film reviews, interviews, features | BRWC

Author: Matt Conway

  • Taurus: The BRWC Review

    Taurus: The BRWC Review

    Cole, a celebrated yet troubled musician, searches for inspiration to record his next project. Consumed by superstardom’s spotlight and a regiment of drugs, Cole falls into a personal void in the fictional music biopic redux Taurus. 

    The latest from writer/director Tim Sutton continues the ambient filmmaker’s penchant for narratives centered around ripped-from-the-headlines developments. Where previous efforts, like Dark Knight, ruminated on mass shootings’ tragic senselessness, Taurus steeps itself in the all-too-common parable haunting celebrity figureheads addicted to a cocktail of drugs, excess, and self-destructive thoughts. 

    Sutton’s subject matter is exceedingly relevant, and while Taurus only develops into a semi-formed meditation, the filmmaker conjures an intimate snapshot of an all-too-common reality. 

    Sutton greatly benefits from centering his tale around his incendiary star performer. Known best by his Machine Gun Kelly moniker, Colson Baker has already built a robust resume as an actor (The Dirt and Captive State). The aptly-named role of Cole offers the rapper/rockstar his most personal project yet. It’s an opportunity he seizes with an aching, career-best performance.

    Unlike his half-baked stoner comedy Good Mourning, Taurus is the anthesis of a vanity project for Baker. The actor imbues a few personal demons in his insular performance, but the role aligns more with a performative realization of the nightmarish journey affecting several celebrity talents. As Cole, Baker sulks around in a drug-laced trance of anxiety, overwhelmed by his own existence as a marquee figure shouldering inescapable anguish. The actor’s withdrawn delivery and explosive bursts of frustration help articulate a character suffocating inside the airless pop culture bubble. 

    For Sutton, Taurus is a natural extension of his atmospheric filmmaking aesthetics. He and Cinematographer John Brawley operate the camera with technical aplomb, maneuvering through Cole’s rollercoaster existence through precise tracking shots and alluring lighting choices. From lively club nights to expressive recording sessions, Sutton entrenches viewers in a sense of place that always feels uneasy despite the numerous luxuries. 

    While proficient as a filmmaker, Sutton remains inconsistent as a screenwriter. I respect his cinéma vérité approach to storytelling, but his slice-of-life perspective often restricts his films’ grander insights. What Sutton perceives as incisive on the page can occasionally derail in meandering moments of emptiness. Like with Dark Knight, Sutton’s dialogue also features its fair share of didactic and heavy-handed exchanges. The screenplay’s weaknesses ultimately prevent Taurus from developing a profound portrait of celebrity ensnared within the callous gaze of social media culture. 

    For all its warts, Taurus still entrances in its surrealist vision of a musician’s descent into madness. If anything, the film should serve as another welcomed reminder of Colson Baker’s acting chops. 

    TAURUS will be in Theaters, On Demand and Digital on November 18, 2022.

  • The System: The BRWC Review

    The System: The BRWC Review

    The System Synopsis: After a drug bust, former marine Terry Savage (Tyrese Gibson) is recruited by authorities to go undercover in a notoriously dangerous prison. After discovering an underground fight ring, he must fight to stay alive and take down the corrupt system.

    Terry Savage, a marine forced into criminal activity, gets offered a plea deal to avoid significant punishment. The mission: infiltrate one of the country’s most dangerous prisons and uncover its corruption. Terry’s pursuits lead him into a vicious underground fighting ring guided by the abusive Warden Lucas in The System. 

    Hardened stories of dysfunctional prison life can often offer intimate dives into how people disenfranchised by society regain their strength and independence. The System does not pertain to that focus. While marketed as a heavy-handed drama, the film defines its own playful, 80s action movie frequency and is made all the better for its bare-knuckle brawler approach. 

