Showing posts with label Focus Features. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Focus Features. Show all posts

Wednesday, 26 July 2017

ATOMIC BLONDE - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Special screening at Fantasia 2017 of this lifeless, empty, boring espionage action thriller, not so special.

Charlize kicks ass, but the movie does not.

Atomic Blonde (2017)
Dir. David Leitch
Scr. Kurt Johnstad
Nvl. Antony Johnston, Sam Hart
Starring: Charlize Theron, James McAvoy,
John Goodman, Eddie Marsan, Sofia Boutella, Toby Jones

Review By Greg Klymkiw

When a movie featuring Charlize Theron kicking ass and engaging in explicit lesbian action (with nudity, no less) during the waning days of the Cold War in Berlin turns out to be a big fat boring mess, the disappointment is enough to hurt. Adding insult to my injury is that I had the distinctly extraordinary experiences of being in East Berlin before the wall came down (in 1988) and actually being in Berlin when the damn wall did finally come down (in 1989). My sufferance through the overall period/atmosphere inadequacies of Atomic Blonde (no matter how many "period" tunes have been annoyingly stuffed onto the film's soundtrack) is all the greater.

Though screenwriter Kurt Johnston (adapting the Antony Jonston/Sam Hart graphic novel) loads up on the tropes of espionage thrillers, he does so with the kind of ham-fisted inadequacy that makes the whole affair unnecessarily obtuse and worse, so that we finally don't care about any of the characters and/or proceedings. I was forced to almost constantly check the time, agog at how slow and dull it all was.

Director David Leitch (co-director of the much-better-written John Wick) at least knows how to stage all the action sequences (especially one delicious set piece that feels like it's all one long take) so that we're not annoyed by the usual herky-jerky on display in virtually every other contemporary action movie, but sadly, his efforts are all for nought since none of these ultra-violent extravaganzas have anything more going for them than the craft itself. We have no emotional stakes in anything or anyone and as such, we're bored to distraction when the film's onscreen participants are being shot and/or pulverized.

For those who care, the picture details the attempts of super-blonde British super-spy Lorraine Broughton (Charlize Theron) to extract an East German political prisoner (Eddie Marsan). A dirty double-dealer (the dullishly smarmy James McAvoy) gums up the works whilst a lesbian wannabe spy (Sofia Boutella) beds down our heroine and places herself at great risk. All of this nonsense is relayed in flashback as Lorraine is interrogated by her boss (Toby Jones) and a C.I.A. bureaucrat (John Goodman). None of this carries any weight or interest and is certainly bereft of the grand atmosphere inherent in works such as the classic John le Carré film adaptations like Martin Ritt's The Spy Who Came in From the Cold, Tomas Alfredson's Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy and the better James Bond efforts with Sean Connery.

Atomic Blonde is Dullsville - from beginning to end. And oh, does it end. It has one of those interminably predictable endings upon endings upon endings. Not caring about plot and character is one thing, but being boring is the picture's greatest sin.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: * One-Star

Atomic Blonde, a Focus Features release had a Special Screening at Fantasia 2017.

Sunday, 11 September 2016

NOCTURNAL ANIMALS - Review By Greg Klymkiw - TIFF 2016 - Arty Vehicle Runs On Empty

MICHAEL SHANNON: Great Actor in search
of a Great Movie (or even good one).

Nocturnal Animals (2016)
Dir. Tom Ford
Nvl. Austin Wright
Starring: Amy Adams, Jake Gyllenhaal, Michael Shannon, Aaron Taylor-Johnson,
Isla Fisher, Armie Hammer, Laura Linney, Andrea Riseborough, Karl Glusman

Review By Greg Klymkiw

There's a scene in Tom (A Single Man) Ford's mostly dreadful Nocturnal Animals when Texas cop Sam Andes (Michael Shannon) steps out of his car onto the dusty, lonely flatlands which harbour a grisly crime. As his foot hits the dry earth, he begins to hack so violently that each cough sounds like the burst of gunfire from a .44 Magnum. Every wheeze is a death rattle. We fear for him, as does his companion who inquires into his well being once the horrendously desiccated croup-eruption draws to a close. Andes takes a deep breath and nonchalantly replies, "Yeah, I'm okay." Shannon's delivery is so perfectly timed that we let out a healthy belly laugh.

He's ready for action. The grisly crime scene awaits.




