All posts by BS

Border (2018): Pointlessly Strange

A peculiar looking woman named Tina (Eva Melander) works as border security in Sweden. She possesses a preternatural sense of smell that allows her to literally sniff out smugglers. She doesn’t just smell food or drinks they might be hiding, she can smell guilt. She lives in a small house in the woods with a man that isn’t her significant other, but also not quite just a roommate either. One day she smells something wrong with a man, Vore (Eero Milonoff), who seems to share her physical features. Eventually she befriends him and offers to let him stay in her guest house. The film is based off a short story by John Ajvide Lindqvist who also wrote the novel Let the Right One In which was later adapted into two successful films. With these two films, Lindqvist has demonstrated his interest in loners and fairy tales. Let the Right One In had an isolated child bonding with a centuries old vampire and in Border we have a woman dismissed for her appearance who discovers that she is a troll – literally.

Initially, Tina’s sense of smell is intriguing. She seems like she might become some type of unconventional superhero a la Unbreakable. A subplot of this story does explore this idea as Tina assists law enforcement with a difficult case and it becomes the most interesting part of the movie. She is shown to be a kind person, despite how she is often treated, and would be an investigator worth rooting for in a crime story. But this is not that kind of film.

Tina and Vore’s romance isn’t the draw that Abbasi wants it to be.

Director Ali Abbasi (Shelley) uses Tina’s appearance to examine an outsider’s perspective. Tina has spent her life believing that she was an ugly person, disregarded by society and loved by only her father. In early scenes, Abbasi frames Tina by herself, gazing into the distance. He quickly establishes her isolation, but too much of the film is spent on these and other slow scenes of little value. It isn’t until Vore enters the picture that Tina realizes she is of another species. Vore explains that everything that made her different, her looks, her sense of smell, and the long scar on her lower back are related to her being a troll raised as a human. This revelation frees her from the negative labels she had absorbed. Her response to being nonhuman is contrasted to Vore’s. Tina hasn’t been treated well, but she harbors no ill will towards others while Vore has a militant pro-troll mindset. Through them we see how people can react to rejection and mistreatment and how these experiences can bind similarly outcast individuals.

Their shared trollhood eventually grows into a romance that, while believable, doesn’t have chemistry. It is touching to see Tina’s behavior change as she feels belonging for the first time, but the actual attraction between her and Vore has problems. Vore has a suspicious, almost predatory edge to him that makes even his kind praises seem dubious, but her attraction to him seems like a foregone conclusion. He is the only other troll so naturally they get together. Abbasi spends a significant amount of time on their relationship, but it, like the film in general, doesn’t have a payoff. The slow pacing and subdued acting make the film drag on until its unsatisfying conclusion. We’re left wondering why all the strangeness and deliberately unconventional plot details were even necessary when the final outcome is nothing special.

2/5 stars.

The Hate U Give (2018): A Message in an Average Film

Whenever movies like this are released, the distinction has to be made between the film and the message the film is trying to communicate. The two exist together but are often, as is the case here, of differing quality. Starr (Amandla Stenberg; Everything, Everything) is a 16 year old black girl that lives a poor, crime-ridden, predominantly black neighborhood, but goes to a private, mostly white high school. When coming home from a party with her childhood friend Khalil (Algee Smith; Detroit), she is stopped by a white police officer. He asks her friend, who was driving, to step outside and stay still while he checks their license plates. Khalil doesn’t listen and is shot dead when reaching for his hairbrush. The shooting and subsequent trial create unrest in the community and divide Starr as she wrestles with her role and the different reactions she receives from her friends at school and her family.

With a clear point to get across, the script wastes no time on subtlety. The characters shown and the way they fit together fall into easy stereotypes. The good kid turned drug dealer to pay for his grandmother’s cancer treatment, the former gangster gone straight to raise his family, the conceited rich kids, and more clichés are stacked together to remove any chance of an audience member having a thought that strays from the film’s goals. With every element of the plot so conspicuous in its intentions, the machinations of the narrative are clear and the artifice of the story becomes apparent. The writing can be manipulative to the point that it prevents the characters and the plot from feeling realistic and lessens the film’s impact.

The supporting characters are too stereotypical to matter.

