“Hush”- (Movie Review)

April 28, 2016May 1, 2016 moviesforlife09Leave a comment

By Andrew Buckner
Rating: *** out of *****.

As an exercise in continued suspense, director Mike Flanagan’s Hush works incredibly well. The film echoes superior efforts, most noticeably the 1967 Audrey Hepburn starring tour de force Wait Until Dark, in its apparently unproblematic ability to shred our nerves. More often than not, this is derived from its capacity to evoke panic amid mundane surroundings. Remarkably, such transpires while keeping audience patrons’ devotion almost constantly peaked throughout with the implement of its deadly game of cat mouse. Flanagan’s latest, parallel to the adaptation of Frederick Knott’s play mentioned above, also incorporates the impairment of senses. Hepburn suffered blindness in the previously mentioned nail-biter. With Hush, the condition is deafness. This our heroine accrued as a teenager. The result, though ultimately retracing the motions of far too many analogous thrillers, is still surprisingly effective.

Such is thanks to Kate Siegel’s hypnotic and believable turn as the lonely writer, Maddie. Siegel injects her otherwise one-dimensional character with a wounded likability. This makes it all the easier to root for her. Such is especially visible when the murderous madman she sees watching her outside her secluded residence in the woods threatens to slaughter her by morning. Siegel projects a vulnerability from the on-set that still quietly cries out of her eventual refusal to be victimized. It is one that we can sense making her easy prey for the psychotic, and similarly archetypically penned, villain of the tale. This individual is known exclusively as The Man (John Gallagher, Jr.).

Yet, where Siegel, who had a small bit in Flanagan’s underappreciated Oculus from 2013, fashions her protagonist into a sum far greater than the part she co-wrote with Flanagan: Gallagher’s enactment doesn’t fare nearly as well. His portrayal is adequate. Still, he has difficulty rising above the generic trappings of the nefarious role he has been provided. Michael Trucco as John, Samantha Sloyan as Sarah and Emilia Graves as Max correspondingly do as well as they can. This is considering their run of the mill, plot-serving on-screen personalities. The climax also feels rehashed and, ultimately, underwhelming. It also attempts to make a commentary about the dangers of our era’s technological obsession. But, this too is distributed in no new way. In the end, it is this familiarity, as well as these shortcomings in the character development, which make Hush a solid, but forgettable, outing in fear.

There is nothing innovative or surprising about anyone we meet in this cinematic journey. Furthermore, many of the events herein are equally uninspired. A proposed ‘twist’ as to The Man’s real identity, which transpires late in the third act, smacks of much the same repackaged sensation. Additionally, one scene where Maddie writes, “My boyfriend is on the way”, in lipstick on glass as a message to the killer seems like it was molded after the brilliant opening of Wes Craven’s 1996 game changer, Scream. The only consequence is it comes off as an imitation of Craven’s far sturdier and better executed sequence. This becomes one of many other small details that temporarily throw us out of this otherwise well-honed vehicle. These flaws become more difficult to overlook. What hurts the attempt most of all is that it serves to constantly remind us of the imitation, as well as loftier entries in the slasher on the loose sub-genre, buried beneath the feature’s intriguing surface.

Regardless, many of the technical attributes help sustain the uncertainty and keep our consideration invested. James Kniest gives us dark, brooding cinematography. It is perfect for the piece. Flanagan’s editing compliments the aforementioned attributes splendidly. Ken Gorrell’s top-notch minimalistic special, as well as Bret Culp and Brian Jeremiah Smith’s visual, effects add authenticity to the project. Jaan Child’s set decoration helps this previously stated characteristic spectacularly. The art department does a great job. Brock and Bruce Larsen create a mask for the killer which is unsettling. This is even if Flanagan and Siegel make the fatal mistake of having The Man reveal his face, and therefore diminish much of the mystery, far too early. Joshua Adeniji, Kate Jesse and Michael B. Koff issue sound which makes the long periods of quiet interrupted by sharp, sudden noises, which Flanagan instills into the work often to build anxiety, all the more creepy and disturbing.

Flanagan’s behind the lens contribution which, when combined with Siegel’s high-caliber representation, makes the movie compulsively watchable. He heightens the tension dazzlingly with minimal dialogue. As a matter of fact, it totals less than fifteen minutes of the runtime. He also conjures haunting images aplenty. The craftsman of 2011’s gem, Absentia, uses the largely subtle instincts of terror building, though all tried and true, he utilized in his past features here with just as successful an outcome. Flanagan’s brilliant and striking use of The Newton Brothers’ unsettling music becomes a potent punctuation point for these already stalwart facets. It increases these already uncomfortable instances throughout to levels above the general formula that plays into all angles of the narrative. These elements could’ve easily become cliché, given they have been dispensed on uncountable circumstances in comparable endeavors, in less capable hands. Yet, the piece peaks our attention after its opening ten minutes of quickly fading serenity and brief, yet satisfactory enough, exposition. For the rest of the wisely compact length, Flanagan keeps the pace moving expertly with an almost unwavering intensity pulsating throughout.

This detail mechanizes well enough to keep our mind from returning too often to the reality that this is all strictly serviceable material. The trepidation victoriously produced is window dressing for an otherwise hollow, by the numbers undertaking. Yet, Hush, though far from Flanagan or even 2016’s best horror submission, is worth a glimpse simply for the enduring strength of this quality alone. It keeps Flanagan in the running as a chief of his respective field. This is despite the fact that compared to the baker’s dozen of cinematic treats in his directorial catalogue, Hush is more mediocre than masterwork.

