2019, Recent Reviews, Reviews

Parasite (2019): High-class Infiltration

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With his first film to be made fully in Korea in a decade, director Bong Joon-ho has created his best work since Memories of Murder. Parasite is the story of a poor family living in a basement apartment . The father (Song Kang-ho) was a driver but, like the rest of his family, is unemployed and barely scraping by. The son gets an offer from his friend to substitute as an English tutor for a rich girl, despite his lack of a college education, and enters into a completely different world. Using the English name “Kevin”, he meets the Parks, an affluent family that pays him a sum that is inconsequential to them, but life-changing for him.

The film begins as a comedic con movie. Kevin (Choi Woo-sik; Okja) tricks his way into the wealthy household on his friend’s recommendation, but the film becomes increasingly ridiculous as he, and each subsequent member of his family, devise ways to get their loved ones a job, even if that job is already taken. They set up elaborate schemes to put the existing staff out of work that, while unfair to the innocent employees, are hilarious in their audacity. The rich mom appears kind, but gullible, or “simple” as Kevin’s friend puts it, and falls for their innocuous line of recommendations. Slowly, the entire Kim family becomes employed by the Park family and their clumsy attempts to hide their relationships become a great comedy of errors.

The poor Kim family does odd jobs like folding pizza boxes just to survive.

Without spoiling anything, their deception escalates with unforeseen consequences. This is where the plot thickens and the film’s themes begin to show themselves. While the Parks seem kind and welcoming at first, the disparity between their lives and the lives of the Kim family comes into focus. During a heavy rainfall, the Park family, in their walled off home above the city streets, are largely unaffected, with their son even camping outside during the storm. The Kims however live in a partially underground apartment. The rain leads to their home being flooded to chest-high levels of sewage water, drastically impacting their lives in a way the Parks are not even aware of. In the subtle way they treat their employees, the Parks show their aversion towards the Kims and their lower class life, gradually changing how the Kims, and the audience, view them. The Parks may be the victim of deception, but their attitudes create a moral gray area.

Bong is known for his skillful blending of genres and tones, but Parasite is remarkable even by his high standards. The film works on so many levels. It’s a thriller, a farcical comedy, and a commentary on class, all without conflicting tones or sacrificing the strength of one genre for the other. As the film dives into unexpected territories, it feel completely controlled and reaches surprising levels of emotional significance. Bong uses the film to comment on class privilege, but also the sacrifices and glass ceilings of the lower classes. He shows what the poor must struggle through, what they dream of, and what their realities are without completely absolving them of blame. He isn’t afraid of showing multiple perspectives. Parasite is masterful blend of genres and a tonal juggling act featuring a complex look at wealth disparity in modern society.

five stars

5/5 stars.

2019, Recent Reviews, Reviews

Wounds (2019): Bland Thriller

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After an incredible debut with Under the Shadow, writer-director Babak Anvari’s second feature can only be considered a disappointment. Based on the novella The Visible Filth by Nathan Ballingrud, the story follows Will (Armie Hammer; The Lone Ranger), a bartender in Louisiana, that leads a steady, but happily aimless life drinking heavily and enjoying himself. After breaking up a bar fight, he picks up a cell phone left by some college students and accidentally takes it home. He finds some alarming text messages asking for help and, believing it to be a prank, tells them to come back to the bar to pick up the phone. Soon the texts become dangerous and he discovers horrifying pictures and videos of body parts and what appears to be torture. He decides to give the phone to local police officers that frequent his bar, but the pull of the phone and its transgressive material begins to seep into his life.

Hammer continues to be an actor that looks the part of the leading man, almost to a ridiculous degree, but doesn’t have the acting talent to match. His deep voice lacks nuance in his delivery and his attempts at inflections during dramatic moments feel forced and stilted. He struggles to emote with his monotone diction and doesn’t have enough material to support him. Will, as a character, is mostly hollow. Some of this is in keeping with the themes of the story, but it doesn’t make him an engaging presence. He is never given enough background or motivation to add depth to his character and the supporting cast is similarly vacant.

Hammer can’t display the level of emotion required for the role.

