I have something of a tradition with John Carpenter’s The Fog. Every year, I try to watch the film on the date and time where the story starts – April 20th, at around 11:55pm. It’s not the scariest of stories, but it does have a spooky atmosphere that lends itself well to Halloween – or any late quiet night. I love this movie.
The Fog marked the first film that John Carpenter worked on after Halloween, collaborating with the late Debra Hill, who also produced the movie. She’d go on to also produce both Escape From New York and Escape from L.A for Carpenter. While it didn’t really have the impact of Halloween, it held up until Escape from New York came out the following year.
Here’s the story:
In the town of Antonio Bay, an old captain (John Houseman) explains to some children about the ill-fated Elizabeth Dane (what a beautiful name, I might add), a ship that belonged a rich of crew of lepers led by someone named Blake. The heads of the town conspired to steal the gold by setting up the ship to crash against the docks. It works out for the Conspirators, as they are “aided by a unearthy fog” that blinds the Leper ship’s navigators. and the gold they collect helps to form the great town the kids play in to this day.
What they don’t realize is that vengeance is coming in the form of that very same fog, as the ghost of the Lepers have come to claim the lives of the six conspirators…or their direct descendants.
As a kid, I had a problem with that. You mean because my great great grandparents messed up somewhere ages ago, I have to get killed for it? I remember thinking that it really wasn’t fair, but I’m kind of diverging from the topic here. The story gives you four points of view. You have Nick (Tom Atkins, sans his signature mustache) and a hitchhiker he picks up played by then scream queen Jamie Lee Curtis. You have Curtis mother, Janet Leigh, who’s character is working on the anniversary party for the town and her assistant, Sandy, played by Nancy Loomis (who appeared in the first three Halloween films). The third comes from Adrienne Barbeau’s character, Stevie Wayne, who works for the local radio station. Her character acts as the warning voice for the town and she starts to notice that something’s going on when her son gives her a piece of Driftwood that later echoes Blake’s warning. The final viewpoint comes from Father Malone (Hal Holbrook), who discovers Blake’s diary and learns the truth about what happened 100 years ago. His character helps to piece the mystery together, somewhat.
Carpenter and Hill gathered many of their friends, who went on to work on other films for this. Tommy Lee Wallace went on to direct Halloween III: Season of the Witch (and coincidentally did the voice of the Silver Shamrock ad-man in the commercial) and Vampires: Los Muertos. Wallace’s name was given to Carpenter fan favorite Buck Flower. Nick Castle’s name was given to Tom Atkins character. Makeup Wizard Rob Bottin (who also played Blake in the film) went on to do some of the effects in The Thing.
The makeup effects in this film were okay. The lighting and fog did more to obscure than to actually help one see what was doing the attacking, but it really worked for some of the shadowing in the film. If the movie has any drawbacks, it’s that there’s a really low body count to the film. In essence, there are only 6 people the ghosts are after, so these are only the ones they actually get. It would have been interesting if there were a few random deaths, or more individuals in danger, but I supposed it worked out well for the time period.
The Fog is a nice film to catch late at night. You won’t find it at the upper rankings of top horror films, but it’s one to try, at least. Don’t even bother with the Remake for this one. It’s not even work talking about.
This is the worst review I’ll ever write. I’ll admit to that up front. This is a highly biased review.
I recently underwent a colonoscopy for what doctors refer to as “excessive bleeding”, which your body isn’t really supposed to do. Part of this also involves a biopsy of tissue to determine if it’s cancerous. I’m still due to find out what was found (because I’ve been dancing around going back as much as I have writing this review), but there’s a sense of dread in knowing that your life can change with just a few sentences from a doctor. That, coupled with the knowledge that my mom underwent chemo for Lung Cancer and a friend who’s also living with it made 50/50 a hard film to sit through at some points.
I saw the movie on Friday Night, and literally spent the entire weekend with my laptop on my lap with Scrivener open, trying to get this written. The only reason it’s happening now is because I started admitting why I didn’t and wrote a paragraph. If I stop now, this is going to be another Sucker Punch, a film I was going to review when it came out, but refrained from doing so because it hit a little too close to home.
I walked into 50/50 expecting a heavy handed story along the lines of either the last half of Beaches or My Life with Michael Keaton. After all, the story deals with Cancer, which we all know is very serious. I actually left the film glancing at the movie schedule, looking to find out how soon the next showing was. It was a little later than I hoped, so I headed home. If it were any earlier, I would have gone right back. I laughed so much that I might have scared a few of the people sitting in the back of the theatre, and was thankful for the extra tissues I took with me when I cried.
Based on a true story of the film’s writer, Will Reiser, 50/50 is the story of Adam Lerner (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), who goes through life making all the right choices. He eats right, jogs regularly and crosses when the walk sign is clear. He loves his girlfriend (played by Bryce Dallas Howard), and his best friend Kyle (played by Seth Rogen) helps him laugh through it all. After experiencing some pain in his back, he heads to the doctor, only to discover that he has developed a rare form of Cancer. The actual moment of awareness when he’s told is done so well that I had to bite my lip. Once you know the truth of things, you can’t return to a state where you “don’t” know, and I’ll admit that shook me.
The greatest part I loved about 50/50 was that it was more a story about the Support Groups that keep us afloat than it was about the problem of the illness itself. There are just some things in the world that you shouldn’t go through alone. Each person in Adam’s circle had a different reaction to what was occurring, but Seth Rogen’s character was by far the best, choosing to not allow Adam to wallow too much in what was happening to him.
