Category Archives: 2016

Embers (2016)

Embers takes place in a near future where a virus that causes memory loss has spread to the entire population. When people go to sleep or even after only waiting a few minutes, they forget who they are and what they are doing. The world as we know it has collapsed and the remaining survivors wander aimlessly through the destroyed homes, picking up and losing companions along the way. We are presented a few different stories. A man (Jason Ritter; Freddy vs. Jason) and a woman (Iva Gocheva; Sneakers) wake up next to each other in a dilapidated home. Neither recalls their names or their relationship to each other. The only clue they have is a blue piece of cloth each has tied around their wrists, indicating some type of connection. They decide that they must have been a couple, settle on names for each other, and explore the area, searching for supplies. A parallel story involves a man and his young adult daughter who have been living in an underground bunker for the past decade. While cutoff from society, the two are also disease free and can recall their past. Their zoned days and nights are a point of contention for the daughter who wants to experience more than their routine existence.

The setting reflects the lives of the characters. Without the memory of having a home, nothing has been maintained. Buildings are crumbling, rooms are in disarray, and everything seems to be abandoned. Even the cinematography feels blank. The colors are desaturated with the palette emphasizing shades of gray above all else. The world feels deliberately empty and drained of life.

The dialogue is void of emotion as the characters are of memory.
The dialogue is as void of emotion as the characters are of memory.

Interactions between characters are unfortunately as cold and stilted as the environment. The initial conversation between Ritter and Gocheva feels unprofessional, like first time actors attempting a dry run at a scene. The dialogue itself is weighed down by the exposition clumsily woven in to explain the background of the world. Each time the characters try to connect verbally, it only shows how poorly written the film is.  As the father and daughter argue over the value of a dull, repetitive life with memory versus a uncertain but varied life without it, the gravity of their discussion never hits home. It just feels like a whiny, immature child arguing with a controlling parent. Even when it gestures at deeper emotions, the combination of amateur acting and underdeveloped dialogue undercut the film’s ambitions.

There are only a few moments when the film is able to successfully explore the implications of its premise. The rapid memory loss means that even the strongest emotions and events in a life, good or bad, will soon be forgotten. This has effects beyond simply forgetting one’s own name. A severe, life-changing emotional trauma can simply evaporate. People stop in the middle of crying because they have forgotten why they started in the first place. A short separation from a loved one can lead to forgetting their existence. How does a child develop without the ability to form memories? First time director Claire Carré clearly wants to explore these scenarios but loses sight of her goals in favor of explaining the setup. Instead of fully examining the consequences or benefits of life without memory, Embers squanders its interesting premise with wooden acting and exposition heavy dialogue.

2/5 stars.

Swiss Army Man (2016)

Swiss Army Man is perhaps the strangest film to come out this year. Paul Dano (Love & Mercy) plays Hank, a man marooned on a small island about to hang himself in desperation until a body washes onshore. That body is the corpse of Daniel Radcliffe (Harry Potter) and upon realizing the body is dead, Hank returns to hanging himself until he is interrupted by the corpse violently convulsing. He realizes the corpse is farting and propelling itself across the water. Then Hank does the only natural thing and proceeds to ride the body like a jet ski fueled by flatulence. The duo make it to a nearby shore and attempt to reach society. Along the way the body slowly comes to life. Manny, the dead body, starts by barely talking then gains more abilities like spewing water for Hank to drink.

The beginning of the film may alienate viewers. The focus on farts, bodily fluids, and other bodily functions initially seem juvenile and can be repulsive. Nobody wants to watch someone drink water spraying out of someone else’s mouth. While these may be the most talked about aspects of the film, the directors Daniel Scheinert and Daniel Kwan (credited as “Daniels”) only use these as plot devices to advance the story. They are interested in much more than the sometimes vulgar beginning.

Hank's etiquette lessons are detailed.
Hank’s etiquette lessons are incredibly detailed.

Daniel Radcliffe deserves enormous credit for his performance. His absolute commitment to the role make the character somehow believable and likable. His partially fixed facial expressions, belabored voice, and cumbersome movements all convey a body recovering from rigor mortis. As Manny becomes more intelligent and gains an ever expanding array of uses, Radcliffe’s delivery makes the character seem authentically new to the world. His acting is what makes the emotional impact of the story possible.