“Hardcore Henry”- (Movie Review)

April 27, 2016April 27, 2016 moviesforlife09Leave a comment

By Andrew Buckner
Rating: ***1/2 out of *****.

Hardcore Henry, a proudly R-rated action vehicle from thirty-year old director Ilya Naishuller projected almost entirely from the first person point of view, is an unusually successful cinematic experiment. With practically wall to wall violence from its slightly off commencing sequence to it’s certainly smirk inducing finale, the too often heard comparisons of film to a video are certainly impossible to ignore. As a matter of fact, it seems tailor-made for such tech savvy enthusiasts. Similarly, its general attitude is destruction of everything in sight without taking the time to ask why. It delivers only the most necessary bits of its narrative design to project the story from one jaw-dropping, breathtaking sequence of explosion and gun-fire to the next. Even the general plot, which concerns a robotic being with an unusually well-honed knack for fighting waking up with no recollection of prior events to find out he is a wanted man, seems lifted from the same comparative source.

The result is a spectacularly over the top, endlessly entertaining ninety-six minutes. It astonishes by showing us things we’ve seen far too many times before with a unique angle. This is that we are thrust directly into the sights and perceptions of our lead, Jimmy (Sharlto Copley, who proves he is certainly suited for his role; even if his actual performance is hard to assess). Furthermore, the composition moves at a relentlessly breakneck pace throughout. There is no denying the ground-breaking take on the brutal, yet conventional, exploits Jimmy dabbles in. The whole work, from one amazingly done early sequence atop a plane to the massive brawl incorporated in the completion, seems to be trying to top itself time and again. This is especially true in terms of sheer ravenous spectacle. A dynamic extended sequence inside a brothel and an equally terrific one involving a unique take on a car chase are among the most memorable such incidents herein. There are also several successfully humorous sections sprinkled throughout the bloodshed and ferocity. One such incident, where Jimmy fails to mount a horse near the hour mark, plays like a riotous western parody. It can also be seen, at best, as a hilarious outtake from such a genre offering. It is such unexpected moments amid the modern-day carnage which keeps the proceedings continuously fresh and unpredictable. These portions only heighten the joy at hand.

Yet, it isn’t until we leave this silver screen wonder that we realize we know little more about the individual whose shoes we’ve walked in as we did going into it. We are awed by its brazen, in your face attitude. This fascination continues with its sharp twists (one particular third act reveal is especially surprising) and the pure energy surging from every frame. Yet, it never asks us to peer any deeper. Such makes for a rousing, but, ultimately, hollow experience. Those who are looking for brisk, mindless excitement will more than get their money’s worth. All others may be underwhelmed by its lack of dimension. Those individuals may be just as disappointed with the by the numbers story arc.

Besides wisely avoiding showing the face of our protagonist by having Jimmy cleverly duck out of range of all the mirrors that surround him until one pivotal instant, which heightens the effectiveness of the gimmick Naihsuller engages us in, the screenplay continuously injects inventive ways to keep its rowdy spirit fresh and alive. The picture rarely repeats itself in terms of violence. Likewise, the incorporation of Akan (Danila Kozlovsky), an engaging albino villain with telekinetic powers, adds to both the wow factor. It also greatly enhances the creativity on display. This is noticeable when he is seen psychically picking up anything in his possession and hurling them at Jimmy. These range from tables to actual human beings. Either way, such sights suit the approach remarkably well.

Sadly, none of that conception can be found in the other aspects of the conclusively rote Will Stewart and Naishuller penned screenplay. The duo offer strictly serviceable dialogue. They serve up to spectators’ ears the brand of perfunctory conversation that is just meant to move us from one scene to the next. That is when the feature settles down, as it rarely does, enough to allow such discourse. There isn’t even the expected degree of quips we would find in a classically honed vehicle. For instance, the brand that would’ve typically showcased Arnold Schwarzenegger or Bruce Willis. Additionally, all of the characters we meet herein are written as thinly as Jimmy.

Moreover, the ploy begins to grow tedious near the climax. There is also a staggeringly unexpected, and rather pointless, musical number in the third act. This weighs down the energy. Such an absurd bit plays as if the tale is suddenly lampooning itself. It throws us out of the account during the minute or two it lasts. What is worse is that the feeling that this segment is pure filler, in a flick where this word otherwise does not apply, is undeniable.

Yet, these detracting elements are saved by composer Darya Charusha’s kinetic, pulse-pounding soundtrack. The cinematography from Chris W. Johnson, Pasha Kapinos, Fedor Lyass and Vsevolod Kaptur, as well as the editing by Steve Mirkovich, are crisp, rugged and grimly beautiful. Such is true of both components. This is even when they mimic the erratic shaky camera movements commonly equated to a found footage effort. Anna Kudevich’s costume design is stylish and appropriate. Igor Byoko, Regan Livingstone and Tanit Phoenix offer terrific make-up. The sound, composed from a department of seventeen individuals, makes the various blows issued throughout all the more immersive and heart-pounding. The massive visual effects and stunt crew only enhance the credibility and the illusion that we are actually a part of what is unfolding.

Haley Bennett paints Jimmy’s wife, Estelle, with equal doses strength and vulnerability. Bennett gives a powerhouse performance in a role that is more layered than her introductory sequences, when Jimmy wakes up, would allow you to believe. Tim Roth is just as convincing as Henry’s Father. Andrei Dementiev as Slick Dimitri, Oleg Poddubnyy as Yuri and Stewart as Robbie are just as wonderful. They are continuously gripping in their respective portrayals.