Adam is assigned a therapist in the form of Kate McKay (Anna Kendrick), who tries to get him to relax and explain how he’s feeling, to which in most cases, he’d say “I’m fine.” It’s amazing how quickly and easily we can say that phrase to deflect every other emotion we may be feeling, and the writing in this film was good enough to play on that angle as well. His mother (Angelica Houston) wants to help her son a little too much, but Mothers can be that way, I suppose.
Just because this happens to be a story about illness doesn’t mean that it has to be non stop gloom and doom. There were a number of scenes that were laugh out loud funny, particularly those with Rogen. It’s Gordon-Levitt, however, who really carries the film. He does a great job here, and it’s a shame with the weekend over that it seems the film won’t overshadow either The Lion King or A Dolphin’s Tale. It would be interesting if the film has enough legs to last over the next few weeks. It definitely deserves a viewing.
Werewolf horror films have not enjoyed the same prolific output as zombie or vampire cinema in recent decades. While the undead and bloodsuckers dominate both mainstream and indie horror, lycanthropes remain relatively underrepresented. In the last ten to fifteen years, the number of truly memorable werewolf films is small enough to count on one hand, suggesting that the subgenre is persistently niche despite the creature’s long-standing place in horror folklore. This scarcity makes standout entries even more notable, and among those, two titles remain touchstones for modern audiences: Neil Marshall’s gritty low-budget Dog Soldiers (2002) and the Canadian cult classic Ginger Snaps (2000), which preceded Marshall’s work by two years.
Ginger Snaps is as much a coming-of-age drama as it is a horror film, weaving werewolf mythology into a biting exploration of adolescence, sisterhood, and female identity. Set in a seemingly quiet Canadian suburb, the story follows sisters Ginger and Brigitte Fitzgerald, misfits bound by their shared cynicism, morbid sense of humor, and disdain for high school conformity. Isolated from their peers, they find comfort in their own dark, goth-influenced world, preferring late-night cemetery photography to pep rallies or social gatherings. Their bond is strong, but it faces a severe test one fateful night.
While walking home together, the sisters encounter something in the darkness—an unseen, feral creature that lunges, attacking Ginger with brutal force. The animal’s bite leaves a wound that begins to heal at an unnatural speed, and soon, strange transformations begin to manifest. At first, these changes seem physical—accelerated hair growth, heightened senses, and an insatiable appetite—but as time passes, her personality shifts as well. Ginger grows more assertive, sexually confident, and rebellious, traits that make her magnetic to others yet alienate her from her once inseparable sister.
Director John Fawcett and screenwriter Karen Walton craft the lycanthropy metaphor with unusual clarity: the werewolf curse mirrors puberty’s upheaval. Much like films inspired by the “body horror” sensibilities of David Cronenberg, Ginger Snaps draws unsettling power from portraying transformation as both horrifying and intoxicating. This duality captures adolescence’s contradictions—its liberating confidence and its destabilizing volatility—while reframing the traditional werewolf narrative to center on female experience. For Ginger, the physical metamorphosis coincides with new social dominance, a rejection of her former outsider identity, and an embrace of raw, animalistic freedom. For Brigitte, these same changes signify danger, loss, and the unraveling of the relationship she once relied upon.
The narrative excels in balancing its supernatural premise with human emotional stakes. While a less thoughtful script could have leaned entirely on gore and special effects, Ginger Snaps roots its horror in character dynamics. Walton’s writing, although sometimes heavy-handed in its metaphors, is remarkably strong for a film produced on a modest budget. Themes of loyalty, femininity, sexuality, and transformation run parallel to the literal werewolf plot, creating layers of meaning. This thematic richness ensures that the story resonates beyond its horror trappings, inviting audience discussion in a way that pure creature features often do not.
Central to this success are the performances. Katharine Isabelle embodies Ginger with feral charm, adeptly shifting from sardonic teenager to predatory seductress. Her portrayal never loses sight of the character’s humanity, even as the animal side takes over. Emily Perkins delivers an equally strong performance as Brigitte; her quiet, introverted resolve becomes the emotional anchor of the film, providing a moral counterbalance to Ginger’s volatility. Together, they create a convincing sisterly dynamic where love is tested by fear, jealousy, and survival.
Even the supporting cast contributes meaningfully, with Mimi Rogers standing out as Pamela Fitzgerald, the sisters’ well-intentioned but oblivious mother. Rogers resists the temptation to overplay the role for comic relief, giving Pamela a genuine warmth that contrasts the darkness overtaking her daughters’ lives. This restraint keeps the film grounded, preventing it from becoming camp and ensuring its humor arises naturally from character interactions rather than exaggerated antics.
Visually, Ginger Snaps sidesteps the glossy look of higher-budget Hollywood horror, opting instead for the muted realism of suburban streets and dimly lit interiors. This aesthetic choice enhances the film’s authenticity, making the supernatural intrusion feel more jarring. The creature effects, while limited by budget, are used sparingly and effectively; rather than relying on endless transformation sequences, the filmmakers allow viewers’ imaginations to fill in the most disturbing details. This restraint mirrors the approach of Dog Soldiers, demonstrating that practical effects and atmospheric tension often outshine CGI spectacle.
The film’s release trajectory reflects its cult status. Premiering at the 2000 Toronto International Film Festival, Ginger Snaps did not achieve immediate mainstream attention. Instead, it found its audience gradually, through word of mouth and home video rentals. Horror fans discovered it over time, drawn to its unconventional blend of teenage angst and supernatural dread. In the years since, it has earned a devoted following and spawned two sequels—Ginger Snaps 2: Unleashed (2004) and Ginger Snaps Back: The Beginning (2004)—that expanded the lore while retaining the core themes of the original.
