Genre: Crime

The Place Beyond the Pines (2012) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“If You Ride Like Lightning, You’re Going to Crash Like Thunder.” – Robin

Successively suspenseful and dramatic, The Place Beyond the Pines, released in 2012, is a thrilling crime-drama recounting a tale of fatherly sins visited by their descendants. Efficiently co-written and directed by Derek Cianfrance (Blue Valentine, The Light Between Oceans, Sound of Metal), The Place Beyond the Pines utilises its decade-spanning story and outstanding performances from its extensive cast to construct a film that succeeds both as a high-stakes crime-thriller, and a far quieter, more empathetic character study of enraged, solitary men, ascertaining Cianfrance’s penchant for bold storytelling and eye for sighting the cast members to carry his stories through to their climax.

Plot Summary: When Luke, a high-wire motorcycle stuntman, passes through Schenectady, New York, as part of a travelling carnival, he reconnects with his former lover, Romina, discovering that, in his absence, she has given birth to their son, Jason. Determined to give his son the upbringing he never had, Luke renounces his life on the road to provide for his new family, taking an underpaid job as a car mechanic before committing a series of bank robberies aided by his exceptional motorcycle skills, eventually placing him on a collision course with the ambitious police officer, Avery Cross…

Unfolding over fifteen years, the actual narrative of The Place Beyond the Pines is undoubtedly one of the film’s finest aspects, disclosing an engaging and dreary tale, all within the confines of Schenectady and its surrounding woodland. The first two acts of the story, which almost feel like distinct ‘chapters,’ are consistently compelling and narratively unpredictable. Unfortunately, however, the strengths of the first two acts are diluted in the somewhat meandering third act, which is admittedly weaker than those that precede it, concluding the story with something of an anticlimax. Nevertheless, it is a uniquely structured plot, conforming to the notion of generational sins.

In the first act, the story revolves around the travails of Luke, portrayed by Ryan Gosling, a heavily-tattooed motorcycle stuntman living a freeing life on the road before he learns his former lover, Romina, portrayed by Eva Mendes, has given birth to their son. Given something to care about in his life, Luke decides to abandon his trivial lifestyle to become a suitable father figure, plunging into a dead-end job before taking a friend’s suggestion to rob banks. From here, Luke rides the line between logical and immoral, performing vile acts in the hope of earning money to fuel better ones, making for an instantly compelling character as Gosling suitably delivers a nuanced, moody performance riddled with pathos. Likewise, Avery Cross, excellently portrayed by Bradley Cooper, is a captivating protagonist in the second act. Serving as one of the police officers tasked with finding Luke, Avery is a well-educated officer keen to prove himself and move up the ranks of law enforcement. But, as his time in the force grows, Avery begins to see the deep level of corruption within his department, conveying underlying social commentary that is even more relevant today. Lastly, in the third act, the narrative switches focus to the sons of Luke and Avery, Jason and AJ, portrayed by Dane DeHaan and Emory Cohen, respectively, fifteen years after the previous acts. And despite DeHaan and Cohen delivering admirable performances as both characters inherit some of their father’s traits, this act and its protagonists are less gripping than the previous two, as previously mentioned.

When it comes to the visuals, the cinematography of The Place Beyond the Pines is largely dominated by hand-held shots. Fortunately, these shots are considerably less distracting (and motion sickness-inducing) than many other flicks where this style of camerawork is employed. However, Sean Bobbitt’s cinematography is undoubtedly at its most effective in one particularly exhilarating chase sequence, seemingly accomplished in one unbroken take as it’s shot entirely through the window screen of a police car pursuing Luke on his motorcycle.

In spite of the many moments of violence and tension, the original score by Mike Patton is unexpectedly soothing. Patton, who is most known as the lead singer of the alternative metal band, Faith No More, made his debut composing for film with the action sequel; Crank: High Voltage, in 2009, The Place Beyond the Pines being his third score, and easily his most impressive to date. A combination of electronic tones, electric and acoustic guitar accents and a sampled choir, the soundtrack retains many beautiful tracks, the most notable being; The Snow Angel, a lonesome piano-led motif that is only heard once during the runtime yet is exceptionally memorable, even appearing in one of the film’s trailers. 

Intriguingly, Derek Cianfrance claims that his financier would only provide him with the budget he desired if he reduced the one hundred-and-fifty-eight-page screenplay to one hundred and ninety pages. Without removing anything, Cianfrance sneakily used a smaller font and extended the margins, which I’m thankful for as, in my opinion, virtually every scene throughout The Place Beyond the Pines is important.

In summary, in trying to convey such a monumental amount of story, The Place Beyond the Pines does sometimes spread itself too thin and leave some strands incomplete, but when the film is at its best, it is an enthralling and well-written piece of storytelling. And while its underlying themes are weighty, Derek Cianfrance’s strong direction and surprisingly effective use of hand-held camerawork result in a disquieting style that snappily underplays the drama and uncertainty. Rating: low 8/10.

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The Happytime Murders (2018) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“Do You Have the Latest Issue of Puppet Pussy Party?” – Phil Philips

Released in 2018, The Happytime Murders was a long-in-development project from the adult-geared alternative arm of the Jim Henson Company, the famed production company behind The Muppet Show, Fraggle Rock, Dinosaurs and many other beloved, family-friendly projects. Yet, unlike those projects, The Happytime Murders squanders its imaginative premise on a witless and raunchy crime-comedy that blindly pushes buttons instead of attempting to tell an entertaining story, to the extent that even under the proficient direction of Brian Henson (The Muppet Christmas Carol, Muppet Treasure Island), son of the late Jim Henson, the film never manages to escape its dreadfully lethargic humour or its foreseeable buddy-cop storyline.