While Anvari’s first film was a demonstration of complete directorial control, Wounds is lackluster. The film never maintains any level of sustained tension and struggles to even produce fleeting moments of suspense. Under the Shadow featured many scenes of poised camerawork that was fraught with impending peril as well as creative compositions, but none of that skill is present here. The majority of the film is shot with fairly standard blocking, sorely missing any personal style. There are a few jump scares, but they appear randomly and too briefly to have any effect. Worst of all, they have no relation to the story. For example, a close-up of a loud, dusty air conditioning unit is spliced in between two random scenes as a jump scare, but it only produces confusion. Decisions like this raise questions about the director’s judgement and vision in creating the film.

Some of the poor results can be blamed on the source material. The Visible Filth is an intriguing story, but one that may not have been a good fit for the big screen. Moments of tension created by unknown, potentially sinister text messages and voicemails work well on the page, but in cinematic form this becomes images of adults looking at their phones which doesn’t carry the same level of dread. This failed translation is especially harmful in the film’s conclusion. It resolves little for those who held on hoping for a worthwhile reveal for the story’s struggling mystery. The ending, while true to the source material, is so bland visually that Anvari resorts to mediocre computer generated effects to obscure the screen and hide its banality. Wounds isn’t an offensively bad film, but it is a bland and forgettable one which, given its pedigree, makes it profoundly disappointing.

2/5 stars.

2019, Recent Reviews, Reviews

Pain and Glory (2019): Late-life Autofiction

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With a filmography that spans almost  40 years and numerous genres, it could be said the Pedro Almodóvar (Talk to Her) is approaching the end of his career, but instead of retiring he has created a film that explores this very topic. Salvador (Antonio Banderas; The Mask of Zorro) is a famous director who has recently retired from filmmaking, citing his poor health. He decides to reconcile with the lead actor from an early film to appear together at a special screening and begins to recollect his childhood and the parts of his life that have shaped the man he is today as well as his life’s work.

As the director’s alter ego, Banderas is incredible. He sports a mostly-white beard and a tussled hairstyle mimicking Almodóvar’s own look, but his mood is his most striking feature. Banderas, now approaching  60, is no longer a young man, but in Pain and Glory he is weary beyond his years. He lists his various ailments that have left him unable to direct a feature and barely able to leave the house and it seems as if his life is coming to an end. He states that he doesn’t know what to do if he isn’t filming, but at the same time behaves as if he is a spent firework, lacking the necessary fuel to maintain a flame. Banderas brings an incredible restraint to his performance. Salvador tells his actor friend that actors shouldn’t cry and should instead be on the verge, fighting back the tears and he follows his own advice. When Salvador meets a former lover, the joy he feels from the reunion as well as the pain from knowing it will be short-lived are apparent in his watering eyes. The subtlety of Banderas’s performance adds integrity and humility to the material as Salvador is shown as a flawed and frail figure, grappling with his own existence.

Banderas displays complex emotions with ease.

Like most of Almodóvar’s work, Pain and Glory is filled with the bright hues of pop art. Salvador’s condo looks like it could be a museum with its vibrant decorations. His kitchen cabinets are bright red with contrasting teal tilework and most of the modern portion of the film shares this colorful palette, making even simple framings burst with style.

The beauty of this film is how its obscure subject matter becomes immensely relatable. As a personal memoir, it had the potential to become self-indulgent as Salvador’s mother tells him “I hate autofiction!”, but Pain and Glory never feels that way. Salvador’s unusual upbringing, living in an underground home in a small village or his immense success as a film director in his adult life are not experiences most people will relate to, but the emotions on display are so vivid that is impossible to not lose yourself within them. Each memory feels authentic, almost revelatory, as Salvador tries to understand himself through recollecting his childhood and it becomes clear that not only is this film part memoir, so is the majority of Almodóvar’s filmography. With Pain and Glory, Almodóvar has taken the deeply personal and transformed it into emotions that are universal, resulting in one of the most nuanced, and intensely felt films of his career.

4/5 stars.

