Review by Sean Boelman
Robert Kenner’s Food, Inc. is one of the most influential documentaries of the century, having earned an Oscar nomination and inspired widespread change in the food industry. Unfortunately, its sequel, Food, Inc. 2, is likely to be as revolutionary — as it ends up feeling well-meaning but too tepid for its own good.
In this documentary, the filmmakers join authors Michael Pollan and Eric Schlosser in an exploration of the vulnerabilities of the modern food industry, pointing out that we are on a path to destruction if something does not change. It’s clear that this, like its predecessor, is meant to be a call to action, but viewers will be left wondering what action they should take. While Food, Inc. took an almost gonzo approach to the food industry, throwing the audience headfirst into the horrors of factory farming, this follow-up is much more interested in the man behind the curtain. The movie explores some of the corporate and societal tactics that are used to essentially “addict” Americans to factory-produced processed foods. To communicate this message, the filmmakers interview a wide variety of experts, from farmers to nutritionists and even politicians like Senator Cory Booker. However, herein lies one of the film’s biggest issues. In painting with such broad strokes, Food, Inc. 2 fails to convey the sense of urgency that its predecessor has.
Every time the movie feels like it is about to make an important political statement, it reroutes and detours into something else. The food industry is a very big topic with many issues that must be addressed, but a ninety-odd-minute documentary is simply not enough to explore every topic the filmmakers want to with the depth it demands.
While the first film was, for many, an eye-opening exposé of the dangers, injustices, and disgustingness of factory farming, those who keep up with the news will hardly be surprised by anything this sequel has to say. In many ways, it feels like the movie is lamenting the fact that this is what our world has become, offering little in the way of an actionable solution until the rushed final minutes. Of course, Kenner and his co-director Melissa Robledo (who steps up from producing duties on the first film) deliver their message with just as much gripping sensationalism as before. The fast-paced editing and abundance of infographics would make you think that the message being shared is some sort of groundbreaking research when it’s something we’ve known in the decade and a half since the first movie’s release. That’s not to say that Food, Inc. 2 doesn’t have merit — its message means well, and for those who are out of the loop, it might be effective as a call to action. However, Kenner and Robledo would have been much better off structuring this as a reminder of this pervasive issue instead of attempting to claim that they were pulling back the curtain on it. Food, Inc. 2 screens in theaters for one night only on April 9 prior to its VOD release on April 12. Rating: 3/5
0 Comments
Review by Joseph Fayed If you follow true crime, and specifically familicide, you have likely heard of Jennifer Pan. The Netflix documentary What Jennifer Did gives a summary of the brutal crime that took place and the investigation into it. Under the helm of director Jenny Popplewell, not even the horrific details alone can save this documentary from lacking any insight beyond the surface level to explain why someone like Jennifer would be driven to kill. In November 2010, Bich Ha Pan was murdered and her husband Huei Hann Pan was severely injured inside their home in Markham, Ontario, Canada. Their 24 year old daughter Jennifer was upstairs, tied up but unharmed and managed to make a frantic 911 call. As the only survivor who is able to recount what happened, Jennifer shares how three men broke in and attacked her family. But soon investigators begin to question Jennifer and her story falls through. Jennifer and three co-conspirators were later convicted of first-degree murder. This documentary follows the course of the investigation that began in the immediate aftermath of the murder. Instead of presenting Jennifer and her parents' lives and building up to the murder, this peels back certain key moments that, in hindsight, may have lead to the murder. This formatting is largely due to the heavy reliance on footage of Jennifer from police interrogation rooms. Law & Order, this is not. Not that there typically is a problem with telling a true story in chronological order, but so much of it consists of the detectives simply rehashing what Jennifer said. There's no fresh perspective given here from any of the main talking heads, which defeats the purpose of revisiting what was once a highly publicized case in the first place. One angle to the story to was massively overlooked was the allegation that the Pan's were "Tiger Parents" — a stereotype of strict parenting often associated with Asian households. Hinted at by a former friend of Jennifer's, who receives a real lack of screen time in comparison to the detectives, this was the most we learned about Jennifer's struggles with her parents. In the case being built against Jennifer, a lot of the information we learned was sidelined in favor of Jennifer's eventual confession. Three other people were convicted of the same crime, but the documentary did not treat their involvement as the same. Overall, a lot that happened outside of Jennifer's three separate interrogations by police was ignored to talk about said interrogations as if it doesn't already exist online.