There are additional problems that stem from the transition from book to film. Angie Thomas’s novel relies heavily on voiceover to show Starr’s inner thoughts. When used to depict the split personality Starr is forced to adopt just to fit in, this device works well. We are able to understand and sympathize with her lack of identity due to the two worlds she inhabits and how it can be exhausting. Sadly, the film doesn’t just limit voiceover to this purpose. It’s often used for exposition dumps. This is especially egregious at the film’s conclusion where Starr’s narration ties up every loose end in an act of blatant telling, rather than showing.

At its heart, the film wants to spread a message against hate. The title come’s from rapper Tupac Shakur’s “THUG LIFE” adage and the story seeks to humanize the frequent news headlines of killings and police brutality. Its greatest weapon are its the actors. Stenberg has an incredibly expressive face and she uses it to believably convey a broad range of emotions. Her father, played by Russell Hornsby (Fences), is a tough but loving patriarch. His strictness comes from learning difficult lessons and wanting to ensure his children never have to do the same. When seen together, Starr and her family create the emotional center director George Tillman Jr. (Barbershop) was likely intending. They show how regular, good people cope when subjected to adversity caused inherent systemic flaws present in their neighborhoods and society as a whole. Had the film carried this humanist angle in the script, it would have been influential without feeling calculated. As it stands, The Hate U Give has strong performances, but a manipulative plot that weakens the effectiveness of its message.

3/5 stars.

Suspiria (2018): Promising but Flawed Remake

Remaking a cult classic is never an easy task, but having Luca Guadagnino (Call Me By Your Name) behind the camera made it an interesting proposition. Like the original, the film follows Suzy Bannion (Dakota Johnson; Fifty Shades of Grey), an American, who comes to Germany to enroll in a famous dance school. On the day of her arrival, she hears whispers of another student who abruptly left the school for unknown reasons, leaving room for Suzy to join. She auditions in front of the demanding teacher Madame Blanc (Tilda Swinton; We Need to Talk About Kevin) who, along with the rest of the staff, takes an immediate interest in her and assigns her the lead role in their next performance. As the film progresses, Suzy’s friend Sara (Mia Goth; A Cure for Wellness) learns that the missing student had suspected their teachers of being witches and using students for an unknown nefarious purpose.

While the original Suspiria was almost a giallo film, the Italian thriller subgenre popularized by director Dario Argento, Guadagnino has moved the title firmly into body horror territory. There are still elements of suspense surround the details of the missing student, but where the first film kept the nature of the school as its main source of intrigue, this iteration never lets the audience think the school is normal. Instead, the question becomes a matter of what Blanc and company are doing and why, not whether it is occult. In early scenes, Guadagnino establishes the teachers as witches through a display of horrific pain. He shows a body contorting against its will in a grisly fashion that would make David Cronenberg proud and continues these effects throughout the duration.

Guadagnino takes the film’s visuals in the opposite direction of the original. While it is beautifully shot with skillful use of shadow, it lacks the color of the original. Argento’s Suspiria was known for its vibrant, contrasting hues and patterned production design. Guadagnino instead creates the aesthetic of Cold War Germany. The buildings are oppressive with dull, muted colors that point to a city in disrepair. The effect of this aesthetic change is that it not only distinguishes the film, but also places greater emphasis on the actual dancing. The energetic dance moves come to the foreground when surrounded by drab settings. It’s a smart decision that gives the remake its own visual identity.

The main performance is a brilliantly lit and choreographed scene.

Until the end, Guadagnino’s Suspiria is a compelling watch. He makes decisions that separate his film in interesting ways and is able to communicate the hypnotic effect of dance that lures Suzy to the school. The film becomes a sensory experience led by Johnson’s striking dancing. Her movements resemble sudden convulsions more than graceful ballet and her twisting, in concert with the film’s lighting, show a temporary euphoria that extends to the audience. It’s unclear how much of the choreography was completed by Johnson rather than a dance double, but her performance and the editing make it impossible to tell as she throws herself into every motion.

