Halloween (2018) - Review

 

After 40 years of lackluster sequels (“H20”, “Halloween: Resurrection”), bizarre reinterpretations (“Halloween (2007)”), and good films marred by franchise association (“Halloween III: Season of the Witch”), Jamie Lee Curtis and John Carpenter are back, along with writer/director David Gordon Green (“Pineapple Express”, “Stronger”, “Prince Avalanche”) and writers Danny McBride (“Pineapple Express”, “This is the End”) and Jeff Fradley (“Vice Principals”) to retcon everything and bring you the true sequel to “Halloween (1978)”: the aptly titled “Halloween (2018).”

Despite a relatively short length of one hour and forty minutes, “Halloween” takes a bit to get going. While it’s great to hear about Laurie’s life and what she’s been up to in the forty years since the original film, the first thirty minutes just feel stretch out. The two podcasters who try to interview Myers are fine enough, and the fact that they are podcasters making an episode on Myers helps to provide context to the previous film’s events.

But they also feel a bit inconsequential, as they’re around for maybe twenty minutes and then they no longer are. It leaves their story feeling like nothing more than an easy way to provide context. A great way to add context, but lackluster all the same.

Given that this is a slasher film, things pick up and really become entertaining once the lashing begins. The reveal of Myers’s and his beloved mask is wonderfully done, and his initial escapades are tense and delightfully brutal, thanks to excellent use of the unbroken shot technique from cinematographer Michael Simmonds (“Nerve,” “Paranormal Activity 2”).

Jamie Lee Curtis (“Freaky Friday (2003),” “A Fish Called Wanda”) delivers a harden performance as the PTSD stricken Laurie Strode, and while no one equals her excellent performance, the rest of the cast are more than capable. Judy Greer (“Archer,” “Ant-Man”) overcomes a rocky introduction and establishes Strode’s daughter as just as fierce as her mother. Will Patton also does a fine job as Officer Frank Hawkins. The supporting cast isn’t anything to writer home about, but are perfectly passable.

However, its Andi Matichak, a relative unknown, completely steals the show. Not only does she confidently maneuver her way through a boring high school subplot, but she does so while still maintaining a great performance. Her role as Allyson, Strode’s granddaughter, is easily comparable to Curtis’s performance in the 1978 original: immediately memorable.

This sequel may be retconning everything that isn’t the original film, but the writers are clearly still having fun with the subject material. There’s fan service around almost every corner, be it a shot constructed to look exactly like a previous film’s, or sly winks and nods when certain lines are uttered.

It is also worth noting that, while a lot of interesting ideas are brought up, none are answered. Multiple times the idea of Michael’s refusal to speak is mentioned, as well as what makes him want to kill. They’re mentioned and never answered, but it feels intentional. Almost like the writers were deliberately pointing out the futility of trying to pick apart something as iconically, all-encompassingly evil as Michael Myers.

It may have a rocky first act and forgettable supporting characters, but once the third act begins and Myers has his true goal in his sights, everything climbs to perfection. The last thirty minutes may be one of the most expertly constructed third acts in cinema this year. The tension is palpable, and every creak is enough to make the audience jump.

Finally, a worthy successor to the original 1978 classic and just a good “Halloween (1978)” sequel period. This new take on the franchise smartly doles out its murders and fan service in such an expert way. By the time the third act comes, the stage is set for a confrontation of epic proportions. Sure, the first act is weak, and most of the supporting cast are clear fodder for Myer’s murderous ways. But when blood starts to spill, and Carpenter’s iconic score starts to play, there’s something almost magical in watching Mikey set free to play. 4/5

First Man - Review

 

Despite being the first man to walk on the moon, Neil Armstrong is a relatively quiet person. You’d think that with his monumental achievement, that fundamentally changed history, he would be more boastful about it. But no, he’s a calm and reserved person, unlike what most would likely think. Damien Chazelle’s (“La La Land”, “Whiplash”) latest film pulls that complicated persona off flawlessly.

