Review by Sean Boelman

Based on the cult classic anthology film, Shudder’s horror-comedy series Creepshow returns to the service this week with brand new episodes containing macabre stories to delight fans. The first episode of the new season leans pretty heavily into the camp factor, but it offers plenty of great moments for the series’s followers.

The first story, “Model Kid”, is a throwback that feels very similar to the segments of the original film. Following a young boy who deals with his abusive uncle with supernatural means, it’s pretty silly, but it thankfully doesn’t take itself too seriously. It also has the characteristic moral lesson to be imparted onto the audience with a stunning finale.

Perhaps the most impressive thing about this segment is its use of practical effects. Although it does take a bit of time for the story to get moving, it has a few gnarly moments that are definite highlights. The overall design of the episode also has a very retro vibe to it that plays nicely into the comic book framing device of the property.

Kevin Dillon is the recognizable face in this episode, playing the tough-love uncle. Fans of ‘80s horror (who likely make up a majority of the series’s viewers) will love getting the opportunity to see Dillon giving another hammy turn in a horror flick after his breakout in The Blob. It might not be a particularly nuanced performance, but it’s consistently fun to watch.

The second half of the episode is likely to be what is more divisive. Although “Public Television of the Dead” is certainly funny, it also doesn’t feel like much of a Creepshow story. Instead, it’s a conglomeration of pop culture references and horror Easter eggs which will allow fans to geek out but leave them feeling mostly empty. 

Following a public television producer and some of the eccentric on-air personalities as they battle against the undead taking over when a spell is unleashed on the station, it’s an action-packed segment, but one that viewers will soon forget. Ultimately, the story is little more than an excuse for fanservice.

There are a few cool sequences in the segment that fans will immediately pick up on as homages to the classics of the genre, but apart from that, it’s mostly generic action-horror. The inclusion of some funny tributes and one gratifying cameo are great, but this doesn’t serve as much more than passive entertainment.

If the first episode is any indication, the new season of Creepshow will be a treat for horror-loving viewers. Fans should be looking forward to more star-studded and wackily fun tales to come.

Creepshow streams on Shudder beginning April 1, with new episodes streaming subsequent Thursdays. One out of six episodes reviewed.

​Rating: 4/5

Review by Dan Skip Allen

Don't let the title deceive you, Every Breath You Take is not a film about Sting or The Police, but a psychological thriller. This film has an atmosphere of a great thriller and the title represents the feeling of the film.

In the film, Casey Affleck plays a psychologist who believes he has made a breakthrough with a patient until she commits suicide. This tragic event affects his family and his professional life. When the patient's brother (Sam Claflin) comes into the picture it could have irrevocably changed his relationship with his wife (Michelle Monaghan) and his daughter (India Eisley) for the worse.

The film is made from a screenplay by David Murray and directed by Vaughn Stein, a director who isn't that well known. He has been an assistant director for some bigger films. His directorial career includes Terminal starring Margot Robbie and Inheritance starring Lily Collins and Simon Pegg. Every Breath You Take is the best thing he's directed thus far in his career. 

Murray, Stein, and company lead the viewer down a path that is slow and methodical. When it picks up speed it doesn't stop. The tension that they build is palpable. They build the story and characters up very effectively. The various scenes that come in the second half of the film are those we dread because they are given credibility by what has come before in the film. They build the suspense perfectly. The twists and turns aren't seen coming at any distance.

With the moody storyline also comes a moody setting. The film is set in the cold climate of Portland which is a stand-in for Vancouver, British Columbia. This setting adds to the darker nature of the film. Cinematographer Michael Merriman uses the cold and dank surroundings to his advantage. This atmosphere is a beautiful setting for a film such as this. It's a rare talent for the cinematography to match the overall feel of the film. This does for sure.

Sam Claflin has been known as a heartthrob in his career. He has played love interests in a few films including the Hunger Games series and Me Before You. Casting him in Every Breath You Take is an act of pure genius from both himself and the filmmakers. He goes the distance to make his character charming and likable while also being conniving and vindictive at the same time. This is a brilliant turn for him in his career.

Every Breath You Take brings the viewer down a path slowly and mathematically. Once it gets to its destination it's very rewarding and satisfying. The cast is all superb, but the standout is Sam Claflin. He gives the performance of his career as this grieving brother with a dark side. He hides a lot of his character's secrets in his performance which is masterful. The script by Murray also allowed for such a great turn by Claflin and company. This is the best thriller of 2021 so far.

Every Breath You Take hits VOD on April 2.

Rating: 4/5

Review by Camden Ferrell

Êxtase is the feature directorial debut of Maora Passoni, co-writer of the Oscar-nominated documentary The Edge of Democracy. Featuring a unique style and format, Passoni’s newest film is a deeply personal depiction of anorexia and womanhood in an uncertain world.
 