It’s the film’s climax that becomes its undoing. Guadagnino and screenwriter David Kajganich (A Bigger Splash) deserve credit for taking the story in a new direction, but the blood-soaked finale will leave most viewers confused rather than awestruck. The ending relies on a plot point that, while not convoluted, unexpectedly changes the film’s focus to something that was barely mentioned earlier. This isn’t a shift that recontextualizes prior events in new and interesting ways, it baffles by implying that the filmmakers were actually focused on what seemed like an inconsequential detail. There are also other background elements that end up superfluous. The repeated nods to WWII and actions that may have been committed under Nazi rule are never developed or addressed by the film’s conclusion. What started as a fresh and enveloping take on a classic film, stumbles and falls in its final stretch leaving Guadagnino’s remake a flawed work that never reaches its potential, despite having many great moments.

3/5 stars.

Burning (2018): A Thriller with Pain, Rage, and Guilt

Lee Chang-dong (Poetry) has created an immersive, oppressive thriller like few others. The film, adapted from the short story Barn Burning by Haruki Murakami, follows Jong-su (Yoo Ah-in), a young man who runs into a former classmate named Hae-mi (Jeon Jong-seo) who invites him to dinner. Hae-mi seems quirky and removed from normal behavior. She practices pantomime for no particular reason and is about to leave to Africa, seemingly on a whim. The two sleep together and she departs to Africa soon after. Weeks later, she leaves Jong-su a message asking him to meet her at the airport only for him to find her arriving with another man. Ben (Steven Yeun) is her new boyfriend and as the three spend time together Jong-su begins to question Ben’s motivations.

Steven Yeun deserves immense credit for building the central mystery. He is known for his work in The Walking Dead, but here he plays an entirely different role. Ben is an obnoxiously perfect individual. He is young but somehow wealthy despite not appearing to have a demanding job – or any job at that. He says he “plays” when asked about his occupation, an answer so terse it feels condescending. But he is never overtly mean. He is actually kind to Jong-su, invites him out with his friends, and never seems to view Jong-su as a threat to his relationship with Hae-mi, again to the point of offense as if Jong-su is too plain or lowly to be a rival. Yeun communicates Ben’s personality with eerily restrained movements. His entire physique moves with a slow, quiet confidence. His words feel measured and unemotional and his aloof smiles hint, ever so slightly, that his interests lie elsewhere. Yeun subtle acting commands attention during every second of his screen time and his uncanny mannerisms make him a shadowy figure that we feel compelled to unravel.

Yeun’s perfectly controlled movements make his character all the more mysterious.

It’s rare to see a film simultaneously this quiet and this angry. Beneath the film’s placid surface is a torrent of frustration, confusion, and latent aggression. Jong-su is a disaffected youth, working jobs as needed while trying to become a writer. His father is being sent to jail for an altercation with a city inspector that could have been forgiven with a simple apology note, but he was too prideful to do so. This same pride is implied to exist within Jong-su as he suffers the indignation of being replaced by Ben as Hae-mi’s love interest. He isn’t outwardly upset, but the jealousy is present in his envious stares. Ben has appeared out of nowhere and seems to, inexplicably, eclipse him in every way possible. He is extremely handsome, poised, and apparently has an active social life – all things Jong-su cannot say. As the film’s mystery grows, so does the exasperation. Lee uses the events of this thriller to force the audience to confront the crippling ambiguity of modern life. Jong-su, despite his efforts, continues to fail in even slightly understanding the events that may have taken place. If anything, his search only leaves him with more doubts about what he previously believed. Instead of answers, he is left with pain, rage, and guilt at his own desperate situation. Lee expands the film from beyond the thriller genre to a look into hopelessness, ambiguity, and the actions they can create.

4/5 stars.

First Man (2018): Gosling in Space

After the perfectly fine, but ludicrously well-received La La Land, there was surely a mountain of pressure on director Damien Chazelle to continue the hot streak with his next feature but First Man won’t quite hit the mark for those that loved his previous film. Ryan Gosling (Drive) plays Neil Armstrong as he works at NASA piloting test flights leading up to a planned voyage to the moon. He is shown in equal measure at work and at home with his wife Janet (Claire Foy; The Crown) and his two kids. Much of the film tries to humanize Armstrong. The film opens with a personal story that most will be unfamiliar with, but adds depth to his motivations. Chazelle emphasizes Armstrong’s mix of technical acumen, he had an engineering background, as well as his instincts as a pilot.

