DVD Review: Vengeance Road

Year: 2014
Director: Ravi Dhar
Screenplay: John Fallon
Starring: Nick Principe, Robin Sydney, Todd Farmer

 
Synopsis is here

 
Vengeance Road (altered from its more confusing U.S title American Muscle) lost a lot of its luster the moment our anti-hero John Falcone bangs his first broad. We're told (on the film's marketing) that Falcone has spent ten years in jail has now has 24 hours to claim his revenge on those who wrong him. The thing is, the film never really bothers with the semantics so if it hadn't been for me double checking the synopsis on the imdb, I wouldn't have had a clue that Mr Falcone had a set time frame. The film seemingly cares little about the details.

As Vengeance Road unfolds, we are handed an unsurprising revenge movie chock full of phoney cgi blood and bullet holes and grisly meat shouldered men who all look like Stone Cold and/or Bill Goldberg. These men are covered in a golden shower of mediocre fucking and fighting that do little to tease anything out of those darker recesses that lay dormant in many a viewer's mind. To the film's credit, it only clocks in a hasty 74 minutes, however, this time could be shorter if you're unable to deal with the screenplays flat dialogue or how these should be wrestlers spew it into the air.

There's very little else I can say about Vengeance Road. Those who are deathly into the neo-Grindhouse may find more in this than myself. However, I found little in this film to recommend. I found Vengeance Road, much like the film itself found it's scantily clad females. Disposable.

Review: Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance)

Year: 2014 (2015 U.K Release)
Director: Alejandro González Iñárritu
Screenplay: Alejandro González Iñárritu, Nicolás Giacobone, Alexander Dinelaris, Jr, Armando Bo
Starring: Michael Keaton

Synopsis is here

Wesley Morris in his positive review of Birdman questions whether its director; Alejandro González Iñárritu, has a certain type of artistic insecurity that set him apart from the likes of Alfonso Cuarón and Guillermo del Toro. A creator of grand, depressive moral tales such as 21 Grams, or Babel, I would suggest that such insecurity could come from Iñárritu's view on scope. Cuaron's 2001 road movie Y Tu Mamá También, for example, is a tidy road movie, which uses simple gestures to provide its rich emotional message. Its climatic scene delivers a small revelation which brings everything that was previously seen in perspective. Del Toro is also similar. Even within his richly detailed worlds, the people we meet remain simple and relatable.

Iñárritu often wishes to pummel you with an extremely crushing world view, which rears its head even in the films of his I've enjoyed. Iñárritu's Bitiful brings forth so much depression on such a large scale, it streams past overwhelming is descends into overbearing. The film is so bludgeoning it made me want to find a copy of the Bicycle Thieves (1948) and give a class on how to make misery manageable. Keep it simple, and you won't lose the audience.

Iñárritu's latest feature; Birdman, however, seems to work due to a condensing the whole soul crushing globalism angle. Everything is stripped down to the (still quite large) ego of actor Riggan Thomson (Keaton), who is leaving vapid blockbusters to produce a small play of personal truth. The conflicts stem from this man not understanding that the audience has changed and his search for truth has boiled down to the laboured binary of social media. Meanwhile the theatrical critical eye may not take too kindly to a man who's built his (now forgotten) fame on some bland franchise. The film holds a Synecdoche, New York (2008) vibe to proceedings. Here is a man whose insecurities are spiralling out of control in such way, that he needs them to be shrunk down. It's almost as if Iñárritu may have been absorbing some of the more negative reviews of his films. Amusingly, there is still a sense of a dominant global regime oppressing everything in its path, but it's slimmed down to merely an ex Hollywood player and his industry as opposed to the all-compassing feelings of awful affecting every orifice of life itself.