Plot Summary: When the cast of a 1990s sitcom is murdered one by one at the hands of a mysterious figure, Phil Philips, once the Los Angeles Police Department’s first puppet police officer, now a weary private investigator, finds himself dragged into the case. But, as the investigation becomes more and more bewildering, Phil is forced to bury the hatchet with his former human partner, Detective Connie Edwards, in order to prevent more past-their-prime puppets from meeting a grisly end…

Curiously, before the film was released, Sesame Workshop, the non-profit organisation behind the cherished children’s television series; Sesame Street, actually tried to sue The Happytime Murders‘ marketing team on account of one of the film’s taglines; “No Sesame. All Street.” Claiming the film tarnished their child-friendly reputation. However, the suit was ultimately rejected. In many ways, this amusing piece of behind-the-scenes drama is more interesting than the actual narrative of The Happytime Murders, which primarily serves as a witty yet predictable detective mystery where Phil and his partner, Connie, are driven to scour for clues across the sunlit, puppet-populated metropolis of Los Angeles, in the hope of exposing the unbeknownst serial killer. Through this investigation, the film makes many attempts at humour, 90% of which falls short as most of the comedy lazily stems from adorable puppets merely cursing or enjoying more adult activities, such as smoking, sex or drinking alcohol. On a more positive note, the film does, at least, feature a few fragments of absorbing world-building, most notably with how puppets are considered second-class citizens compared to humans, hence why so many puppets eventually become addicts, numbing themselves to the misery of their lives, a detail that is clearly intended as underlying (and underdeveloped) social commentary.

As mentioned previously, The Happytime Murders is, at its core, a parody of classic buddy-cop crime-thrillers, with the alcoholic, blue-felt gumshoe, Phil Philips, skillfully portrayed by Bill Barretta, reluctantly pairing up with his abrasive former partner, Detective Connie Edwards, clumsily portrayed by Melissa McCarthy, after his thespian brother gets inexplicably murdered by an individual intent on wiping out the entire cast of the Happytime Gang, a prevalent ’90s sitcom. All of whom were puppets, aside from the token human cast member, Jenny, portrayed by Elizabeth Banks. And thanks to the spectacular puppetry on display, you quickly forget that Phil, one-half of this investigative tandem, is a glorified hand in a sock. Alas, the characterisation isn’t nearly as impressive as beyond some basic character traits and chucklesome one-liners, both members of the central duo lack depth and frequently come across as obnoxious, especially McCarthy. Regrettably, this issue also extends to the under-utilised supporting cast of Maya Rudolph, Leslie David Baker and Joel McHale.

Akin to many other puppeteering projects, all of the elevated sets utilised during production were built so that the puppeteers could stand on the ground and operate the puppets as if they were standing with straight arms. Yet, even with this information in mind, every set that appears on-screen feels like a real, lived-in location. Unfortunately, the rest of the visuals aren’t as remarkable, as the cinematography by Mitchell Amundsen is immensely bland, over-relying on over-lit close-ups and mid-shots that barely enrich the satire or mystery of the narrative.

Relatively tedious and generic, the bass-heavy original score by Christopher Lennert tries to reflect the jazzy scores of ’70s crime-thrillers yet rarely succeeds in forming any truly memorable tracks of its own. Similarly, songs like Sexy and I Know It and Low Rider seem almost arbitrary in their placements within the runtime, usually throwing off the tone of whatever scenes where they are featured.

In regard to the puppets themselves, it’s intriguing to note that a grand total of one hundred and twenty-five puppets were used during the film’s production, with around forty of those puppets being created specifically for the film. As a result, every puppet that emerges from scene to scene is visually unique, retaining its own colour, fabric, style, and personality. Once again, it’s just a shame that the gags and dialogue that emit from each felt character’s mouth are so sluggish, continuously giving off the impression that the film is trying far too hard to be risqué.

In summary, The Happytime Murders is a crime-comedy harbouring far too many lousy jokes, with the genuinely clever gags being few and far between. As such, the only thing that can be declared for certain when it comes to The Happytime Murders is the fact that with its countless scenes of drug-snorting and depraved puppet sex (not to mention an extremely drawn-out ejaculation sequence), it’s worth emphasising that this puppet-led comedy is not one for youngsters. Still, it’s not as if they’re missing out on much. Rating: low 4/10.

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The Devil All the Time (2020) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / 1 Comment

“Blessed Are Those That Hunger and Thirst for Righteousness.” – Reverend Preston Teagardin

A gripping yet troubling exposé of a period in history that frequently appears overly sanitised, 2020’s The Devil All the Time is a superb Netflix Original that utilises its relentlessly grim narrative, stellar all-star cast and period-accurate song choices to explore an underused setting in cinema; Southern Ohio in the 1950s. And, as a result, the film crafts an engaging and thought-provoking tale of backwoods preachers, religious zealots and broken, weathered souls witnessing the atrocities of a post-war world, replenished with sins that even faith is unable to wash away.

Plot Summary: In 1950s-era rural Southern Ohio, an assortment of crooked and sinister individuals intersect paths in the Midwestern town of Knockemstiff, a rustic, sparsely-populated cesspool teeming with corruption and brutality…

Co-written and directed by Antonio Campos (Buy It Now, Simon Killer, Christine), the screenplay for The Devil All the Time was adapted from the novel of the same name by Donald Ray Pollock, who, interestingly, actually performed the narration for the film, making the role his first-ever narrating position as he avoided performing the voiceover work for his own audiobooks. Similar to the original novel, a large majority of the story revolves around the real-life town of Knockemstiff, Ohio. Here, the non-linear narrative, which examines the violent vestiges of religious iconography, thrusts an array of devilish characters to encounter one another through differing scenarios, often resulting in horrific outcomes. In particular, the opening three arcs produce a distressing first act where death is seemingly always lurking around the corner. However, while most of the characters and their individual storylines are captivating, certain characters (and their continually fiendish actions) can appear somewhat underdeveloped due to a lack of screen-time, along with a few narrative details, namely, the subplot of Deputy Lee Bodecker accepting payments as a corrupt officer, not falling into place.

