Bonejangles (2016), the second full-length feature from director Brett DeJager, is the perfect midnight movie. It is campy, creepy, uproarious and outrageously entertaining. The affair is also lightning paced and energetic from the get-go. The script, from Keith Melcher, vastly enhances the lean seventy-seven-minute project. This is with clever, tongue-in-cheek dialogue. Melcher also incorporates an abundance of equally witty parallels to time-tested slasher franchises. The most notable of these involves Bonejangles’ father, Edgar Sr. (in a phenomenal turn from Reggie Bannister). It is glimpsed solely in flashback. This early bit oversees Edgar Sr. motivating our engagingly engineered antagonist to kill. The primary reason to do so is one repeated, memorably hilarious line. Such a segment easily calls to mind the legendary slasher, Jason Voorhees, being similarly roused by his mother, Pamela (Betsy Palmer), in the Friday the 13th series. Such winks at the audience only amplify the fun factor DeJager’s triumphant horror/comedy produces immeasurably.
What also assists matters is that the movie ingeniously finds a way to respect the clichés of its sub-genre. This is while giving us a plot that is assuredly amusing and strikingly original; a perfect pulpit for a film of this ilk. It concerns a gathering of police officers. They are transporting our title villain to an asylum. Upon doing so, they find themselves in a town that is simultaneously cursed and being taken over by the living dead. Quickly hatching a plan to rid said municipality of their zombie problem, the cops unleash their once captive madman onto the surrounding area. This results in a wildly enjoyable ride; a side-splitting, in all senses of the word, tour de force.
Lesser efforts would’ve used this intriguing evil vs. evil concept to craft a parade of violence that runs the entirety of the picture. Though DeJager’s effort will assuredly please those who like to indulge in cinematic bloodshed, the labor one-ups this excellent narrative backdrop by going in several wholly unpredictable places. This is most evident in the second and third acts. More specifically, when a certain ominous, plot-serving character is introduced. The aforesaid section also proves the captivating and inventive means of exposition DeJager’s photoplay conjures. This is when dealing with a situation as that which was previously addressed.
Besides opening with one of the most terrifying and attention-garnering instances in the picture and concluding on an equally well-done note, DeJager’s undertaking is graced with incredible performances. Everyone involved takes the wide range of serious to comic on-screen personalities to entertaining extremes. Elissa Dowling is especially good as the no-nonsense Rowena. Additionally, the cinematography from Shaun O’ Connell is illustrious. It amplifies the seamless mood of the exertion beautifully. Ben Gersch’s special effects make-up and DeJager’s wardrobe work are just as spectacular. When combined with imaginative bouts of slaughter and central figures that rise above their deliberate familiarity through sheer prowess and charisma, BoneJangles emerges as an a uniquely effective B-movie. DeJager has crafted an all-around winner.
Bonejangles will be unleashed on Video on Demand July 18th, 2017 through Wild Eye Releasing.
(Unrated). Contains graphic violence, adult language and nudity.
Fierce in attitude and execution, co-writer-director Tony Germinario’s Bad Frank (2017) is an all-around exceptional thriller. Germinario chronicles the manner our central figure, Frank Pierce (in a spellbinding and aggressive enactment from the Robert Pastorelli Rising Star Award-winning actor Kevin Interdonato), distributes his own brand of revenge. This is after the kidnapping of his wife, Gina (in a layered and harrowing depiction from Amanda Clayton). The source of such a horrific happenstance is a mysteriously fashioned individual with which Frank shares an equally cryptic history.
Germinario rigorously holds onto the formula of prior entries in this sub-genre. Yet, the production is so masterfully fashioned at every turn that such criticisms hardly register. This is until long after the carefully paced one-hundred and two-minute runtime has passed. The feature is also brilliant in the credible and often physically expressed fashion in which the internal struggles and initially same said aggression Frank is undergoing throughout the account is conveyed.
This is especially evident in the opening forty-five minutes. In this section, Germinario, via his deft guidance and collaborative scripting with performers on the project Russ Russo and Interdonato, potently focuses on the damaged association between Frank and Gina. Such makes Frank’s plight endlessly dramatic, powerful, compelling and intense. These aspects are augmented as he violently attempts to retrieve Gina in the later stretches of the piece.
The result of such smartly honed moves is a picture that is as primal, raw and stirring as it is memorable. We find ourselves cheering as well as relating to the visibly flawed, yet uncompromisingly human and relatable, character of Frank. This is even when his actions are at their most reprehensible. These attributes are made ever-more envy-inducing. This is as Germinario utilizes our invested sentiments in his lead to hone a riveting finale. The most interesting aspect of this conclusive bit is how it cleverly reconfigures an especially common narrative element to feel inspired and new.