The film proves to be about the relationship between Hank and Manny. Hank goes to great lengths to carry Manny with him as they try to find their way back home. Along the way he does his best to educate Manny on how to behave like a living human being. He constructs elaborate, but makeshift, recreations of regular life to show Manny how to interact with others. The main skill he focuses on is talking to an attractive stranger on the bus. The Daniels use this process to examine love from an elementary perspective. Manny’s increasing intellect leads to several childlike questions that probe at social conventions. He speaks his mind because he doesn’t know what or why inhibitions exist and as Hank tries to answer, he discovers the insecurities that have caused him to miss out on life. A recurring topic is “What does weird mean?” and the role of other people’s perceptions. Hank sees how he let his lack of confidence prevent him from taking the actions necessary to achieve his desires. During these lessons, the connection between Hank and Manny grows and the power of their friendship emerges as a major theme that is examined with uncommon depth. The film becomes a story of self-actualization and building confidence to become comfortable in one’s own skin. Swiss Army Man is a sweet, earnest exploration of social norms and the value of strong bonds, but done in the most bizarre way possible

4/5 stars.

Girl Asleep (2016)

Part satire, part surreal adventure, Girl Asleep is an incredibly original and entertaining feature. The film trades in lots of deadpan humor and the main cast is immediately endearing. Greta (Bethany Whitmore; Mary and Max) is an adorable misfit with her shy demeanor in stark contrast to her relatives. Greta’s family is well developed but the only thing louder than them is the eye-popping 70s color palate. The movie is set designed like a Wes Anderson film with a dollhouse structure but featuring a bright, fun energy. Even the intertitles are creatively inserted. Picture the staging of The Grand Budapest Hotel combined with the energy and aesthetic of Boogie Nights. The entire first half of the film exudes this spirit even though the main character is a self-conscious teenager.

Director Rosemary Myers captures the awkwardness of adolescence. Greta is hypersensitive to how she is perceived and freaks out at the thought of a party thrown for her with all her classmates invited. She’s not ready for all that entails. She doesn’t want to wear a fancy dress, wear makeup, or do her hair. Her mom on the other hand convinces her to go along with the idea.

The party itself is buzzing with energy. Greta’s schoolmates don’t just show up for the party, they make an entrance. Every person saunters and dances into the house like groomsmen or bridesmaids at a wedding reception. These entrances turn into impromptu synchronized dance numbers that are nothing short of exuberant. It isn’t until the “Plastics” (they’re not actually called that but they are basically the plastics from Mean Girls) show up with a humiliating song written just for Greta that things take a turn for the worse. She retreats to her room and gets shocked while opening up her old music box. This is where things start getting weird.

A variety of costumed freaks lie just beyond Greta's backyard.
A variety of costumed freaks lie just beyond Greta’s backyard fence.

In the second half, Girl Asleep becomes a David Lynch film. Like Naomi Watts opening the blue box in Mulholland Drive, Greta enters into a dream world where all the horrors of her imagination live. A strange creature takes her music box into the mysterious woods behind her house and as Greta follows she finds herself pursued by a variety of monsters. Each represents a piece of her current life and is played by one of the existing cast members. Her dad plays a disgusting freak that wants to make fart jokes and the Mean girls are feral animals chasing her.

Myers uses this surreal escapade to explore Greta’s inner feelings. Despite the extreme tonal shift, the second half feels natural. Each of the beings she meets in this alternate reality is a manifestation of her current situation. The monsters, like their real-life counterparts, pose a risk to Greta’s life as she knows it. This is a coming of age story and each one represents the societal and parental pressures Greta faces as well as the remnants of childhood she still holds on to. As she deals with these creatures, Greta learns what is important to her and what type of person she wants to be. Girl Asleep uses deadpan humor and surreal explorations of inner conflicts to create a strange, unpredictable,  and, at times, unnerving examination of one girl’s transition to womanhood.

4/5 stars.