The film’s greatest asset is its set pieces. The various launches are shot with a uncontrollably shaking camera that effectively communicates the chaos and danger of prototype spacecraft. Chazelle builds anxiety into these events with sound design consisting of rumbling and clattering metals as well as environment cues. The sight of oscillating fluorescent lights as Armstrong makes his way to the launchpad wordlessly communicates the dangers of attempting space travel. It’s the placement of these set pieces that hurts the film. Rather than build up to the crescendo of the film lunar mission, the best set piece is also the first. It makes for a enticing opening, but when they following missions progressively lose steam, it reduces anticipation instead of building it.

Overall, the film is too subdued. It’s strange to call a movie about rockets blasting off into space quiet, but besides the set pieces, Chazelle’s direction is overly restrained. In the climactic moon landing scene, the film goes silent and what should be an awe-inspiring moment ends up feeling lackluster. The film tries to make use of Janet and their children increase the emotional stakes to Armstrong’s mission, but it is never able to fully develop the bonds between the adult cast. We see the father’s connection to his children, but neither his relationship with his wife nor the comradery between the astronauts is enough to create the desired effect.

Gosling’s stoic acting isn’t suited to Chazelle’s bifurcated goals.

Part of this has to do with Chazelle’s use of Ryan Gosling. Gosling’s main acting ability is holding blank facial expressions while implying a sea of emotions underneath. He uses that same technique here, but it’s hampered without the bonds to others and an only partially justified dedication to his pursuit. Chazelle focuses on the actual process of achieving lunar travel so much that Armstrong ends up as a supporting character in his own story. The historical detail and desire to depict the inner workings of NASA at the time are commendable, but it is at odds with the central story. In some ways, it seems like Chazelle was trying to make both an ensemble piece about a gargantuan task completed collectively by a talented team, like Spotlight, and Armstrong’s personal story. Unable to make this difficult balance succeed, the inner workings at NASA crowd out Armstrong’s emotional journey and leave Gosling underutilized in an otherwise well-staged film.

3/5 stars.

A Star is Born (2018): Bradley Can Sing. Gaga Can Act.

As far as actor-turned-directors go, Bradley Cooper (Silver Linings Playbook) has proven himself to be someone to watch. Despite being the 4th iteration of this story, the 40-years since the previous rendition prevent this version from feeling too familiar. Jack (Cooper) is a rock singer past his prime who hears Ally (Lady Gaga) perform at a local bar after one of his concerts. Struck by her voice, they spend the night drinking and wandering town together where he learns that she is also a songwriter. He convinces her to come to his next show and gets her to sing an original song onstage, launching her into the public eye. The story centers on their relationship and the strain caused by her rapid rise to fame and his alcoholism.

The first act is nearly flawless. Everything from their initial meeting to the first on-stage performance hits the desired notes. Cooper and Gaga have an easy, natural chemistry and their playful teasing is endearing. Seeing their interactions and witnessing Ally’s talent in her bar performance make their mutual attraction feel believable and their affections genuine.  Their romance does hinge on a particularly annoying plot device. Ally claims she is unable to succeed in the music industry because of her looks. There have undoubtedly been people told something similar to this, but, as is typical for a studio film, they don’t have the guts to follow through in the casting. Lady Gaga isn’t unattractive by any means. She isn’t even normal or just slightly good-looking, she is a blatantly attractive person. This makes every moment where she degrades herself hollow and even a bit irritating as it comes up later in the story. If her appearance is such a key part of the story, they should have cast someone who fit the description to at least some degree. Instead, a large part of Ally’s character is based on a flaw that we know to be untrue.

Lady Gaga’s voice is amazing and the film’s music takes full advantage of it.

It turns out that Bradley Cooper can sing. He’s not the best singer in the world but his low voice and scruffy beard are enough to become the aging performer. His music is somewhat like Lynyrd Skynyrd, straddling the line between country and rock, but it’s Lady Gaga who steals the limelight. As a professional singer with a killer voice, she is a joy to watch and listen to. Her vocal performance, when she goes from being hesitant to get onstage to blowing everyone away with the strength of her vocals, is rapturous and a highpoint of the film.