Birdman is smart about the state of modern Hollywood film making. At one moment, it's suggested that everyone major player now must don a cape now to gain work, the joke being that Keaton's Riggis not only used to be a superhero in this film, but Keaton himself set the modern ball rolling with his casting in Batman (1989), a film which helped shape some of the worst aspects of modern mainstream cinema. Some of which we now see cynically mutated into their present form by Birdman's hand.  Many of Birdman's humorous moment works when fiction bleeds into real life. The "process" of pretentious method actor Mike Shiner (Norton) becomes amusing when you consider his own background. Not only with comic book movies (he was once the Hulk), but also the rumours of Norton being difficult to work with. Seeing Norton having a ball with his rumoured personality, has a certain charm to his scenes. A wonderful exchange between Naomi Watt's Lesley and Andrea Riseborough's Laura is pitch perfect:

Lesley: "I wish I had more self-respect!"

Laura: "You're an actress."

My mind quickly casts back to when a flustered Watt's exited her interview with Simon Mayo early, while on promotional duty for the much maligned Diana (2013). The film also nails a particular type of critic (an icy Lindsey Duncan), whose more interested in their personal axes to grind rather than the name of art. It's amusing because the element of truth hits the right note. A sense of balance that Iñárritu would struggle with when giving us his more sensitive features.

The films flights of fancy are still grand and preposterous. It features a climax which mimics the opening of 8 ½ (1963). Morris also makes comparisons to Fellini and I'm inclined to agree as the film shares similar elements with the aforementioned title, although Birdman seems less interested in how the women of Riggis' life affect his personality. The film still seems a little bit more entertained with snark, with the film happily dropping the sub plots which prominently feature the female cast. The films largest spectacle: making the film appear as if it is all in one long take, is a brave and often beguiling approach. So much so that it can feel a little more distracting than engaging.

It's when the films injects its dark brand of humour, or allows the camera to settle on the smaller moments which allow the film to be at its most truthful. A sub plot featuring Emma Stone's rehabilitated daughter; Sam and the arrogant Mike is one of the most prominent sequences of the film. It's not so much what they say as opposed to how they say it and how intimately they're framed. Such framing becomes important for a film about a transitional period, which seemingly has no apparent transitions in the sense of film language. Annoyingly, Birdman loses its way, by deeming the stories more engaging sub-plots as unimportant, but spending so much time with them you wonder why they're present. Then again, it may be part of the joke.

Despite this, Birdman's lighter approach is refreshing from a filmmaker who mostly enjoys roaming in the gloom. The craft makes the film worth seeing once. The satirical edge and the sight of Michael Keaton reclaiming some of that edgy, manic energy which made him such a stalwart of the 80's/90's makes gives the film a great amount of heft. But above all this, Birdman's more concise viewpoint doesn't bog us down. After the weighty moralising that clouded the likes of Bitiful, the lightness of Birdman allows a viewer to get on board with its message. No matter how large the egos grow. Strangely, I find it no surprise that Piers Morgan has stated that he hated the film. So to be fair, a man with an ego as big as his despising this movie, definitely makes something like Birdman worth watching.

Review: Escape From Tomorrow

Year: 2013 (U.K Release 2014)
Director: Randy Moore
Screenplay: Randy Moore
Starring: Roy Abramsohn, Elena Schuber, Katelynn Rodriguez, Annet Mahendru, Danielle Safady, Alison Lees-Taylor

Synopsis is here:

Despite suddenly appearing on Netflix awkwardly, like a Vine comedian whose has been deemed sexist, Escape from Tomorrow caused quite a stir within cinephiles due to its conception. Its director; Randy Moore uses a combination of iPhones for scripting and consumer grade DSLR cameras to create an entire feature film within Disneyland, Florida, without permission from the owners. Moore's film holds more footage of Mickey's merchandise, rides and scenery than a regular Hollywood feature would be able to legitimately pay for. When viewing the film in its entirety, you can see it's not just a gutsy move, but a logistical nightmare. The film was clearly planned in a way to conceal what Moore and his crew was actually doing. Moore himself was so worried that someone might catch what he was up to, he edited the film in South Korea.