B-roll footage in documentaries annoys me to no end, but this one goes overboard with it. Whether it's driving their squad car in slow motion or solemnly staring off into space, it's such a bizarre direction, and I don't understand why some directors insist on doing that. Netflix has been riding the true crime wave for a decade, but lately they've been lacking the bite they were once known for having. What Jennifer Did belongs in the hands of an actual journalist. Or at least someone who can convince witnesses, close friends/family, and legal experts on both sides to come forward and ask them questions they have yet to address. A title card at the very end reveals the four convicted will be granted a new trial in the murder of Bich Ha Pan. Of course, this documentary completely ignores that potentially life altering update, and it's a head scratching ending to say the least. As this story is ongoing, I hope whoever examines this case next gives it a more comprehensive effort. Dateline and Keith Morrison, don't let us down. What Jennifer Did streams on Netflix beginning April 10. Rating: 1/5 [Overlook 2024] HOOD WITCH -- Overambitious Debut Has Riveting Moments but Is Mostly Uneven4/6/2024
Review by Sean Boelman
France has become a veritable breeding ground for filmmakers commenting on themes of race and class. Produced by Ladj Ly (2019’s Les Misérables), Saïd Belktibia’s thriller Hood Witch — which debuted at Sitges last year and recently played at SXSW — has a lot going for it. Still, it’s a bit too sloppy and unfocused to be fully effective.
The film follows a single mother who makes a living smuggling exotic animals and developing an app as she finds herself the victim of a violent online witch hunt, jeopardizing the safety of her and her son. It’s an interesting premise with lots of potential, but like so many feature debuts, it’s a victim of overambition. The middle third of the movie thrives, as this is where it is most intense and hectic. This section essentially turns into a survival thriller, forcing the protagonist to survive a series of increasingly violent and disturbing encounters. The first act of setup and the final act, which feels a lot tamer, aren’t as riveting. One of the most frustrating things about Hood Witch is how generic its character development is. Although the script easily connects the audience with the protagonist, as it’s easy to root for a mother trying to protect their child, the motivations of all the characters — whether protagonists or antagonists — feel somewhat generic. Part of the issue with the character development could be that the film bites off more than it can chew thematically. The central concept of the movie explores how social media culture has created what is essentially a modern-day witch hunt. While this is intriguing, it is diluted by some of the cultural themes involving religion. The film really struggles to find the balance between universal and specific. Yet even though the character she plays isn’t particularly interesting, Golshifteh Farahani’s performance is gripping and commanding. There are several ways a performer could have approached this role, and Farahani emphasizes fear, which makes some of the political themes feel more timely than they may have otherwise. If nothing else, Belktibia has an incredibly distinctive voice as a director that will be exciting to see developed in the future. When the movie leans into its darkness and suspense, Belktibia creates some genuinely unsettling scenes. He also incorporates phone footage in a way that’s intriguing without feeling gimmicky and adds some more stylistic flourishes to the film that give it a unique personality. Hood Witch is the type of feature debut that is more interesting as a calling card for its filmmaker’s style than in its own right. Although there are a lot of really interesting ideas on display in the narrative, Saïd Belktibia is yet another novice director to bite off more than he can chew when it comes to his first feature. Hood Witch is screening at the 2024 Overlook Film Festival, which runs April 4-7 in New Orleans, LA. Rating: 2.5/5
Review by Sean Boelman
After debuting at last year’s Venice Film Festival, Sébastien Vanicek’s Infested is continuing its festival tour before its Shudder release. Although this might be an unsettling watch if you suffer from arachnophobia, for most audiences, it’s likely to inspire little in the way of thrills or even entertainment.