In turn, audiences are delivered an electric experience. This is a brawny, bold and brutal cinematic exercise. It is one that simultaneously embraces and rises above its categorical trappings. This is without ever becoming overblown. When combined with Tom Sizemore’s incredible depiction of Mickey Duro and Mike Hechanova’s gorgeously gritty cinematography, the effort is ever-more encapsulating. Such qualities augment the spectacular nature of Bad Frank. Germinario is assuredly a talent to be watched.
(Unrated). Contains violence, language and adult themes.
Releases on Video on Demand in the United States on July 4th. The movie will be available worldwide in the previously stated platform on July 7th.
The Answer (2015), the debut feature from writer-director Iqbal Ahmed, is a successful genre crossbreed. Merging elements of romance, mystery, thriller and science-fiction, Ahmed weaves an engaging, if familiar, tale. The fiction concerns a man, Bridd Cole (in a solid performance from Austin Hebert), who sets out to unveil his identity after an unexpected attack. This is with the utilization of a series of cryptic clues left behind by his deceased parents.
Iqbal’s picture opens with an assuredly attention-garnering bit. It is as well-made as it is unnerving. From herein, this quick-paced and efficient, eighty-two-minute film is further strengthened by the chemistry laden relationship between Cole and his co-worker turned girlfriend, Charlotte Parker (in a knockout portrayal from Alexis Carra). But, the most notable component is the way Ahmed keeps this human focus at the center. This is while introducing a variety of alternately enigmatic and cerebral notions into the plot. Such makes this beautifully shot production consistently gripping.
Regardless, much of the second act, which intimately develops the ever-budding rapport between our protagonists, ultimately offers nothing new in terms of character development. Still, the satisfying and grounded finale, as well as the general can-do attitude of the affair, more than makes up for this slight storytelling hiccup. All-in-all, this is a strong work of independent cinema. Erick DeVore’s spellbinding music, as well as the sparsely used special effects of the effort, back this statement magnificently. Though the sum of the labor never exceeds its many intriguing parts, audiences of all interests will assuredly be hypnotized by the cinematic web Ahmed weaves.
(Unrated). Contains violence and some terrifying moments.
Alien Convergence (2017), from director Rob Pallatina, is a fun, if familiar, creature feature. The light echoes of the Godzilla films only help matters. Nonetheless, the chronicle itself, which revolves around a crew of jet fighter pilots banding together to fight a reptilian monster which is terrorizing the surrounding area, is thin. Continually, the special effects leave much to be desired. Moreover, the leads and their relationships aren’t developed in any new way. Yet, the project has an antiquated sensibility towards entertainment. Such a quality is sure to prove endearing for those of us who grew up on similar cinematic experiences. This factor, combined with its quick pace and efficient eighty-seven-minute length, is more than strong enough for us to forget its shortcomings. Now available on Video on Demand from The Asylum.
(Unrated). Contains violence.
Death Pool
Rating: **** out of *****.
Death Pool (2016) is another knockout thriller from writer-director Jared Cohn; tense, tough, well-made and endlessly entertaining. Randy Wayne is terrific as Johnny Taylor: a young man who evolves into a serial killer, and later a pop-culture icon in Los Angeles, after drowning his babysitter as a child. Cohn keeps the suspense hard-boiled and the stride pitch-perfect. The dialogue is also crisp and believable. He also keeps the eighty-nine-minute affair from becoming repetitive. This is by finding new ways to utilize Taylor’s obsession with murder via water. This is while avoiding many of the clichés common in related slasher fare. The result is consistently seductive and intriguing throughout the entirety. Furthermore, Josh Maas’ cinematography is gorgeous. Chase Kuker’s music punctuates the piece powerfully. Reportedly based on a true event. Releases on Video on Demand and DVD on June 20th from MTI Home Video.
(Unrated). Contains graphic violence, nudity and sexuality.
Dragon Teeth
By Michael Chrichton
Rating: ***** out of *****.
Dragon Teeth (2017) is Michael Chrichton in top form; an irresistibly entertaining, perfectly paced and vividly written mixture of Paleontology and the Old West. It is also every bit as inventive and intellectually stimulating as you would expect from a work by Chrichton. This twist and adventure filled wonder, which concerns a thousand-dollar bet turning into a test of how far one young man will go to save a batch of recently uncovered dinosaur fossils, is an ingenious showcase for Chrichton’s cerebral and compulsively enthralling writing. This instant classic is undoubtedly one of the year’s best novels!
Length: 295 pages.
The volume was published by Harper Collins on May 23, 2017.