“First Man” is a long film. At 141 minutes, it pushes the limits of what most audiences are willing to accept with no pre-established canon. However, Chazelle succeeds where others have failed by filling his movie with something that most studio executives would shudder to think of: visual and auditory silence.

Like “A Quiet Place” earlier this year, much of “First Man” is silent. Not as extensively as in the former, but this allows Chazelle to craft silence at just the right moment. It never fails to underscore something, large or small, and provides a wonderful symmetry with the endless silence of space. This is slightly ironic, as the film’s musical score, from Justin Hurwitz (“La La Land”, “Whiplash”) is extremely impactful.

Chazelle also uses negative space in a way that’s unlike any other mainstream film in recent memory. Obviously, the scenes set in space have an abundance of dark to them, but Chazelle and cinematographer Linus Sandgren (“La La Land”, “American Hustle”) work to create a lack of light on earth that’s just as pronounced as in space.

This lack of light and emphasis on darkness help to underscore and visualize the isolated nature of, not only Armstrong’s life, but the job he’s attempting to do. “First Man” does a wonderful job of sympathizing with Neil, before ripping the carpet from beneath audiences and asking “But how can you possibly comprehend what he had to do?”

Endless credit goes to Ryan Gosling (“The Nice Guys,” “La La Land”), who, as Neil Armstrong, manages to give a commanding performance filed with emotional isolation without ever feeling wooden. Like his performance in last year’s “Blade Runner 2049”, its in his ability to allow lighter moments, excited moments, to seep through the cracks of this guarded persona in such natural ways that create such a believable and excellent crafted performance.

Claire Foy (“The Crown,” “Unsane”) also commands the screen whenever she’s on it, elevating what could have been a simple “anxious wife” role to new heights thanks to her sheer talent, and writer Josh Singer’s (“The Post”, “Spotlight”) seeming refusal to allow her to be brought down to that level. Giving her agency and ability within the neighborhood and by showing what could become of her family, Foy gives what is yet another excellent performance in a year with so many already.

Its, quite frankly, a bizarre thing to make a movie about when breaking it down. Films at their core rely on empathy from audience so they can connect with characters and end up liking them. Empathy often comes from shared experiences, and while most films feature extreme elements, audiences go into those films, expecting those elements. Sure, it may be impossible to shot a rocket at a large purple space tyrant, but you can go and see a rocket being fired and feel the impact.

The moon is just not that simple. Therein lies the greatest accomplishment of Chazelle’s latest work. It asks for empathy for its subject, and then asks if empathy for such an extraordinary scenario is even possible.

Gosling, Foy and Chazelle have created a unique film in many aspects. It’s unique in its filming, cinematography, use of sound, but most of all in its seeming idea to buck the trend of typical biopics. Instead of overtly fetishizing the achievements of its lead, it instead breaks them down to see if empathy with that lead is even possible. It’s a bold take on the biographical genre, wrapped up in excellent performances and top of their craft filmmaking across the board, leaving “First Man” as a film that has shot for the moon, and made it. 5/5

Bad Times at the El Royale - Review

What makes a mystery? Some think it’s creating a world where audiences know something just isn’t right. Some think it’s creating a place, not a person, that holds some evil to it. Some think it’s the sense of inescapable dread, that no matter what happens, something worse is on its way. Writer/Director Drew Goddard, a man familiar with dread thanks to his writing on “Cloverfield” and “The Martian” and his directing on “The Cabin in the Woods,” thinks it’s all of those things and a whole lot more.

At 141 minutes, “Bad Time at the El Royale” is facing an uphill battle when it comes to audiences. Rarely can a film enchant people for such an extended runtime without any preestablished characters or canon. However, its in Goddard’s excellent use of time manipulation that this is used to its fullest extent.

It doesn’t escape the fact that this is still a 141-minute-long film, and regardless of how expertly the uses its runtime, it uses it in such a slow and methodical way that it begins to feel its length by the time the third act rolls around.