While one could deem the shoot problematic, you can't say that all the work wasn't worth it. Moore is able to show the "happiest place on earth" in a negative view, while avoiding Disney's notorious lawyers. Fair play to the man. Yet despite this, I found Escape from Tomorrow's origins to be more interesting than the film itself. Moore's film; a deeply personal film that delves into a newly unemployed man; Jim White, descending into madness during his family's last day at Disney, is often hampered by the guerrilla tactics that allow the film to even be. The film's blurry, out of focus monochrome visuals were considered by the director not only to ease the pressure of editing, but to shape the bizarre imagery itself. This brings mixed results, as the film is a blend of artsy home video and rushed student production. Unlike the early fixtures of the mumblecore movement, the film never feels at ease visually. Yet in a ludicrous catch-22, the film could not be produced in any other way. At one point, a family argument ends with the camera fumbling gracelessly at the infamous castle merely to establish that once again, Disney is the backdrop.

Escape from Tomorrow also suffers from a flaky narrative which nods towards the surreal but lacks true cohesion. We witness Disney Princesses shown to be high class hookers to Asian businessmen, how does this connect with hypnotising evil queens, cat flu outbreaks and a regressive sci-fi experiment? The connective tissue is irritatingly loose. There's clearly a way of making all this ambition gel, but possibly not by having the protagonist father ogling underage teens. Making this one of the driving factors of the plot does little to drive compassion. Then again, the White family is difficult to draw any empathy from in the first place. 

I found myself comparing EFT to Clare Denis' Bastards (2013), a film which starts out as equally as oblique as this one, albeit not as surreal. Bastards also follows an unsympathetic family, and yet the film's tone, the performances and mosaic editing had me absorbed in its puzzle. Escape from Tomorrow struggles under the weight of what it is, and so never truly comes together emotionally or conceptually.

Escape from Tomorrow never really gains a sense of self, although it does well to push the "sinster Disney" angle. This only ever feels like part of the puzzle. Moore; whose childhood clearly has ties to both Disney and his own father (their relationship deteriorated as Moore grew), clearly wishes to excavate some demons with his piece. Some elements work conceptually while the underlying themes could speak volumes if Moore had more time to work on the film's flaws. At a time in which critic A.O Scott laments at mainstream America's arrested development, Escape from Tomorrow's setting and ideas set a troubling reminder of how childhood fantasy, adult mortality and capitalist ideals can converge and warp the sense of family intimacy. Watching the film after the Sony Hack also help illustrate how one can take a pot shot at corporations by using creative methods or destructive ones. One does hope that more can distil some of his ambition and implement his talents into something that won't have him looking over his shoulder constantly.

 

Review: The Guest

Year: 2014
Director: Adam Wingard
Screenplay: Simon Barrett
Starring: Dan Stevens, Maika Monroe, Brendan Meyer, Lance Reddick

Synopsis is here

The Guest tackles a plot element in a similar way to Looper in which, when a character actually tries to boil down the barmy reasoning behind his being. They go against informing us the tricky, sticky details because it's "complicated". I was already beaming like a Cheshire cat at this point. I enjoy when films hit that right balance of self-awareness. It doesn't take you out of the film, but playfully jabs you about what you're watching. The Guest is full of moments like that. The film's final line, delightfully alludes to a certain 80's movie its makers clearly loved, yet still manages to sum up the WTF of the film. It works on two separate levels for two different viewers, and it's nice to see. Even when gussied up in an irrelevant retro thriller.

We first spot David (Dan Stevens) jogging down a deserted highway, army bag in tow, regulated breathing. He looks to be in training, or possibly running from something. The Guest lets us know soon enough, as David appears at the front door of the Petersons. David informs the family that he was an army buddy their deceased son Celeb, and he is welcomed in to stay a while has he sets some things straight. The thing is, while his blue eyes pop and he grins his warm smile, something always seems off with David.

Dan Stevens who plays the titular Guest of the film has one of those wonderful middle distance glares that he mixes with his handsome features, which makes everything about his performance in the early stages appear even more off kilter. Originally of Downton Abbey fame, this is the type of display that allows an actor to let loose and Stevens has a lot of fun here. From the aw shucks, southern accent, to the chance to show off his physique through sexually objectifying himself and hilariously gratuitous violence, Stevens not only gets into the trashy tone of the feature, but grabs at it with wide open arms.