The Age of Shadows (2016)

In the first outing since his Arnold Schwarzenegger starring Hollywood debut The Last Stand, Kim Jee-woon returns with a film set in the 1930s when Korea was under Japanese rule. The Age of Shadows features Song Kang-ho (Memories of Murder) as Lee Jeong-chool, a Korean working as a police captain for the Japanese police and tasked with capturing members of the independence movement. In order to succeed, he must infiltrate their group and gain the trust of the leaders. Along the way his allegiances are put into question, both by the rebels and by his Japanese superiors.

The film’s storyline is overly complex. It’s 139 minute runtime is bloated with several back and forths between the rebels and the Japanese police trying to delineate each group’s hierarchy. Unfortunately these scenes are edited like action movies. The rapid intercutting is clearly intended to prevent them from becoming stale but instead limits comprehension and becomes frustrating. Why spend so many minutes on these details only to undermine their impact with the rapid pacing? It’s possible that the film is intended for Korean audiences that may be more familiar with the historical background and may not need the setup explained, but even so, by not letting these scenes breathe, the bulk of the film’s runtime is wasted.

The film's opening is one of its brightest moments.
The film’s opening is one of its brightest moments.

Even with the amount of time devoted to exposition, the film doesn’t develop its characters. The rebels are shown planning their next actions but aren’t given any backstory. They are just assumed to be the protagonists without any time spent convincing us they are worth rooting for. It’s obvious that no country would want to be run by another, but the Japanese characters aren’t proven to be villains. Again, the film may be assuming that Korean audiences will automatically sympathize with the Korean characters, but from an outsider’s perspective there aren’t many reasons to pick a side. Furthermore, certain characters are claimed to be invaluable within the rebel network, but we’re never shown why. As rebel leaders are placed in peril we’re supposed to care, but how can we without understanding why they are important? Only Lee’s character has some growth. His internal struggle with working for the Japanese while being a Korean is understandable, but his path to his current situation isn’t explained. What are his motivations? Was this an easy change decision for him? Without these answers, we are left detached from the main characters and their central conflicts.

Kim is known for his frantic, bloody action scenes but there are too few present here. The film opens with a chase scene that is frenetic occasionally humorous, and features some of the gore he is known for but quickly gives way to exposition heavy beginning. Save for a well staged later set piece on a train, there are no more extended action scenes. Even the violence seems limited compared to most of his work. Neglecting these sequences in favor of labyrinthine plotting was a major mistake. Kim’s greatest strength is his ability to create bloody but playful combat. His direction remains agreeably slick, but the plodding storyline and lack of action make the film feel uninvolving and overlong.

3/5 stars.

The Invitation (2016)

Every once in a while there comes a movie that you want to talk about, but can’t. A couple years ago it was The One I Love and this year it is The Invitation. The movie is best approached with no prior knowledge. No synopsis, no trailer, and even no review. If you’re interested in a film that is more than it initially seems, check it out. If you need more convincing, the review below features some details about the setup and style of the film, but no major plot spoilers.

Will (Logan Marshall-Green; Prometheus) and his girlfriend Kira (Emayatzy Corinealdi; Middle of Nowhere) are driving to reunite with old friends at a dinner party hosted by Will’s estranged ex-wife Eden (Tammy Blanchard; Moneyball) and her new partner David (Michiel Huisman; Game of Thrones). The initial encounters are uncomfortable. All of the guests are clearly avoiding mentioning some previous event and Eden and David are trying to prove that they have moved past it. As Will moves around the house, he sees brief, warped flashbacks of memories he has clearly suppressed. In the end it’s not what happened in the past that is important, but rather what it implies for the future.

The early acting is amateurish. The actors, while laudably diverse, behave like first timers in a student film, poorly attempting to replicate casual conversation between friends. The writing doesn’t do the actors any favors. Each character is painted in broad strokes and can be irritating initially. The one positive side effect is that their clumsy dialogue distracts from the events to come.

The dinner party never becomes comfortable.
The dinner party never becomes comfortable.