The problem is, telling any more than that would be diving into spoiler territory, which is a shame because “Bad Time” is a film that is unquestionably better the less you know before seeing it.

The titular hotel positively drips with atmosphere in every frame. Cinematographer Seamus McGarvey (“Atonement”, “Nocturnal Animals”) keeps his camera work as slow and specific as the film’s pacing, leading to some glorious shots and downright genius uses of the titled angle technique.

More than just the cinematography though, the entire El Royale hotel takes on a life of its own thanks to stellar production and costume design from Martin Whist (“Cloverfield”, “The Cabin in the Woods”), Michael Diner (“Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol”, “The Cabin in the Woods”), Lisa Van Velden (“Supergirl”) and Danny Glicker (“This is the End”, “mother!”). It feels like a living breathing place, as ironic as that seems given the hotel’s run-down nature.

With a set that’s so exquisite it may as well be a character itself, a lot is left on the shoulders of the actors to deliver performances as memorable as the location. Luckily, they do just that, with Jeff Bridges (“The Big Lebowski,” “Iron Man”) turning in a performance that easily ranks with the best of his career. John Hamm (“Mad Men,” “Baby Driver”) and Dakota Johnson (“Fifty Shades of Grey,” “How to Be Single”) also turn in excellent roles, and Chris Hemsworth (“Thor,” “Blackhat”) ends up being so perfectly deranged that he almost certainly has a Supporting Actor Oscar nomination on his hands.

Though the stand outs by far are Cailee Spaeny (“Pacific Rim Uprising”) and Lewis Pullman (“Battle of the Sexes,” “The Ballad of Lefty Brown”). Spaeny, a relative unknown, makes it clear that she’s an unknown no longer for a reason. Her performance drips with wonderful uneasiness and emotion, creating a character easy to love and sympathize with. Pullman though, is in a whole other ballpark. Without spoiling anything, suffice it to say that his concierge Miles will without a doubt be the film’s most memorable character by far. Cynthia Erivo also stands out in her film debut, commanding the screen with a calm, tender voice for Bridges’ character and leaving her mark on a film loaded with other actors, no small feat.

However, for all of “Bad Times” excellence, in its cast, its designs, its writing, its mystery and how it all comes together, there is no denying that it delves into some downright disturbing material. Nothing to go as far as a horror film like “Hostel” or “Saw”, but it feels worse thanks to the excellent character depth that creates a strong likability for everyone. Everything just feels like one big “Yikes!” The events, while disturbing, may not be the worst things ever committed to cinema, but they feel worse because audiences legitimately care about the fates of even the smallest character.

Goddard isn’t afraid to throw a few subtle timely jabs at modern goings on though. And while they aren’t overt, annoying or even a huge part of the plot, it’s a small detail that leaves the movie feeling extremely timely.

Time is in fact the biggest talking point of the film in general. Not only is its plot paced in such a purposefully slow manner, but most scenes play out in real time for upwards of ten minutes, refusing to use cheap and quick cuts to get away from emotional moments. This, coupled with the film’s nature of dolling out its narrative in a genius puzzle piece format, creates a narrative that leave audience’s practically begging to know more about each event.

“Bad Time at the El Royale” features some bad time indeed. Some very bad, very long times that may turn off some audience members with its content and length. But do not be fooled; what is within the walls of this run-down bi state establishment is a mystery that is entirely engrossing in its presentation, its characters, its narrative and its white-knuckle tension. “Bad Times” is one hell of a good film. 4.5/5

Venom (2018) - Review

 

With Spider-Man now fully entrusted (more like en-dusted) to the MCU, Sony is forced to rely on its other spider characters to start a cinematic universe of their own. And none could be better than the liquid, alien, prone-to-violence-and-comping-people’s-heads-off antihero that is Venom.