Part of the film’s enduring appeal is that it approaches werewolf mythology with fresh eyes. Traditionally, cinematic werewolves are framed around male protagonists, their curse tied to aggression, uncontrollable rage, or forbidden lust in a way that reflects masculine fears and desires. By centering two teenage girls and equating lycanthropy with female sexuality and transformation, Ginger Snaps subverts these tropes, adding complexity to a genre often dominated by male perspectives. The werewolf becomes a vehicle for exploring how society reacts to—and attempts to control—the emergence of female autonomy.
Dark humor plays an important role as well. The Fitzgerald sisters’ sardonic wit is woven throughout, providing moments of levity even as events grow increasingly grim. These comedic beats arise out of their personalities, underscoring their outsider status and emotional coping mechanisms. The humor and horror work in tandem, preventing the film from collapsing into bleakness while maintaining its bite.
Thematically, Ginger Snaps joins a short list of werewolf films that transcend their genre trappings, akin to An American Werewolf in London (1981) or The Company of Wolves (1984). It invites analysis not just for its scares but for what those scares signify: the fear of change, the allure of liberation, and the strain placed on human bonds by transformation—be it supernatural or psychological. In this respect, it aligns with Cronenberg’s The Fly, where bodily change becomes the central metaphor for loss and evolution.
Two decades later, the film remains a touchstone for horror fans advocating for more diverse and conceptually rich werewolf stories. Its success highlights that the subgenre’s scarcity is not due to audience disinterest but perhaps to a lack of filmmakers willing to innovate beyond conventional “monster hunt” templates. As the horror landscape continues to evolve, Ginger Snaps offers a blueprint for blending creature mythology with compelling character drama, ensuring that lycanthropes can be as emotionally resonant as their undead or vampiric cousins.
For viewers wondering why werewolf cinema lags behind zombie apocalypses and vampire sagas, Ginger Snaps provides an answer: when the subgenre is approached with thematic depth, sharp performances, and genuine character stakes, it can be every bit as compelling—and perhaps even more relatable—than its supernatural peers. In weaving together dark humor, horror, and adolescence’s raw turbulence, the film stands as a rare entry that deserves both its cult following and its place in the broader horror canon.
As I try to put into words my reaction to the new film Dream House, one phrase comes to mind:
Bleh.
Dream House is about this guy played by Daniel Craig who we’re told, at the start of the film, is a writer. He’s moved out to his “Dream House” out in the middle of one of those cinematic suburban communities. He shares his dream house with his wife Libby (Rachel Weisz) and his two little girls. However, things aren’t quite what they seem. The girls keep seeing a shadowy figure watching them. Teenagers keep performing Satanic rituals in the basement. Craig’s neighbor looks just like Naomi Watts. Oh no! Has he been sucked into Mulholland Drive!?
No, not quite. Instead, he’s just found himself trapped in a painfully slow movie that takes itself and it’s half-baked plot way too seriously. This film is being advertised as if it’s a horror movie but there’s nothing scary about it and it’s almost as if the film itself is refusing to lower itself to providing us with any “cheap” thrills. The film instead is a mystery but it’s one of those mysteries where we discover the solution not through any artfully placed clues but instead by random characters showing up and having flashbacks.
There’s a big twist about 80 minutes into this 99 minute film and, as a reviewer, I know that it would not be right for me to spoil that twist. Fortunately, however, Morgan Creek Productions decided to include that twist in the film’s trailer so, if you want to know, here you go:
Again, it takes this film 80 minutes to reach the twist that the trailer reveals after 1 minutes and 17 seconds. So, as a result, you spend the first 80 minutes going, “Okay, we know…” Once the twist is revealed, there’s only 18 minutes to wrap up the film’s plot and this is done in the clumsiest way imaginable.
Now, one reason for this might be that the film’s producers reportedly clashed with director Jim Sheridan and eventually took the film away from him. Sheridan, Craig, and Watts have all refused to do any promotion for the film and have publicly stated that they hate the version that has been released. I don’t know. My natural impulse has always been to side with the artists as opposed to the corporate people. After all, we’ve all heard about what happened to Erich Von Stroheim’s original cut of Greed and about what Terry Gilliam went through with Brazil. Still, it’s hard to look at the assembled footage and see any hint that this film could have been anything more than the film that’s currently playing at your local theater.
When I told Arleigh about my feelings towards Dream House, he asked me if I felt it was the “worst one of the year.” I wouldn’t go quite that far. Dream House is forgettable but it’s not as pompous as The Conspirator or as insulting as Straw Dogs.
For decades, the zombie film genre has been defined by the rules established by the grandfather of the modern zombie story, George A. Romero. His 1968 landmark horror film Night of the Living Dead transformed what had once been a gothic creature rooted in the voodoo folklore of Haiti and the Caribbean into an apocalyptic force symbolizing social collapse and human weakness. The film not only terrified audiences but also laid the foundational blueprint for every zombie movie that followed. Romero’s zombies weren’t merely monsters — they were a reflection of humanity’s fears, prejudices, and inner decay. His influence has remained so pervasive that, even today, filmmakers working in horror are inevitably responding to his legacy, whether they realize it or not.