Full Wolf Moon
By Lee Child
Rating: **** out of *****.
Lee Child’s fifth Jeremy Logan novel, Full Wolf Moon (2017), adds nothing new to the supernatural murder mystery sub-genre. Still, it is a briskly paced, entertaining and well-written horror tale. Additionally, Logan is as likable and engaging as ever. The plot, which concerns Logan going to a wooded retreat to finish a paper and becoming entangled in a potentially werewolf related series of killings, becomes tedious in the mid-section. Regardless, there is an old-fashioned sensibility pulsating beneath the surface, common with tales from Child, that makes it easy to overlook these flaws. Such makes this detailed and character-oriented work altogether charming. Fans of Child’s prior works should certainly be satisfied.
Length: 258 pages.
The volume was published May 16th, 2017 via Doubleday Books.
Gremlin
Rating: ***1/2 out of *****.
Boosted by an interesting concept and some sly nods to a similarly titled Joe Dante venture from 1984, director and co-scripter Ryan Bellgardt’s Gremlin (2017) is a thoroughly engaging mini-monster movie. The moral dilemma brought forth by those who are in possession of the title creature-in-a-box, who terrorizes one family until it is passed off onto someone said kin admires in a ceaseless cycle, is especially interesting. Still, the protagonist-oriented, eighty-eight-minute photoplay is held back by less than stellar effects. It also suffers from a talkative second act and an all-too-abrupt finale. Releases July 11th, 2017 on Video on Demand.
(Unrated). Contains violence.
Gwendy’s Button Box
Rating: ****1/2 out of *****.
Gwendy’s Button Box (2017), a novella from Stephen King and Richard Chizmar, is brilliantly told. It is an engaging, inventive concept that is rich in moral message and power struggle symbolism. King and Chizmar chronicle our title heroine becoming in power of an odd contraption that is gifted to her by an unusual gentleman at an early age. At first, it seems to help her get her life on track. This is through its production of an unusually savory chocolate. This helps her diet and gain the popularity she desires. The item also disperses coins which will assist her financially as time passes. Yet, the switches, which are representative of different counties, give the object a shadowy persona. It is a means of responsibility that Gwendy only comprehends the significance of as she gets older.
Such begins a genuinely gripping narrative. It is one that is told in an unmistakably masterful manner. This is as only King and Chizmar could weave. As can also be ascertained from these two authors’ prior literary contributions, the personas found within the fiction are credible. Likewise, they are likably fashioned. The outcome is thoughtful and haunting; a must-read!
Released via Cemetery Dance Publications on May 16th, 2017.
Length: 180 pages.
Karate Kill
Rating: ***1/2 out of *****.
Writer-director Kurando Mitsutake’s Karate Kill (2016), which will be released in the United States on July 18th via Video on Demand and DVD/Blu-ray, isn’t quite as outrageous as its intriguing cover art and obvious grindhouse roots may suggest. Furthermore, its endless barrage of fist-flying action scenes, though accomplished, are never as jaw-dropping as one might expect. Additionally, the villains are one-dimensional archetypes. They are also underwhelming and not entirely memorable. Not to mention, the story arc and exposition are all delivered in an all-too-familiar manner. The plot is also not entirely novel. It involves our ruggedly charismatic and engaging hero, Kenji (Hayate), trying to save his kidnapped sister, Mayumi (Mana Sakura), from a cult of snuff filmmakers in Los Angeles. Still, the flick delivers just what fans of B-movie martial arts pictures demand in spades: bloody, brutal, fast-paced and occasionally hilarious fun. All of this is incorporated in a relatively brief, eighty-nine-minute runtime. Such is more than enough to make up for its former addressed shortcomings. The result is a genre entry that will assuredly please fans of similar works.
(Unrated). Contains graphic violence and nudity.
Leftovers
Rating: ***** out of *****.
Writer-director Seth Hancock’s Leftovers (2017) is an undeniably powerful, ever-fascinating and insightful eighty-minute documentary. It boldly addresses a potent and timely subject: hunger and food insecurity among senior citizens. The movie is just as much about the necessity of the Meals on Wheels program. What assists matters is that Hancock’s style and voice-over is appropriately straight-forward. As this is incorporated with a series of poignant interviews and reinstated with effective information to back up its thesis statement, the sheer impact of this unforgettable endeavor is undeniable. The result is tightly paced and endlessly moving; one of the best accounts of its type I have witnessed all year! Do yourself a favor and seek this one out! Hancock’s picture releases on Video on Demand on July 11th. It will be available on DVD on August 29th.
(Unrated). Appropriate (and recommended) for family viewing.