It says a lot about a director like Adam Wingard to find the right actor to play this absurd, yet entertaining role. Taking Stevens away from what many know him for (stuffy, middle class period drama) and plunging him fully into the lead of a film that runs fast and loose with subverting politically correctness and joyously uses the likes of The Stepfather (1987) as a point of reference. Then again, as the writer/director of the highly enjoyable You're Next (2011), I should have expected as such.

Once again, Wingard delivers an inverted home invasion, in which the things you fear, are a lot closer to home than you would first expect. The film's wacky military sub-plot is outrageous in any serious consideration, but still manages to place the idea that the current military conflicts have sent back distant and dangerous young men who have been irrecoverably changed. Furthermore, the thing that they're most likely to disrupt first, is of course the good ol' American family. A unit who seems all too happy to welcome and believe unknown authority figures over their own members.

The snyth score and bold colour schemes are quick to notify you of just how much Wingard loved a certain type of 80's horror/thriller. Yet The Guest never loses itself in its homage and self-awareness. It's more of a straight up thriller in comparison to the similarly set Cold in July (2014), but never gets bogged down in its influences, unlike Ti West's The Sacrament (2013). The Guest shows Wingard growing in confidence as a genre director, the films brilliantly staged Halloween dance finale was perhaps one of the scenes I found the most enjoyable of 2014. Once again showing a director like Wingard letting everything hang out and have fun without things becoming sloppy. But that's the great thing about Wingard and a film like The Guest, everything is so tightly controlled, even when it gets messy. 

 

 

 

DVD Review: The Rover

Year: 2014
Director: David Michôd
Screenplay: Joel Edgerton, David Michôd
Starring: Guy Pearce, Robert Patterson

Synopsis is here

The Rover is a brutally grim apocalyptic thriller set 10 years after a "collapse" which ravaged Australia, possibly the world. As we enter this world, we see Australia as a sparse and deadened wasteland ravaged by the titular "event". The collapse could possibly refer to an event that has occurred within Eric (Pearce); the protagonist of the feature. If the exterior event displays the degradation of the materials we currently take for granted, then the insular collapse inside Eric is a crumbling of character and spirit. Despite this, there is a defiance within which we don't fully understand until the film's final moments. The final act by Eric will frustrate, upset and maybe even hearten. However, for a film goer like myself, writing this a day after viewing, it may also be difficult to forget.

The Rover is a lean cut of a film. There's little in terms of plot to really grasp on to, and that works in its favor. Pearce's Eric is drowning his demons in a bar before three thieves make off with his car. By chance, he captures the lead thief's brother (Robert Patterson) and the two of them work towards finding the trio and the missing vehicle.

David Michôd's second feature is much more of a mood piece than a solid set adventure. The film is far more interested in the brittleness of those who have lost everything, than a clear destination. An underlying tension pulses through many of the scenes. We find Pearce's Eric already nearing the brink of being mentally shattered. The theft of his vehicle only pushes him further down the decline. The word hardened doesn't give the man justice. Pearce again shows the type of intense performance that, we sometimes forget that he's very good at (the last thing I saw him in was the forgettable Iron Man 3 (2013))

Robert Patterson brings a jumble of man-child tics together to unleash a transformative display. Once again stepping away from the glittery vampire movies that placed him on the map, his role of Reynolds has a slight "Sling Blade (1996)" vibe to proceedings and yet, Patterson still manages to hold his own in an expressive performance that still manages to capture the despondent nature of the film.

Visually stark and with a hard edged tone that is difficult to shake off, The Rover doesn't bring everything together with the same completeness as other desolate features such as The Proposition (2008), nor does it have the same kinetic energy that the likes of Mad Max brought to post-apocalyptic worlds. But if Mad Max was about the insanity of staying mobile when everything is depleted, The Rover taps into the insular feelings of emotions themselves breaking down that Max only really held as a side note. There's the same cold feelings of dread felt here that could be found in the likes of Wake in Fright (1971) and The Road (2009), although The Rover slips at fully taking us into the world as those two examples did. That doesn't mean The Rover can't stand on its own two feet. It just means it holds good company.