Through the years, there have been numerous attempts to deviate from Romero’s formula. The most prominent early success came in the 1980s with the Return of the Living Dead series — a clever horror-comedy franchise that infused dark humor and punk aesthetics into the genre. Yet even that beloved cult entry eventually lost steam. True reinvention did not arrive until 2002, when British filmmaker Danny Boyle and screenwriter Alex Garland collaborated on 28 Days Later, a project that both revitalized the zombie genre and split its devoted fan base down the middle. Was it truly a “zombie” film, or something else entirely? That very debate remains unresolved more than twenty years later.
Boyle’s film begins not with a supernatural curse or the reanimation of the dead, but with a catastrophic act of human arrogance. A group of naïve animal-rights activists break into a research laboratory to rescue chimpanzees subjected to bureaucratic cruelty. However, they find that these animals have been injected with a rage-inducing virus — the product of bioengineering rather than black magic. One of the activists, horrified by what she witnesses, ignores the pleas of a desperate scientist and frees a chimp, unleashing a pandemic that will decimate Britain within weeks. This opening sequence is both economical and horrifying: the origins of the apocalypse come from compassion twisted into recklessness. Boyle establishes his tone immediately — quick editing, grainy digital video, and an oppressive sense of realism create a world that feels disturbingly possible.
The narrative then leaps forward twenty-eight days. In a now-iconic sequence, the protagonist Jim (played by Cillian Murphy) awakens from a coma in an abandoned London hospital. His disorientation mirrors that of the audience: sterile hallways littered with trash, flickering lights, a haunting silence broken only by the hum of wind through the empty city. When Jim emerges into the sunlight, the camera captures a London entirely devoid of people, its majestic landmarks standing as hollow monuments to civilization’s sudden collapse. This is one of cinema’s most unforgettable depictions of isolation. The haunting score by John Murphy and the use of Godspeed You! Black Emperor’s instrumental “East Hastings” heighten the apocalyptic stillness, transforming London into a ghost metropolis.
Jim’s bewilderment only deepens when he seeks refuge in a church — a setting traditionally associated with salvation — only to find it desecrated by carnage. His presence awakens a horde of infected individuals who charge at him with terrifying speed. Unlike Romero’s slow, lumbering undead, Boyle’s infected are human beings transformed by a virus that amplifies their aggression to animalistic extremes. They move like predators, sprinting at prey with berserk fury. Jim narrowly escapes thanks to two survivors, Selena (Naomie Harris) and Mark (Noah Huntley), who introduce him to the brutal new rules of existence: infection spreads through blood contact, turning victims within seconds, and hesitation means death.
The trio’s uneasy alliance soon crumbles after Mark becomes infected, forcing Selena to kill him without hesitation. This harrowing moment establishes her as one of the film’s strongest and most pragmatic characters — a refreshing departure from the damsel archetype that has long haunted horror cinema. Jim and Selena later encounter Frank (Brendan Gleeson), a good-natured taxi driver, and his teenage daughter Hannah (Megan Burns), who have been surviving in a fortified apartment building. Together they form a fragile surrogate family and travel in search of a military broadcast promising safety and a potential cure.
Boyle deftly blends moments of human warmth amid horror. Scenes like the group’s scavenging trip through an abandoned grocery store — a darkly comic echo of Dawn of the Dead’s consumer satire — offer glimpses of joy and normalcy. The countryside sequences, shot with a painterly eye, contrast the urban decay of London with the serene beauty of a world reclaiming itself from human control. Nature, the film quietly suggests, endures long after people have vanished.
Their journey leads them to a fortified mansion commanded by Major Henry West (Christopher Eccleston), a British officer whose soldiers claim to have “the answer to infection.” The supposed sanctuary quickly reveals a darker truth. West’s band of men have descended into moral depravity, promising their commander that the promise of “women” will restore morale. The film shifts from survival horror to psychological thriller as the real threat emerges — not the infected outside, but the monstrousness within human beings when order collapses. In this descent into militaristic patriarchy and madness, Boyle channels the spirit of Romero’s Day of the Dead, where the military’s illusion of control becomes the true source of terror.
Boyle and Garland’s reinvention of the zombie mythos was revolutionary. Longtime fans of Romero’s shambling undead initially resisted the notion that 28 Days Later even qualified as a zombie movie. After all, its creatures weren’t reanimated corpses but living people overtaken by an uncontrollable virus. Yet their function within the story — relentless, dehumanized embodiments of contagion and rage — served the same thematic role as zombies always had: mirrors for society’s breakdown. The debate over whether the infected “count” as zombies is less important than the fact that Boyle redefined the genre’s emotional and kinetic language. His infected didn’t just pursue victims; they hunted them. Their blistering speed and screams injected pure chaos into what had once been slow, creeping dread.
The technical and artistic choices heightened the film’s intensity. Shot largely on digital video with handheld cameras, 28 Days Later looked raw and immediate, more like found footage than polished fiction. This realism bridged the gap between old-school horror and the new century’s fixation on viral outbreaks and global instability. Coming in the post-9/11 era, its images of deserted cities and military lockdowns felt eerily prescient, foreshadowing later fears of pandemics and authoritarian control.
The performances ground the film emotionally. Cillian Murphy’s portrayal of Jim evolves from bewildered innocence to hardened survivor, serving as the audience’s emotional compass. Naomie Harris delivers one of the genre’s most capable female performances, blending vulnerability with ferocity. Brendan Gleeson, always magnetic, brings compassion and tragedy to Frank — a man whose paternal instincts ultimately lead to heartbreak. Christopher Eccleston’s Major West stands as a chilling embodiment of human corruption in crisis: the soldier who insists he is saving civilization while replicating its worst impulses.