The film follows the residents of a rundown apartment building in France as they attempt to fight for their lives against a rapidly reproducing army of spiders. What follows is a run-of-the-mill creature feature, mixing jump scares and body horror. Although a few moments are quite effective, there is little about this that you haven’t seen before. One of the most frustrating things about Infested is how overt its political allegory is. Although the horror genre is no stranger to direct symbolism, Vanicek and Florent Bernard’s thinly veiled commentary on gentrification is particularly dull because it feels almost flippant toward these themes, which are quite necessary discussions. This shallow social critique could almost be forgiven were it not for the fact that the characters are so underdeveloped and archetypal. Although we’re clearly rooting for the underdogs — the residents of a lower-class community fighting for survival — the personalities they’re given are about as generic as they come. As a result, it’s easy to move on as they get picked off one by one.
There’s also the issue of the movie’s pacing, which is far too slow. The runtime is around an hour and 45 minutes, and this is the type of story that could have been told in a brisk 90 minutes or less. It takes too long for us to get into the arachnophobia-inducing action, and when it gets there, it’s frustratingly one note.
Ultimately, this is the issue with spider-based horror movies. There are only so many ways you can make a spider look scary. The options are to have a spider go somewhere it shouldn’t be, have a bunch of spiders swarming, or have a really big spider. After a while, Vanicek runs out of ideas of things to do, and the film runs out of steam as a result. It’s a shame because there are a few truly inspired sequences here. One sequence, set in a hallway filled with spiders and webs, is shot in an incredibly claustrophobic way that gives the movie a much-needed burst of energy for around 15 minutes. And for a smaller produciton, the visual effects are mostly very strong. Although Infested is a pretty generic film, it does show that director Sébastien Vanicek has a lot of promise behind the camera. And given that he’s been hired to helm the next entry in the Evil Dead franchise, we’ll certainly be seeing more of him yet. Let’s just hope that the script he writes or gets for that is less bland. Infested is screening at the 2024 Overlook Film Festival, which runs April 4-7 in New Orleans, LA. Rating: 2/5 [Overlook 2024] ALL YOU NEED IS DEATH -- Beguiling Irish Folk Horror Frustrates Narratively4/5/2024
Review by Sean Boelman
For better or worse, Paul Duane’s All You Need Is Death is an incredibly strange and esoteric film. Although it will win over some fans, and it’s hard to deny the movie’s atmospheric strengths, this folk horror suffers from an aimless narrative and many inconsistencies undermining any of Duane's stylistic flourishes.
The film follows a couple who specialize in collecting rare folk ballads as they unintentionally release an ancient evil after discovering a long-forgotten, ancient taboo song. It’s a unique premise, but it’s not fully fleshed out and Duane’s script lacks the narrative drive to keep the viewer invested after this initial hook. Those familiar with this style of horror will not be surprised to find that the pacing is incredibly slow. The first two-thirds of the movie is spent building an eerie atmosphere, only for the final act to go off the rails. Unfortunately, the film doesn’t earn this unhinged finale, nor does it feel particularly satisfying. However, All You Need Is Death stands out from a lot of other movies in the folk horror genre because of how incredibly culturally specific it is, which ends up being a bit of a double-edged sword. While it does mean that the film does not fall back on the generic symbolism of the genre, it also causes some of the symbolism to not resonate as well with audiences who are not well-read on this culture.
The most intriguing thing about All You Need Is Death is how it uses its Irish folk music motifs. It should come as no surprise that Duane is so interested in the musicality of the movie, considering that much of his background is in music videos and music documentaries. Nonetheless, it’s impressive how Duane strikes the balance between beguiling and unsettling when it comes to the atmosphere. It uses these songs in a way that’s uncanny but not disrespectful to the culture they represent.