2019, Recent Reviews, Reviews

Ad Astra (2019): Outer Space, Inner Self

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Ad Astra is an original sci-fi title from indie filmmaker James Gray (The Lost City of Z) and one of the quietest studio films in years. In the near future, Roy McBride (Brad Pitt; The Tree of Life), a decorated astronaut, is called in for a classified mission. His father Clifford (Tommy Lee Jones; No Country for Old Men), a hero and space pioneer, was sent on a decades long mission to Neptune that went missing years ago. The government now believes that he may still be alive and that his ship may have something to do with the dangerous power surges wreaking havoc on Earth. They hope that Roy, as Clifford’s son, can contact him.

Gray’s depiction of space is merciless and worn. At this point in time, bases have been established on the moon and on Mars with even commercial travel available. These environments are nothing new and have lost their sense of wonder. They aren’t quite the grimy settings of Blade Runner, but space travel has become as mundane as an airplane trip and bases on the moon look like run down subway stations. Roy remarks that humans have created the very things they ran away from when leaving Earth. The main difference from life on Earth and life in space is the inherent danger it carries. The slightest mistake could lead to death in the harsh, unforgiving setting. The moon has unpatrolled areas, where travelers are at risk of attack, and the power surges mean spacecraft could malfunction at any time. It makes the film’s vision of the future both pragmatic and precarious.

This danger is further shown in the film’s setpieces. On Earth, on other planets, and in space, Ad Astra is not above thrilling its audience. Gray, a director not previously known for his action skills, stages each scene with intensity. Where other films like Gravity repeated similar scenarios to the point of diminishing returns, Ad Astra uses completely different perspectives for each climactic event. The action scenes feel original and perilous. Even when it’s clear something is about to go wrong, Gray does so with a completely shocking and unexpected danger that keep the sequence as fresh as it is deadly.

Pitt delivers a multilayerd, complex performance.

The majority of the film relies on Pitt’s performance and he is more than suited to the task. Pitt’s face dominates the screen and is a complex painting of emotion. He is at once calm and professional while still communicating the anxieties he hides underneath. Despite Roy’s incredible talents and feats across so many areas, he isn’t cocky. Pitt makes him a dutiful soldier, committed to his task above all else, including his own feelings. Within his always capable demeanor is sadness. There is an air of despair beneath Pitt’s performance and he tows the line between a firm external appearance and internal struggle in a way that would make Ryan Gosling jealous.

The film has a surprising amount of voiceover from Pitt that is used to contrast his inner feelings with his image. While it does provide needed insight into Roy’s state of mind, Gray is overreliant on this technique. The sheer amount of narration is intrusive and it prevents the audience from drawing their own conclusions as the narration loudly and frequently tells instead of letting the film’s visuals show Roy’s emotions.

While the title and plot may imply an outward focus, Gray’s interests are internal. On the outside, Roy is the ideal soldier. Characters comment on his unbreakable composure stating that he has never been recorded with a pulse over 80 beats per minute, even when his life was in danger. He is constantly facing psych evaluations, all of which point to a single desired ideal: cold, unfeeling stoicism. The ideal space explorer shows and feels no emotion and, on the surface, Roy meets this criteria, but he can’t reconcile these so-called virtues with his emotions. He still feels anxiety, still misses his father, still misses his wife, but is forced to compartmentalize these thoughts and numb himself to fit into the desired mold. Gray uses the film’s deliberate pace to linger on Pitt’s expressions and force the audience to evaluate them beyond his initial impression. The film becomes an exploration of how the ideal of a stalwart hero manifests in real life and the consequences and conflict it creates in those who strive for it. As Roy’s voyage continues, we see him grapple with these unattainable goals and Pitt’s inner turmoil is deeply moving, despite the overuse of voiceovers. With Ad Astra, Gray has created a thrilling, contemplative, and emotional outer space voyage to explore the inner self.

4/5 stars.