I was initially put off by the concept of Hardcore Henry. It appeared that, with the found footage sub-genre long past its prime and audiences unafraid to announce their fatigue with such opuses, Naishuller and company were attempting to offer us a new moneymaking alternative to the aforementioned sub-genre. Moreover, the trailer made the actual execution of the idea appear juvenile. I couldn’t be more wrong. This is a well-done, ruthless, fierce and mostly mature endeavor. It should have no problem packing adrenaline junkies of all ages into cinema theaters with the enjoyment afterwards evident all around. Naishuller guides the piece with taut direction and more artistry than one might expect from such an undertaking. This is visible from the moment Jimmy opens his eyes after the initial prologue.

Though the affair can be equated to the likes of the Jason Statham starring Crank ventures, both entries in the Hitman series, James Bond, The Terminator and any given found footage exertion thrown into a blender: the result is, for now, purely original. My only hope is that when the movie’s success at recycling these familiar ingredients brings forth an era of first person vantage movies: that they are injected with the inspired spirit of virtuoso fun that is visible throughout so that this impression will not become tainted. Even though the tactic utilized has been done in cinema before, Naishuller has crafted a film that is still uniquely trailblazing. Though far from a masterpiece, this assuredly dazzles. Such comes as much from the novelty still ingested into its device as it does from its ability to wink at its audience while exhilarating us. The results are undeniable, and highly recommended.

“Accidental Incest”- (Movie Review)

April 20, 2016April 21, 2016 moviesforlife093 Comments

Rating: ***** out of *****
By Andrew Buckner

Accidental Incest, based on the off-Broadway production (published through Indie Theater Now) by Lenny Schwartz, plays like a gloriously successful mash-up of John Waters, Kevin Smith and South Park creators Matt Stone and Trey Parker at their most riotous and wildly unhinged. Schwartz has engineered a consistently funny, beautifully constructed and intelligent screenplay adaptation. It is one that is alternately meditative and unabashed. Likewise, it is consistently cunning, engaging and conclusively uplifting in its own respect. These elements assist in making this one hundred and two minute piece undeniably bold. Not only is this visible in the taboo bridled title subject matter, with much of its humor deriving from its sexual frankness, but also in the stances it takes against religious persecution. Additionally, the faux sense of superiority instilled in those who take the reins of such facets. This is the increasingly rare feature that utilizes the comedy genre as not only an instrument to entertain but, also, to drive home its timely thematic conscience. From the first effective comic segment, a tone-setting quote by Irving Berlin that flashes over a dark screen in its initial seconds, to the splashy extravaganza marking its heaven sent conclusion: the proof of this statement reverberates through every frame of its expertly paced one hundred and two minute runtime. This audacity is also visible in the unconventional manner the endeavor is told. It is just as foreseeable in the truly impulsive chain of events which dominate the general story arc. Such makes the whole affair endlessly intriguing; a vigorous breath of fresh air for those of us who are long exhausted, dulled to fury with the timid, rote manner in which the genre of laughter is so often served up on the silver screen.

The narrative concerns Milton and Kendra (courageous, attention-garnering enactments by Johnny Sederquist and Elyssa Baldassarri that are full of surprising dimension and heart). After an extended six-minute opening, that is just as successful in establishing Milton’s carnal promiscuity as it is the string of rousingly victorious and well-timed unorthodox gags which pop up throughout the duration of the picture, our male lead swears to better himself and absolve such sinful deeds. Cut to Kendra waking up “Somewhere in Mexico”. She is disoriented, disrobed and has little remembrance of how she got there. As can be readily anticipated, the paths of the two unite during a motel stay. A date soon ensues that pushes the promises the two have made quickly out of the way. After finding out that they have the same father, their collective passions and fleshly indiscretions heighten to new zeniths entire. Eventually, this anything but standard issue romance is tested. Such occurrs as the outside world, especially a pair of religious fanatics that the second half of the chronicle gets to know in depth, try to enact their fervent sense of moralism upon them.

This represents another show-stopping exhibition of range for both Scorpio Film Releasing and the incredibly talented and the always reliable director, Richard Griffin. Being his third collaboration with Schwartz, their first such venture was the spectacularly inventive 2012 slasher saga Murder University and the 2013 drama Normal, the duo remain a terrific creative team. Griffin, who is marked as the ‘Drunken Film Director’ in the end credits, and his behind the lens work here is the perfect combination of indie artistry and its respective spirit. In particular, his ability to bring us something wholly unique and liberated from the conventional trappings of mainstream cinema. This characteristic is visible in the ravishing manner in which it incorporates five endlessly uproarious tunes throughout. Each of these ravishing, anything but commonplace ditties are every bit as side-splitting and amusing as the one which came beforehand. Among these are the Crimson-Al Khelmia (who depicts Angel #1) penned ditty “Nicolas Cage”, which utilizes the title actor’s movies as erotic innuendos with magnificent results, and “Circuit Board Christ”. The latter track oversees The Lord, God Almighty (played with fervent relish by the author of the number, Aaron Andrade) displaying his lyrical prowess in what can be described as a dead-on parody of modern hip hop clichés. Not only are these show-stopping, off-the wall segments that represent the un-fettered spirit of the piece entire but, they are among the best moments in the entirety of the exertion. The send-off tune, “Sentimental Incest”, sung by Jesse DuFault, The Young Adults performed and co-scribed “Kill Yourself”, and the Mark Cutler authored and Patrick Keefee executed, “Next Door Neighbor”, are unswervingly adroit. Such sonic oddities, and the routines which often accompany them, simultaneously remind us of the story’s stage roots (as does the leads’ various intimate discussions with the camera as if such is a silent audience). Similarly, it succeeds as both extensions of tone and sheer entertainment. Griffin, true to the form he established in earlier endeavors, drapes the project in nods to various other genres. An example of this is seen in a repeated shot of a sign for a motel. Composed over Jill Poisson’s gorgeous and sleek black and white cinematography, this scant segment wonderfully calls to mind a noir fabrication from the 30’s. Yet, despite such occasional departures the general demeanor of the composition is rooted in our modern times. The attitudes and point of views from the personages on-screen highlight this point incessantly.