Those events take their time to arrive. The Invitation is at its heart a slow burn thriller. Director Karyn Kusama (Jennifer’s Body) takes her time creating the setting and establishing the relationships between the characters. The home is an LA mansion that is well lit and eerily perfect in its interior design. It feels like a model home – extravagant, but by its nature sterile. Kusama makes this expansive house feel increasingly claustrophobic. The gated home is confined and the dinner party becomes a microcosm separated from the rest of the world. Every moment of conflict becomes momentous because the home is the only setting acknowledged.

The score and sound design play a key role in the suspense. The soundtrack features screeching violins and subtle white noise that immediately communicate dread. As certain characters become agitated, the sound design reflects their emotional state. Banal noises like the chewing of food or the clanking of utensils against plates become grotesque and cacophonous. Even when the dinner seems commonplace at first glance, the film’s audio always hints at more to come.

As Will’s unease evolves into suspicion, every action is called into question. Who are the two guests that the rest of the party doesn’t know? What is the real reason for bringing everyone together? Even small, innocuous gestures are implied to have ulterior motives. The tension increases and it’s unclear whether Will’s mistrust is warranted. Without revealing too much, the ending delivers an answer and has further implications for the world of the movie. The Invitation grows from a socially awkward dinner party to a paranoid thriller of potentially sinister intentions.

4/5 stars.

Don’t Breathe (2016)

Home invasion films are a well-worn genre, but Don’t Breathe makes  a smart twist on the formula. Imagine Home Alone from the perspective of the robbers, only instead of Macaulay Culkin setting traps it was an old, murderous man.

Alex (Dylan Minnette; Prisoners), Rocky (Jane Levy; Evil Dead), and Money (Daniel Zovatto; It Follows) are three 20-somethings making their living robbing homes and selling the goods on the black market. Alex’s dad runs a home security firm, so they are able to get passcodes and keys to enter and exit houses unnoticed. Rocky and Money have the intention of leaving town if they can get the funds, but they aren’t making enough off each house. Fortunately, they get a tip about an old man (Stephen Lang; Avatar) who won a six figure cash settlement after his daughter was killed in a car accident by a wealthy teenager. He lives by himself in a mostly empty part of town and supposedly has the settlement money inside. The best part is the man is blind, so it’s an easy job…or is it?

Like the recent horror hit It FollowsDon’t Breathe uses modern day Detroit as its setting. Maybe it says more about the economic situation of the city than anything else, but the graffiti covered facades and overgrown lawns of the long abandoned neighboring properties hint at the situation to come. Why would someone, especially someone with a large sum of money, still live in a place like that?

As the team breaks into the house, director Fede Alvarez (Evil Dead) establishes the setting. It would be easy for the movie to feel like a bottle film, restricted to one main location because of financial reasons not creative ones, but that is not the case. The home has a maze-like architecture and Alvarez uses impressive cinematography early on to explore it. The camera weaves in and out of rooms, rarely cutting, and lingers on objects bound to be of importance later. These shots lay the foundation for the film and inform the audience of the possibilities that exist. In less skilled filmmaking, plot twists feel cheap and convenient, but here each twist is subtly foreshadowed early on. You may have an idea that something will be important, but chances are you won’t be able to guess how.

Lang animal-like behavior is always frightening.
Lang’s bestial behavior is always frightening.

The blind man is not what he seems and the team of robbers soon find themselves in trouble. Lang dominates the screen with his intensity. He becomes animal-like. Lang rarely speaks and relies on his other senses to find the robbers. He sticks his nose in the air and sniffs like a feral wolf searching for prey. Unlike the intruders, he knows his house intimately and takes full advantage of this as he walks through the halls feeling his way across the house.

His blindness makes for incredibly tense encounters. In most home invasion films, the characters are only worried that they will be spotted, but here they have to be wary of a tiny creak of the wood floors setting off Lang’s hypersensitive hearing. It also makes for near misses that come uncomfortably close to confrontations. Lang can’t see his uninvited guests and often moves within inches of them.

Lang’s sheer physicality makes him a terrifying threat. He is revealed to be a veteran whose sinewy arms and fast, focused movements show his prowess. At one point during my screening a woman shouted “He’s worse than the Terminator!” and she was right. Lang’s efforts are unrelenting and the justice he delivers is unforgiving.