Despite being produced on a modest budget of roughly eight million dollars, Boyle’s film achieved a scale and impact far greater than its resources suggested. The empty London shots — achieved by closing key streets at dawn for only minutes at a time — remain astonishing feats of logistical precision and cinematic audacity. More importantly, the film’s minimalist production enhanced its believability. Everything about 28 Days Later feels lived-in, grimy, and plausible.
Two decades on, 28 Days Later continues to stand as one of the most influential horror films of the 21st century. Its success reinvigorated a genre that had grown stale and inspired a wave of imitators across film, television, and video games, from Zack Snyder’s Dawn of the Dead remake to AMC’s The Walking Dead. Beyond its cultural impact, it remains a haunting meditation on rage — personal, societal, and political. Boyle and Garland transformed horror into a canvas for existential dread, exploring how quickly civility unravels when survival becomes the only law.
Whether one calls it a zombie film or not hardly matters anymore. 28 Days Later breathed new life into the undead myth, shattering old rules and redefining what modern horror could be. The debate it sparked continues, but one truth is undeniable: the genre has never been the same since Jim first walked through that silent, ruined London — a world devoured not by the dead, but by the terrifying rage of the living.
When I swore to myself that I would write a review of every new film I saw in 2011, I failed to take into consideration that 1) I see a lot of films, 2) I have a day job, and 3) I’m like Ms. ADHD. So, as part of my effort to catch up, here’s 6 quickie reviews.
Beginners opened with a lot of critical hype earlier this year and, though it’s not quite as great as it’s being made out to be, it still deserved the majority of that praise. At the very least, I retain better memories of Beginners than I do this summer’s other similarly hyped film, A Better Life. Ewan McGregor is an artist who struggles to come terms with the death of his gay father (Christopher Plummer) while falling in love with a French actress (Melanie Laurent). The autobiographical film effortlessly shifts from flashbacks to Plummer’s life in-and-out of the closet to McGregor’s relationship with Laurent and the end result is a meditation on love, secrets, and life. Most of the pre-release buzz dealt with Plummer’s performance but, honestly, Plummer is good but you never forget you’re watching Christopher Plummer and Goran Visnjic, who plays Plummer’s boyfriend, overacts. The film really belongs to Ewan McGregor who gives one of his best performances in this film. Seriously, does any actor fall in love as wonderfully as Ewan McGregor?
Best friends Owen Wilson and Jason Sudekis are given a “hall pass” (i.e., permission to cheat) by their spouses (Jenna Fischer and Cristina Applegate). The film’s forgettable but seriously, guys, don’t go asking us for a hall pass, okay? One interesting point is that this film was co-written by the guy who won the first season of Project Greenlight. Remember that show?
Jason Sudekis also appeared in another comedy this year and if Hall Pass is one of the year’s most forgettable comedies, than Horrible Bosses is one of the best. Basically Jason Bateman, Charlie Day, and Sudekis are stuck working for horrible bosses (played by Kevin Spacey, Colin Farrell, and Jennifer Aniston) and they decide that the only way to handle the situation is to commit mass murder. There’s a lot I could say about this film but chances are, you’ve already seen it. Therefore, you already know that this is a rare dark comedy that actually has the guts to be truly dark. You also know that the entire cast brings an almost heroic sincerity to their often bizarre roles with Charlie Day’s misunderstood sex offender as an obvious stand-out. Probably the best advice that I can give in this review is to enjoy and appreciate this film while you can before the inevitable sequel comes out and screws up all these good memories.
I didn’t see Paul when it was first released in theaters because the trailer really made it look kinda awful. However, I did eventually give it a shot OnDemand and I was pleasantly surprised. Two English sci-fi fanboys (played by Simon Pegg and Nick Frost) are taking a road trip to visit all of the major UFO sites in the U.S. This leads to them meeting an alien named Paul (voiced by Seth Rogen) who is being pursued by the typical guys in black suits. Anyway, this is a predictable film and the balance between the serious and comedic is often a bit awkward. However, it’s still a likable film and how can’t you enjoy watching Pegg and Frost? They can make even the lamest of jokes hilarious. Kristen Wiig steals the film as a fundamentalist who, upon being enlightened about the nature of the universe by Paul, embraces blasphemy with endearing enthusiasm.
No, I did not force Jeff to take me to see this when it was first released in theaters back in April. I tried, mostly be saying things like, “Wow, Prom looks like it would be a funny movie to see and spend the whole time making mean jokes about and making all the little tweens in the audience cry…” but he saw through my ruse and, if memory serves me correct, I ended up seeing the second worst film of 2011 (a.k.a. The Conspirator) instead. Anyway, I ended up seeing Prom OnDemand last month and it’s not really that bad. It’s not good either. It’s just kinda there. In other words, Prom is incredibly meh and that’s one thing prom night should never be. (I loved my proms, by the way, and, whenever things seem overwhelming, I often think to myself, “If only every night could be Prom Night…”) Prom is forgettable and inoffensive but come on, tweens deserve better films. They are the future, after all.
Terri made me cry and cry and was one of my favorite movies of the summer. It’s a surprisingly poignant film that worked wonders with material that, at first glance, seemed awfully conventional. Terri (played by Jacob Wysocki) is a sensitive, obese teenager who is taken under the wing of an unconventional assistant principal (John C. Reilly). It’s a familiar story but director Azazel Jacobs tells this story with care and sensitivity and Wysocki and Reilly bring their characters to life with such skill that you can’t help but get caught up in their story. Terri’s loving but senile uncle is played by Creed Bratton, who proves here that he’s capable of doing a lot more than just parodying himself on The Office. When I went to this movie, two old women sitting behind me went, “Awwww!” at a scene where Wysocki spontaneously hugs Reilly. The film earns the sentiment.
