Vandals threatening at the gates of the fantastical canon. Highly recommended, Dagon screens Sunday afternoon (8/19), as part of this year’s Scary Movies.

The Ranger: Punks in the Park

Teddy Roosevelt and Gifford Pinchot must be pleased with themselves. Thanks to them, we have the National Park system, providing stalking grounds for psycho-killers out to prey on clueless visitors. It is a national crisis, but at least Chelsea and her friends will not be missed if the titular madman successfully bumps them off, one-by-one, in Jenn Wexler’s The Ranger (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

After stabbing a cop to escape a drug bust, Chelsea’s bandmates decide to hole-up in her Uncle Pete’s old cabin until the heat blows over. Wisely, they do everything they can to antagonize the park ranger on their way in. Ordinarily, that would be a bad strategy for fugitives from justice, but it is particularly unfortunate in this case, because the Ranger is a raging psychopath. He also happens to remember Chelsea from the time she spent up there as a young girl. Of course, the Ranger hasn’t aged a day over all those years, but that is the benefit of that clean mountain air, right?

The Ranger also knows a thing or two about her that she maybe tried to forget. He definitely thinks they share a connection, so he will not try to kill her—just the rest of her friends. Frankly, it would be no great tragedy for the world to lose these obnoxious, drug-dealing, substance-abusing, cop-bashing, nature-defiling, self-centered brats. In fact, the film would work much better if it invited us to root for the Ranger as he stalked the punk rock punks, but Wexler makes him such a creepy sadist, we’re left with nobody to root for and nothing to hold our interest.

This film is really just a mess, starting with the flashback prologue that is hard to reconcile with the rest of the film. This is a lazy screenplay that shows us things for cheap effect and then forgets about them—continuity be damned.

It is surprising to see the Glass Eye Pix logo affixed to The Ranger, because their films are usually much smarter than this. At least, that also means Larry Fessenden’s reassuring presence graces the film, in flashbacks as Uncle Pete. Chloe Levine fares decently as Chelsea, but Jeremy Holm’s Ranger comes across like a poor man’s Patrick Warburton.

For real punk fans, the soundtrack is legit, so there’s that. That is about all it has to redeem itself. Not recommended, The Ranger opens this Friday (8/17) in New York, at the IFC Center.

Do You Trust This Computer? The Singularity is Right Around the Corner

First it was Deep Blue, then it was AlphaGo. The next step is Skynet and the rise of the machines. That is pretty much how all the experts see the future, according to this doom-and-gloom documentary. It is too late to close the barn door, but we can still make the futile gesture according to Chris Paine’s Do You Trust This Computer? (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Yes, the Singularity is pretty darned scary and yes, it is closer than we would like to think. As is usually the case, it is mostly Google’s fault. They have spent gazillions on artificial intelligence to generate those annoying “smart search” suggestions. Of course, we have no idea what other applications they might have in mind. One thing everyone seems to agree on is the inevitability of AI-driven battle drones that can attack at will, sort of like self-driving cars, but with machine guns and light projectile explosives.

So, isn’t that all very unsettling? Basically, that vague sentiment is the general thesis of Paine’s scattershot film. There are a lot of frightening predictions in DYTTC, but it is presented like a buffet of singularity horror stories—a little bit from here and a little bit from there and before you know it, humanity is toast. Tellingly, one talking head informs us with all due seriousness that no government regulations have ever been applied to the research and development of artificial intelligence, but he never suggests what those regulations ought to be, so what’s the point?

The question “now what?” definitely hangs over the film, rather distractingly, but it also lacks a consistent through-line or driving concept. Essentially, this film is a collection of people Paine likes (such as Elon Musk, who also appeared in his far superior Revenge of the Electric Car). Granted, if the concept of the Singularity is new to viewers than Paine’s film will probably strike them like a revelation of Biblical proportions. However, anyone who is well-versed in A.I. futurism, especially those like Ray Kurzweil (also heard from briefly) who take a more optimistic view of things, will find the film rather stitched-together, shallow, and not particularly cinematic looking.