In the last act, the film layers on multiple twists that will divide audiences. Some may view them as unrealistic while others will see them as depraved and unnecessary. Each additional wrinkle pulls the story further away from believable and turns Lang from a man to a monster, reducing the credibility the film had established. Yet, Lang is able to overcome these missteps. Even as the third act falters,  the strong setup, creative encounters, and Lang’s presence make Don’t Breathe a film of often unbearable tension.

4/5 stars.

The Light Between Oceans (2016)

Despite its similar naming structure, The Light Between Oceans, shares few similarities to its predecessor The Place Beyond the Pines. Set in Australia shortly after WWI, the film stars Michael Fassbender (Shame) as Tom Sherbourne, a veteran hired as a lightkeeper for a remote island. Soon, he meets and falls in love with Isabel (Alicia Vikander; Ex Machina). After their marriage, they have two miscarriages within three years leaving Isabel despondent until a rowboat washes ashore. Inside they find a dead man and the baby girl that will forever change their lives. Tom attempts to report the incident, but buckles under Isabel’s desire to have a child.

Once the little girl, Lucy, enters the picture, Tom and Isabel’s lives are filled with joy. They play with their new daughter and show her off to their family and friends. The hapiness lasts until her christening where Tom spots a tearful woman, Hannah (Rachel Weisz; The Deep Blue Sea), praying in front of a grave for her husband and infant daughter who were lost at sea the same day he found Lucy. Racked with guilt and unable to persuade Isabel to confess their sins, Tom leaves a note for Hannah letting her know her baby is safe, but her husband is dead. What soon follows is a messy situation. Lucy taken from the parents she knows to the rightful mother she wants nothing to do with as Tom and Isabel face repercussions of their actions.

In its early parts, The Light Between Oceans resembles a Nicholas Sparks movie. The leads only require one picnic before Isabel brings up the idea of marriage so they can spend the next 10 minutes handwriting cliche-ridden professions of love a la Dear John. “I never knew I could talk about the way I feel”, writes Tom. Cianfrance’s films are known for their raw intensity of character interactions. He’s been called an “actor’s director” because he is able to create an original intimacy even in predictable situations, like the relationship in Blue Valentine. This makes the overly simplistic beginning to the central romance especially disappointing. Fassbender and Vikander are a real life couple, but their early scenes of courtship (or rather the single scene) feel forced. It’s like the director looked at the actors and said “Be perfect for each other” and started rolling. Isabel’s optimism doesn’t match with Tom’s taciturn demeanor and it’s unclear why either has developed affection. Fortunately, the romance becomes more believable as the two grow closer during the hardships they face.

The gorgeous scenery monopolizes the early parts of the film. Excessive, but beautiful.
The gorgeous scenery monopolizes the early parts of the film. Excessive, but beautiful.

The Sparks comparison extends to the setting and cinematography. The film is set by the ocean with an overabundance of landscape shots. Granted, the visuals are breathtaking. Ocean waves crashing against the shore and lonely sunsets dominate the first half of the movie. While aesthetically stunning, the focus on the backdrops unnecessarily slows down the film’s pace and has the unintended effect of distancing the viewer from the central conflict. The fading light of the sun seems to carry equal importance to Tom and Isabel’s relationship early on, but Cianfrance lacks the ability to imbue meaning into the natural imagery. He is not Terrence Malick.

In the final act the film, Cianfrance finally delivers on the emotional resonance he is known for. Actions have consequences, and the depth of Tom and Isabel’s relationship is shown, not told, as they take steps to protect each other. Here, the professions of love are earned. In some ways, The Light Between Oceans is Cianfrance’s version of a Merchant Ivory film. Romantic, but deliberately old-fashioned with his natural inclinations muted until the end. Still, not many filmmakers working today can match Cianfrance’s ability to draw out an emotional response. The feelings come like waves hitting the rocks of the island, overwhelming and powerful. While the The Light Between Oceans starts out slow, the scenery is enough to carry the film to its piercing final third.

4/5 stars.