Most of these films are available via OnDemand or are currently available on DVD. Horrible Bosses and Terri are scheduled to be released in October while Beginners will come out in November.
Here’s one thing I’ve learned about relationships – sometimes, you have to compromise. Sometimes, you have to do things for your man that you’d rather not do and you have to pretend like you’re enjoying it and sometimes, you even have to do it several times before you get what it is that you want. Case in point: I recently went to two sports films with Jeff.
Now, I have to be honest. I don’t know much about sports in general and quite frankly, I really have next to no desire to know. Why am I so indifferent to this thing that most men appear to be incapable of living without? Well,
1) I have asthma and therefore, I never got to play any of the games that all the other kids were playing. This led to me becoming bitter towards those who could actually breathe and have fun at the same time and,
2) I’m a girl.
My indifference to sports tends to extend even to cinematic sports. Seriously, most sports-related films either put me to sleep or lead to me making a lot of snarky comments under my breath. However, I recently forced Jeff to accompany me to see One Day, which is one of the most girly movies ever made. In fact, it was such a girly movie that I’ve had to see not one but two sports movies with Jeff. The first was Warrior and the second (which we saw on Saturday) was Moneyball.
I don’t quite feel qualified to review Moneyball because, to be honest, I couldn’t make heads or tails of what was going on during most of the film. Normally, I would just say that this was a sign of failure on the film’s part but the audience around me really seemed to love this film and so did Jeff. So, I’m going to refrain from judging Moneyball too harshly. Instead, I’ll simply state that this film was not for me but if you’re a baseball fan (and you really love to get into the nitty gritty details of how a baseball team is put together), chances are that you’ll enjoy this film.
Fortunately, there are a few things that help make Moneyball a tolerable experience even for a sport illiterate like me. The film tells the story of Billy Beane, the general manager of the Oakland A’s and how he turned the A’s into a winning team by revolutionizing the way that teams are put together. I’m not really sure what he did that was revolutionary because the film itself really doesn’t spend too much time explaining how his method is different from the previous method. It spends a lot of time telling us that his approach is different but Aaron Sorkin’s script seems to assume that everyone in the audience already knows how baseball works. (That’s not necessarily a slam against the film, either. It’s a baseball movie, after all.) Luckily, Brad Pitt, who gives such a mature and multi-faceted performance here that you hope that Billy succeeds even if, like me, you’re not really sure what he’s talking about half the time, plays Billy Beane. Seriously, this was the first time I’ve ever watched Brad Pitt and forgotten that I was watching Brad Pitt. Pitt is ably supported by Jonah Hill, who plays his assistant and is largely responsible for introducing Pitt to the “new” system. Hill plays his scenes with all the enthusiasm of a high school nerd who has finally forced the cool kids to acknowledge how much smarter he is than them. It’s a truly endearing performance and again, you find yourself rooting for Hill even if you can’t quite understand what he’s going on about half the time.
Again, if you’re a sports fan or a fan of statistics (which I am not because seriously, math is just one big bleh to me), you’ll find a lot of to enjoy in Moneyball. I wish the film had been a bit more accessible for someone like me but obviously, I’m not that target audience and, regardless of whether you’re a sports fan or not, director Bennett Miller keeps the action moving quickly and the performances of Pitt and Hill both hold your attention.
Warrior takes place in the world of “mixed martial arts,” which I assume is the new big sport. I say assume because I actually know even less about the world of mixed martial arts than I do about baseball. Before going in to see Warrior, all I knew about MMA and the Ultimate Fighting Championship was that Russell – one of the most unlikable Big Brother houseguests ever – was apparently a UFC contender. Or maybe it was Jesse. I don’t know. I have trouble keeping all the Big Brother houseguests straight, to be honest.
Warrior is the story of two brothers. One of them is a bitter, pill-popping ex-Marine who fights because he’s angry at the world. Tom Hardy plays him. The other is played by Joel Edgerton and is presented as a happily married teacher who is fighting because he’s flat broke and in danger of losing his home. The two brothers haven’t spoken in years and about the only thing they have in common (beyond the fact that they’re both good at fighting) is a shared hatred for their father (a quite poignant Nick Nolte, doing wonders in a role that seems almost too perfect for him), a recovering alcoholic who sees his sons as his only hope for redemption. Ultimately, the parallel fighting careers of the two brothers leads to a surprise family reunion in Atlantic City where they find themselves both competing in the same brutal, winner-take-all tournament.
Warrior tells a pretty familiar story and there are a few plot developments (such as Hardy’s AWOL status from the Marines) that feel undeveloped but the film still works about a hundred percent better than it has any right to. Director Gavin O’Connor wisely takes a low-key approach to the film’s more melodramatic moments and brings a sense of gritty realism to the beginning of the film that provides quite a contrast to the later gaudiness of Atlantic City. Nolte and Edgerton both give excellent performances and, after years of being best known for his mug shot, it’s nice to see what a strong and multifaceted actor Nick Nolte actually is. However, the film truly belongs to Tom Hardy. In this film, Hardy is a true force of nature and gives a performance that is both frightening and sympathetic at the same time. You want to reach out and give the poor guy a hug even though you know he might end up killing you in response.