She, along with the supporting cast, deliver fine performances. Gaga never feels like a celebrity casting choice and inhabits Ally naturally. There are also small roles featuring Dave Chapelle (The Chapelle Show) as an old friend of Jack that now leads a normal life and Sam Elliott (The Hero) as Jack’s older brother and manager. Chappelle is drastically different from his typical comedic roles, but perfect as the person that can deliver tough love to the leading character and Elliott brings emotional intensity to the film while hinting at their difficult upbringing and the root of Jack’s drinking problem.

With all the great performances, the script is sadly focused on the least interesting one: Cooper’s. He is perfectly capable in the role, but it’s a well-worn archetype. Perhaps this is to expected with his writer/director/actor credit, but the film would have benefited from a more even emphasis on Ally. Cooper has made a strong directorial debut with smart casting decisions, an impeccable first act, and an effective ending, but is somewhat help back by the misplaced focus on his own character.

3/5 stars.

Luz (Beyond Fest 2018): Auditory Possession

When a horror movie makes its opening credits scary, you know you’re in for a treat. Coming from a student’s thesis in Germany, the film follows Luz (Luana Velis), a cab driver who takes herself to a police station following a car accident. Luz is uncooperative during questioning and keeps repeating obscene distortions of traditional prayers. In an attempt to find out what happened during the accident and where her missing passenger might be, the police staff enlist a psychiatrist named Dr. Rossini (Jan Bluthardt) to put her in a trance and re-enact the events leading up to the crash.

But this isn’t a police procedural, this is a possession movie. Before the reenactment, the psychiatrist is drinking at a bar when a strange woman approaches him. She convinces him to go the bathroom with her and an “exchange” happens. Something passes from her to him and he conducts the hypnosis as if under some kind of mind control himself as the unknown force tries to get closer to Luz.

Velis’s acting compensates for the film’s limited settings.

Somehow, director Tilman Singer makes a woman sitting on a chair involving. It should be silly watching a adult pretend to drive a car in the middle of a police station, but Velis sells every second. She doesn’t overact, but rather delivers a performance indistinguishable from how she would have behaved in an actual cab. Singer also makes perfect use of filming conventions related to vehicles. He frames his images in the exact way car scenes are typically shot, subconsciously creating the feeling of Luz being in an actual cab. The limited, mundane location does still hurt the film, but the complete commitment combined with Singer’s staging make the entire inquiry equal parts mysterious and tense.

Visually, Singer pulls from films of the 70s and 80s. The film is shot on 16mm so there is significant grain to the images, but also the hazier look of lower budget films from the period. The film deliberately lacks definition making it feel less like a throwback and more like a restoration. Singer relies on this haziness to further enforce the mystery. Fog is often present, despite being indoors, and there is an unshakeable feeling that we don’t have a clear picture, both literally and figuratively, of everything at stake.

Luz will likely never get attention from the Academy, but it deserves recognition for its incredible sound design. This is a film that demands to be seen with the best audio system possible. Surround sound is a must. Singer crafts an uneasy soundscape with low rumbling and a score that varies from echoing clanks to electronica to piercing violins. He makes some daring moves during the hypnosis by holding on a completely black screen as Luz shuts her eyes and Dr. Rossini whispers to her. The sound mix has his voice traveling around the speakers, as if circling the audience, giving the full feeling of his frightening presence. As the film reaches its climactic moments, the abrasive, unnerving sounds never recede creating unease in the audience. It’s a satisfyingly oppressive effect that, along with Singers sharp direction, elevates Luz to a possession movie with anxiety-inducing mystery.

4/5 stars.

Shadow (2018): Shades of Disappointment

After the tepid reviews from his semi-westernized big budget action film The Great Wall starring Matt Damon, it’s great to see Zhang Yimou (Hero) return to the wuxia genre. It’s just a shame that his newest project doesn’t live up to his previous works. Set in the Three Kingdoms period of Chinese history, the story centers on the relationship between two nations. The King of Pei (Ryan Zheng; The Great Wall) has a peace treaty with the Yangs led by General Yang (Jun Hu; Red Cliff) who occupies an important city that previously belonged to the Pei. Against the wishes of his people, the King refuses any attempts to reclaim the city which puts him at odds with his military leader known as the Commander (Chao Deng; The Mermaid). The Commander arranges a duel with General Yang that amounts to a declaration of war which leads to him being stripped of his title, but there is more to the Commander than the King is aware of and the movement to take back the their former homeland is growing behind the scenes.