That we care so much for this character's well being is certainly a testament to Michael Shannon (no matter what film he's in). It's impossible to take one's eyes off the guy. Even when he's stuck in a dog's breakfast of a movie, his mere presence is usually enough to keep us watching. The broad strokes of the character he plays, a soon-to-retire homicide dick dying of lung cancer, who takes the law into his own hands with a pair of rapist-killers, certainly provides enough material for Shannon to deliver an astonishing performance.

Alas, he is ultimately a great actor in search of a good movie.

The very ubiquitous and extremely dour Amy Adams.

Nocturnal Animals is based on a novel by Austin Wright called "Tony and Susan". Though I have not read the novel, I'm going to go out on a limb here and suggest that Nocturnal Animals is a better title - at least for the movie. The title, in addition to Michael Shannon, is the only good thing about Tom Ford's picture. It's probably one of the worst indie arthouse movies I've seen in quite some time. It suffers from an accent on preciously composed shots of people looking dour and a screenplay ("written" by Ford) that vomits up a whole whack of on-point dialogue and provides a clunky, almost literary structure (purporting to be cinematic).

In a nutshell, the movie forces us to meander amongst three different through-lines.




First of all, we get the story of a gallery owner (the ubiquitous Amy Adams) and her cheating husband (Armie Hammer), both of whom are facing potential financial ruin. As we suffer through all of this, we learn that wifey was once romantically involved with a penniless academic (Jake Gyllenhaal) who had dreams of being a great novelist.

The second through-line delivers flashbacks to this doomed romance and we learn that Ubiquitous Amy dumped the lad for financial stability, doubting her beau's ability to ever be a novelist. The third, and most problematic through-line is when Amy gets a manuscript of her former love's novel (which is about to be published) and the movie rubs our noses in fictionalized versions of both characters in a tale of rape, murder and revenge.

Now if any of this had been infused with a trashy, pulpy sense of fun, and/or even some Douglas Sirk-like melodrama (to match the movie's visuals), then perhaps it might have been palatable. Unfortunately, director Ford drags us through a dreary, humourless and pretentious mess that simply tries one's patience.

Jake Gyllenhaal looking dour: Regrets, he has a few.

Other than Shannon's character, there really isn't a single entity in this entire movie that feels remotely real, let alone worth spending any time with when the lights go down. Wifey Amy Adams is a total sourball from beginning to end and one can't really blame Hubby Hammer for grabbing a bit on the side.

It's also no wonder her gallery is suffering financially. The film opens with a series of arty-farty slo-mo shots of whorishly dolled-up BBWs, bumping and grinding with dour abandon (of course, they wouldn't be having any fun in a movie like this). Eventually they are turned into living still-lives on a variety of IKEA slabs for the edification of a whole whack o' rich knobs who are guzzling free booze and nibbling upon cheese in Amy's gallery.

Eventually I kept thinking - no wonder she's going broke. Does she have to pay all these porkers to prostrate themselves in her tony whorehouse of capital crimes against fine art - every fucking day?

This, at least, is a pretty good question. God knows we don't really have too many others whilst we suffer through horrendous dialogue like:

"What right do I have to not be happy? I have everything. I feel ungrateful not to be happy." This, followed by this dopey response: "You are just awfully hard on yourself."

"You and your mother both have the same kind of sadness in your eyes."

Or how about this scintillating exchange?

UBIQUITOUS AMY: "We are not right for each other."

DOUR JAKE: "We are perfect for each other."

UBIQUITOUS AMY: "No, we are not perfect for each other, though we might have been perfect for each other if we didn't live in the real world. But I live in the real world and I need a life that is more structured. I want to be the person that you want me to be, but I just can't."

Or, how's about this spitfire?

"I'm not scared, I'm unhappy. I'm just really really unhappy."

Adding to the mix of crappy dialogue, we're also forced to put up with a whole passel of portent during a litany of irony like:

When Ubiquitous Amy gets a paper cut whilst opening Dour Jake's manuscript.

When Dour Jake showers in the "novel" and Ubiquitous Amy showers in "real life".

When Ford delivers a shot of the raped/murdered mother and daughter of the "novel" lying together nude and pathetically juxtaposes it with a "real life" shot Amy's daughter lying nude with her lover.

It never seems to end.

The hits just keep coming.