One can only wish that Duane exerted the same level of control and mastery over the rest of his style. Of course, some of the film’s problems, like its occasionally cheesy-looking effects or lackluster sound mixing, can be forgiven due to its independent nature and low budget. Others, like questionable framing, are more deliberate aesthetic choices that simply don’t work. The performances are also wildly inconsistent. Although some in the supporting cast turn in performances like they are acting in a campy B-movie, the leads take themselves too seriously. It doesn’t help that the characters they play are so peculiar that it’s hard to buy into anything they do. All You Need Is Death deserves praise for going to some of the weirder lengths it traverses and its incredible use of folk music, but this does not amount to a compelling watch as a whole. Still, it’s an auspicious narrative feature debut that suggests a bright future for Duane if he is able to work within the confines of a more traditional script. All You Need Is Death is screening at the 2024 Overlook Film Festival, which runs April 4-7 in New Orleans, LA. Rating: 2.5/5 Review by Cole Groth Brittany Snow’s led a great, varied career as an actress, and as the latest actor-turned-director, she’s proved to be amazingly capable of directing. In Parachute, her debut feature, she carefully and confidently navigates the struggle of having an eating disorder. With a compelling script and good technical style, Snow masterfully weaves a dramatic story with the help of perfect performances from its stars. Parachute navigates the hard-to-talk-about world of eating disorders. Snow’s script, penned alongside Becca Gleason, tells the story of Riley (Courtney Eaton), a woman recently discharged from rehab for her struggles with an eating disorder. Once out, she meets Ethan (Thomas Mann), a charming young man with whom she instantly finds a connection. Throughout the film, the two grow together on a romantic journey of self-discovery for Riley. It’s incredibly important that films about eating disorders handle them with grace and carefulness, which Snow is fully able to do. Snow and Gleason’s script is an amazing drama because it never feels overbearing, even when the circumstances of the story are overbearing for the characters. It’s dramatic without being overly so, incredibly romantic and charming. Snow struggled with an eating disorder in the past and uses her past experiences to subtly fill in the horrors of going through one. It’s painful to watch but important. Beyond the tender way Parachute’s script handles addiction and eating disorders, it also excels with its dialogue. It’s little things like Riley referring to her eating disorder as an “eating thing” that sound like they were written from the perspective of somebody who understands what having an eating disorder is like. It’s authentic and never once degrading. Each conversation between Riley and Ethan sounds natural and up-to-date, with modern lingo that does not sound like it’s trying too hard to be relatable. It’s a romantic, funny, and dramatic script that perfectly handles each subgenre.
With a terrific story and great dialogue, the last thing this film needed to succeed was a good pair of actors with chemistry. Courtney Eaton and Thomas Mann are that pair. The two feel like a real couple, burdened with the trauma of their pasts and moving together like two perfectly intertwined souls. They’re joined by a terrific supporting cast of Gina Rodriguez, Kid Cudi, Francesa Reale, Dave Bautista, and Joel McHale. In a cast where the two leads are already such knockouts, it’s nice to see the supporting cast pull their weight just as well. Dramas about sensitive subjects like eating disorders can often struggle with feeling too intense or boring, something that Brittany Snow can handle very well in Parachute. Her first directorial effort is a compelling watch on all fronts, showcasing the best of everybody involved. It’s clear that Snow has a bright future in writing and directing and that Courtney Eaton is an up-and-coming star. By all accounts, this is worthy of a watch. Parachute is now in theater. Rating: 4/5 Review by Joseph Fayed One of the biggest news stories of 2019 was the arrest of Jeffrey Epstein for sex trafficking minors. Once his downfall became public, scrutiny grew onto his ultra-wealthy and/or famous associates who had spent a great deal of time with Epstein. One such friend was Prince Andrew. Scoop follows a team of producers who tried to get ahead of the developing story and land an exclusive interview with the Duke of York, who is unsure of how to rehabilitate his image. This biopic has many gotcha moments but gets too stuck in its format to make this dramatic retelling any more captivating. The film follows the crew of the BBC news program Newsnight, who, amidst the ongoing scandal with Jeffrey Epstein, decide to shift their focus onto Prince Andrew's ties to