Not only is this escapade beautiful to look at, with its brief color bits as eye-catching as its aforementioned classic cinema veneer, but its allure stretches beyond the screen. There are layers of emotion to the tale that are made all the more immersive and powerful due to the sheer talent at hand. Timothy Fife’s music is brilliant. The visual effects by Jill Poisson and John Dusek are skillful and astounding. Griffin’s contribution as editor is just as exceptional here as it was in his previous escapadeses such as 2015’s similarly genius Seven Dorms of Death and Flesh for the Inferno. Angela Shulman’s art direction is astounding. Also, every cast member is spectacular in their roles and make them wholly their own. Tonya Free as the oblivious wife of a homosexual, Susan, does a fantastic job of delivering wild guffaws. This is through the medium of facial expressions and the well-hewn dialogue coursing throughout the affair. Jose Guns Alves as The Anxious Man, Anna Rizzo as Tabitha, Jamie Lyn Bagley as Jen, Jesse Dufault as Rex and Christian Masters as Alex fare just as incredibly. Laura Pepper delivers another display of her magnificent rib-tickling aptitude in her brief, but certainly memorable, part as The Brain Damaged Wife. Bernard Larrivvee Jr. is just as stupendous as the eye-patched hotel manager. Paul Lucenti as Issac, Kevin Kilavey as Tool, Dan Mauro as Bob, Sean Carufel as Wesley, Christopher L. Ferreira as Tyler, Rich Tretheway as Kevin, Ryan Hanley as St. Peter, Michael Thurber as Harrison, Rosemary Pacheco as a receptionist, Sissy O’ Hara as a landlady, James Bagley as a doctor, Mark Hutchinson as a bartender and Steven O’ Broin as Dr. Emil Locust are delightful in their corresponding depictions. Knate Higgins as Sven, Casey Wright as Ariel and Erin M. Olson as Mary also embody their portrayals just as masterfully as those mentioned previously.

Griffin and Schwartz’s latest collaboration is an example of high-risk taking resulting in a singular, innovative and distinctively captivating experience. There is a finely etched concern for all of the individuals we meet along the way. It is both smart and exuberant. Furthermore, the arrangement entire showcases proudly the admiration for motion pictures of the past and present. This has become another of Griffin’s many charming staple attributes. In an age when mainstream romantic-comedies are so by the numbers we can predict every movement the story takes before we even sit down to view it, Accidental Incest seems determined to take these routine twists and demolish them. In turn, we are delivered a completely capricious undergoing. The result is wall to wall cackles at situations ‘polite society’ would turn their nose up at. There is also an unexpected mirth, a merriment to the proceedings that is genuine. Such is another component multi-million dollar Hollywood productions package artificially, as if via an assembly line. Griffin’s feature is a grand masterpiece; authentic, rousing and both ground and rule-breaking. For those of us who enjoy boundaries being pushed so far away from our eyes that we are capable of enjoying the briefly held sense of being truly and utterly free: this feature, along with all of Griffin’s other celluloid journeys, should go immediately to the top of your ‘must-see’ list.

“A Life Not To Follow”- (Movie Review)

February 6, 2016February 6, 2016 moviesforlife092 Comments

By Andrew Buckner

Rating: ***** out of *****.

A Life Not To Follow, written by Pedro Alvarado and director Christopher Di Nunzio and released through Creepy Kid Productions, is a knockout neo-noir, gangster crime- drama set in Boston, Massachusetts. It garners its endless effectiveness by investing as much time and concern in the personal lives of its leads as it does sharpening its increasingly gritty narrative edge. Also helping the stalwart nature of this achievement is that the composition is propelled by a brilliantly crafted script. It drips with smart, yet credibly graphic banter and appropriately dark cinematography by Nolan Yee. The proficient editing by Di Nunzio and an astonishing contribution from the sound department only enhances these previously stated characteristics with its rugged veneer. With the further incorporation of a spectacularly mood-setting score from Eros Cartechini, convincing visual effects by Mike Shea and Jessice-Lee Van Winkle as well as riveting performances from everyone involved, Di Nunzio has crafted an indie masterpiece. It is one that plays like a gloriously original hybrid of the distinct storytelling attributes of Quentin Tarantino, with three ‘chapters’ which each act as both a single saga and an interconnected narrative with each of its leads is the star, with the constant craftsmanship and demeanor of an early Martin Scorsese classic. This stylistic blend makes the one hundred and five minutes of this already tightly-knit picture appear to move all the more briskly and engagingly. It also helps the proceedings radiate an art house sensibility. Such is one that also alternates as pure entertainment. These characteristics, along with Di Nunzio’s singular and stupendous directorial eye, concoct a raw, human filmic experience.