Coming out of Warrior, I still didn’t know much about MMA but I did know that I had just seen a well-made, emotionally satisfying film.
Danish filmmaker Nicolas Winding Refn has made just a handful of films with most staying under the radar of most of the general film-going public. He first caught the attention of indie film fans with his Pusher Trilogy over in Denmark, but he really caught the attention of these fans with his explosive collaboration with Tom Hardy on the Bronson biopic. He would follow that film with the violent existentialist Viking film Valhalla Rising. It would take another major collaboration with another rising star in Ryan Gosling for Winding Refn to finally have his major breakout film which has caught the attention of not just the indie film fans and cineaste crowd, but the general public at-large.
Drive was first screened over at this year’s 2011 Cannes Film Festival where it premiered “in competition” for the Palme d’Or. While the film didn’t win the top prize for best film at Cannes it didn’t garner Nicolas Winding Refn “Best Director” award and his work on this film more than merits such an accolade. The film would begin to screen at other major film festivals before landing at the Toronto International Film Festival before making it’s major public release in North America. Everywhere the film went the consensus reaction to the film has ranged from positive to calls for the film as one of 2011’s best.
So, it would seem most everyone has been quite positive with their reaction to Refn’s Drive. Is this film just another indie arthouse title which the elitist film fans have begun to hype up to levels that would border on cosmic? Or is this film actually as good as it has been talked up to be by such film fans and those of the general public who have seen it? I think the answer lies somewhere in-between.
Drive has been called an action-drama to crime-thriller to film noir and even an existentialist meditation of the film variety. Some have even called it a modern urban fairy tale from the many traditional tropes and themes inherent in fairy tales. The film actually seems to defy genre labels as it’s all those and even more. Nicolas Winding Refn has made a film with so much variety in its cinematic DNA from other classic films and storytelling styles that watching the film once is not enough to find them all.
The film makes a strong statement with it’s introduction of the character who remains nameless but could be called “The Driver” or “The Kid”. Ryan Gosling’s performance in this opening sequence will set the foundation for his character from beginning to end. His driver role is not much for chit-chat and unnecessary talking with those who have hired him to be their expert getaway driver. He’s meticulous with his equipment and intractable when it comes to the rules he has set down for his clients. He would be theirs for the five minutes they need him to drive them away from their criminal acts. Whatever they do before or after those five minutes doesn’t matter to him and he sticks to this rule explicitly. Another rule which he lays down is that he will not be carrying a firearm. These rules have had some audiences bring to mind Jason Statham’s Transporter character and they would not be totally wrong to say so. What Gosling’s driver has over Statham’s is the air of realism to the role. It’s a realism that borders on hyper-reality as the film moves on to it’s climactic conclusion, but real nonetheless. Gosling’s “driver” will not do extensive and elaborate fighting skills the way Statham’s would.
The film would move from it’s powerful introduction and into a much more calm and somewhat serene section as the nameless driver gradually gets to know his next door neighbor in the form of Irene as played by Carey Mulligan. Their relationship will form the core of the film’s narrative and it’s the driver’s growing affection not just for Irene but her young son that would dictate some of the decisions he would make right up to the end of the film. It’s a relationship built not on extensive dialogue banter but mostly on meaningful glances and silent understanding between two characters who seem to have found a kindred kinship between them. It’s this growing relationship between the two and Irene’s son which almost look like a familial unit forming until the return of Irene’s incarcerated and newly-released husband Standard. This is a character played by Oscar Isaac as a man desperate to take full advantage of his last chance at normalcy and redemption, but ultimately doomed to fail.
Standard doesn’t just become the only wrench in the happy life Gosling’s character seems to want to have with Irene and her son. Into the picture also happens to come in is his mentor and business partner Shannon (Bryan Cranston doing a great job as the good-natured, but opportunistic fool character many Shakespearean tragedies always seem to have) and Shannon’s even seedier acquaintances in Hollywood mogul-turned-mob boss Bernie Rose (Albert Brooks in a chilling performance) and his more boisterous, but not as smart partner in Nino (Ron Perlman).
The film seems to settle on the low gears for the first hour of the film, but it’s during a botched robbery attempt where the driver becomes embroiled in that Drive finally moves into the high gears and stays there until the very end. Refn’s decision to use the first hour to round out and build the characters in this film definitely pays off in the end. The audience becomes quite clear as to who the players are and what motivates them to do what they do the rest of the film. Even the most secondary and tertiary roles in this film has a part to play. Even Christina Hendricks in the role of a low-level moll to a gang of criminals gets to have her time to shine if just briefly.
Once the narrative shifts from character study to an almost Cronenbergian exercise in violence and brutality does the film finally able to hook in the last few audiences who may have still been iffy about Drive. Not to say that the final 45-minutes of the film was a non-stop action film, but it does move at a consistently higher gear pace than the first hour. We see the driver having to show to the audience that he’s not just an expert wheelman for Hollywood (stunt driver by day) and the criminal underground (getaway driver by night). It serves the film well that Gosling’s character has the barest minimum of lines of dialogue. We see all we need to know about this character through his behavior that brings to mind roles played by such past luminaries as Steve McQueen and Clint Eastwood.
Most likely it would be in the second half of the film that should satisfy the action junkies. While the action scenes are not of the Michael Bay-type they do show that Refn has a fine grasp of what makes an action scene thrilling. Whether the scene calls for some of the most well-done car chase on film since Frankenheimer showed everyone how to properly do it in Ronin or scenes of sudden brutal violence which calls to mind similar scenes from Cronenberg’s last two films (A History of Violence and Eastern Promises). Both types of action were done efficiently with little to no glamour to gloss over things. The burst of violence actually adds to the mystique of Gosling’s “Man With No Name” role. One particular scene in the apartment elevator where Gosling, Mulligan and a goon sent by the mob makes for one of the best scenes in the film and of 2011.