Regarding one of the finest aspects of the film, the central cast of Tom Holland, Robert Pattinson, Harry Melling, Bill Skarsgård and Sebastian Stan (among many others) are all exceptional in their various roles, with most of the cast’s accents seeming flawless, barring Holland and Pattinson’s accents, which come across as inconsistent and wildly over-the-top, respectively. The cast’s performances are only enriched by their usually well-written characters, however, as their unanswered prayers seem to eventually lead each of them to turmoil as they exist at a bleak point in history where treatments for diseases were scarce and a devastating World War had just wiped out millions, rendering religion to serve as the only recourse for most. What makes the characters more intriguing is that The Devil All the Time is also a multigenerational tale, beginning with the semi-protagonist, Arvin Russell, as a youngster before concluding the story with Arvin as an adult in his early twenties, all the while propelling Arvin and his step-sister, Lenora, to reckon with the ghosts of their parents’ past. That is not to say that any character is represented as exemplary, though, as during the final act, the primarily benevolent Arvin exercises his father’s vengeful tactics for a satisfyingly violent payoff.

In a rather bothersome decision, The Devil All the Time repeatedly feels compelled to remind the audience of earlier sequences in the story that mirror later moments. Yet, most of the time, these flickers of earlier scenes in the film are thoroughly unnecessary and quickly begin to grate on the audience. Aside from this annoyance, the editing and cinematography by Lol Crawley are serviceable, continually being enhanced by the terrific set design and set dressing, which makes every inch of the rundown town of Knockemstiff appear worn and ripe with religious imagery.

Alongside the original score by Danny Bensi and Saunder Jurriaans, which remains nuanced and unpretentious whilst still adding to the cruelty and suspense on-screen at many points, The Devil All the Time employs an extensive selection of traditional gospel tunes and ’50s-era songs, such as Washed in the Blood, The Three Bells and Honeycomb, all beneficially playing into the setting and underlying religious themes of the story with some of the more upbeat songs even prompting certain scenes to develop a moderately satirical tone.

Returning to the visuals, momentarily, crucifixion is a recurring image throughout the runtime, relating to the film’s central underlying theme of the conflict between belief and the horrors of the real world. For example, in the first act, Willard Russell discovers a bloodied, fly-infested serviceman crucified during his deployment on the Solomon Islands during World War II. This image changes the once godly soldier to a religiously apathetic, but more importantly, makes it apparent how closely savagery and sacrifice are exemplified through the image of Jesus Christ tortured on the cross. Later in the film, there is also a painting of Jesus Christ on the cross hanging on the wall in Arvin’s room, reminding the audience of this subtext.

In summary, whilst The Devil All the Time‘s ruthlessly pessimistic narrative can occasionally be harrowing to the point of punishment, much of the dour storytelling is offset by the strong work from the outstanding cast, whose performances are often so compelling they even redeem the rather conventional style of filmmaking the film adopts, which is unlikely to leave any audience member in awe. Still, The Devil All the Time is an effective, religion-centred thriller. Rating: 7/10.

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Villains (2019) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“Son, I’d Blow Your Brains Out if I Thought You Had Any.” – George

Engrossing, suspenseful and darkly humorous, Villains, released in 2019, is a fast-paced crime-thriller with a sharp comedic edge. Led by a quartet of strong performances, including the likes of Bill Skarsgård and Maika Monroe as the leading pair of romantically-entangled criminals, Villains has more than a few noteworthy elements. Alongside its many qualities, however, Villains also suffers from several shortcomings, mainly in regard to the lack of style in its visuals, despite what the film’s flamboyant promotional posters would lead you to believe.

Plot Summary: On the run after robbing a local gas station, amateur lovebird criminals, Mickey and Jules, find themselves breaking into a secluded house in search of a new set of wheels. But, upon entering the quaint abode, the pair discover that the home they have stumbled into is actually the residency of a sadistic couple with more than a few dark secrets…

While never outright frightening, Villains does have a surplus of tense sequences and bloody violence to quench one’s thirst for excitement. However, these stirring moments don’t persist into the third act, as Villains‘ story actually reaches its peak absurdity during the second act, and then opts for a quieter, more emotionally resonant third act to conclude its narrative. Admittedly, this is a rather jarring decision, and the film’s pacing does suffer as a result, but it undeniably works in the characters’ favour. Furthermore, whilst not filled to the brim with plot twists and narrative subversions, the first act of Villains features enough twists and turns that I would advise those going in to go in blind as possible to get the full impact of the reveals.

Headed southbound for a fresh start in the sunshine state of Florida, the central couple of Mickey and Jules, portrayed by Bill Skarsgård and Maika Monroe, are surprisingly likeable characters in spite of being wanted criminals. Monroe is the most charismatic she’s ever been in her role as Jules, whilst Skarsgård portrays Mickey as a goofy yet considerate partner, delivering some of the film’s most amusing lines of dialogue. The pair could have easily been depicted as despicable, but Monroe and Skarsgård imbue them with such warmth and earnestness that you can’t help but root for them. As for the demented homeowners, George and Gloria, portrayed by Jeffrey Donovan and Kyra Minturn, are charismatic yet equally intimidating, portraying their characters with a subdued sense of lunacy as opposed to being overly insane to an almost comical degree. On top of the terrific performances, all of the characters receive an adequate amount of development. I’d even go so far as to say it’s unfortunate that the runtime isn’t a little longer to further flesh out the characters, as the hints of backstory we receive for some of them (particularly Gloria) are both tragic and fascinating.

Visually, Villains is somewhat flat, as the cinematography by Matt Mitchell largely relies on unremarkable close-up and mid-shots without much innovation or implementation of style. Excluding the end credits, that is, which are vibrant and chaotic, emulating a skater-like art style through its animation and font choices. Luckily, the production design fairs better than the camerawork as George and Gloria’s house is uniquely coated in 1960s decor, complete with radiant colours and a vintage television. All of the outfits that the psychotic couple sport also play into this ’60s aesthetic. Moreover, writers-directors Dan Berk and Robert Olsen (Body, The Stakelander) effectively utilise the setting of George and Gloria’s home, establishing the geography of their house scene by scene so the audience has a clear understanding of where each character is in relation to one another during the many cat-and-mouse chase sequences.

The original score by Andrew Hewitt is regrettably rather generic, boasting several tracks that sound as if they were lifted from various scores from a selection of genres, from mysteries to horrors. But, on a more positive note, Villains does make sufficient use of a number of soothing instrumental pieces, such as The Free Life, Time for Romance and Looking Back on Love, which all serve as excellent contrasts to the on-screen violence and grim setup of the narrative.