Tom Hardy (“Mad Max: Fury Road,” “The Dark Knight Rises”) has a weird neurotic sensibility to his portrayal of investigative journalist Eddie Brock. He’s kind of an ass, but also a clear savant at what he does, and Hardy plays his as well as the script allows him to. The same goes for the rest of the cast, with Michelle Williams (“My Week with Marilyn,” “Brokeback Mountain”), Jenny Slate (“Kroll Show,” “Parks and Recreation”), and Riz Ahmed (“Rogue One,” “Nightcrawler”) all doing the best they can with the terribly inconsistent scrip they were handed.

Director Ruben Fleischer (“Zombieland”, “Thirty Minutes or Less”) and his writers: Jeff Pinkner (“The 5^th Wave”, “The Dark Tower”), Kelly Marcel (“Saving Mr. Banks”, “Fifty Shades of Grey”) and Scott Rosenberg (“Kangaroo Jack”, “High Fidelity”) don’t leave their actors stranded with nothing to work from. Rather they just end up delivering a script that’s full of plot holes, and with equal parts great and awful lines that reek of the early 2000’s.

More so than most other action films, especially those that seem to want to spawn a franchise, there are continuity errors abound. One minute Venom mentions knowing everything that’s in Eddie’s head, then next minute, he asks a question he should very well know the answer to if he is indeed in his head.

The film also has an incredibly slow first 20 minutes. Funny how a movie called Venom and about Venom doesn’t really pick up until Venom enters the picture. And when he does, he does so in gloriously epic and hilarious fashion.

Because that’s the thing about this film: while its poorly paced, contains major writing inconsistencies, has a boring first 20 minutes, and ends on a really bad mid-credits scene, its still just so damn fun.

Hardy chews up the scenery every chance he gets, playing somewhat of a demented, constantly sweating version of a guy you love to hate. And he never wastes a minute of screen time, constantly giving audiences odd jokes to laugh at or weird moments of bonding with the liquid black alien killer. He also doubles as Venom’s voice actor, and it’s a two-part persona that works so well.

There’s also a relentlessness in the violence that is extremely satisfying to watch. As opposed to other superheroes who try to limit their destruction, or ones who simply feel bad about it, Venom has no problem biting people’s heads off and obliterating building interiors. Its in these sequences where the film’s excellent visual design for the anti-hero shine through as well. The first fight scene with Venom in Brock’s apartment is a particular highlight.

Ludwig Göransson’s (“Creed,” “Black Panther”) electric score helps to add to the film’s epic fight scenes, and it leaves most of the movie feeling like one big guitar riff: sure, it’s a lot of the same that you’ve heard before, but damn if its doesn’t still sound good.

“Venom” is a weirdly nostalgic film, as most of its problems and its overall feeling harken back to the early 2000’s and the glut of terrible but still somehow entertaining superhero films like “Blade Trinity”, “Fantastic Four” and “Daredevil.” There’s a twinkle in its eye, a desire to cause mayhem and just deliver the evil alien goods, regardless of the storytelling casualties it leaves in its wake.

“Venom” begs you not to look at its thin plot, non-existent supporting characters and poor pacing. It just wants you to focus on its wonderful visuals, its great musical score, its primal action and its overall sense of weirdness. Because “Venom” is a very weird, not so great film. But damn, is it fun. 3/5

A Star is Born (2018) - Review

 

“Music is just the same twelve notes followed by an octave. Over and over. It’s how each musician hears it that makes it different.”

That line said by one of the supporting characters of ‘A Star Is Born (2018)” could easily describe the film itself. The fourth version of this story, following the 1937, 1954 and 1976 versions, sees Bradley Cooper (“The Hangover,” “Silver Linings Playbook”) as one of the film’s writers, it’s director and its star, and Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta, also known as Lady GaGa, as his flame. And its one of the best dramatic pieces of the year.

Cooper works with cinematographer Matthew Libatique (“Black Swan”, “Requiem for A Dream”) to help the camera float through most scenes. It allows the concert sequences and most important dramatic moments to make an impact thanks to many uses to the unbroken shot technique.