Such a conclusion is drawn primarily due to the tremendous restraint shown here from drawing distinct lines between whom is protagonist or antagonist. There is no judgment on any of our central characters as a lesser movie would be all too apt to do. Alvarado and Di Nunzio have created real people. They are complete with both regrets, faults and unique accomplishments in tow. Because of this we spend each of its trio of segments getting fairly and equally acquainted with our leads. These are the youthful ruffian, Eric DiVenardi (a remarkable portrayal by Fiore Leo that is fiery, vulnerable and endlessly engrossing), the hitman, Angelo (a depiction by John Martellucci where many of the same sentiments apply) and the Insomnia gripped F.B.I. agent, Tobias Kane (a representation by David Graziano that is just as absorbing as those he is paired up against). This makes for a far more intimate, multi-layered endeavor. It is one where the perspective and personal lives of each of these individuals is carefully fleshed out. Furthermore, it is smartly given its own time to unveil its respective side to the audience. This, ultimately, makes its stirring, tremendously done finale all the more nail-bitingly harrowing and intense. In its climactic moments we find ourselves on all sides at once. This is because we have endowed so much interest into DiVenardi, Angelo and Tobias Kane. It’s an act that few silver screen affairs have attempted. Even more notably, it is one even less cinematic exertions have pulled off in such a rousingly triumphant fashion.

Retribution and vengeance, two undeniably similar subjects which are well-represented in features such as these, are recurring themes throughout the first pair of segments. In the first section, we meet DiVenardi just short of the five minute mark. He is adorned in a gray sweatshirt with the hood pulled over most of his countenance; a look of fear and alarm visibly striking him. Before he even speaks we are wondering about his plight and why he is so apprehensive. Soon we learn that he is terrified of losing his life and a violent atonement may be his only answer to avoid such a fate. The second division continues this contemplation. It does this by introducing us to Angelo, whose closest acquaintance may have to take a bullet from him or else find himself on the receiving end of one. In the closing forty-three minutes all three personalities link. This transpires as Kane’s search for a young woman takes him down an unexpected route.

There are twists aplenty to the account. Unlike many celluloid epics nowadays which want to show off their narrative cleverness, they never feel forced. Instead these events go the more admirable course and follow the natural progression of events. This only adds to the genuine display of aptitude that flows consistently through every frame. Alvarado and Di Nunzio sprinkle elements of relationships, romantic and professional, into the plotline. These take us even further into the already richly erected, and singular, worlds of DiVenardi, Angelo and Kane. Moreover, it makes the stakes all the higher for each individual as we know all of them so personally. In turn, the intensity is made all the more ruthless and palpable, especially in the more sentimental instances, as we anxiously await the outcome in store. There is a care shown here from commencement to conclusion for characterization. It is as alive in its central personas as it is in for its secondary cast. Even those with extremely limited screen time, like The Razor (James L. Leite) or Victor (Angel Garcia), have a magnetic charisma, an enigmatic likability to them that makes us want to know more. Their enactments, as well as Michael Capozzi as Luca Trapini, Molly Kay as Eliza Cushing, Ericka Derrickson as Finola and the rest of the crew, are phenomenal. This only makes these well-developed personages seem to leap all the more effortlessly off the screen and forever into our hearts and minds.

DiNunzio’s A Life Not To Follow works spectacularly on all fronts. It transitions from drama to thriller easily. What is just as incredible is that it respects the traditions of similar entries in its sub-genre without ever forgetting to be its own entity. It never peers away from the emotional focus, whether visibly stated or subtly drawn, in the way it follows it stays close to those who populate the screen. This is also accomplished with the numerous sequences of love and anger which often intermingle throughout. This makes for a well-rounded, strikingly made rollercoaster ride for the senses. It is one that can only be defined as ‘pure experience’. This is a journey that I am eager to take again. Additionally, it is one that I highly recommend taking yourself. DiNunzio is a fantastic talent. The proof of this is emblazoned throughout every moment herein.

The Hateful Eight- (Movie Review)

January 9, 2016January 9, 2016 moviesforlife09Leave a comment

By Andrew Buckner

Rating: ***** out of *****.

Quentin Tarantino remains one of the most brilliant storytellers of our time. This is especially true with his eighth film, The Hateful Eight. His unbridled passion for his craft, the saga he is weaving and the respect for the patience, maturity and intelligence of his audience is ever-present here. It also gives him a pulpit to take uncountable risks. For example, Tarantino fills our ears with his endlessly engaging, beautifully written and snappy, often oddly poetic, dialogue. In this duration there is not a single shot fired, rarely an instant of action in its most accepted respect, until one hundred and one minutes in. Despite this, the threat of violence is always present. This adds various layers of gradually building intrigue and suspense to the banter. The set-up becomes akin to a bomb that we know will explode at any moment. The question is simply when this will occur. Such provides further proof that his Best Original Screenplay win for Django Unchained in 2012 was certainly merited. This makes the proceedings unfold in the manner of a great novel: confident, bold and meticulously mounted. It is also further testament to how well-orchestrated Tarantino’s writing, direction and narrative remain throughout.

Such a large portion of the runtime, dictated on-screen as the first three ‘chapters’, gets us to intimately know the motivations, the backstory and singular personages of each individual. Few directors could pull off the feat of entertaining us as much with mere speech, especially when most features are content to give audiences exactly what they expect as soon as they sit down in the theater, in such grand fashion. It all leads to a twist-filled, irony laced and inevitably brutal succession of segments which pose well over the last hour of the endeavor. This climactic bit is just as amusing as what came before it for wholly new reasons.