2019, Recent Reviews, Reviews

Tigers Are Not Afraid (2019): Drug War Fairy Tale

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Tigers Are Not Afraid is the story of children caught in a world of violence. In an unnamed Mexican city, Estrella (Paola Lara), a young girl, returns home to find her mother missing. She lives in a area infested with drug-related crime and it’s implied that her mother was one of many abducted by gangs for human trafficking. She soon encounters a group of boys close to her age and follows them. Their leader, Shine (Juan Ramón López), has stolen a valuable item and reluctantly lets Estrella join their party as they flee a local drug lord.

Director Issa Lopez doesn’t shy away from the violence of the setting and anyone is a potential victim. The film opens with children hiding under their desks as gunfire erupts outside and it becomes clear that this is a frequent occurence. As Estrella waits at home, alone without her mom, we see her neighbors pack up and leave. The city becomes an abandoned, graffiti-ridden wasteland ruled by crime lords with little sympathy for the victims, even children. Lopez maintains the danger throughout the runtime with frequent deaths and a feeling of hopelessness. It doesn’t appear anyone has the ability, and potentially even the desire, to help the kids get to safety.

The city is a dilapidated ghost town.

The film falls into the category of magical realism. In the vein of Pan’s Labyrinth and last year’s Sicilian Ghost Story, it takes a horrific setting, cities ravaged by drug wars, and tells it from a child’s perspective. The boys, seeing the behavior of men and teenagers, try to act tough as their own gang. Shine repeats that Estrella isn’t strong enough to be with them, but it becomes immediately clear that he is only a boy with little real experience. The child’s viewpoint allows for small moments of joy in the difficult situation. Finding a soccer ball is enough cause to celebrate as the kids are able to momentarily forget about their situation. Despite their grim situation, they still have childish impulses.

Lopez uses elements of magical realism to guide the narrative and contextualize the events onscreen. Before any scene of violence, a trail of blood, moving in unnaturally perfect straight lines, enters the room. It’s a simple visual effect, but it carries a foreboding presence as it warns of what could possibly happen next. In the opening scene, Estrella is given three pieces of chalk by her teacher who tells her that each will grant her a wish. These wishes are then used as inflection points in the story. Each wish marks a major event that radically changes their journey. These wishes provide some solace to Estrella and give her young mind a way to understand the occurrences around her, but, for the audience, the wishes are moments of suspense where anything, good or bad, can happen.

Tigers Are Not Afraid becomes a visceral fairy tale. Its ending is a bit hokey, but the desperation the children feel is palpable and the way they make sense of the unjustifiable cruelty that surrounds them is authentic. Lopez shoots the horror of drug cartels through a child’s eye with a convincing vision of how young minds endure in a world without hope.

4/5 stars.

2019, Recent Reviews, Reviews

Honeyland (2019): A Tragic and Humble Life

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In a rural area in North Macedonia, a woman, Hatidze, leads a simple life harvesting honey and living with her elderly mother. Her routine is disturbed when a family moves into one of the empty homes next door. Her previously quiet existence is eradicated by the many loud children and arguing mother and father. Directors Tamara Kotevska and Ljubomir Stefanov take this obscure topic and turn it into a emotional portrait of a woman’s life.

Honeyland is filmed in pure cinema verité. The camera is entirely observational, eschewing the talking heads that dominate most of modern documentary films. There are no sidebar interviews, no archival footage, and no narration to structure the film. Instead, the camera carefully watches as Hatidze’s life changes. The lack of artifice lends authenticity the film’s story. While there is a clear conflict driving the plot, it never feels contrived.

The film takes advantage of the beautiful Macedonian countryside. Hatidze lives far from any city and much of the screentime is her roaming the rocky hills as she gathers her honey. The filmmakers often shoot her in silhouette, like the lone hero of a western, as she goes on her walks. They make heavy use of the titular honey’s color palette. The color grading favors golden hues of sunlight and the glistening yellows of Hatidze’s crop.

Hatidze’s friendship with one of the boys is both sweet and sad in the truth it reveals.