Worst of all, though, are the final moments in which Ubiquitous Amy dolls up for a meeting with Dour Jake to talk about his novel and catch up on old times. She ends up wearing a hideous green dress which resembles the dress Scarlet O'Hara made out of the curtains of Tara in Gone With the Wind. Rhett Butler certainly saw through Scarlet's ruse. We wonder if Dour Jake will have a similar response. Alas, we never find out. Nocturnal Animals predictably ends with Ubiquitous Amy being stood up.

This all seems thoroughly appropriate. The whole movie deserves to be stood up.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: *½ One-and-a-half-stars
Nocturnal Animals is a TIFF 2016 Special Presentation and is a Focus Features and Universal Pictures Canada release.

Friday, 21 August 2015

SINISTER 2 - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Real Filmmaker secured to direct sequel to horror hit. The results? A terrific horror thriller that tops its predecessor.


Sinister 2 (2015)
Dir. Ciarán Foy
Scr. Scott Derrickson, C. Robert Cargill
Starring: Shannyn Sossamon, James Ransome, Robert Sloan, Dartanian Sloan,
Tate Ellington, John Beasley, Lea Coco, Nick King, Lucas Jade Zumann,
Jaden Klein, Laila Haley, Caden Marshall Fritz, Olivia Rainey

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Trinity and sprockets are before us.

The whirring and clicking of an old projector accompanies the jerky, garishly-coloured images from an old 8mm home movie. As always with layman-captured images from the past, there's something alternately beautiful and creepy about them. These, however, get mighty creepy, mighty fast. This is no ordinary family highlight reel.

Splayed before us is a skull-shaped crop circle in the middle of an Illinois cornfield. Its centrepiece is a disturbingly aberrant midwestern Golgotha with three people bound to crosses: a contemporary Jesus, Dysmas and Gesmas hung like scarecrows against the black of night, the eerie scene lit by the headlights of a half-ton, the victims' heads hooded and twitching in terror with shrieks, wails, cries and moans, all begging for mercy. The first crucified figure is doused in gasoline and set on fire as he screams, howling in agony as he burns to death.

These visions are thankfully ripped away from our purview as the frail Dylan Collins (Robert Sloan) bolts upright from under his covers. To those who've never seen 2012's Sinister, you've just witnessed a nightmare. To the rest of us, we know immediately that we've been slammed face-first into the horrific netherworld of the demented, serial-killing demon Bughuul (Nick King) and thanks to a drawer-filling shock cut, he even puts in a brief appearance in the lad's bed.

How's about them All Hallows Eve Apples?


Happily, Scott Derrickson (director-writer of Sinister 1) and co-scribe C. Robert Cargill skilfully use this and the next two sequences to set-up our characters and situation so the film efficiently and effectively introduces the Sinister-world, by doing double-duty for both the initiated and uninitiated to dive into the macabre universe of Sinister 2.

A gorgeous cut leads us to a pair of boots as they leave the front passenger door of a truck and firmly rest upon the sidewalk above the curb, the owner's hands meticulously and firmly retying the laces. The composition of the shot is imbued with malevolent qualities and we briefly think this might be a killer preparing to mosey on into a kill.

No such luck on that front, but more creepiness follows as we see that "boot-man" is none other than the unnamed friendly deputy (James Ransome) from Sinister. A regal middle-American church towers behind him. Once inside the Lord's House, he finds himself within a confession booth, facing a Priest (John Beasley) who catches on that the fella isn't Catholic, nor wanting to really make a formal spewing of his sins. The Priest immediately recognizes the man as the Deputy from the "Oswalt case" which, cleverly and simply allows the audiences to get some subtle expositional backstory as well as informing us that the events the Priest refers to are of a sensational nature that must surely have made national headlines.

What the Deputy needs is some manner of assistance in the area of dealing with something both evil and supernatural. "You want me to tell you to use a cross, some Holy Water and say, 'The Power of Christ compels you?' the cynical Priest offers. "Will it work?" asks our Deputy. "No!" affirms the Priest. The acting, timing and humour here make us realize this is no run-of-the-mill horror sequel. Following up seriously the Priest urges the Deputy to give up his pursuits, but he does indeed offer an excellent note:

"You don't stop evil, you can only protect yourself from it."