Epstein. Previously, their affiliation with each other had been nothing more than tabloid filler. However, upon accuser Virginia Roberts coming forward to share her story, news producer Sam McAlister (Billie Piper) and anchor Emily Maitlis (Gillian Anderson) race to be the first to get the Prince's thoughts on the allegations. In the meantime, those working for the Prince question if speaking out is really the right move for him. The characterization of Sam McAlister feels a tad bit like she is trying to Girlboss up the ranks of British television. She makes it her top priority to secure this interview, and we see her in action pursuing that, but it is very tame. Sam isn't written to be so ruthless that it's comical, like this archetype typically is. Instead, she's too reserved to have much focus on her. In what's arguably the greatest highlight of her career, she is reduced to essentially saying, "This is your reputation now, Andrew; let us know if you want to chat by Monday." It's not the mic drop moment it was intended to be, and once the interview actually takes place towards the end of the film, Sam is not much else besides background noise despite her crucial role in making it all possible. Gillian Anderson's ability to not make herself appear complacent regarding her big Prince Andrew interview is a warm welcome. For a film about a team of people working in the media, the journalist asking the tough questions is the only one less interested in the sensational elements of the story. There is a particular line of dialogue about another associate of Epstein that Emily says that I would have liked to see be explored further. Emily's reputation as a soft but hard interviewer is touched upon when she speaks to Prince Andrew and his staff beforehand. Still, in a story about abuse, it should be explained why she was perceived that way by someone who has such a high profile.
The sheer details about the accusations against Epstein don't receive too much focus here, which I could understand because it is not a story about his victims ultimately. While these allegations were not breaking news at the time of the Newsnight interview, a closer examination of how the Royal Palace would have reacted would have helped expand the story. You can't convince me that the only person around Prince Andrew regularly who is worried for him is his secretary. Not showing more of the palace in full-on crisis mode leading up to the interview was an inaccurate look at how an institution handles itself. Even seeing direct communications from Queen Elizabeth — an unseen character in this — would have better reflected the reality of the PR nightmare Prince Andrew landed himself in than what we were shown. In Scoop, we hear from the man at the center of a sensationalized story whose behavior during an interview became worldwide news. The reenactment of that interview is done very well, but those storylines behind the scenes of Newsnight and the Royal Palace go nowhere. What we are left with is that this highly anticipated expose came together like a fluff piece in a matter of days. The BBC and the Royal Palace get too much of a pass here, and it's disappointing because this was a groundbreaking moment for investigative journalism and the monarchy that was heavily underutilized. Scoop streams on Netflix beginning April 5. Rating: 2.5/5
Review by Sean Boelman
French filmmaker Quentin Dupieux has reached a point in his career where he’s able to crank out multiple films a year, surprisingly without suffering from diminishing returns. The first of his two 2023 pictures to make its debut stateside, Yannick, is a brief but potent satire that sees him straying away from his recent maximalist tendencies without losing sight of what makes his voice so distinctive.
The movie follows a jaded construction worker who decides to see a play on a rare night off. However, when the performance is not to his standards, he decides to take matters into his own hands and demand a more entertaining evening. Shot quickly and quietly, Dupieux’s latest is the type of film that doesn’t feel subversive until you start peeling back its layers. As is the case with most of Dupieux’s output, Yannick is delightfully brief, clocking in at a mere 67 minutes in total. However, Yannick is minimalist in even more ways than that. The entire movie is set in the confines of a single location — a small theatre — and has a much more grounded plot than his usual repertoire. The absurdity comes not from whimsy and fantasy but from the frankness with which Dupieux approaches this topic. It will come as no surprise that Yannick is Dupieux’s most meta film since Reality and perhaps even exceeds it in terms of self-referential commentary. Dupieux is clearly reflecting on the criticisms that have been levied against him in the past, with the end message being that, above all else, he just wants to give people a good time. He succeeds in that goal with flying colors.