As much as these scenes of action and violence will be the ones to get the most attention from the general film-going public in the end it’s the excellent screenplay by Hossein Amini of the James Sallis’ novel of the same name which really holds everything together in conjunction with some top-notch performances from everyone involved. The film makes or breaks itself on Gosling’s performance as the driver and he delivers on all cylinders. His performance was quite reminiscent of past performances such as James Caan as Frank in Michael Mann’s Thief, Steve McQueen also as Frank in Bullitt, but in my opinion Gosling’s work in this film brings to mind young Clint Eastwood as “The Man With No Name” in Sergio Leone’s spaghetti western trilogy. Both characters were the type to let their actions speak for them and were both full of quiet confidence not to mention restrained violence which would erupt when needed.
Much has been said about Albert Brooks’ turn as the mob boss Bernie Rose. how the role was quite the 180-degrees from people’s perception of the actor who usually did comedic roles. I say that Albert Brooks always had a dark side to his comedic talent. I mean he was and is megamaniacal villain Hank Scorpio from The Simpsons. In all seriousness, Brooks’ as the mob boss was the other pillar which held all the other performances focused. In fact, Gosling’s character and Brook’s Bernie Rose could almost be considered mirror-images of each other. They were characters who had found their place in the world and the role they would play and didn’t struggle against it. Everyone else in the film struggled against their lot in life. It was also these characters who had the bulk of the film’s dialogue.
Drive has been hyped (for some overhyped) since it first premiered at this year’s Cannes Film Festival, but it’s one of those rare films which has more than earned and surpassed the hype which has preceded it’s general release to the general public. It’s a film which bucks traditional genre labels by combining the themes, ideas and foundations from many different film and storytelling genres. For fans of action there’s enough thrilling action to sate them. For those who are fans of film noir this film definitely carries within it the DNA set down by the film noir of the 40’s, 50’s and 60’s. For some who wish to watch a film which explore existential themes then Refn’s film has that too. In the end, Drive manages to be a film which caters to so many different audiences without ever pandering to them or dumbing the story down. It’s a film made by a filmmaker who continues to impress and who has made his best film to date.
Drive is a film that is not for everyone, but it’s also a film that everyone should see and experience at least once. It is also one of the year’s best films and, so far, my top film of 2011.
“No one does it like the teenager do it…” This kinda looks like Dazed and Confused as directed by a Crazies-era George Romero. I actually like this trailer a lot. It has this vaguely threatening subtext to it.
Have you seen The Guard yet? If you haven’t, you need to. This deceptively simple (and violent) Irish film is one of the best films of the year so far. It’s also one of my personal favorites.
Boyle (played by the great Brendan Gleeson) is a casually corrupt but well-meaning Irish policeman who appears to have settled into a life of quiet complacency. He spends his time caring for his aging mother, bragging (and perhaps lying) about his past career as a competitive swimmer, entertaining prostitutes, and taking the occasional acid trip. As there’s little real crime taking place in the small coastal village that he calls home, Boyle is free to spend his workday playing video games and ignoring his far more serious partner, a rookie named McBride (played by Rory Keenan). McBride is married to a mail order bride and, beneath his straight-laced exterior, has a secret of his own. Things start to pick up for Boyle and McBride when an unidentified man is brutally murdered in a manner that suggests he fell victim to Satanists. Meanwhile, cocky FBI agent Wendell Everett (Don Cheadle) is in the village, searching for three viscous drug smugglers (played by Liam Cunningham, Mark Strong, and David Wilmot). Despite Wendell’s condescending attitude and Boyle’s own casual racism, the two of them soon discover that their two cases are connected and that there’s more to Boyle than originally meets the eyes…
In almost every way, The Guard is a triumph. Director John Michael McDonagh (whose brother Martin directed Gleeson in In Bruges) finds a perfect balance between comedy and tension and manages to maintain it throughout the entire film. McDonagh has a wonderful eye for detail and the entire film is full of memorable characters who are quirky without ever being silly. Though the villains (and their ultimate evil scheme) will be familiar to anyone who has ever seen an action film, Cunningham, Strong, and Wilmot are all believably ruthless and intimidating. Don Cheadle is perfectly cast as the straight-laced Wendell and the film has a lot of fun with his “fish-out-of-water” attempts to bring American justice to the Irish coast.
However, ultimately, this film is all about Brendan Gleeson. For decades, Gleeson has been one of the most dependable character actors in the movies. Whether he was playing a villain or a hero and regardless of the size of his role, Gleeson has always made an impression and he’s always left filmgoers like me wanting to see more of him. Well, in The Guard, Gleeson gets to show us exactly what he can do and the result is one of the best performances of the year. Whether he’s greeting a prostitute in an immaculate three-piece suit or having a secret meeting with the local representative of the IRA, Gleeson dominates the entire film and, most importantly, keeps us guessing about just who Boyle is. Gleeson triumphs in The Guard and the end result is one of the best films of 2011.
I have something of a tradition with John Carpenter’s The Fog. Every year, I try to watch the film on the date and time where the story starts – April 20th, at around 11:55pm. It’s not the scariest of stories, but it does have a spooky atmosphere that lends itself well to Halloween – or any late quiet night. I love this movie.