Despite its limited scope, Honeyland touches on many issues. It’s unclear how the filmmakers arrived at Hatidze as subject for a documentary, but her life raises many questions. She is in her early fifties but lives only with her octogenarian mother who is mostly bedridden. There is untold history in every wrinkle in her skin and her mother’s withered hands. As she bonds with one particular neighbor boy who sees things from her perspective, he asks the unspoken question “Why do you live here?” She has no power, no running water, and little in the way of companionship outside of her mother and some pets. The answer, delivered by Hatidze and the film itself, is quietly heartbreaking. Not because of a calamitous event, but because of the banality of the sequence that led to her current life.

The film’s other theme is sustainability and capitalism. Hatidze is careful to harvest a limited quantity of honey from her hives, mitigating the damage to the colonies. She doesn’t need or want much to provide for her mom and herself, but her neighbors have a different approach. They bring in several crates to house new beehives, as opposed to Hatidze’s natural hives in rock formations, and are pressured by a local merchant to produce a large quantity, despite the potentially destructive effects to not only their bees but also to Hatidze’s. Unlike her, they have a large family and the father wants to provide for them. This too has a tragic element. It’s a microcosm of how the desires of modern life and the requirements of capitalism can favor short term gains at the expense of long term prospects.

Documentaries like this succeed or fail on their subjects and Hatidze’s story has more layers than could ever be expected. Her modest living, the impact of her new neighbors, and the filmmakers’ commitment to an unobtrusive vision make Honeyland a compelling look at a tragic and humble life.

4/5 stars.

2019, Recent Reviews, Reviews

The Peanut Butter Falcon (2019): Heartwarming Adventure

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With dreams of becoming the next great professional wrestler, Zak (Zach Gottsagen), a 22-year old man with Down syndrome, escapes the retirement home he lives in to make his way to Florida and join a wrestling school. He is pursued by Eleanor (Dakota Johnson; Suspiria), his friend and caretaker from the home. Along the way he befriends Tyler (Shia LaBeouf; Transformers) who lets him tag along as he runs away from his own pursuers.

Set in the coastal areas of North Carolina, the film has some beautiful views. Directors Tyler Nilson and Michael Schwartz favor the yellow-greens of the wet setting when outdoors without postcard-style imagery. They make an effort to show how grimy life in that area can be. Most of the characters are poor, houses are broken down, and everyone seems to be dirty and sweaty. LaBeouf looks like he hasn’t showered for days and it makes the characters and setting believable.

With his straightforward delivery, Zak is an immediately likable protagonist. Zak is smart, resourceful, and determined. The subterfuge in his attempts to escape the retirement home are hilarious as he earns the help of his fellow patients though bartering pudding for a diversion. He brings honesty and innocence to the screen. He responses carry no pretense or ulterior motive and Gottsagen’s acting feels completely in the moment as Zak authentically reacts to the characters around him. His goal of reaching the wrestling camp, while ridiculous, is so earnest that it makes him and his pursuit sympathetic. Despite this being his first major role, Gottsagen is able to handle himself alongside experienced actors like Bruce Dern (Nebraska) as he deftly handles both dramatic and silly scenes.

Zak and Tyler grow into a sweet brotherly bond.

The friendship between Zak and Tyler is what drives the film. LaBeouf has a reputation both on an off camera, but his performance here contrasts nicely with Gottsagen. Tyler is trying to be a lone wolf as he flees his pursuers, but, after witnessing Zak’s sincerity, he becomes the perfect contrast. He encourages Zak and makes Zak’s goals his own. The same is true for Eleanor. She is more pragmatic as she wants to bring Zak back home to safety, but she also recognizes how much wrestling means to him and is willing to take risks just to make him happy. As cliché as it may seem, Tyler and Eleanor become Zak’s surrogate family and the care they show Zak is heartwarming without being saccharine.

The film focuses on themes of family and self-acceptance. When Zak and Tyler start their journey, Zak has negative opinions about his own abilities. He assumes he has to be the villain in wrestling because he has Down syndrome until Tyler explains otherwise. It’s nothing new for a film to promote self-acceptance, but the tangible changes to Zak’s perception of himself are enough to soften the familiarity. Showing, not telling, how even small bits of encouragement can drastically change someone’s beliefs is the film’s greatest accomplishment. Nilson and Schwartz have made a heartwarming adventure with an unlikely, but lovable hero.