Although this lacks the laugh-out-loud humor of Dupieux’s past work, its incredibly sharp observations are often quite funny. It’s definitely a lot more esoteric than most of the French filmmaker’s comedy, but those who have been following Dupieux’s work for a while, or are at least attuned to the idiosyncrasies of French comedy, will be able to get on the movie’s sardonic wavelength.
Part of what makes Yannick work so much better than other satires exploring the relationship between artist and audience is that Dupieux does not feel like he is asking for pity or even sympathy. He doesn’t villainize the stand-in for critics — in fact, he’s the most sympathetic character of the bunch. But as an artist, he also shines a light on the artists’ perspective and the effort and passion they put into their craft, even if it doesn’t turn out as expected. Raphaël Quenard is hilarious and unexpectedly charming as the eponymous interruptor. For a character who spends most of the runtime shouting and complaining, Quenard manages to not come across as whiny. The rest of the ensemble is also good, mostly functioning to bounce off Quenard. Yannick puts up a low-key guise, but if you really engage with the film on its own level, it’s one of Dupieux’s most nuanced works. Although its focus on meta-commentary makes this a mostly fans-only affair, those accustomed to the absurdist filmmaker’s ways have another delight on their hands. Yannick streams on Mubi beginning April 5. Rating: 4/5
Review by Sean Boelman
British filmmaker Ken Loach is perhaps one of the most well-known social realism filmmakers of today and all time, commenting on real issues with hard-hitting stories. Thus, it comes as a bit of a surprise that The Old Oak, Loach’s last film before he is set to retire, feels so quaint. Although it deals with some weighty themes, this drama fails to leave much of a lasting impression.
The Old Oak tells the story of the owner and patrons of a bar in a small village in England as the arrival of a group of Syrian refugees rocks their tight-knit community. This is hardly the most precarious topic Loach has bitten off in the past, but Paul Laverty’s script fails to truly differentiate its commentary from that of the many films discussing the refugee crisis in the past. One of The Old Oak's most significant flaws is its need to tell this story from the white perspective. Although Laverty clearly means well with his message, encouraging people to treat one another with empathy, it verges on pandering. At a certain point, one also has to wonder who this movie is serving. Those who need to hear the message most aren’t going to seek a movie like this out anyway, and the audience it will attract may feel condescended to. The film also struggles to reconcile Loach’s signature intimacy with the broader strokes he is painting with here. The way the story is structured, it feels like there is about to be an explosive climax, and there isn’t. In typical Loach style, The Old Oak eschews flashy melodrama in favor of a more low-key, realistic exploration of the mundanity of hate. Loach is clearly more interested in exploring the microaggressions of racist society than he is in the more outwardly dangerous expressions of hate.
This conversation is certainly an interesting one and offers a somewhat fresh perspective on a topic that many filmmakers have commented on in the past, but coming from one of the world’s greatest social filmmakers, it all feels a bit too soft. Although the movie’s suggestion of “get with the times or get out of the way” is certainly admirable, it’s not nearly condemning enough of the bigotry we see on screen.