Hunt for the Wilderpeople (2016)

Well folks, we finally have an answer to the age old question “is the New Zealand accent inherently funny?” Yes. Yes, it is.

A troubled youth, Ricky Baker (Julian Dennison; Paper Planes), guilty of petty crimes like graffiti, loitering, and spitting, is shuffled from foster home to foster home until he is taken to his last option before juvenile detention. Aunt Bella (Rima Te Wiata; Housebound) is the woman who gladly takes him in and immediately establishes herself as a kind, loving person. She gently supports him even as he tries to escape and awkwardly pokes fun at his weight in a misguided attempt to engage him. For the first time in his life, Ricky has a caring home, but an unfortunate twist of fate puts Aunt Bella out of the picture and leaves him alone with her grumpy, apathetic husband, Uncle Hec (Sam Neill; Jurassic Park). Still, Ricky is happy with his Uncle until child welfare decides that he needs to be taken back. Ricky’s response is to run away into the bush forcing Uncle Hec to follow him. The time they spend in the woods causes them to miss the child welfare pickup date and gets misconstrued as a kidnapping, making Uncle Hec a wanted man and the bulk of the film follows the pair as they hide in the woods trying to avoid the nationwide manhunt.

Ricky’s greatest asset is his cherubic, expressive face. He has a minor criminal record, but even as he gets into trouble and tries to “be gangster”, his chubby cheeks only beam with innocence. No matter what he claims, his age is exposed by his lack of experience. SWAT teams are confused with ninjas and police dogs are mistaken for direwolves. Everything he knows is based on pop culture references so his time in the wild with Uncle Hec allows him to grow and his reactions to realities of bush-life provide a sympathetic audience surrogate. Yet even as he toughens in the wild, his fumbling actions are always humorous and endearing, not aggressive.

Even a small look from Ricky can crack a smile.
Even a small look from Ricky can crack a smile.

The film demonstrates the skills of its director. Taika Waititi’s previous film, What We Do in the Shadows, was a horror comedy about a house of vampires and while the feature proved his talents as an actor and a writer, the Real World-esque structure masked his abilities behind the camera. Here he is able to show off his command of the screen. There are perfectly placed comedic snap zooms as well as a recurring shot involving a revolving camera pan with characters moving in and out of frame to show the passage of time. This concisely moves the plot forward while still producing laughs in a way that few directors are capable of. Waititi’s directorial flourishes add visual excitement to the strong comedic writing.

Underneath the manhunt setup is a deeper message. Each of the main characters is lost in some way. Aunt Bella, Uncle Hec, and Ricky are all orphans and finding acceptance becomes the major theme. Ricky has been rejected by all his previous families and Uncle Hec has never had anyone but Bella. Together they form their own oddball family unit. Ricky writes haikus for Uncle Hec (a method of expression advised by a previous social worker) and as their outlaw status escalates they only grow closer. Hunt for the Wilderpeople is a rare comedy, consistently original and hilarious with a sincere, sentimental core.

4/5 stars.

The Neon Demon (2016)

Coming off the less than stellar reaction to Only God Forgives, Danish director Nicolas Winding Refn (Drive) returns with The Neon Demon, a film about a young woman, Jesse (Elle Fanning; Super 8), who moves to Los Angeles to become a model. She says she isn’t smart, has no real skills, but knows she’s pretty and she can make money off of pretty. The topic makes an interesting change of pace for Refn who has centered most of his films around hard men and criminal underworlds. What is fascinating is how little his portrayal of these seemingly disparate settings varies. He shoots the hyper-competitive field of modeling in the same way he normally frames opposing gangsters. The players are as vicious as they are unscrupulous and when Jesse quickly becomes the “it” girl leaping over established models who have been working towards the same goals for years, we see that these two environments are more similar than we had imagined.

Regular composer, Cliff Martinez, returns with another stellar soundtrack. He again uses a variety of electronic music to set the tone of the film. His pulsing beats provide an effective contrast to Refn’s slow camera movements. They add much needed energy and tension to what could otherwise become a lethargic film. Martinez has also expanded the emotional range of his music. His rhythms immediately create atmospheres of dread, adrenaline, or heightened reality, depending on the scene. Tracks like “Are We Having A Party” quickly set the tone of events to come. His score combined with Refn’s images make the film an audiovisual treat.