Fairfield Follies (2017), the debut feature from writer-director Laura Pepper, is a sharp, charming and frequently funny comedy. Yet, the one-hundred-minute picture succeeds most masterfully in its humorous tackling of stereotypes. Nearly everyone we encounter in Pepper’s effort falls prey to such typecasting in one manner or another. This latter declared quality could’ve easily created overly aggressive and unlikable characterizations. Yet, Pepper reveals a child-like incredulousness in those we encounter on-screen. Such an influence shields them from such harsh criticisms. Still, it never makes any excuses for their hateful actions. Likewise, there is also an everyday value to the blemished personalities our leads exude. Such makes our resident protagonists, as well as the film itself, more mirror-like to our contemporary world. The result is a highly satisfying and memorable example of the profound depth that laughter can convey.
Pepper, via her quietly biting and brilliant screenplay and deft guidance of the project, centers the entertainingly plotted narrative around the traditional title Christmas pageant. It commences with Ms. Evans (in a stellar turn from Susanne Colle), a woman who is prone to spontaneous sickness and blackouts, taking over as administrator of the undertaking. This is in place of the elderly Mrs. Whitelove (in a bulls-eye enactment from Mary DeBerry). The latter is the most biased of those in Pepper’s affair. This detail is smartly woven in an uproarious commencing arrangement which is upbeat and joyful. That is until Mrs. Whitelove whispers a slew of derogatory terms into Ms. Evans’ ear. From herein, Ms. Evan’s idealistic notion of turning the annual sketch-driven play she is tasked with putting together into an all-inclusive holiday gala gets skewed. This is by the politically incorrect cast and crew. In so doing, Ms. Evans’ goodhearted concept is shaped into an unintentionally offensive exercise in jaw-dropping chaos.
There is a consistently breezy demeanor Pepper instills into the proceedings. It impeccably befits the well-paced material. When combined with the behind the scenes action that endures until the hour mark and the unfolding of Ms. Evans’ program in the closing forty minutes, the movie itself is ever-intriguing. It also seems to contain a wisely theatrical quality. This is much in line with the show our heroine is frantically trying to erect. It is also reflected in the deliberately straight-forward, but nonetheless effective, cinematography of Jill Poisson. This clever parallel is also spied in the often-enigmatic individuals Pepper implements in her tale. Such an aspect is also transported in the manner Pepper moves the account forward. This is with many of the passages throughout the entirety becoming itself a singular skit tied around a larger plot thread. For example, one of my favorite moments involves Max (in a standout performance from David Ryan Kopcych) practicing his dramatic, almost musical reading of the Chinese takeout menu. Such a segment transpires at around the half hour mark. This becomes a running gag which is utilized throughout the duration of the runtime. Yet, the witty section in which this initially arises has an intimate actor and audience sensibility. This certainly evokes a stagy impression. Even the smirk-inducing post-credit bit, which encompasses Pepper appearing to address unseen spectators, splendidly reinstates this factor. Such also immediately expunges the inconclusive sensation that stems from the quick final episode. This is spied before these cunningly constructed acknowledgments roll.
The two-location project, which alternates between Ms. Evans’ home and the interior of the building where the play is being honed, is also graced with skillful and endearing performances all-around. Anna Rizzo is terrific as the cellphone obsessed Kelly. The same can be said for Johnny Sederquist’s turn as Jeremy. Rosemary Pacheco is charismatic and captivating as Melissa. Correspondingly, Dan Greenleaf is especially amusing as the drunken Santa Claus of the project, Paul.
From a technical standpoint, Pepper’s editing is superb. Phillip Martin’s music is innovative and lively. It captures the spirit of the story masterfully. Pepper’s animation and Poisson’s digital effects are similarly excellent. The camera and electrical contributions, as well as Anna Goodchild’s costume design, are all magnificent. Relatedly, the sound department delivers a largely proficiently to the overall prowess of the piece. This is even if some of the songs in Ms. Evans’ fabrication come off as indecipherable because of such an attribute.
There are several loose ends in this Peppered Productions release. For instance, Ms. Evans’ mysterious ailment is never satisfactorily resolved. Though this holds the photoplay back from perfection, it is overshadowed by the sheer variety, inventiveness and consistent successfulness of the guffaws on hand. But, Pepper also works just as well with the notion that most of the individuals in her fiction are themselves archetypes. For hordes of cinematic craftsmen, this would be a flaw too glaring for patrons to overlook. Yet, Pepper has intentionally instilled these traits in our leads. This is to punctuate the pigeonholed categorizations that these beings often verbalize via Pepper’s ingeniously penned dialogue. It gives bystanders a method to study the theme of this tour de force from both within and without. Best of all, Pepper finds a stupendous balance between the heady subtleties of her flick and the light-hearted spirit that pulsates on the surface. Such creates a labor that is as quietly meditative as it is quirky and fun. Ultimately, Pepper doesn’t weigh down her plot in her finger-waving and lesson learning. But, such practices still illuminate the presentation. Such is just one of the numerous items which make Pepper’s effort so special. With Fairfield Follies, Pepper has given us one of the best genre concoctions of the year. I highly recommend seeking it out.