There is not a moment in its one hundred and sixty-seven minutes (with the exclusive 70 millimeter roadside shows running one hundred and eighty-seven minutes and including a musical overture and intermission to add to its wonderfully vintage impression) where we are not purely entertained. Whether this arises from Robert Richardson’s gorgeous cinematography (which takes full advantage of the natural beauty of the many moments illustrating snowfall to alluring effect), Fred Raskin’s proficient editing or Ennio Morricone’s appropriately tense and haunting score this attribute is undeniable. But, the trait that lingers with the audience the longest is the vividly developed, darkly charismatic, compulsively watchable characters themselves. These title individuals are all despicable in their own right. There is no false advertising here. Despite this, the performances are all so incredible (Samuel L. Jackson as Major Marquis Warren, Kurt Russell as the bounty hunter, John Ruth, and Jennifer Jason Leigh as the prisoner, Daisy Domergue, are especially astonishing) that we find ourselves enraptured, even caring, for at least a handful of these brash beings in some way. These personalities, as well as the piece itself, is sheer Tarantino. These elements provide further proof that he is a maestro performing at the height of his talent.

Another successful endeavor in risk- taking unveiled here is setting approximately 4/5 of this three hour epic inside the cramped confines of Minnie’s Habadashery. At first glance the setting seems quaint and sparse. It would give even the most imaginative of directors little to do after the hour and a half marker. This is when most productions, particularly the plethora of low budget horror exertions which take place in a single setting, would gracefully bow out. Yet, with Tarantino at the wheel the movie is far from long enough. Here he spins and erects one fresh idea after another. This is done to keep our interest continually blooming to new peaks. Most astonishingly, he finds ways to build up tension from everyday elements. Often this manifests itself in the form of a chair or a cup.

As this small setting becomes the stage for this post- Civil-War narrative, we find the eight assembling in this claustrophobic expanse after a fantastically done and riveting half hour long sequence exhibiting travel via stagecoach. This early bit immediately captures our attention. Moreover, it also sets the tone for the dialogue heavy emphasis of much of the picture.

Afterwards we find Ruth, alongside Warren, continuing his mission to bring Domergue to Red Rock’s hangman, who happens to be on the premises in the form of Oswaldo Mobray (Tim Roth), is thrown off course by the wintry weather and the stay. The slimy self-proclaimed sheriff of Red Rock, Chris Mannix (Walton Goggins), who we also meet during this aforementioned opening segment, finds himself in the same situation. Here we meet Bob (Damien Bichir), who claims to be watching the place for Minnie. We are also introduced to the confederate general Sanford Smithers (Bruce Dern) and the “cowboy” Joe Gage (Michael Madsen). Soon secrets are revealed, prejudices rise and these individuals turn on one another.

Tarantino adds elements of mystery, action, bloodshed, dismemberment and drama to this far from traditional take on the western. It makes this genre stew all the more varied, unpredictable and savory as we watch it unravel. The secondary cast, mostly seen in flashback, of Sweet Dave (Gene Jones), the unusually upbeat Six-Horse Judy (Zoe Bell), and Jody (Channing Tatum) all add to this blend. This is done with tremendously rich performances. Furthermore, it is enhanced with characters that are all much their own entity.

The Hateful Eight is pure genius. It is a movie for movie lovers made by a man whose admiration for this particular venue pulsates through its every tremendously realized frame. Many may be put off by the effort’s almost blasé attitude toward contemporary ideologies of pace, characterization and its sheer length. But, this is what makes Tarantino and his compositions, especially this one, so special. When you purchase a ticket to a Tarantino feature it is the unknown, not the mechanisms of a mainstream product, which make his work a continual marvel; a vigorous breath of innovative fresh air to sit through. It is also the necessary reminder we all need of why so many have such an endlessly admiration and fascination with this particular creative form. Moreover, it recalls a motion picture’s ability to transport its audience to another time and place and to be enraptured in a great, well-told account. This is another sign of Tarantino as a true artist. The fact that reviews of this misunderstood masterpiece have been so largely divided only confirm this. Give Tarantino the Best Director, Best Screenplay and Best Picture awards immediately. He sure has earned it. This is cinema at its finest.

“Chi-Raq”- (Movie Review)

January 1, 2016 moviesforlife091 Comment

By Andrew Buckner
Rating: ***** out of *****.

Spike Lee has created one the most ferociously original movies of the year with Chi-Raq. Lee utilizes the Greek comedic play Lysistrata by Aristophanes, first performed in 411 B.C., as inspiration for a full-bodied, robust, lively and ground-breaking cinematic opus. In its blisteringly unique and endlessly watchable one hundred and twenty-seven minutes, Lee’s latest informs, teaches (a haunting early bit fills our sights with terrifying statistics concerning gun violence), preaches and fills us with alternating bouts of love, heartache, drama, tragedy and sorrow.

True to many of Lee’s prior efforts, the composition is largely a musical. This is complimented by much of the dialogue being formulated in couplets (as was true with Aristophanes’ play which this is based upon). Such gives the already highly emotive proceedings a heightened sense of poetry. Yet, this exertion is also filled with genuinely effective humor, tragedy, smart writing from Kevin Willmott and an unbridled confidence in risk-taking from director and co-scripter Lee. This is the type of film you watch in sheer admiration, with mouth unhinged throughout, at the sheer genius, range, allegory and victoriously executed and novel ideas which fills every frame of the runtime.