4/5 stars.

2019, Recent Reviews, Reviews

The Nightingale (2019): Unflinching, Unhurried Revenge Story

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After her promising debut with The Babadook, Australian director Jennifer Kent has stayed close to home with her sophomore effort. The Nightingale takes place during the Black War period in the early 1800s on Tasmania. The British have entered the area and used it as a penal colony. Clare (Aisling Franciosi; The Fall), a convict, works a servant for the British Army and lives with her husband, also a convict, and their baby. She is tormented by Lieutenant Hawkins (Sam Claiflin; My Cousin Rachel), the local ranking officer, who makes unwanted advances towards her. When she asks for a approval letter that would allow her and her family to move, he brutally assaults her. A further act of violence is committed shortly after and it leaves Clare with nothing on her mind but revenge.

There will be complaints about the heinous acts on display. Clare is victimized and Kent does not shy away from depicting her suffering. In the film’s most uncomfortable scene, Kent places the camera, and the viewers, directly in Clare’s perspective. In this shot, the image shows nothing, but says everything. The camera only jostles as Clare’s pain and powerlessness is passed directly onto the audience with unsettling efficacy. These scenes, and there are multiple, are cruel, but necessary for the plot and character development.

Franciosi gives Claire a single-minded need for retribution.

The plight of the natives is also a major topic for the film. As Clare seeks to find and punish Hawkins and his cronies, she enlists the help of an Aboriginal tracker, Billy (Baykali Ganambarr), to help her navigate the wilderness. Clare’s prejudice, and that of her fellow colonists, is immediately apparent. They talk about the Aboriginal people as wild, treacherous animals that Clare cannot trust or be left alone with for her own safety. Early on, she only refers to Billy as “Boy” and walks behind him with a rifle pointed at his back. Her condescending tone and blatant racism is difficult to process after the sympathy she has gained from her suffering. It becomes clear that as terribly as Clare has been treated, the native people of Tasmania had it much worse. Gradually, Clare and Billy learn of each other’s tragic pasts and become allies. Billy risks himself to prevent Clare from being harmed and Clare uses her position of trust as a white woman to get Billy past trigger-happy colonists, but the savagery and debasement of the Aboriginals is still a pervasive presence.

It is Kent’s uncompromising approach that carries the film. The slower pacing and unyielding camera lend weight to the actions onscreen. She creates a sense of shared suffering in the victimized characters and in the audience. This also serves to create an entirely despicable villain. Hawkins is unrepentant for his behavior and abuses everyone around him with extreme entitlement. Kent spends more than enough screen time establishing the horrendous nature of his character which makes Clare’s dangerous and likely unsuccessful path to finding him necessary. With her focus on the harsh realities faced by the women and natives of Tasmania, Kent has created an unflinching and unhurried revenge story.

4/5 stars.

2019, Recent Reviews, Reviews

Ready or Not (2019): Playful and Bloody Kill Scenes

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Meeting your in-laws right before your wedding can be a stressful experience. Will they accept you as part of their family or will things start off on the wrong foot? In the case of Grace (Samara Weaving; Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri), assimilation is a dangerous task. She is marrying into the Le Domas family, a wealthy lineage that made their fortune on selling board games and playing cards. She learns from her fiancé about a tradition that anyone joining the family needs to draw a card at midnight and play whatever game they draw. Grace picks hide and seek and runs off to find a spot. Unbeknownst to her, she has drawn the wrong card. The family grabs antique weaponry for a life or death game. They believe that their ancestor made a deal with a mysterious man that has granted them their extreme wealth and that they will lose everything, including their lives, if they don’t kill Grace before sunrise.

Fittingly, Ready or Not has a playful tone. When characters are killed, it is often in slapstick fashion. Some family members use crossbows to hunt Grace and the limitations of the weapons and the family’s inability to properly use them leads to accidental deaths of their house staff. The deaths, while bloody, are comedic as characters argue with each other instead of reacting to a nanny getting half her head blown off. Melanie Scrofano (Pure Pwnage) is hilarious as Grace’s incompetent, drug-addicted sister-in-law. She alternates between cocaine and sedatives as she tries to get in the right state of mind to find and kill Grace, but fumbles every opportunity. Her earnest frustration with herself keeps the situations light and distracts from the gruesome deaths.