At least Paine and company think the extinction of mankind would be a bad thing. That might sound like faint praise, but the increasing number of end-of-the-world-Singularity films arguing mankind had it coming and was no great loss anyway has been downright disturbing. Can we still save ourselves? Any ideas are welcome at this point. Maybe next time, Paine could ask for some. Despite the timeliness of its message, Do You Trust This Computer? simply is not sufficiently well-put-together to recommend (AlphaGo is a much better film that addresses the future of AI far more engagingly and comparatively more optimistically). For those with a deep interest in the subject matter (cheers for them), it opens this Friday (8/17) in New York, at the Cinema Village.

The Grand Son: Hollywood Family Values

Tod and Lani’s grandmother is sort of the Norma Desmond of home shopping television. The former movie star has lost her touch hawking cubic zirconium, so she has had her loyal grandson liquidate the furnishings of their once palatial Hollywood mansion. However, trusting Tod could very well be a grave mistake in Robert Logevall’s The Grand Son (trailer here), which releases today on VOD.

Things are getting so bad, Judy’s grandchildren might have to get jobs—real jobs, not the bogus acting gigs Lani is constantly auditioning for. Tod knows his grandmother will soon get the axe from the shopping network, because he is sleeping with her producer Barbara. He would like Judy to pass the baton to Lani, but it is not in her nature to step aside. For their part, Barbara and the network executives have little to zero interest in Lani, so it will all take a good deal of string-pulling on his part. Fortunately, Tod has a convenient scapegoat for his schemes in Jacob, the surly boy toy house painter both grandmother and granddaughter have been using in bed.

Grand Son (two words) is no Sunset Boulevard, that’s for sure, but it is entertainingly lurid, in a gleefully amoral kind of way. This is the kind of over-the-top family drama that unleashes the full-contact Dynasty-style catty-slapping before breakfast. It is all very much a guilty pleasure, but you have to guffaw at its energy and shamelessness.

Perhaps the best thing going for the film is Lesley Ann Warren (Oscar nominated for Victor/Victoria) who is perfectly cast and looks terrific as Grandma Judy, the Danielle Steel character from Hell. Fabianne Therese (John Dies at the End, Sequence Break) is so relentlessly petulant and entitled as Lani, it really is funny. Rhys Wakefield also makes quite a creepy little sociopath as Tod. However, Nathan Keyes is so drearily dull as Jacob, it is hard to believe he could last thirty seconds amid such flamboyantly nasty company.

Logevall’s last feature was All God’s Creatures Can Dance, an adaptation of a Haruki Murakami short story released in 2008. It should be safe to describe Grand Son as a change of pace. This is far from the smartest, twistiest thriller of the year, or even the week, but it has all kinds attitude. If ever there was a VOD movie this is it. Recommended fans of Warren (she was also Miss Scarlett in Clue, so show the proper respect), The Grand Son hits VOD platforms today.

Next Time I’ll Aim for the Heart: The Lamare Affair

France’s Police Nationale largely have jurisdiction over major urban areas and fall under the supervision of the Interior Ministry. The Gendarmerie are a branch of the French military that has responsibility for rural and exurban areas. Their cases often overlap, inevitably leading to rivalries. That made the case of Alain Lamare the serial killer-gendarme (renamed Franck Neuhart for dramatic purposes) even more embarrassing for his commander. Lamare’s reign of terror inspired Cédric Anger’s mostly factual Next Time I’ll Aim for the Heart (trailer here), which releases today on DVD.

Neuhart definitely kept to himself, like most serial killers. He is unpopular with his fellow gendarmes, but his commander values his strict obedience to regulations. Neuhart starts out with deliberate hit-and-runs targeting women, but he quickly escalates to firearms. Neuhart is so confident in his cleverness and insider information, he even sends taunting notes to the gendarmerie.