Another astonishing cut, wherein the sound begins slightly over the shot leading into the next one, features the clicking, squealing sounds of what appears to be the creaky old projector from the beginning, and in fact, it takes a few seconds to realize what we're actually seeing. It is the wheels of a shopping cart in a supermarket being pushed by Courtney Collins (Shannyn Sossamon), a babe-o-licious yummy mommy alternately shopping for groceries and trying to keep her eyes on a mysterious guy who seems to be following both herself and her two rambunctious boys Dylan (the young lad from the opening scene) and older brother Zach (Dartanian Sloan).

Courtney's instincts are right and she manages to get her kids out of harm's way by blasting out of the store, into their car and out of the parking lot, leaving the mysterious follower behind. Courtney has been on the run from her abusive, rich, powerful husband Clint (Lea Coco) who has been sending all the private dicks money can buy to track her down. He might have found the area of Illinois they're in, but luckily, she and the boys are holed up in a property her friend owns that's located deep off an old country road - a creaky ancient farmhouse attached to a long-abandoned chapel. Because Courtney specializes in restoring antiques, the joint is full of furniture she can work on while the kids have the time of their lives.

Unbeknownst to them, the trio is living on the unhallowed ground occupied by the chilling, supernatural Bughuul. His specialty is attacking families through one vulnerable child in the family unit. This is what befell the Oswalt family (headed up in the first film by Ethan Hawke) and it's on the verge of happening here. The Deputy (who is no longer with the cops) is obsessed with using a grid he's put together of where Bughuul will strike next and he shows up on the old homestead to burn it down (as has been his wont in battling the ancient evil). Surprised a family is living there, his plans go awry. Now, he must, as the Priest cautioned "protect" this family "from evil".

This is going to prove a tad challenging since young Dylan has befriended some really creepy kids who keep luring him into the basement to watch 8mm snuff films in which each of the kids are seen to kill everyone in their respective families. The mass murders are carried out with the help of Bughuul. Once the dirty deeds are done and committed to film, he claims the soul of the survivor to become part of his army of procurers. Though he looks horrendous in every respect, the demon scores points for his mega-taste in arcane modes of creating art through which his evil is funnelled - ham radios, 78rpm phonographs and now, 8mm film. (It's like the long-forgotten technologies to create art in olden times is what makes him a kind of Guy Maddin-like surrogate for a demon serial killer. Gotta love that!)

It becomes very clear that Sinister 2 is not only well-written, but seems tailor-made for a director with a number of thematic and storytelling arcs which allow him to use his unique approach to filmmaking to raise a horror franchise sequel well above its normal station.


Keep in mind my penchant for knowing as little about movies before I see them. All I knew going in was that I'd be seeing a sequel to a horror picture I genuinely enjoyed. As the key creative credits were not display until the end, I had no idea who directed the picture. Something seemed familiar, but only at the bitter end of the its unspooling did I slap my forehead and proclaim, "Of course!"

You see, Sinister 2 carefully parcels out the scares and delicious gore within a story which places emphasis upon the tribulations of a single mother, the very real horror of an abusive husband stalking her, the loneliness and fear a young boy is fraught with due to his lifetime of being beaten by a scum bucket Dad, the genuine sibling rivalries which occur normally in life but are exacerbated by demonic forces and last, but not least, the potential for love and healing between both Courtney and The Deputy, and maybe, just maybe, the creation of a loving nuclear family.

This was a film that moved, tantalized and finally, scared the living shit out of me. Upon discovering that it had been directed by the supremely gifted Ciarán Foy, whose first feature Citadel was one of the most exciting debuts I'd seen in years, I was both floored and delighted. Foy has a great eye, sensitivity-galore, an unabashed familiarity of using personal life-experience to bolster fantasy and the kind of showmanship and genre smarts to generate terrific horror pictures. He's going to make some genuine classics and masterpieces. Citadel is pretty much in that territory. Sinister 2 delivers a first-rate sequel to a very decent horror movie, but does so by upping the ante in all respects so that it outdistances its predecessor by leaps and bounds.

He's the real thing, but it's also proof that contemporary Hollywood should seek out genuine filmmakers and artists (as they have here) instead of the usual assortment of hacks they normally dredge-up these days. It's a winner all the way and I can hardly wait to discover Foy's next film.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: **** Four Stars

To read my previous (and extensive) writing on Foy's work, click HERE (in-depth analysis of Citadel, HERE (an in-depth interview) and HERE (original review during its Toronto After Dark Film Festival run).

Sinister 2 is a Focus Features/Gramercy Pictures theatrical release.