And while the characters they play are sometimes frustratingly archetypal, the cast does a respectable job. Dave Turner, whose only past acting experience was minor roles in Loach’s last two films, brings a lovable charm to his role, and Ebla Mari — a complete newcomer — exudes an astounding amount of confidence. However, what is missing from these characters is a believable interplay. Laverty is seemingly trying to set up an “odd couple” dynamic between the duo, an unlikely alliance that forms between them because they see the innate goodness within one another. Yet — and it’s hard to tell if the responsibility lies on the writer or the performers — it never feels like these two people would be friends in real life. This spoils the feeling of realism that Loach painstakingly tries to create. The Old Oak is hardly a bad movie, but seeing one of the world’s greatest filmmakers go out on a note that’s so familiar, comfortable, and safe is disappointing. Perhaps the most damning thing that can be said about Ken Loach’s swan song is that it’s pretty forgettable, which should absolutely not be the case. The Old Oak opens in theaters on April 5. Rating: 3.5/5 Review by Daniel Lima If the powers that be refuse to allow intellectual property to die, if the media franchises of days past must be cyclically brought back and obviate any breathing room for anything new, at the very least, they should be allowed to provide a platform for fresh voices to be heard. Fortunately, that is the case with The First Omen, the debut feature of Arkasha Stevenson. While it cannot escape the gravitational pull of the studio-enforced expectation to mimic the familiar, there is an energy, audacity, and artistry that shows a filmmaker fighting to leave a personal stamp and make something exciting. Set some years before the events of the 1978 original, the film follows a young novitiate, played by Nell Tiger Free, who has recently arrived in Rome. Having spent her entire life in the Church, even growing up in a Catholic orphanage, the bright-eyed young woman prepares to take her vows and serve in an orphanage herself. She quickly finds, however, that things are amiss and that a conspiracy may seek to bring unfathomable evil into the world. The original film series is, quite infamously, about the birth and life of the Antichrist. This film is a prequel, as the many visual and textual allusions make clear. Yet the script is structured as a mystery, with Free's innocent nun growing more frayed and manic as she circles closer to the truth. Considering none of the other movies — even the first — make any real attempt to subvert or misdirect the viewer, it is strange that what any reasonable person would assume was the basic premise of a prequel is positioned as a twist. Whatever The First Omen does right, it does without any sense of intrigue. And there is plenty that it does get right. The opening scene perfectly evokes the sense of dread and constant threat of infernal violence that runs through the first movie, even embracing the visual language of Donner's work: methodical long takes, slow zooms from far-off distances, heightening the sense of powerlessness of the characters in the current of biblical forces. The rest of the film follows suit, employing visual and dynamic lighting to nail the feel of a film out of time, to the point that I am convinced that parts of this were actually shot on celluloid. If not, it's an exquisite facsimile, almost certainly a testament to Stevenson's past as a photojournalist.
It's a rote story, particularly in the expository scenes, yet it never feels like a chore. This is due in large part to the ensemble — an impressive array of established character actors give life to roles that don't have much to them as written. From Sônia Braga's effortless aura of authority to Ralph Ineson's nervous paranoia (an intoxicating presence coupled with his booming voice), each character feels wholly self-possessed, with an entire history behind them. In particular, Nell Tiger Free turns in one of the best performances of the year so far, utterly committed physically and emotionally to the turmoil and anguish of a young woman struggling against infernal machinations. Most laudable is Stevenson's command of the craft within the horror set pieces. It is clear that she has a fondness for the genre, particularly with grisly body horror. There are a number of shameless visual references to landmark films — most notably Possession — that would come across as lazy were they not so seamlessly incorporated into the narrative and so expertly realized. There is such care in how sound reverberates through each space, the rhythm of each space, how much the audience sees and how much they do not, that these go beyond simple homage. This is an announcement of a new talent capable of delivering genuinely disturbing and disgusting imagery, the likes of which are sure to delight anyone with a genuine appreciation of the art. As invigorating as those scenes are and as accomplished as the film is as a whole, it is unfortunate that The First Omen ends on a reminder of the limitations of a project like this. At the end of the day, this is an attempt to keep corporate property alive within the popular consciousness, and so there is a natural ceiling to how far filmmakers are allowed to push things. Stevenson does her best to work within those confines, pushing things to the very brink of what would be allowed under such conservative boundaries, but ultimately cannot go any further. It's a sour note to bow out to, but hopefully, this is merely the first entry in a prolific career. The First Omen arrives in theaters April 4. Rating: 3.5/5 |
Archives
April 2024
Authors
All
|