Visionary director Ridley Scott continues to carry the Alien franchise along a bold and refreshingly unique route, as he last did in the criminally underrated Prometheus (2012), with the eighth entry overall in the former-stated cinematic succession, Alien: Covenant (2017). This is while respecting the foundation, the well-placed moments of terror and masterful buildup (as well as the working-class characterizations and claustrophobic cinematography), that were present in Scott’s original film in the series, Alien (1979). The satisfying and rich story, which revolves around a ship of colonists who land on a planet they believe to be habitable only to find themselves encountering a chain of deadly threats, is where the above-mentioned qualities are most evident. Such results in the rare modern science-fiction/ horror release that is as rich, challenging and cerebral as it is atmospheric and entertaining. Likewise, the finale, though a shade predictable, is still the perfect note in which to end the film.
As always with a genre feature from Scott, the sets are meticulously detailed, striking, complex and inspiring. In turn, they are almost as lively as the stars themselves. The performances, true to the Alien tradition, are gritty and credible. Katherine Waterston is especially good as Daniels: a more visibly vulnerable riff on Sigourney Weaver’s Alien heroine, Ellen Ripley. Yet, Michael Fassbender steals the show in his dual role as the identical androids David and Walter. These portrayals remain layered despite the inability of the otherwise magnificent screenplay, from John Logan and Dante Harper, to flesh-out our protagonists in any new way. This is a problem initially glimpsed in the commencing minutes of the picture. It courses throughout the duration.
Correspondingly, the pace is uneven. Still, its construction is oddly enchanting and exhilarating. Relatedly, some of the effects, the contribution from a crew of dozens of individuals, are a bit underwhelming. But, there is also plenty of excellent work provided in this arena to be seen. Furthermore, Alien: Covenant isn’t quite as philosophical, visually spectacular or ambitious as Prometheus. It also isn’t as groundbreaking or immediately terrifying as Alien. Still, Alien: Covenant remains a terrific addition to the Alien canon. The pure craft Scott showcases throughout the entirety of its one-hundred-and-twenty-two-minute runtime makes up for these comparatively minor flaws. This is especially true of Alien: Covenant‘s perpetually somber, elegiac and dread-laced tone.
Operating as both a sequel to Prometheus and a prequel to Alien, Alien: Covenant is sure to frustrate those who want only Xenomorph action. Though the sparse bits consisting of such a detail are vicious, jarring and well-done. Regardless, it will assuredly enthrall audiences who like their movie-going experiences more singular. The quietly eloquent opening sequence alerts spectators of this factor immediately.
In the end, Alien: Covenant is a brilliant signpost of the life still left in this near forty-year-old saga. It is just as much a symbol of Scott’s endlessly evolving mastery of the material. Fans intrigued by the Alien mythology will adore Scott’s most recent outing. I know I did! As a matter of fact, I look forward to absorbing its myriad wonders once more on the biggest screen possible.
(R). Contains graphic violence, language and some sexual content.
Alien: Covenant was released in U.S. theaters on May 19th, 2017.
Long Night in a Dead City (2017) is among the most accomplished works from the collaborative team of screenwriter Lenny Schwartz and director Richard Griffin. It stands as a testament to the surreal, hypnotic power derived from a largely imagery-driven narrative. This brilliantly paced and filler-less seventy-five-minute masterpiece also garners an endless mystique from this quality. What also helps matters is that it wisely never overindulges in its rhythmic and often cryptic dialogue.
This is immediately noted in the visually stunning opening arrangements. In this section, our hero, Daniel Belmont (in an ever-gripping portrayal by Aidan Laliberte), wakes up bloody and bruised. Gradually pulling himself from the middle of the road, where he either fell asleep or lost consciousness, we follow him with increasing intrigue. This is as he dazedly treads through the surrounding area. But, there is a confused impression about his movements. Such suggests an attempt at filling in gaps in his memory. What he is trying to recall becomes the impetus of this 1979-set affair. From herein, Griffin and Schwartz answer this question with an almost dream-like succession of events. All of which revolve around a film festival and Daniel’s missing brother, Charlie (Anthony Gaudette). There is also an enigmatic cult-like group. Griffin and Schwartz also incorporate into the proceedings a bar where people, all of whom are as immobile as figures in a wax museum, go before committing suicide on the last day of the year.