Upon first viewing, it quickly becomes apparent that Villains takes a lot of influence from other crime flicks. Most notably for its protagonists, Mickey and Jules, as the pair share many similarities to the couple; Pumpkin and Honey Bunny from the opening and closing scenes of the quintessential crime flick; Pulp Fiction, released in 1994. The film even pays tribute to this specific influence through a small Easter egg, as if you look closely, you can see that Mickey has a tattoo on his wrist of Stuntman Mike’s car from 2007’s Death Proof, another flick directed by Quentin Tarantino.

In summary, Villains is an entertaining crime-thriller, but it’s also a film that continuously feels as if it’s on the cusp of something extraordinary, yet it never quite reaches whatever that may be. While the performances are solid and the plot is engaging, the almost total absence of style and flair is exceedingly difficult to ignore. Still, Villains has enough of its own offbeat energy to avoid merely coming across as an assemblage of two young filmmakers’ cinematic influences, which is more than can be said for many modern releases. Rating: 6/10.

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Thoroughbreds (2017) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“The Only Thing Worse Than Being Incompetent, or Being Unkind, or Being Evil, Is Being Indecisive.” – Amanda

Originally written for the stage, 2017’s Thoroughbreds juggles many conflicting tones, but does so with such panache and charm that it’s rare to find deficiencies within its tonal shifts. With a straightforward yet deeply engrossing plot, elegant visuals and a pair of top-notch performances from Olivia Cooke and Anya Taylor-Joy, Thoroughbreds delivers a sharply written and refreshingly unpredictable entry into the black comedy genre. Placing far more emphasis on its characters and their internal issues than anything other black comedy in recent memory.

Plot Summary: In suburban Connecticut, a pair of childhood friends reconnect after many years when the sharply-witted sociopath, Amanda, arrives at the residence of the wealthy and academically inclined, Lily, for a private tutoring session. After rekindling their friendship, however, Lily soon learns of Amanda’s peculiar philosophy, prompting the pair to hatch a plan to solve both their problems, a plan that begins with the murder of Lily’s detestable stepfather…

Stuck in limbo for almost two years, the production of Thoroughbreds technically ceased in mid-2016, yet the film wasn’t released into cinemas until March 9th, 2018. This was due to several factors, but most notably, this was a result of the film’s lengthy and extensive festival circuit in 2017. During this festival run, Thoroughbreds received many positive reactions, which in a way, surprises me, as even though the plot of Thoroughbreds may sound like a set-up for a compelling thriller, the plot twists and suspenseful moments are never the main attributes of the film. Instead, Thoroughbreds is far more focused on having its characters use their words to eke the darkness out of one another, which ultimately leads to an outcome that, in its theatricality, may feel anticlimactic to some. But, for others, will feel like a unique take on what could’ve been a poorly executed sequence for a lower-budget crime-thriller.

The two central characters of Amanda and Lily, expertly portrayed by Olivia Cooke and Anya Taylor-Joy, are unquestionably the primary focus of Thoroughbreds, with much of the runtime being spent developing the pair and depicting many of the similarities and differences between their respective personalities. For instance, since their early days of horseback riding, Lily has turned into a polished, upper-class teenager with outstanding grades and a coveted internship on her resume. Meanwhile, Amanda has developed a strong sense of perception and a stern attitude, all in the process of becoming a social outcast and unregistered sociopath, which is flawlessly depicted through Cooke’s impassive performance. Sadly, Thoroughbreds was also the final project to feature a terrific performance from actor, Anton Yelchin, as the small-time drug dealer, Tim, before his tragic death on June 19th, 2016, at the age of twenty-seven. As such, the film is dedicated to him.

Despite writer-director Cory Finley (Bad Education) bearing a more extensive background in theatre than filmmaking, Finley displays a natural cinematic instinct right from the opening scene. Depicting the baroque, marble-lined mansion where Lily, her mother and her stepfather reside as more of a prison than a utopia, as the cinematography by Lyle Vincent stalks through the location in lengthy, restless takes. Lingering on specific elements, such as an SUV driving up the gravel driveway or two characters staring at each other from adjacent rooms. Furthermore, the visuals retain a surprisingly vibrant colour palette when considering the grim nature of the story, utilising luminous whites, greens and greys for the majority of the runtime.

For the original score, composer, Erik Friedlander, manipulated various instruments to achieve a number of atonal sounds like boinks and sproings, which all serve as disconcerting counterpoints to the refined visuals. And while there are many excellent tracks throughout the seemingly unstructured score as a result of these unusual sounds, the final track; Win Win, is undoubtedly the best track of the original score, concluding the black comedy on a bittersweet note thanks in part to the optimistic piece.

Bleak yet direct in its underlying commentary on the turmoil of being a teenager in the modern world, Thoroughbreds takes the problems of the young and privileged and explores them through the narrative. With many teenagers (particularly teenage girls) often being told to act or react in specific ways, this story of two girls who are both removed yet acutely aware of their emotions is something to be appreciated in modern character studies. Still, as a consequence of this gradual exploration of the two central characters, I believe many audience members will be turned off by the film on account of its slow pacing and total lack of on-screen violence. However, that’s not to say that I agree with these conceivable criticisms, as even with Thoroughbreds‘ slow pacing, I actually feel that the runtime could’ve been slightly extended, providing more time for characterisation in the first act before the girls reunite.

In summary, Thoroughbreds is a quirky, darkly comedic and entertaining crime-thriller anchored by some exceptional performances and praiseworthy filmmaking. Although the film may not be for everyone given its harsh perspective on teenage life, shortage of blood/gore and frequently slow pacing, Thoroughbreds‘ lavish presentation and snappy dialogue are immensely effective. To the point that the screenplay even manages to make the audience empathise with a character that is completely incapable of empathy, which is a rather impressive feat. Rating: 8/10.