The movie concerns itself with topics that are both timeless and pulled from front page news. Heightening the immediacy of what Lee is stating this often occurs simultaneously within the same second, passage or context. Lee addresses, in his trademark and always admirable no-holds barred manner, America’s increasing gun obsession, sex, death, politics and war. This approach makes the material all the more commanding and authoritative. Still, it takes time to intimately know every one of its characters. It never betrays the operatic stage-play roots of the source material. This transpires as various members peer into the camera, as if addressing their captive audience, and speak of their life, experience or personal beliefs. Sometimes they simply announce their own notions on what is transpiring in the plot at that particular second. This adds to the bravura style, singularity and genuine respect towards the perspective of Lee’s varied cast.

This is most evident in a large plot-point taken from Lysistrata. Here women withhold intimacy from the men in their lives in an endeavor to negotiate peace. The work radiantly uses this as a chance to discuss the differing viewpoints of males and females. Not only does this give us a chance to dig deeper into the minds, hearts and souls of those we follow on this harrowing journey, but it also uses the story as a pulpit for a plethora of themes many motion pictures are too timid to touch on. This is especially in the brazen fashion Lee does here. Elements such as these are employed in such a way that they also build upon and enhance other aspects of the narrative. It all comes together to make the endeavor as a whole all the more substantial and strong. Furthermore, this all helps make the effort consistently relatable, fresh and striking. It is guaranteed to bring about lively discussion afterward.

This is the definition of a well-rounded movie-going experience.
Lee tells the tale of Lysistrata (Teyonah Parris in a herculean and always gripping portrayal). She arranges a demonstration against the brutality in the streets of south-side Chicago after a young, innocent child is killed by a bullet. This eventually turns the men against the women. This, in turn, creates further divides among residents and political officials in the area. These components gradually become global. As Lysistrata fights for peace against the war zone she resides in, such is where the title comes into play, the world debates, follows or denies Lysistrata’s actions. It gives the proceedings even more of a news broadcast flare. This is illuminated by repeated instances. Here we watch reports of our characters’ actions and ideologies causing the world to ‘wake up’, as Lee informs us to do before the end credits here just as he did in his 1989 magnum opus Do the Right Thing, and let their own voices be collectively heard.

As can be easily recognized the chronicle is compelling, highly dramatically charged material. If this was done even in a straight-forward manner it would be immediate and masterful in its own right. Yet, among this Lee furthers the breadth and ambitious scope of the feature and adds lavish musical numbers aplenty. These owe as much to the adapted story’s stage roots as big-budget Hollywood productions of such an ilk from the 1940’s and 50’s. Every last one of these successions, whether portrayed for tears or for laughs (as is the case with one highly amusing satirical piece involving a Civil-War canon called “Whistling Dick”), are riveting and triumphantly done in their own right. One late scene where rapper Chi-Raq (Nick Cannon in a beautifully done and convincing performance) and Lysistrata take their battle of the sexes onto a brass bed is especially memorable. It is also appropriately reserved for near the finale. This is because it seems to cumulate all the symbolism, uses addressed beforehand into one breathless experience. There is a gritty, poetic, watchable energy beneath this late sequence all that in many ways a mirror to an early part, a tuneful number in its own right, where Chi-Raq raps at a club. During this time, text message-like blurbs announcing his lyrics and comments from his spectators surround him. This is an imaginative image, one of many that are guaranteed to stay engraved in your psyche long after the feature has concluded, that is as aesthetically pleasing and artistic as it is entertaining. Both incidents are fascinating for both ear and eye. The same can be said for the film itself.

All the technical components are just as successful in transmitting Lee’s distinct vision to the screen. Matthew Libatique’s cinematography is crisp, striking and gorgeous. Ryan Denmark and Hye Mee Na’s editing and Cynthia Anne Slagter and Kl Kenzie’s set decoration are just as remarkable. The special and visual effects and Ruth E. Carter’s costume design are also terrific. This is punctuated by a score from Terrence Blanchard that captures all of the strength in the emotions of the account. These high-quality factors contribute to the extra value of the piece tremendously.

Samuel L. Jackson, as Dolmedes, and John Cusack, as Father Mike Corridan, deliver fiery, charismatic performances. When we first meet Cusack’s character giving a speech to a congregation the sheer passion he radiates in his anti-gun violence message and in Cusack’s enactment evokes one of the best, fully-feeling moments in a movie wall to wall with one great section after another. Angela Bassett, as Miss Helen, Jennifer Hudson, as Irene, and Dave Chapelle, as Morris, are all phenomenal in roles which demonstrate stupendous range. Wesley Snipes, as Cyclops, and David Patrick Kelley, as General King Kong, all make their respective personages singular and full of life with equally memorable cast contributions.

Lee has crafted one of his best undertakings to date here. He continues to present subject matter that has been a constant in this visionary artist’s compositions since She’s Gotta Have It in 1986. Regardless, he continues to find fresh, new ways to communicate his message. These are clear and articulate yet, much unlike any way we have quite seen or heard them given to us before. He also goes in invigorating new avenues. It makes the joyous sum of this endeavor all the more liberating to be swept up in. This is cinema as a tool of education and engagement. Lee is a professor and Chi-Raq is a masterclass.