For a director known for his vibrant use of color, Shadow represents a bold departure. Each scene of Hero was saturated in its own bold hue and House of Flying Daggers featured a kaleidoscopic use of blues, pinks, and reds, but here Yimou limits himself to black, white, and anything in between. It’s a testament to his strength as a visual stylist that the film is so richly detailed. Yimou makes use of every imaginable shade of gray with only blood splatter and skin tones breaking up palette. The incredible production and costume design use texture to compensate for the lack of colors. Ornate armor, layered wardrobes, and detailed stonework keep the film visually exciting throughout its runtime.

The mosaic yin yang-shaped fighting platform is a wonderful use of texture and color.

The action doesn’t live up to the high bar set by Yimou’s previous films. There are still fight scenes that fans of martial arts films may enjoy, but the violence lacks impact. The combat feels fake and doesn’t have the death-defying acrobatic quality typical from Yimou. He continues to use wire work but makes the costly decision to augment it with additional special effects. He uses a speed-up, slow-down technique for the combat similar, but inferior, to Zack Snyder’s style. What made Yimou’s actions scenes so enthralling was the escalating tension from watching two opponents, in real-time, narrowly escape a volley of attacks. It may be that this choice was necessitated by a cast that doesn’t have the talent of Wushu masters like Donnie Yen and Jet Li, but it’s an effect that breaks immersion and cripples what should be the film’s main draw.

Without action to fall back on, the film’s story bears an unfortunate burden. To outsiders unfamiliar with the historical background of the narrative, much of the motivations will be assumed rather than understood. The desire to take back their city is logical enough but the generational rivalries and tensions may be lost on many. This could be overlooked were it not for the acting, or rather, the overacting. So many of the lines are screamed, snarled, or cackled with the overdone expressions of a classic Bond villain that it becomes hard to take anything seriously. The cast’s faces contort with excess emotion that puts the film closer to the cheesy martial arts movies of the 70s and 80s than Yimou’s best work. While the film makes for some stunning framings, it is an unexpected disappointment. We didn’t need to see Zhang Yimou taking cues from 300. His own style is so much better than that.

2/5 stars.

Widows (2018): Finishing the Job

Coming off his best picture winning 12 Years a Slave, director Steve McQueen has made the switch to studio fare. Widows features a noticeably larger budget and higher-profile cast than his previous works. The film opens with four men attempting a heist, led by Liam Neeson (Taken), only for it to go horribly wrong. In the background of this heist, there is a contentious election for alderman of a poor Chicago district between the wealthy Jack Mulligan (Colin Farell; The Lobster), a man whose family has held the role for generations, and a local crime boss named Jamal Manning (Brian Tyree Henry; Atlanta). Manning’s money was taken and destroyed in the failed heist so he and his enforcer (Daniel Kaluuya; Get Out) hold Neeson’s wife Veronica (Viola Davis; The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby) responsible for the two million dollars. Veronica stumbles onto her husband’s plans for his next heist and rallies the wives of the other men who died to steal enough money to pay off Manning and support themselves.

The script, written by McQueen and Gillian Flynn (Gone Girl), emphasizes the cunning of each character and, in particular, the resourcefulness of the leading women. Despite their complete lack of criminal history the women are able to trick and manipulate others to get the tools they need, even with Manning’s threats looming over them. The logical leap from being in mourning of their husbands to committing armed robbery is never fully addressed, but the film moves quickly over this detail and lets the more exciting prep and execution take priority.

Davis manages to give her character a believable frailty beneath her hardened expressions.

Davis leads the cast in a commanding performance. As the ringleader of the would-be criminals, she is uncompromising in her demands. She organizes the heist with an iron fist, but is not unfeeling. McQueen balances her tough exterior with flashbacks to tender moments between her and her husband. Davis exemplifies both the grief of someone who has suddenly lost their partner as well as the harsh pragmatism of someone in a life or death scenario. Her strength is only rivalled by Kaluuya’s character. As Jamal’s brother, he does the dirty work his sibling can’t be associated with. Less sadistic than annoyed and impatient with the people preventing him from completing his goals, he is vicious with his actions. His cold brutality is repeatedly reinforced, but is best highlighted in a unexpectedly involving scene where he lets two failed henchmen continue rapping before exacting his punishment. The sole lemon is Farrell whose natural speaking voice cripples his best efforts. The bizarre result of his attempt at an American accent is continually distracting since his character is supposed to be a local, making him the most Irish sounding “6th generation Chicagoan” you’ll ever hear.