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Knives Out (2019) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“It’s a Weird Case From the Start. A Case With a Hole in the Center… A Doughnut.” – Detective Benoit Blanc

A brilliant spin on the well-worn formula of kindred murder mysteries, 2019’s Knives Out is a charming, captivating and hilarious film from beginning to end. Functioning as both a subversive whodunit as well as a modernised homage to the prominent works of crime-fiction author, Agatha Christie, Knives Out offers the kind of classy entertainment we could use more of on the silver screen as the film, through its all-around marvellous cast, excellent direction and witty dialogue, quickly overcomes the one or two minor flaws it has to thoroughly immerse its audience in a delectable delicacy of a mystery and its affiliated suspects.

Plot Summary: When renowned crime novelist, Harlan Thrombey, is found dead in his study on the night of his eighty-fifth birthday, the inquisitive and debonair, Detective Benoit Blanc, is enlisted to investigate his passing. Now, in a mansion full of potential suspects, from Harlan’s dysfunctional family to his devoted staff, Detective Blanc must sift through a tangled web of red herrings and self-serving lies to uncover the truth behind Harlan’s untimely death…

Written and directed by Rian Johnson (Brick, Looper, Star Wars: Episode VIII – The Last Jedi), the plot of Knives Out follows one of the most timeworn formats in the whodunit playbook; as family members and associates gather after a rich patriarch dies under mysterious circumstances. And although many of them may act like they want to uncover who’s responsible for the premature death of their loved one, in reality, they’re far more interested in knowing how much they stand to gain monetarily from said loved one’s death. However, at many points, Knives Out actually acknowledges its audience’s familiarity with this formula, battling against it by integrating a series of compelling twists and turns into its story. So, even if you’ve already guessed who isn’t responsible, it won’t be easy to deduce who is. Furthermore, it soon becomes clear that Rian Johnson has more than just murder and mysteries on his mind, as Knives Out quietly threads political commentary into its narrative through the family’s conversations concerning immigration and the many shades of venality, exposing an entirely different side to the ignorance and pride of the Thrombey family.

With an enormous ensemble cast featuring Daniel Craig, Ana de Armas, Chris Evans, Jamie Lee Curtis, Don Johnson, Michael Shannon, Toni Collette, Katherine Langford, LaKeith Stanfield, Riki Lindhome and Christopher Plummer, it’s understandable that a few of the actors and/or characters would be misspent. And this is most apparent with the character, Jacob Thrombey, portrayed by Jaeden Martell as beyond serving a single plot point and a handful of jokes, Jacob, and by default, Martell, has little screen-time, very few lines and the least development of any member of the family, making his inclusion seem rather pointless. Detective Blanc also brings two police underlings with him to solve the case, neither of whom makes much of an impression. Still, every member of the cast somehow manages to make their character feel distinguishable when placed alongside the others, from the bohemian Instagram influencer, Joni Thrombey, to the foul-mouthed freeloader, Ransom Drysdale, Harlan’s entire family is relentlessly amusing as they continuously squabble with each other despite pretending they are on the same side.

The gothic abode in which Detective Blanc’s suspects are confined is an interesting location for a murder mystery, to say the least, as Harlan Thrombey’s gigantic mansion is not only unique exterior-wise, but inside, is decorated with antique furniture and an assortment of ghoulish accoutrements, including crystal skulls, oil paintings, artwork that resembles giant eyeballs and, of course, a large metal ring of knives and other sharp implements. All of this elegant set design greatly adds to the already pleasing visuals of Steve Yedlin’s cinematography, but there’s no denying that characters and humour are certainly the biggest draws of Knives Out as a whole.

By that same token, the original score by Nathan Johnson (Rian Johnson’s cousin) never overshadows the comedy or drama unfolding on-screen, but instead enhances it. Matching the highbrow, old-fashioned style of Harlan’s grand mansion, the symphonic score plays more like a concerto for strings than a traditional film soundtrack. With tracks like Knives Out! (String Quartet in G Minor), Like Father, Like Son and The Thrombey Family Theme, all being wonderful pieces of classical pastiche dripping with a rich gothic atmosphere.

Interestingly, Nathan was not the only member of Rian Johnson’s extended family to assist in the production of Knives Out, as Rian also brought on board two further cousins of his; Mark Johnson, who created the film’s opening titles and designed a font based on a series of Agatha Christie paperbacks, and Zack Johnson, who painted the cast portraits seen in the end credits. Further adding to the film’s high-class stylings and inadvertently tieing into the story’s focus on familial relations.

In summary, Knives Out is a sly, wry and stylish throwback to the murder mysteries of yesteryear, with a splashing of self-aware humour to boot. Updating the genre for modern audiences whilst simultaneously satisfying fans of the classic whodunits, Knives Out demonstrates (in a similar sense to many contemporary westerns), that some of the genres we may perceive as defunct are, in actuality, still far from gone, and that we could potentially see more from these less prevalent, but immensely enjoyable genres, in the future. Rating: 8/10.

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Leatherface (2017) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“You Messed With the Wrong Family…” – Verna Sawyer

Considering the monumental impact of the original, Texas Chainsaw Massacre in the annals of horror cinema, it’s peculiar that the film’s ensuing franchise has had such an erratic history, bouncing from excessively jokey entries like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 in 1986 to absolutely bonkers ones such as Texas Chainsaw: The Next Generation in 1995. 2017’s Leatherface continues this trend by once again attempting something different; aiming to be a prequel that explores the origins of the face-wearing menace himself. Unfortunately, however, even though the film has good intentions, Leatherface only succeeds in replicating the skin of a Texas Chainsaw Massacre flick and non of the guts within as the journey its titular character embarks upon ultimately doesn’t feel worth the eighty-seven-minute runtime.