The setting is ripe for Refn's stunning imagery.
The setting is ripe for Refn’s stunning imagery.

Refn exploits the world of high fashion for his own visual sensibilities. The signature cinematography from Only God Forgives is further intensified here. The images look ripped out of an avant-garde art gallery with stark backgrounds and characters drenched in high contrast lighting. He adds depth to these images by examining the potentially abusive nature of their creation. These young women, Jesse is underage but is told by her agent to say she is older, are at the whim of older men who Refn rightfully indicts as predatory. Other models repeat that the quickest way to get ahead is often to give in to the sexual desires of these gatekeepers. The only flaw to the director’s analysis of these men is that he doesn’t acknowledge that he too may be in a similar relationship with his actresses. Fortunately, none of the sumptuous imagery, even when it becomes explicit, feels like it is shot with a leery eye.

The threat of violence and its attachment to beauty is present throughout the film. The opening shot tracks in slowly on a motionless Jesse, made-up and wearing a shining dress, with a stream of blood dripping from her neck setting an ominous tone for the story that follows. Characters rarely use dialogue with a natural back and forth. Instead, they spout sentences with long pauses between responses, creating a dream-like quality. This serves to make otherwise standard interactions appear foreign and forces critical analysis of what we accept as normal and why, similar to the way David Lynch often directs his actors.

The unintended effect of this delayed cadence is that it also distances the viewer from the story. While the plot is much simpler than his previous film, the characters again aren’t empathetic because they don’t seem human. Jesse begins the film with some understandable naivete but then quickly assumes the same cold demeanor of her peers, making even the audience vessel unrelatable. This reduces the impact of the film’s climax. While the images are still unsettling, it’s the literal actions that shock more than their implications. Without developing strong investment in the characters, The Neon Demon is a series of visually arresting, but emotionally lacking, images with a superb electronic score.

3/5 stars.

The Fits (2016)

Anna Rose Holmer’s directorial debut, The Fits, is a look into a young girl entering a new social group. Toni (Royalty Hightower) is an 11 year old girl who trains with her older brother’s boxing team at the local community center. In another wing of the building, there is a successful dance team filled with girls her age. To Toni, the dance team occupies a different world and she is curious. After some coaxing from her brother, she tries out and joins the group. The film explores her gradual assimilation in the face of a sickness that begins soon after she joins.

Holmer does a great job of portraying Toni’s outsider status. Even as the other girls are fairly welcoming, the distancing effect created by repeated shots with only Toni in focus show how foreign this new world is to her. She has only experienced the social dynamics of her brother’s friends and doesn’t know what to do when faced with the gossip, nail painting, and ear piercing of the girls dance team. Hightower’s stoic but wide-eyed stare convey her genuine confusion at the accepted customs of her team members. Her performance successfully balances her unfamiliarity while still charming through flashes of her youthful naivete.

The natural performances ground the film's plot.
The natural performances ground the film’s plot.

The film attempts to create tension using techniques most commonly seen in the horror genre. Holmer dials into the slow tracking shots, the muffled chatter, and the high pitched audio feedback found in a James Wan film. While these techniques establish a creepy atmosphere, the film isn’t able to build tension over time because of how the fits are depicted. Despite being the supposed center of the story, the fits themselves feel like background events. Toni’s detachment from the other girls prevents these episodes from feeling like credible dangers. Even as other characters begin to fear for their safety, Toni is never worried and this complacence extends to the audience. We too have little interest in the symptoms, effectively preventing any true fear from being created because we can’t be afraid of something that isn’t important.

Toni’s alienation and desire for acceptance into this new group mirrors the spread of the fits. The leaders of the dance team are the first to contract the issue and it slowly works its way down the food chain. The fits become an initiation rite as the kids start to divide themselves based on whether or not they have experienced them. The metaphorical implications of the fits during an exploration of gender roles alone would have made a compelling narrative, but the adherence to horror trappings without being able to produce the desired dread create a promising film with divergent goals that never reach fruition.

3/5 stars.