Never one to shy away from violence onscreen, McQueen brings a welcome intensity. The opening heist quickly establishes his knack for vivid set pieces when allowed a larger budget to work with. The film also greatly benefits from his and cinematographer Sean Bobbitt’s framings. Like in 12 Years a Slave, when an extreme scene is about to play out, be it a murder or a difficult conversation, the camera will often look away from action, letting our imaginations take over. This technique is more unsettling and effective than simply showing the action as it makes the viewer a participant and forces us to speculate on what must be happening just offscreen. It’s unlikely to win an Oscar due to its genre, but Steve McQueen’s Widows is a intense and exciting heist film led by a group of strong performances.

4/5 stars.

Assassination Nation (2018): Gen Z Catharsis

Assassination Nation is one of the most explicitly Gen Z titles ever made. The film opens with a trigger warning, features teens dropping modern slang, and heavily involves social media use in its plot. Four young women go about their last year of high school as typical teenagers until personal information is released online en masse and they become the target of an angry mob. The dialogue and performances of the leading teens is exaggerated to fall into the worst stereotypes of how the teens of today communicate. It can sometimes be irritating to hear the self-centered, crass way they talk but it plays into the transgressive vibe of the film.

Director Sam Levinson (Another Happy Day) leans into the Gen Z tone with his visuals. He shoots several scenes of debauchery at high school parties but does so with unique methods. He frequently uses three videos displayed in split screen like vertical footage shot on a smartphone that gives the film a voyeuristic aesthetic, reminding the viewers that every part of these teenagers’ lives could be recorded at any time, whether they want it to be or not. The abundance of these party scenes can be excessive and the depravity displayed can be a little repulsive. Levinson continues to use these sequences even after the point has been made. When things escalate and the townspeople no longer trust each other, they begin to wear masks for privacy. Regular people dressed in masks to do mundane chores like mowing the lawn is an arresting visual. It immediately drives home the lack of control we have over how our lives are displayed.

The final action scenes are a cathartic release.

Like a Black Mirror episode, the film’s themes center on technology, disregard for humanity, and an extreme case of what their collision could lead to. The film begins with a local politician having his personal pictures and texts released. They reveal a secret double life of crossdressing and homosexuality that completely contradict his conservative, family values campaign. Because of his status and the revelations found, his leaks do not come under fire. When this leads to horrific consequences, they become new topics for “edgy” humor and memes completely unconcerned with the person they discuss. Levinson takes the topic a step further when the town’s residents have their files released. The townspeople are in uproar over having their privacy violated while still downloading data about their neighbors and snooping into their personal lives. Their anger is contrasted with people, mostly teenagers, not only viewing this content but also encouraging more releases. They show no remorse for their actions and no empathy for those affected. Everything they do is “for the lulz”. Even when people are suffering from these cyber-attacks, they still cannot escape the dehumanizing effect of the internet and virality.

When the time comes for bloodshed, Levinson brings a playful and stylish tone to the action. As the townspeople try to discover, and punish, the culprits behind the data leaks, copious amounts of blood are spilled, even rivalling Neon’s other title Revenge. There are references to Japanese B-movies from the 70s in the flamboyant red outfits the women wear and in the over-the-top weaponry they use to defend themselves as Levinson has fun with their revenge. The film also features the best home invasion scene since Blue Ruin. Levinson places his camera outside the house and smoothly moves around the exterior and up and down the multiple floors, observing the trespassers and the unsuspecting victims from a distance in long unbroken takes. Rather than being an omniscient eye, the camera appears to be searching, and struggling, to follow the action. It reveals bits and pieces of people moving about and the lack of details combined with the knowledge of what is coming is nerve-wracking. Assassination Nation works as both a commentary on the dehumanization of technology and as cathartic, thrilling genre fare.

4/5 stars.