Plot Summary: In 1955, the young, Jedediah Sawyer, is assigned the task of luring an unsuspecting traveller into his family’s decrepit barn for the sake of blood. But, when it turns out that this unfortunate victim was actually the lone daughter of Texas ranger, Hal Hartman, Jedediah is forcibly separated from his family and placed in a mental institution. Ten years later, the now near-adult, Jedediah, along with a handful of criminally insane inmates, manage to escape the asylum during a riot, beginning a journey of murder and turmoil as the group trudges across rural Texas, evading the vengeful ranger pursuing them…

Directed by Alexandre Bustillo and Julien Maury (Inside, Among the Living, The Deep House). Leatherface is, for all its flaws, at least an earnest attempt at franchise course correction, avoiding another reboot of the series to instead tell a story that tries to connect a few dots in the very tangled web of this horror franchise. Needless to say, being a prequel, Leatherface still suffers from the usual problem most prequels do: explaining things that don’t need explanation. As in the original film, Leatherface stands out because he is a complete enigma even in a family of cannibalistic lunatics. We never receive answers to any of the questions we have about him as Leatherface simply exists, which is what makes him so terrifying. So, naturally, exploring his backstory diminishes that aspect. Furthermore, with Leatherface being just one member of a homicidal family, a prequel would be a great opportunity to develop some of the lesser-explored members of the Sawyer family such as the Proprietor, the Hitchhiker and Grandpa Sawyer, yet none of their backstories are even hinted at.

Despite their frequently flat dialogue, the film’s main cast of Sam Strike, Vanessa Grasse, Sam Coleman Jessica Madsen, James Bloor and Stephen Dorff all throw themselves into their respective characters with confidence as once Jedediah finds himself inside the mental institution, he encounters several intriguing patients. From the silent brute, Bud, to the callous couple, Ike and Clarice, all of whom make members of the Sawyer family look sane by comparison. Then there is the idealistic nurse, Lizzy, who essentially serves as the story’s final girl, yet due to a severe lack of development similar to many of the other characters, it does become increasingly difficult to empathise with her outside of just acknowledging her horrific situation. However, the highlight of the cast is undoubtedly Lili Taylor as Verna Sawyer, the family matriarch who is bursting with pride for her boys, but devoted to the point where every outsider is seen as an adversary.

When it comes to the visuals, even though Leatherface wasn’t actually shot in America, but instead in Bulgaria for budgetary reasons. The film does utilise its varied colour palette along with natural lighting to create an effective and convincing backdrop of back-country Texas, giving cinematographer, Antoine Sanier, plenty of opportunities to integrate creative shots, including a shot that references the extreme low-angle dolly shot from the original film.

Regrettably, the original score by John Frizzell isn’t quite as remarkable as the soundtrack rarely breaks the mould of a typical horror soundscape, being rather forgettable outside of the score’s occasional use of a chainsaw-like rumble. Numerous songs from the 1960s can also be heard throughout the film such as Leave Me Alone, Working on the Line and Don’t Take Me for Granted, which help further ground the story in the ’60s time period alongside the lavish costume and production design.

On another note, for those who desire graphic violence, there is a commendable amount of gore in Leatherface even if the film is more plot-driven than kill-driven. Still, I will always prefer minimal gore over a constant bombardment of blood when it comes to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre franchise as whilst no sequel, prequel or spin-off will ever be able to recapture the ominous tone and documentary-like feel of the 1974 classic, having minimal violence does at least make any later entry in the series seem closer to the original’s deceptive absence of on-screen brutality.

In summary, Leatherface is repulsive and disturbing much like the original film. The only difference is that The Texas Chainsaw Massacre also relied on intrigue and an eerie atmosphere to back up many of its horrifying concepts, whereas Leatherface does not. And while the film does admittedly deserve some credit for doing something different with the franchise, being the eighth instalment in this ongoing series, it’s apparent that Leatherface and his chainsaw slayings are starting to wear thin, becoming less and less enthralling each time they return to the silver screen. Rating: high 3/10.

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Molly’s Game (2017) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“You Know What Makes You Feel Okay About Losing? Winning.” – Molly Bloom

Following his many triumphs as an Oscar-nominated screenwriter, in 2017 Aaron Sorkin took a seat in the director’s chair for the first time in his career. And just like many of his previous writing efforts, his impressive directorial debut; Molly’s Game, was based on the exploits of a real-life figure. Adapting the memoir of the same name by Molly Bloom, the self-proclaimed; “Poker Princess,” who became the subject of tabloid infamy in 2007 when she was outed as the brains behind a prestigious underground poker tournament frequented by celebrities, CEOs and mobsters alike.

Plot Summary: When a catastrophic injury robs her of a promising sports career and a long-coveted Olympic medal, former competitive skier, Molly Bloom, moves to Los Angeles to take a year out and avoid attending law school. But shortly after arriving, Molly discovers that the quickest way to achieve success is through the world of high-stakes poker, building herself up through the ranks of deep-pocketed celebrities and the corporate elite as she hosts weekly poker nights, soon drawing the attention of the Russian mob and the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Now, facing a variety of federal charges, Molly’s only hope rests in the capable hands of the criminal defence lawyer, Charlie Jaffey, who learns there is more to Molly Bloom than meets the eye…

Premiering at the Toronto Film Festival in 2017. Molly’s Game was the first film to be both written and directed by Aaron Sorkin, as previously mentioned. And although the screenplay itself isn’t as unique as some of Sorkin’s other work, with A Few Good Men, The Social Network, Moneyball and Steve Jobs being just some of the immensely well-received and Oscar-nominated/winning biopics Sorkin has written in the past. The screenplay for Molly’s Game still crackles and excites at many points as the writing is quick-witted and frequently goes into extreme detail whenever Molly recounts parts of her story, subsequently earning Sorkin another Oscar nomination in 2018 for Best Adapted Screenplay.

Real-world entrepreneur and author, Molly Bloom, actually told Aaron Sorkin that she wanted actress Jessica Chastain to portray her should a film adaptation of her story ever be made. And it seems that this was certainly the right call in retrospect as Chastain perfectly expresses resolve and vulnerability in her role as Molly, portraying a woman who uses her intellect as a weapon. Carving her own path as she leans into her former career as a competitive skier to fuel her drive to succeed as high achieving doesn’t even come close to the grand ambitions she harbours. Nevertheless, years later, after leaving the world of poker behind, Molly is still far from free as she is arrested by The Federal Bureau of Investigation on tentative crimes, which is where Charlie Jaffey comes into the story, excellently portrayed by Idris Elba. Additionally, Kevin Costner and Michael Cera give superb performances as Molly’s father and Player X, respectively. The latter being a professional actor and adept poker player who, despite having his real name disclosed, is widely believed to be based on Tobey Maguire.