Such fascinating factors and clever concepts are augmented by the gorgeously constructed modern noir-like atmosphere. Yet, this Scorpio Film Releasing produced affair, originally titled Satan’s Children, refuses to settle into the tidy constraints of any genre. This is as it effortlessly juggles elements of science-fiction, horror, murder mystery and dark romance. But, there is a masterful use of recurring symbolism that fits neatly into the most prominent themes of this The Twilight Zone-like (1959-1964) undertaking. Such is manifest in the utilization of a black watch that is spied early in the endeavor.
Adding to these awe-inspiringly artistic and subtly issued attributes is a palpable love for 1970’s cinema. This is readily perceived in the terrifically designed posters for the fictional features showing at The Cine Satyrica New Year’s Eve Film Festival. It is also enhanced by the various Kubrickian shots of the inside of the theater where the aforesaid jubilee is held. There are also classically erected moments where our lead slowly treads down long, isolated hallways. They also alluringly reflect this aesthetic. Yet, this trait is most discernible in the way the sights Daniel views on-screen prompts him to piece together his fragmented recollections. Such a plot thread also seems to silently speak to the catharsis and relation to what one is seeing in a photoplay in correlation to the singular experiences of the viewer in general. This component also allows for some truly innovative, near Lynchian spectacles. Moreover, John Mosetich carries on this ardent connection. This is with cinematography that is as mesmerizing and colorful as it is reminiscent of an Italian Giallo film.
Continuing to strengthen the exertion is Griffin and Schwartz’s deliberate decision to leave the characters, even our protagonist, an enigma. In less capable hands, this would be a fatal flaw in this otherwise impressive effort. Instead, it heightens the palpable air of intrigue that pulsates throughout the entirety. It also matches the same said tone to illuminating effect. Such also allows us to get inside Daniel’s psyche with plentiful ease. In turn, the opus is more skillful and captivating because of such a choice.
What is all the more tremendous is that we still feel as if we know and can relate to nearly everyone we encounter in Griffin and Schwartz’s elusive voyage. This is a major courtesy of Griffin’s ever-mature, stylish and astounding guidance of the project. It is also a consequence of Schwartz’s rich and intelligent authorship of the account. Such a triumph in this category is also related to the pitch perfect casting of the piece. For example, Sarah Reed is enthralling as the target of Daniel’s affections, Holly. Anna Rizzo is superb in her brief turn as The Bartender. Aaron Andrade is just as memorable as the shadowy individual known as The Driver. Jaquelyn Fabian as Diana, Jack Shipley as Luke and Lars Rieck as Tom are all terrific in their respective roles.
From a technical standpoint, Griffin orchestrates seamless and sharp editing. Sissy O’ Hara’s makeup and Angela Shulman’s art direction are similarly striking. Mark Cutler, Tony Milano and Daniel Hildreth all provide incredible music. Their collective participation suits the downplayed mood of the movie masterfully.
Griffin and Schwartz’s latest concludes with a sequence that turns a familiar tale-telling circumstance on its head. This is that the announcement, and the detached manner it is stated in, seems to nod to emotions and ideas far more complex than what should be brought forth from such a statement. It is one of the myriad moves of ingenuity that pushes the project. Having seen the feature twice now, I can say that upon the initial watch we are drawn in by the gloomy beauty and the puzzle-like nature of the arrangement. On the next sit-through, we note how well the clues placed before Daniel propel him to his destination. Furthermore, audience patrons are drawn in by the depth and dimension of Daniel’s journey the second time around. Such only seems to hint at a plethora of layers yet to be tapped into with ensuing observances. This, along with all the adept touches declared prior, comes together to create a well-rounded, stirring, nightmarish and unforgettable exercise in anecdotal cinema. Long Night in a Dead City is the best picture of the year.
Besetment (2017), from writer-director Brad Douglas, is a lean and ultimately potent horror concoction. The seventy-four-minute picture begins as a triumphant homage to Alfred Hitchcock’s quintessential psychological thriller, Psycho (1960). We note this in the relationship our antagonist, Billy Colvin (in a simultaneously tense and vulnerable, ruggedly enthralling performance from Michael Meyer), has with his domineering and equally wicked mother, Mildred (in a phenomenal portrayal from Marlyn Mason). Much of the plot, which revolves around a young woman, Amanda Millard (in a top-notch representation from Abby Wathen), who takes a job at The Oregon Hotel and later comes up missing, echoes this aforesaid similarity. Not to mention, it is even spied in one of the most quietly clever moments in the fiction. Such an arrangement arrives at nineteen minutes into the story. This sequence involves what looks like a bloody fluid building around the drain of a shower. For those who vividly recall the murder of Marion Crane (Janet Leigh) by Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins) in the previously stated Hitchcock classic, especially the closing shot, Douglas’ sequence serves as an equally smart and smirk-inducing parallel. It also fits effortlessly into the context of the story.