The family dynamics turn the film into a horror-comedy.

The film takes place in a gargantuan, Gothic style mansion that is the perfect environment for hide and seek. There are several floors, dozens of rooms, secret “servant hallways”, and a large surrounding estate. The castle-like structure is replete with hiding spots, but also unfamiliar to Grace as she opens doors without knowing where they lead. It provides ample tension since a gun-toting in-law may be just around the corner, but also relieves that same tension when the family stops to strategize only for Grace to mistakenly walk right in front of them.

As the unfortunate player, Weaving is sympathetic. Her horror and confusion as she witnesses the first accidental kill and realizes the stakes of her situation are relatable, but it is her turn from prey to predator that makes the film. Weaving, who looks like she could be Margot Robbie’s younger sister, quickly swaps her high heels for sneakers and tears her long wedding dress so she can effectively creep around the house. She morphs from the victim to a threat to her attackers as she stops hiding and starts hunting. There could be a metaphor here about the behavior of the ultra-rich and the horrific lengths they are willing to go to preserve their status, but directors Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett (V/H/S) have little interest in deeper meanings. Instead, Ready or Not is a fun excuse for kill scenes that are as bloody as they are playful.

3/5 stars.

2019, Recent Reviews, Reviews

Blinded by the Light (2019): Dreams and The Boss

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In a small, working-class town in England, a boy discovers the music that will change his entire world. Javed (Viveik Kalra; Beecham House) is a 16 year old that writes poems in his diary and is told by his immigrant parents to study to become a doctor, lawyer, or estate agent. His goals in life change when a friend introduces him to the music of Bruce Springsteen. This is the late 80s when Bruce is no longer popular with the synth pop-loving teenagers, but his lyrics about blue-collar life strike a chord with Javed and inspire him to pursue his love of writing.

To Javed, Bruce’s music doesn’t just sound great, it’s a revelation. No scene communicates this better than when Javed inadvertently serenades a girl from his class. While working at a clothing shop, he turns on his Walkman and notices the girl from his class he likes in the distance. He stares at her and starts singing along to the Springsteen song as he slowly walks towards her, transfixed and seemingly unaware of his very public display of affection. What follows is a disarmingly sweet explosion of emotion as Javed continues to sing and others join in and start dancing. The music, like his first love, is an overwhelming torrent of feeling that he carries him forward. That director Gurinder Chadha (Bend It Like Beckham) can take a trite act like singing to someone and turn it into an act of pure, uninhibited passion is a testament to her strengths as a director and the deeply affecting link between Javed and the music.

The swirling lyrics that accompany the music are a nice addition, especially for those unfamiliar with Springsteen’s music.

Despite her background in narrative filmmaking, Chadha pulls from prominent music video techniques. When Javed first hears Bruce’s music, there are lyrics onscreen that float around his head, emphasizing his connection to the meaning behind the songs, not just an appreciation for their sound. As Javed listens, Chadha uses projections of images and lyrics onto building walls to show his total immersion in the music. It’s not an original visual, but it is effective as Javed touches words on the walls in earnest kinship.

Most of Javed’s story is predictable, but the sincerity of it all is enough to distract from its familiarity. It’s again the story of traditional parents with a child that wants to do something outside the norm, therein creating a rift in his family. Javed’s dad is stern, prescriptive, Javed says “In my house, only my dad is allowed to have an opinion.”, and disapproves of his music and writing. Javed instead finds support from his English teacher at school who encourages him to express his voice. At first, it seems like he is going to be obnoxious with how overeager he is, but that fear quickly dissipates with his charm. He and his friend love Bruce Springsteen to such an exorbitant degree that it’s impossible not to enjoy watching characters so genuinely passionate about something. Blinded by the Light tells a conventional narrative, but does so with enough unrestrained emotion and engrossing idealism to make Springsteen himself proud.

4/5 stars.