This movie follows the story of Clara, a young girl on the cusp of womanhood and beyond who lives through political turmoil in 1990’s Brazil. In a world fraught with destruction and fear, Clara embarks on a path of self-destruction in the form of anorexia. This story is partly based on Passoni’s personal experience, so it’s a fitting story that she is in the best position to tell properly.
 
What’s noticeable from the start is how unique the film is stylistically. It has elements of a traditional narrative feature as well as elements of documentary filmmaking. She doesn’t treat these two genres differently; she elegantly interweaves different techniques to create different layers to her story. It reaches almost experimental levels at time, and it creates a more visceral experience for the viewer.
 
The actors aren’t given much to work with in this film due to its nature and blending of genres, but the entire cast is effective even if they aren’t memorable. The narration is quite somber but is often tinged with a mixture of nostalgia and serious reflection. However, it seems that most of the dialogue, which was written by Passoni, was intended to supplement the themes and imagery of the film rather than stand out.

That being said, the movie uses lots of graphic and beautiful imagery to tell its story. The cinematography doesn’t just capture the story but the essence of each scene, and it creates an atmosphere that is effective in conveying the film’s mood. Since the film deals with anorexia and political turmoil, some of this imagery is understandably graphic, but Passoni does this in a tasteful way that doesn’t feel exploitative.
 
The film also features music by acclaimed filmmaker David Lynch and Lykke Li. Lynch has proven throughout his career to be a master of sound and ambiance, and his work on this film is effective even if it isn’t his most accomplished and fleshed out. There are certain moments that are significantly elevated by his music.
 
The main flaw with the film is simultaneously how little time it has to explore its themes about power and suffering and also with how it seems to misallocate its short runtime. Some sections significantly dragged, and by the end, the film loses a lot of the initial momentum from the film’s great opening moments. Despite this, Passoni has created a unique experience that speaks to the times, especially in regard to the political anorexia the world faces as we all slowly become isolated from each other in these uncertain times.
 
Êxtase may not be a comprehensive exploration of its subjects, but it is an undeniably brave and personal film for Passoni, and it features some great imagery. It’s one of the most brutally honest films I’ve seen this year, but it can suffer at times from its inconsistent pace.
 
Êxtase is available on MoMA’s virtual cinema from March 28 to April 2.

Rating: 3.5/5

Review by Rafael Motamayor

If you ever wanted to see what a good Lovecraftian take on Silent Hill would be like, then look no further than Offseason, a movie that puts the A in atmosphere and the tentacles in eldritch horror.

Director Mickey Keating has made a career out of blending elements from better-known films and regurgitating them in new forms that feel familiar but offer updated entertainment. His latest, Offseason, has nods to everything from John Carpenter's The Fog, to Dead & Buried, and even a bit of Texas Chain Saw Massacre, but it all somehow works together.

The film follows Marie Aldrich (Jocelin Donahue) receiving a letter saying her mother's grave has been desecrated and she needs to go to the island where her mother grew up and is buried in. The problem is that the island is just about to close "only until spring" (according to the locals). Of course, the moment she and her partner George (Joe Swanberg) head there, everything goes south, fog covers the entire island, and the locals become suspiciously hostile while teasing the arrival of an evil presence that once made a deal with the island's original settlers and is now coming to collect.

Despite a low budget, which becomes a detriment at times, Offseason manages to maintain a sense of dread for its entire runtime — though it certainly helps that the film is barely over eighty minutes. Keating wastes no time turning the locals' strange behavior up to eleven, making sure the audience is on the verge of yelling at the screen so the characters get the hell out, already. There is an almost dreamlike-feel to the way the film delivers information, with the film slowing down and exposition dialogues delivered slowly in drawn-out scenes, right before it snaps back into place and brings back a sense of urgency by reminding the audience of the ticking clock that is the raising bridge about to leave the island closed off from the outside world.

Donahue already impressed audiences with her role in The House of the Devil and she delivers one hell of a performance, exploring her character's fear and her slow descent into madness the longer she stays on the island. The camera stays glued on her at all times, bringing the audience in on her desperation and also her resolve, making for a slow yet riveting film. There are no jump scares, but Donahue's performance sells you on the idea that, at any time, something truly horrific is going to come on-screen, to the point where any actual jump scare would take away from the film's excellent and eerie atmosphere.

In a short runtime, Offseason builds an expansive mythology involving ancient deals, ritualistic curses, and a Lovecraftian god or two. Keating knows how to borrow from classic films to pay homage to them while building something new. Though he's limited by budgetary constraints, you come out of Offseason wishing he could take the ideas of this film into a bigger project, because he's displayed enough talent over the past decade to prove himself as an exciting new voice in horror. Plus, he's just made one of the best Lovecraftian movies in years, as well as one hell of a Silent Hill remake, which can only make me excited about what he does next.

Offseason screened as a part of the online edition of the 2021 SXSW Film Festival, which ran March 16-20.

Rating: 3.5/5

Reviewed by Adam Donato