Such a comparison is strongly tailored until nearly the conclusion of the intriguing, if exposition heavy, first half of the movie. Once the tension becomes more palpable and the thriller elements kick into full gear, Douglas’ endeavor establishes a tone that is more along the likes of Deliverance (1972), Wolf Creek (2008) and Kevin Connor’s darkly comic cult classic, Motel Hell (1980). Yet, Douglas’ exertion has the most in common with Jim Lane’s recent gem, Betrothed (2016). This is most noteworthy once the Colvins’ intentions towards Amanda are exposed.
When this occurs, the undertaking is partially held back by the familiarity that propels the events of the last forty minutes. Furthermore, one of the most pivotal arrangements in the undertaking, which is set in a church, is too brief to be as effective as possible. Regardless, the succession that is placed immediately after this instant, which serves as an epilogue, is perfectly chill-inducing. It also garners further points for being comparable to the commencement of John Carpenter’s Halloween (1978). Such more than makes up for the prior addressed shortcomings. Additionally, the film is consistently well-made and engaging. This formerly stated stretch also includes several episodes that are as steeped in tradition as they are memorable. The same can be said of the terrifically developed characterizations. This is most readily noted in a pair who find themselves attempting to solve the mystery of Amanda’s disappearance. They are Sheriff Joe Palin (Greg James) and Deputy Julie Nelson (Hannah Barefoot). Yet, the caliber of their depictions, sheer likability and on-screen chemistry with one another illuminate the configurations they reside within.
From a technical standpoint, Douglas’ scripting and general management of the project is skillful and captivating. Such high-quality capabilities evoke a foundation for the labor that is as gritty as it is deftly executed. Compatibly, the dialogue is credible. The actions of both the protagonist and antagonist also logically derive from the situations Douglas introduces into the tale. Best of all, Douglas just as organically builds continual suspense and audience interest. He also incorporates a masterful pace that unveils in a gradual and even fashion. These are all certainly necessary ingredients in crafting the unyielding credibility that radiates from Douglas’ undertaking.
This Barbed Wire Films co-production also sports spectacular, wonderfully claustrophobic cinematography from Chuck Greenwood. The veneer in Douglas’ latest calls to mind Daniel Pearl’s masterful work in Tobe Hooper’s groundbreaker, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974). Such a look, commonly attempted in grindhouse evocative exertions such as this, is more than suitable for the material. Likewise, Graham Denman and Kyle Hnedak’s music is impressive and atmospheric. The effects, sound and makeup department offer a similarly exceptional contribution.
Such results in a taut, tough genre entry. This is even if the twists in the narrative are hit and miss. Still, the general prowess of the piece keeps the movie ever-admirable. The 1970’s B-movie sensibility that courses throughout the totality also adds a consistently old-fashioned charm. This is an appeal that fellow cinephiles will certainly adore. What augments the strength of this factor is Douglas’ spellbinding construction of the terror elements. The outcome is a thoroughly solid and satisfying genre outing. Douglas’ exercise in fear is far above average.
Besetment releases on video on demand on June 6th, 2017 through Uncork’d Entertainment. It will be available on DVD on September 5th.
Co-writer and director Brady Hall’s 7 Witches (2017) is a masterclass in ever-darkening atmosphere. Hall’s quietly unsettling, often bass tonal music continuously suggests a sinister cloud of wickedness slowly encompassing the viewer. This can also be said of Mark Meseroll and Will Putnam’s unnerving contribution to the sound department. The creepy morsels the duo concoct frequently derive from the narrative itself. In the classic horror genre tradition, this largely stems from the din some unseen individual makes from afar. It is also heard, and felt from the perspective of the viewer, in the more brutal episodes of violence spied in the labor. Such a statement is piqued by Ryan Purcell’s ominous and grimly beautiful cinematography. Additionally, the variety of increasingly strained character relations, which begin slightly askew and become more aggressive as the ingeniously fashioned plot unfolds, only enhance this brooding orchestration. Hall’s gradual, layer by layer pace assists this element. There is also an equal doses subtle and dream-like manner that stylistically guides the project. Such a veneer weaves these components together brilliantly.
