Famed Japanese artist Takashi Murakami’s film debut, Jellyfish Eyes, on one hand seems like a perfectly suited entry in Criterion’s now vast catalogue of important pieces of cinema from around the world.
The film is an astutely allegorical criticism of the Japanese government and their mishandling of the terrifying tsunami and subsequent meltdown of the Fukushima nuclear plant that rocked the country in 2011. It does so in the guise of a fluffy family movie about technology-obsessed kids battling monsters called F.R.I.E.N.D.S. that happen to also generate clean energy through the pain and hatred of children. Okay, so maybe the government isn’t the only thing it’s criticizing.
Michael Dougherty hit a holiday-themed horror sweet spot with his 2007 anthology Trick ‘r Treat, finding the right balance of wit and chills. With Krampus, the director/co-writer flips the calendar from Halloween to Christmas and attempts to breathe Amblin-esque life into the dark figure from Germanic folklore. There’s so much cinematic potential with the character, described as Saint Nicholas’ dark shadow sent to punish the bad children, but it’s not quite realized here. Basic concepts are spread thin at feature length and there’s a failure to fully capture either the fearsome or farcical aspects of the myth.
Yet another indie Christmas-themed film thickly coated in an overall sense of bah humbug. Even the film’s title suggests a feeling of irritation towards the recent influx of holiday melancholy over the years. However, first-time writer/director Charles Poekel’s Christmas, Again reverses the trend with an uplifting tale of one man’s emotional turnaround at the hands of some old-fashioned Christmas spirit.
Mike Testin’s feature debut, Dementia, attempts to bring a new spin on the paranoid thriller genre by incorporating the titular illness into the narrative, an inherently horrifying real-life disease that makes us confused and question the motives of those around us – perfect fodder for such a film.
Interestingly, Testin also injects elder abuse into the movie, another hot-button topic that’s a widespread issue yet rarely discussed. While an exploration of these two issues begins intriguingly enough, Dementia falters in its final act and doesn’t quite stick the landing.
While its trailer didn’t “wow” me, the newly released thriller Submerged had two other aspects that drew my attention and made me deem it worth a look.
First, the director – Steven C. Miller, who previously helmed the awesome action thriller The Aggression Scale – and second, the promise of a containment thriller, a subgenre that I always find myself gravitating toward for some reason. While not a complete letdown, the film makes for perfect VOD fodder; it’s entertaining enough but lacks any real tension, proving itself to be absent of any lasting power.
I didn’t look at Tara Subkoff’s directorial debut, #Horror, as the damning condemnation of toxic social media obsession that it was clearly aiming to be and instead viewed it as a cautionary tale to all parents to not raise their kids like assholes.
Sure, the film tries to wag its finger at today’s youth who are supposedly too disconnected from reality to truly respect the lives of others, but this is something we’ve seen several times before with films like The Bling Ring, and although I didn’t like that movie either, at least it didn’t have incessant “submit” button animation cutaways appearing every five minutes, slapping you in the face.
The latest and last installment of the Hunger Games saga, which is based on the bestselling books of the same name, brings to an end the story of Katniss and Peeta and their Panem rebellion. The Hunger Games: Mockingjay – Part 2 picks up not long after the last film ends with the districts’ rebels gaining momentum and Katniss continuing to serve as the face of the movement.
Over the past half-decade the R-rated comedy has mostly languished in a post-Hangover hangover, having a difficult time finding the balance between being crass and convivial. Pre and post the 2009 dirty-minded line of demarcation, the producing team of Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg (Pineapple Express, Superbad, This is the End, Neighbors) has remained consistent with their brand of approachable insolence. The Night Before is another success, examining the state of suspended adolescence in the face of impending adulthood with honesty and observant chutzpah.
The narrative of Hit 2 Pass, a mostly free form documentary, concerns a father and son who have decided to build a car to race in the latest rendition racing event, which the last competed in during the days of the son’s youth. As they build a car from spare parts for the race, the audience is shown the process, the event, and the people who gather for it. As its scope slowly widens, Hit 2 Pass becomes not only the story of two people reconnecting, but a tale of the memories and experiences of a collective community.
As some of you may know, I have a particular soft spot when it comes to films involving characters trapped in tense or perilous situations. Even if the movie itself isn’t that great, there’s just something fun about watching a bunch of twenty-somethings react to being trapped on a ski lift (Frozen), or in a sauna (247°F), or at an automated teller machine (ATM). Well, maybe not that last one, but you get the idea; these types of thrillers are my jam.
When you mention cinematic works adapted from William Shakespeare to modern movie audiences, two things may come to mind: the name Kenneth Branagh and Baz Luhrmann’s adaptation of Romeo and Juliet.
For more than 25 years, Branagh has directed some of the most revered Shakespeare adaptations, including Hamlet, Henry V and Much Ado About Nothing. Luhrmann’s film was likely the most audience-accessible film, at least until the 1999 release 10 Things I Hate About You. Other notable directors, such as Roman Polanski, Akira Kurosawa and Orson Welles, have shared their striking visions of the bard’s work, Macbeth in particular.
Shortly after a struggling writer and his wife arrive in a picturesque French seaside resort he observes, “Anyone could find a story here.” Though By the Sea pretends he does in the end, he does not. Neither does writer/director/star Angelina Jolie Pitt. Her shiny vanity project wallows in contrivance and mistakes its dullness for profundity. At least the scenery is pretty.
Amid breeze-blown curtains wafting in open windows; amid the stovetop flames responsible for boiling and brewing, there is something transpiring in the constricted confines of an apartment kitchen, a narrow off-shoot barely retaining its sole possession - a dining table. Filmmaker Gina Telaroli, along with a group of friends and acquaintances, has transformed this small, familiar space into something different, its identity has been altered as the overall appearance remains recognizable with the usual occupational parameters of the room left intact as normal activity is replaced with staged imitations.
The narrative, co-written with Kate Johnston, found at the center of Empire Builder happens to deal with one uncomplicated action, an elementary development seen as inevitable based on the build and structure of the storyline. Throughout the entirety of the beginning portions of the film, there doesn’t appear to be much of an effort placed on shrouding what could happen in mystery and/or ambiguity. Swanberg and Johnston’s interests lie in the field of the emotional, taking the time to display the emotional states of each character in an unembellished fashion relying on nothing but the body languages amid solitude and socialization, oscillating between fleeting moments of reflection and intimate interactions of playfulness and consideration.
It might have taken some time, but the Criterion Collection has now come to include to Michael Haneke into its pantheon of thoughtfully-restored films committed to blu-ray for perpetuity. It’s seems fitting that the film chosen for initiation into the Criterion treatment would also be his first French film, Code Unknown (2000); which, also marks the first time the German director would work with a bona-fide, world-renowned star such as Juliette Binoche, positioning the Criterion Collection into a kill two birds with one stone situation by generating excitement for Haneke fans while, simultaneously, inching one film closer to making the collection a Binoche completist.
2012’s Skyfall was a high point in Daniel Craig’s run as superspy James Bond. Not only was it a satisfying Bond blockbuster, it felt like a payoff, with the more introspective, feral take on the classic character gaining perspective and closure on his past. He seemed ready to move on to more impossible missions with a smaller chip on his shoulder and a larger spring in his step. For its first half, Spectre looks as though it may fulfill that promise, until some clunky plotting gets in the way and 007, and the audience, are forced back into the muck with a focus on more unnecessary revelations that derail the fun to a degree.
6.5