While the cinematography by Charlotte Bruus Christensen does tend to over-rely on mid-shots and close-ups now and then, Molly’s Game still contains some admirable shots whenever the film decides to fully indulge in its visuals. Specifically, whenever the story brings us back to the poker table as there the film utilises many on-screen graphics to visually display the fundamentals of poker, in the event that some audience members (such as myself) aren’t familiar with the game’s regulations, sidestepping the need for lengthy scenes of poker-related specification. Furthermore, the editing frequently attempts to keep pace with the dialogue, occasionally even employing archive footage when Molly goes into certain topics, giving the film a terrific sense of style.

On a similar note, the original score by Daniel Pemberton is a fast-paced soundtrack that varies between light synthetic rock and electronic dance. This means tracks like Staring Down a Mountain, Molly’s Journey, House of Cards and Therapy Session, make for a dazzling mixture of electronic and more classical compositions. However, that doesn’t mean there aren’t slow tracks, as both Molly’s Dream and Scars are far slower and more melodic, with Molly’s Dream, in particular, explicitly featuring a piano, a marked contrast from the bulk of the score.

Interestingly, due to Aaron Sorkin’s constant focus on realism, right down to the way players handled their cards during games, all of the extras seen during the poker games are actually professional poker players. According to Sorkin, the cast could often be seen playing poker between takes with the professional players. This meant that the extras (who are usually paid around £65 for a twelve-hour workday) were usually some of the highest-paid individuals on set.

In summary, Molly’s Game is a film that in the grand scheme of well-acted biopics, won’t demolish the competition, but is a well-crafted and entertaining film, nonetheless. Especially for fans of Sorkin, its one-hundred and forty-minute runtime will fly by as this delve into a world of glamour, privilege and gambling is just as compelling as Sorkin’s other screenplays, perhaps even more so in some aspects. If you’re a little exasperated with Sorkin’s self-satisfied writing, however, then Molly’s Game isn’t likely to change your mind. Rating: low 8/10.

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Extraction (2020) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“If You Want to Survive, You Will Do Exactly as I Say.” – Tyler Rake

Based on the graphic novel; Ciudad by Ande Parks, which in itself was based on an unproduced screenplay written by Joe Russo in 2014. 2020’s Extraction transfers the story it’s adapting from the Paraguayan city of Ciudad Del Este to Dhaka in Bangladesh whilst still indulging in all of the same barbaric violence and exciting action set pieces. Yet, despite its spectacular stunt work, impressive long takes and electric performance from Chris Hemsworth, Extraction isn’t entirely saved from its generic complexion, as the film frequently falls back on many of the usual tropes we tend to see in modern action flicks.

Plot Summary: In an underworld of weapons dealers and traffickers, Ovi Mahajan, the son of a notorious drug lord, becomes the pawn in a war between two criminal syndicates. Now, held hostage by a group of kidnappers in one of the world’s most impenetrable cities, his rescue beckons the unparalleled skill of black-market mercenary, Tyler Rake, a broken man with nothing to lose, harbouring a death wish that makes an already dangerous mission near impossible…

Extraction marks the feature-length directorial debut of Avengers: Endgame stunt coordinator/second unit director, Sam Hargrave, who producers, Joe and Anthony Russo, hand-picked to helm the project following their collaboration on the superhero blockbuster. Meaning, of course, that Hargrave’s profession as a stunt coordinator (and stunt double) repeatedly comes into focus as each of the film’s action sequences are relentlessly thrilling and well-orchestrated. If truth be told, however, most of Extraction‘s faults come not from its directing, but rather its screenplay, as, in many ways, Extraction‘s screenplay is structured much like a video game, continuously introducing new ‘boss levels’ that Tyler must complete before advancing, such as a corrupt general who also happens to be the country’s best sniper. Quickly equalling to tiring formula, especially when the film introduces the odd interesting idea, such as a subplot focusing on a troubled teenager taking his first steps into the world of organised crime.

Although Chris Hemsworth gives an admirable performance as the film’s protagonist, Tyler Rake, a fearless mercenary and former SASR operator, discreetly mourning the loss of his son who died from lymphoma. The character’s promising (if a little cliché) set-up is soon spoilt by the complete lack of development from that point onwards as Tyler essentially goes nowhere after the groundwork for his character is laid, cementing him as a by-the-book action hero and nothing more. Surprising, considering that Extraction was effectively conceived as a star vehicle for Hemsworth, a remarkable actor who has struggled to obtain a signature role outside of Thor Odinson. On the flip of this, there is the school-age son of a Mumbai drug lord, Ovi Mahajan, portrayed by Rudhraksh Jaiswal, who serves his purpose as an innocent child caught in the crossfire between two gangs. It’s just unfortunate that the film tries to build a parental relationship between the two, merely reminding the audience how paper-thin its characters are.

When overlooking the murky, displeasing colour palette, a majority of the visuals throughout Extraction are spellbinding as the film uses its dynamic, hand-held cinematography by Newton Thomas Sigel to place the audience alongside the characters in the busy streets of Dhaka. Having Tyler grapple with corrupt police officers while tuk-tuks and scooters disorderly rush past, a feeling that is only amplified by the film’s multiple one-takes. One of said takes, which clocks in at around eleven minutes and twenty-nine seconds, is, in actuality, comprised of thirty-six stitched sequences, some of which took over twenty-five takes to line up correctly, according to Sam Hargrave.

Regrettably, the original score by Henry Jackman and Alex Belcher isn’t as innovative as the soundtrack almost solely consists of indistinguishable ostinato-driven action tracks such as Police Search and Checkpoint, all of which have a heavy emphasis on percussion, with only the occasional pause for breath. And whilst there is no standout theme, as such, Extraction does have an effective little motif that runs through some of the tracks to give the score a bit of personality.