Hall commences his tale with a genuinely shocking and superbly done black and white sequence. It details a colonial massacre. The length of the segment is no more than three minutes. Yet, it leaves a lingering impression. It also mechanizes as an instantaneous expression of the technical prowess of the piece.
As the story moves to the modern day, Hall focuses in on a wedding. It is between Aggie (in a top-notch performance from Megan Hensley), a local, and Rose (in an enactment from Danika Golombek that perfectly balances innocence with underlying trepidation). The latter is a stranger to the area. Almost immediately we note the problems among those who have gathered for the matrimonial celebration. Chief among these is the sibling rivalry between Kate (who is enthrallingly played by Persephone Apostolou) and Rose. The film, especially the initial half hour, wisely utilizes this as a springboard. It is one meant to entertainingly develop these on-screen personas. Simultaneously, it keeps us biting our nails. This is by ceaselessly garnering unease. Such a sensation always appears to be incessantly tightening its malicious grasp around these otherwise mundane events. This impression is pushed into full force when Hall introduces a mysterious group of individuals. They gather with the assorted family members the night before Aggie and Rose’s festivity. The rest of the picture also astonishes in its ability to never lose sight of its sharp eye for its leads. This is while the affair delves further into its eerie, mesmerizingly constructed and imaginative terror arrangements. In turn, the payoff is every bit as satisfying as its buildup.
The deft screenplay, co-penned by Ed Dougherty, adds to the richness of the proceedings. This is as much as the all-around terrific depictions. Mike Jones as Kate’s (potentially ex) lover, Cody, and Macall Gordon as Paula are some of the strongest of these previously unmentioned portrayals. Nancy Frye’s representation of Elanor and Kris Keppler’s embodiment of Anne are similarly incredible. Adding to the charm is Kristine Hawthorne’s superb costume design.
At a mere seventy-one minutes in length, this is a lean, taunt, filler-less moviegoing experience. This Indican Pictures release rivals Robert Eggers fierce full-length feature debut, The Witch (2015), in sheer unpredictability and stark credibility. Likewise, Hall’s exercise is just as chill-inducing. This is even if some of the arrangements of exposition found in the first act are handed via formulaic circumstances. Still, the overall power of the presentation is never diluted. 7 Witches is a knockout. I look forward to whatever Hall does next.
(Unrated). Contains violence, sexuality and adult themes.
Available now on video on demand.
The Facebook page for the project can be found here.
Taking cues from The Entity (1982), Insidious (2010), Wishmaster (1997) and The Evil Dead (1981), prolific writer-director Rolfe Kanefsky’s The Black Room (2016) is stylish, tense, captivating and fun; an instant classic. The project tells the tale of a married couple who discover a demon that thrives on sexual repression and desire. Such an unholy entity threatens to destroy the lives of the once happy duo. This is almost immediately upon their arrival in their new home.
In so doing, Kanefsky instills a plethora of inventive ideas. They greatly enhance the occasionally formulaic mechanics of the plot. The endeavor also benefits from solid, character-oriented writing. Kanefsky also sports an undeniable capacity for visually stunning direction. Such a trait is wonderfully reminiscent of Dario Argento. The often gooey 1980’s influenced special effects, which come courtesy of Eric Chase and Vincent J. Guastini, only augment the joyously retro feel. Such pulsates ardently through every frame of the proceedings. Correspondingly, Savant’s booming, nail-biting and grimly gorgeous music compliments Kyle Stryker’s same said cinematography brilliantly.
Furthermore, Lin Shaye as Miss Black and Tiffany Shepis as Monica, a real estate agent, shine in their brief turns. Natasha Henstridge as our heroine, Jennifer, makes for a compellingly vulnerable counterpart. This is in relation to her possessed husband, Paul (in a bulls-eye turn from Lukas Hassel). Such is especially true once his increasingly eccentric behavior kicks in near the end of the first act.
In turn, Kanefsky has created a smartly paced, joyously successful horror outing. It is one erected from the most endearing qualities of the genre. Admittedly, the creature in the basement scenario is the most charming element in this respective arsenal. Best of all, the ninety-four minute picture commences with an extended opening segment that is impressive on all accounts. From herein, this largely unpredictable presentation only continues its enjoyably atmospheric and imaginative streak. The rousing, blood-soaked climax and post-end credit scene can be viewed as one magnificent, elongated final wink at the audience. Such results in an all-around superbly done and satisfying venture. Kanefsky has delivered one of the best cinematic terrors of the year. The mysteries of The Black Room are well-worth seeking out.
(Unrated). Contains graphic violence, sexuality, adult themes and nudity.
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