A myriad of closeups and a particular focus on eyes help add an extra layer of weight to each moment, almost as if the audience and the characters are making direct eye contact with each other.

While it isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it is worth noting that much of the core story stays the same from the previous versions of this story. The film keeps the major change the 1976 version made; to change the movie star angle to a music star one, and it’s still effective throughout.

Cooper and his writers use the backdrop of modern-day pop music to critique the ides of artists who’re in it for the money versus those who have something to say. It adds a sharp layer of modern-day criticism to help freshen up the story, but it wouldn’t work without “her”.

Stefani’s unknown songwriter Ally is the heart and soul of the film. She’s never just a “pretty little thing” for Cooper’s Jackson Maine to fond over. She’s fierce and a well-rounded character, not a damsel or a housewife. On the flip-side, Cooper’s country rock star character is a lovable train wreck of a man, and both performances are completely enthralling. At the very least, Stefani deserves an Oscar nomination for her role.

It is worth noting though that, while it does follow Ally and Jackson’s meeting and subsequent relationship, this is not a romance. This is a film that dissects how fame, love and even obtaining your dreams can fail to help when you’re plagued with things such as alcoholism and depression. Cooper and his team smartly zero in on that idea, never letting the romantic nature of the relationship overpower these underlying ideas.

The film admirably puts Maine’s alcoholism and depression at the center, and its leads to some of the film’s best moments and themes. It’s a movie with a country heartthrob at its core, and tis not afraid to show him cry, show him in despair and show him hurting. It isn’t trivialized either. It’s full of honest displays of affection and open discussions of mental health, not only between lovers, but most surprisingly in today’s age, between men.

Of course, given the careers of the film’s main characters, it’s the music is astounding. Each song has a rhythm that digs into your skin and makes toes tap almost immediately. The faux pop songs meant to be cringed at are appropriately cringe inducing, but even they have an infectious rhythm to them.

Sam Elliot gets the most screen time besides the two leads, and his southern drawl proves to be as effective as always, breathing wisdom and raw emotion into his performance, allowing his complex relationship with Maine to take hold. Dave Chapelle (“Robin Hood: Men in Tights,” “Half-Baked”) is equally excellent, although he isn’t given as much time or material as Elliot. The rest of the supporting cast fill their roles well: Andrew Dice Clay (“Blue Jasmine,” “Dice”) as an affectionate father for Ally, Anthony Ramos (“Hamilton,” “She's Gotta Have It (2017)”) as Ally’s best friend and Rafi Gavron (“Celeste and Jesse Forever,” “Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist”) as her sleazy manager.

“A Star is Born (2018)” is the kind of film that, when it sends, it practically dares audiences not to cry. Full of tough discussions on even tougher subjects, it’s a testament to the talented cast and crew that the film never feels like a downer. Sure, bad things may happen, but there’s an overwhelming feeling of optimism and moving forward that permeates through it all.

Cooper modernizes his telling of a classic Hollywood story with some smart commentary, but it’s the performances that sell it all. With a beating heart at its center, this is an engrossing story of love and the hardships that even it can’t fix. It may slow down in the second act, but that can’t dull what’s been accomplished here. “A Star is Born (2018)” is a wonderful crowd-pleaser with outstanding performances and a rich examination of the affects of toxic masculinity, all culminating in, hands down, one of the best films of the year. 5/5

The Hate U Give - Review

 

“The Hate U Give,” based on the 2017 book of the same name, is a film that’s difficult to introduce. Make no mistake, this is not a comment on the film’s quality. How does one craft a light intro paragraph to a film that tackles such difficult subjects with such grace? Like the job of adapting the widely praised and widely banned young adult novel to the screen, it seems almost impossible. But then you realize that it just happened.