“Everest” – (Movie Review)

December 27, 2015December 27, 2015 moviesforlife09Leave a comment

Rating: **1/2 out of *****
By Andrew Buckner

Everest, from director Baltasar Kormakur (2012’s fair Contraband, 2013’s disappointing 2 Guns), is a film that is every bit as generic as its title suggests. It is structured far too visibly after standard issue big-budget natural disaster works. Franc Roddam’s K2, from 1991, and Frank Marshall’s Alive, from 1993, come instantly to mind. It’s evidence that we have all seen this done far better many times beforehand.

To its credit, there are potentially interesting characters in this fact based story. The problem is that William Nicholson and Simon Beaufoy’s unappealing screenplay turns them all into plot-serving conventions. They become walking genre tropes who deliver heavy doses of personal backstory when the script deems it necessary to combat its numerous lulls. One extended scene, at about thirty-five minutes in, makes this especially obvious. Predictably, the screenplay summons the cast to expose their heroism and individual weaknesses at other standard intervals. This comes off as just as calculated. It also drains the movie of any potential emotional impact it wishes to attain.

This all could’ve been compelling material. Such would’ve been the case if the endeavor wasn’t so adamant about making everything so familiar. To be fair, most of the leads are generally easy to root for. Oddly, any trace of relatability to these individuals seems to be completely removed. It spends so much of the duration forcing us to care for those who populate the screen that it never really tries to make them unique and worthy of our concern. Because of this Everest never quite gets out of the shadow of this glaring failure. This immeasurably hinders the proceedings. It also makes its shortcomings all the more visible.

The always watchable Jake Gyllenhaal provides one of the few bright spots as Scott Fischer. Though he is likeable, and captures the attention in every bit he is in, he is used sparingly. Emily Watson, as Helen Wilton, and Josh Brolin, as Beck Weathers, turn in serviceable portrayals. They go through the motions with equally bland results. They are greatly held back by the writers treating these personalities like cinematic stock. This is depressing given the high-caliber talent these A-list individuals convey. Prior roles prove this. Still, they can only do so much with such scant material. The same can be said for Sam Worthington, as Guy Cotter, and Keira Knightly as Jan Hall.

Salvatore Totino’s cinematography is undoubtedly beautiful. Still, it is no better than what can be found in similar undertakings. This is especially disappointing given that the movie seems to be often abandon characterizations to floor audiences on this aspect alone. Such is true in the uneven and unfocused second hour. Like far too many attributes in this failed attempt at making the audience hold their breath in anticipation of what will occur next: this cinematic affair plays things far too safely.

The one hundred and twenty one minute depiction attempts to portray a disaster on Mount Everest. This occurs in March, 1996. Such an event finds two expedition groups fighting for their survival. Such transpires when a snow storm threatens the title mountain. Leaders of these groups are Rob Hall, Jason Clarke in a fair enough performance, and Fischer (Gyllenhaal). As the situation becomes increasingly worse one potentially nail-biting coincidence leads to another. All the while the individuals trapped in these horrific conditions band together in hopes that they will make it through this terrifying circumstance.

Much of the second half is where the exertion makes its most obvious attempts at generating suspense. This is where the composition succeeds. It also has strong stretches of promising build-up preluding these instances. As the risks become all the more daunting, Kormakur gives us tremendously designed and credible segments of peril. They are endearing and almost always intriguing because of their understated nature. Moreover, they never abandon the dramatic origins of the tale. If only more of these words could be applied to more of the feature’s technical aspects we might’ve truly had something special here.

The pace is choppy. Oddly enough, the piece seems hell-bent on constantly disemboweling viewer interest as soon as it begins to become genuinely compelling. Such is done almost singularly on its bizarre structure. This is after a first hour that is desperate, lumbering and made all the more faux and painful by its constantly forced and inane dialogue. Such incorporates the many failed attempts to establish the protagonists.

Kormakur dearly wants to make us care about those who populate the screen. This is certainly admirable. He wants us to impress upon ourselves the worry, fear, heartache and sorrow that accrues once these individuals’ lives are later endangered. Such could’ve put us in the leads’ shoes easily. It could’ve also added a potency that simply is not there. The underwhelming execution, even with its well-done buildup in check, is what sinks this honest exertion.

When the focus turns to full-on intensity, as is the case in the last forty-five minutes, it accumulates attention. Sadly, this is intercepted by hackneyed attempts to keep the personal stories going. These elements are so poorly handled throughout that they always distract us when the story seems to be building momentum. If this pivotal aspect functioned better this would’ve been far more engaging and satisfactory. What’s worse is that this all leads to a finale that is glaringly obvious from its commencement. This provokes a groan where should be exhilaration. Such can also be applied when summarizing the impression of sitting through the effort itself.

The score by composer Dario Marianelli is also highly generalized. This attribute is used subtly, smartly. It gives the sequences it is administered in a quietly hypnotic power. Moreover, it isn’t overused, as is the case of many similar pictures, to heighten emotional intensity by becoming overblown. Such works to its benefit.

Mick Audsley’s editing is proficient. The sound, as well as the visual and special effects, follow suit. There are many positive traits employed throughout. But, ultimately, there just simply aren’t enough of these stalwart details to overcome its obvious shortcomings.

It all creates a motion picture which is largely stale and often seems like it is on auto-pilot. Everest is confident that it will make your jaw-drop with the veneer of the claustrophobia inducing mountains. The same conviction is unveiled in the spectacularly sweeping glean and menace of the hazardous weather hammering down upon those trapped on the elevation. Furthermore, it is just as assured that it will make your heart frenziedly beat in your chest from its various cliffhanger scenarios. Because of this it blatantly appears to all but ignore the meat, the substance which makes an otherwise mediocre exercise genuinely worthwhile.

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