From time to time, Anger drops hints regarding Neuhart’s possible sexuality issues, but somehow the poorly socialized cold fish still manages to somewhat seduce his young part-time cleaning woman Sophie. He gives her plenty of clues regarding his mental offness, but she is so desperate for a better life, she choses to overlook them. That is a very human response, but Neuhart’s contemptuous colleagues have no excuse. It is particularly embarrassing when Neuhart and a colleague start canvassing neighborhoods with a police sketch that looks suspiciously like him (because it is).

The case of Neuhart/Lamare is utterly horrifying but also almost laughably absurd. It is pretty clear the serial killer is not as clever as he thinks he is, but he constantly manages to wriggle out of one jam after another. Anger maintains a scrupulously naturalistic vibe that partly de-emphasizes the genre elements. Yet, you still have to shake your head at some of his wild misadventures.

Guillaume Canet is absolutely chilling as Neuhart, suggesting possible causes for his extreme emotional dysfunction without soliciting sympathy for him. On the other hand, Ana Girardot will make viewers wince and ache for poor Sophie. Plus, the large cast of supporting gendarmes induce plenty of hard face-palming, especially Arnaud Henriet as the exceptionally weasel-like Locray.

Throughout Aim, the 1970’s period details look totally spot on, while Anger largely matches the murky tone of Seventies thrillers. It would pair up nicely with SK1, another recent ripped-from-the-true-crime-headlines French thriller. Recommended for fans procedurals and serial killer movies, Next Time I’ll Aim for the Heart releases today (8/14) on DVD, from Distrib Films US/Icarus Films.

Ahockalypse: Zombies on Ice

There are no ties in zombie apocalypses. It is sudden death all the way. High-sticking is recommended. Let’s face it, Jonesey and his teammates are probably not the brightest of the Northern Lights, might they might just have what it takes to survive in Wayne Harry Johnson’s Jr.’s Ahockalypse (trailer here), which releases in select theaters and on VOD this Friday.

If you don’t understand how a hockey player can take down a pack of shuffling zombies, fan favorite enforcer Kelly Chase will show us how its done in the film’s largely unconnected but totally awesome prologue. Cut to Jonesey and his Prairie King teammates. They are about to win the big game, with all their fans cheering them on, including divorcee booster, Mrs. Johnson. Alas, the celebration will be short-lived, due to the zombie outbreak, but there will still be time for some 1980’s-style gratuitous nudity.

Soon Jonesey is running for his life with his mates BJ and Wave, along with Mrs. Johnson and the mystery “hot girl” nobody seems to know. Jonesey is understandably concerned about his girlfriend Jenny, but she is a pill under the best of circumstances—and the zombie apocalypse really brings out the worst in her. In contrast, Mrs. Johnson keeps her cool. In fact, he is starting to realize she really isn’t that much older than him. Meanwhile, the team mascot and his two sidekicks, the “Badass Girls” have been tearing through town, mowing down zombies with their superior Kung Fu.

Thank goodness for Minnesota, because it proves we can still produce a gleefully politically incorrect zombie comedy like Ahockalypse within our borders. Sure, it is a gory zombie film, but it is indomitably cheerful all the way through. This isn’t one of those zombie movie argues the undead Armageddon is really humanity’s just deserts for not cutting green house emissions one-hundredth of one percent at the mere cost of global unemployment and mass starvation (feel the shame). It is about beer and hockey and zombies and stripper poles and guys wearing gopher suits.

Jesse Rennicke is likably luggish as Jonesey, but Gabrielle Arrowsmith is the breakout star of Ahockalypse. She gets the biggest laughs and shows considerable action cred, while maintaining her dignity in some absolutely outrageous situations. Similarly, Cassandra Ha and Jess Johnson make quite an impression and perform some impressive fight choreography as the “Badass Girls.”

Right, so forget about the Academy’s new distinction between best respectable picture and best “popular” movie. Ahockalypse is obviously winning them both. It doesn’t quite have the heart of Canada's original Wolfcop, but it is definitely skating in its league. It has to be the funniest zombie comedy since Dead Bite, which is saying something. Very highly recommended for fans of sensitive coming-of-age films, Ahockalypse hits select theaters and VOD this Friday (8/17).