Its important to note up front that while “Hate” may be a film that contains quite a bit of tension and dread, there’s a masterful tonal balance at play here. Director George Tillman Jr. (“Notorious,” “Soul Food”) and writer Audrey Wells (“The Game Plan,” “A Dog’s Purpose”) both keep a tight grip on this balancing act to make sure nothing ever comes off as disingenuous or melodramatic.

The crew can only do so much though, and luckily they have some great talent backing them up. The supporting cast is full of excellent performances all around, with only one really standing out as mediocre. Regina Hall (“Girls Trip,” “Ally McBeal”) is a wonderful mother figure, and Russell Hornsby (“Grimm,” “Fences (2017)”) completely steals every scene he’s in. Despite only appearing briefly, Algee Smith (“Earth to Echo,” “Detroit”) has to nail his performance, as the rest of the film more or less hinges on his character.

He nails it, as does Lamar Johnson (“Kings (2017),” “The Next Step”) as the young brother Seven. KJ Apa (“Riverdale,” “A Dog’s Purpose”), who only received his role as Starr’s boyfriend after the Youtuber Kian Lawley had been recast after racist videos resurfaced online, impresses, especially given how well he gels with the rest of the cast given the reshoots. Anthony Mackie, in one of his few non-Marvel roles, plays drug lord King, and delivers his performance with the right balance of quiet menace and impending power.

A handful of performances define this film though. Getting the most mediocre out of the way, Sabrina Carpenter (“Horns,” “Girl Meets World”) seems to be completely phoning it in as Starr’s prep school privileged friend. She isn’t compelling in the slightest, turning what could have been a compelling subplot into the film’s weakest link. However, that’s where the performance troubles end, because Amandla Stenberg (“The Hunger Games,” “Everything Everything”), who plays the lead Starr Carter, delivers a performance that is easily one of the best of the year.

She has a stoic and intelligence to herself that melts away to show the broken vulnerability of someone put in her situation. Even as the film’s events spiral out of control in the last 35-40 minutes, she never looses her handle on Starr’s character and moral compass, creating an emotionally sound and truly brave heroine.

Common’s (“John Wick Chapter 2,” “Selma”) role as her cop uncle is also worth commending. Like “Smallfoot” just a few weeks ago, he plays a character whose moral compass is sound according to himself, but not to some of the other characters. His distinct voice and solemn tone, along with the film’s screenplay, help to avoid demonizing him, instead creating a layered and complex character with a difficult situation at hand.

At two hours and ten minutes, “Hate” is a long movie. Its deliberate pacing doesn’t make it feel any shorter, and neither does the subject material. However, its in the smaller moments where Tillman allows the audience a chance to breath, without ever truly letting them forget about the intensity of Starr’s dilemma. Its effective because it truly puts audiences in her headspace. If she has to go around as if everything is normal, with this weight in the back of her mind, why shouldn’t the audience?

Everything comes to a head in the aforementioned last 35-40 minutes. Tensions boil over to deliver a third act crescendo that is impactful and delivers the tense finale Tillman and Wells are clearly building to. And its in these last moments that the real message of the film is revealed. No spoilers here, but the payoff delivered by subverting the THUG LIFE mantra the film repeats so often is incredibly powerful, and instantly tear-jerking.

It feels wrong to harp on such a small thing, but the low effort from Carpenter and the cheesy nature of her subplot really do hurt the film as whole. Because every event in the plot is tightly woven, with everything affecting something else in some way, it’s impossible to separate a simply ineffective subplot from a stellar film. That’s not to say the message within is poorly executed. But when you hand a great script to an actor who phones it in, then it doesn’t matter how great the message or script is, because it’s been tainted.

Regardless, “The Hate U Give” has so much good in its heart and its celluloid. A powerful and at times subversive message is backed up by commanding performances across the board and an Oscar caliber performance from Amandla Stenberg. It’s a shame that its length and poorly executed subplot involving Sabrina Carpenter hold it back, but what remains is a film that is completely powerful and engrossing. What Tillman and Wells have given us is nothing short of spectacular. 4.5/5