Naturally, the action sequences of Extraction are what the majority of the film hinders. And luckily, they do deliver, being brutal, bloody and fast-paced as dissimilar to characters like John Wick, whose fighting style is inherently tactical and calculated, Tyler Rake engages in combat far more spontaneously, improvising weapons and thinking on his feet whenever he is thrown into a dangerous scenario. As previously mentioned, the film’s camerawork also amplifies many of these exhilarating moments, particularly one car chase sequence, during which, Sam Hargrave actually manned the camera himself whilst he was strapped to the hood of the vehicle pursuing Tyler and Ovi.

In summary, Extraction is slightly contrived and sporadically over-the-top, and there’s no question that the film’s characters are essentially just cardboard cutouts delivering line after line of uninspired dialogue. In fact, for most of its runtime, Extraction almost feels as if you’re watching someone play a video game, which as I’m sure any video game enthusiast will tell you, is only amusing for a short time. But, purely in terms of action, Hargrave and the Russo Brothers bring the noise with a film fueled by the charisma and physicality of its star, suggesting that Hemsworth has found his genre once he retires his iconic superhero persona. Rating: high 6/10.

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Upgrade (2018) – Film Review

/ Joe Baker / Leave a comment

“You Upgraded. Now, You’re Stronger, Faster, Better Than Everyone Else.” – Fisk

Recently gaining a large amount of traction through his reinterpretation of the horror classic; The Invisible Man, in 2020, writer and director Lee Whannell first proved himself a talented filmmaker with Upgrade in 2018. A riveting sci-fi-thriller that combines elements of Black Mirror, Minority Report and 1990s action flicks to construct a gripping yet dreary tale of revenge, morality and technology through detailed world-building and stimulating action sequences, promptly overcoming its handful of minor glitches.

Plot Summary: In the near future, technology controls almost every aspect of day-to-day life as the world relies on artificial intelligence to complete even the most basic of tasks. As a result, the old-school, tech-shy mechanic, Grey Trace, feels like a fish out of water in an ever-changing world. But, after a brutal assault leaves Grey paralysed and his beloved wife dead, he’s approached by the reclusive tech mogul, Eron Keen, who offers him a solution; a powerful microchip named, STEM, that will bridge the gap between his mind and unresponsive limbs. Now, able to walk once again, Grey decides to seek revenge against the thugs who destroyed his life…

Originally titled; STEM. Upgrade was Whannell’s first project outside of the horror genre, being best known beforehand for his collaborations with writer-director James Wan, co-writing and starring in both the Saw and Insidious series. And for being the first time Whannell has truly stepped out of Wan’s shadow, Upgrade immediately proves Whannell to be a more than capable director with a distinct style, a style that certainly wasn’t displayed in his directorial debut; Insidious: Chapter 3, three years prior. Upgrade also exhibits Whannell’s almost tongue-in-cheek approach to writing, with some scenes feeling as if they’ve been ripped straight from an ’80s buddy-cop comedy as Grey humorously argues with the artificial intelligence residing inside his body. This isn’t to say that the film is light-hearted, however, as Upgrade is, in reality, quite the opposite, never shying away from bloody, squirm-inducing violence even with its surprisingly modest budget.

With regard to the cast, Logan Marshall-Green gives a very ranged performance as the protagonist, Grey Trace. Quickly established as a technophobe whose main devotions in life are mechanical tinkering and his beautiful wife, Asha Grey. That is before the seemingly unprompted assault leaves him crippled, alone and infuriated by his situation to the point of attempted suicide. Then, once receiving STEM, Grey begins to express far more concern regarding how much bodily control he’s handed over, with Marshall-Green’s performance becoming far more physically demanding as he slowly loses control of his own body. Harrison Gilbertson and Simon Maiden as Eron Keen and the voice of STEM, respectively, also play their parts well, with Maiden doing a particularly terrific job at giving STEM a soothing yet simultaneously menacing voice.

However, one of the greatest components of Upgrade is by far its zestful cinematography by Stefan Duscio, as after obtaining STEM, the camera itself visually mirrors Grey’s newly acquired agility/coordination by wildly tilting with every movement Grey makes, keeping him in the centre of the frame at all times to provide the audience with a unique perspective without sacrificing visibility as a result. Furthermore, despite the story being set in America, Upgrade was actually filmed in Melbourne, Australia, this location was chosen in order to take advantage of the city’s gothic architecture, giving the film an expansive backdrop not too dissimilar to that of Minority Report and The Matrix sequels. However, unlike those films, Upgrade does occasionally run into the issue of its sci-fi world feeling slightly inconsistent between shots as the city’s slick, looming skyscrapers almost seem out-of-place when compared to the graffitied and dilapidated warehouses on street level.

Managing to be moody, suspenseful and tranquil, occasionally even all at the same time. Jed Palmer’s original score is more than fitting for a film like Upgrade as the electronic score echoes films like Blade Runner during its quieter moments through tracks such as Aftermath and A Better Place before the more action-orientated cues kick in, that is, with tracks like We Can’t Let Them Win and Control. The sound design throughout the film is equally excellent, with every thrust and slash hitting hard during the various action sequences.

On that note, Upgrade‘s absurdly well-executed action set pieces are possibly some of the finest the sci-fi genre has seen in a long time. As not only does the camera ceaselessly track Grey, as previously mentioned, but the fight choreography is almost faultless. It’s also during these scenes that the cutting-edge technology of Upgrade‘s criminal underworld first appears, from bio-mechanically-implanted firearms to memory-retaining contact lenses and even a weaponised nanotech sneeze, The Upgraded (as they are nicknamed) are essentially seen as the next stage of human evolution, blatantly showing the audience the true extent to which humanity now relies on technology.

In summary, even though Upgrade is guilty of playing into some overly familiar ideas with its story being based around the well-trodden concept of artificial intelligence outmatching humanity. There are enough twists and turns within its narrative to ensure that the film will hold up upon multiple viewings, serving as an exciting and stylish sci-fi-thriller in addition to providing undeniable evidence that exchanging one genre for another is a risky yet rewarding road when it comes to certain filmmakers. Rating: 8/10.

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