    Writer/director Dallas Jackson, who crafted a similar action throwback with the so-so Welcome to Sudden Death, continues to evolve into a confident filmmaker. Working under stringent budget restrictions, Jackson masks his limited assets with his assured craftsmanship behind the camera. Each brawl evokes hard-hitting impact and taunt excitement, showcasing a flurry of well-coordinated punches through effectively jagged camera movements. There is also a lot of effort put into creatively enhancing the film’s series of prison brawls, including an emphasis on kung-fu taught by one of Terry’s wise prison friends. 

    I can already see critics groaning at The System for favoring its action techniques over challenging meditations on the corrupt prison system. In contrast, I would say Jackson manages both aspirations with enough success. The film’s straight-faced tone never feels too self-serious, often depicting a colorful array of personalities and its fair share of amusing pratfalls. Jackson’s script never offers any particularly revelatory insights on unjust prison life and racial inequities, but the filmmaker does soundly prop up both concepts through his amusing B-movie energy. 

    A skilled cast helps tremendously in treading The System’s finite tonal delivery. Star Tyrese Gibson doesn’t receive the credit he deserves as an actor. As Terry, Gibson imbues commanding gravitas and emotional vulnerabilities as he depicts the character’s burdened post-service life. His performance provides a crucial dramatic center to the narrative while impactfully grounding the material in real-world sentiments. Supporting players like Terrance Howard as Terry’s sage mentor and Lil Yatchy as a personable fight-night MC inject much-needed life into the proceedings. I also can’t forget Entourage star Jeremy Piven, who chews the scenery with affectionate glee as the prison’s corrupt warden. Each actor’s sincerity helps tremendously in propping up the film’s melodrama. 

    The System isn’t without its struggles. Jackson can often overcompensate to enhance his material, including the inclusion of grating score choices that awkwardly subtract from the film’s gritty environment. The film also endures some inconsistencies in execution, with a few stiff dialogue exchanges and a lack of nuance ultimately limiting the material’s upside.

    Still, The System discovers its comfort zone as an agreeable action throwback. I look forward to seeing Jackson continue to build upon his initial filmmaking successes. 

    The System is now playing on VOD services. 

  • Armageddon Time: The BRWC Review

    Armageddon Time: The BRWC Review

    Growing up as a Jewish boy in early 1980s New York, Paul Graff tries his best to pursue his artistic ambitions against the behest of his structured parents, Esther and Irving. He soon befriends Johnny, a similarly adventurous child who becomes the subject of bullying and mistreatment due to his identity as a black child. Paul and Johnny become instant companions, although their friendship faces restrictions defined by the challenging times in Armageddon Time. 

    As the latest effort from Ad Astra auteur James Gray, Armageddon Time arrives as the writer/director’s most personal endeavor yet – a feature almost exclusively from the perspective of Gray’s adolescent upbringing. Many see filmmaking passion projects like Armageddon as nostalgia-gazing walks down memory lane (Belfast and Steven Spielberg’s latest The Fabelmans). For Gray, his introspective look back takes a decidedly different turn. 

    Armageddon Time is not a warm retrospective. Instead, Gray crafts a painful, guilt-ridden observation of a harrowing coming-of-age chapter in his life. The results showcase a profoundly personal and thematically brazen effort that reckons with the characters’ – and our society’s – uncomfortable truths.  

    The film isn’t all doom and gloom. Gray eases viewers in with buoyant recollections of unkempt youth. At school, Paul and Johnny share a deeply-felt camaraderie defined by their affable personalities and carefree enthusiasm. When returning home, Paul enjoys his caring grandfather’s undying support while indulging in the rich spoils provided by his parents. 

    Gray paints these dynamics with an enchanting optimism. His camera, while well-tempered in its stylistic imprint, delicately conveys the joyful exuberance of a time when every dream in life seems attainable. Gray’s naturalistic screenplay also unearths endearing dynamics, showcasing an array of def dialogue exchanges and richly defined characters that come to life onscreen. 

    As the narrative unravels, Armageddon Time evolves into a far more complex affair. Paul and Johnny eventually separate after some innocent troublemaking, with Paul’s parents enforcing a strict ban due to growing concerns about Johnny and his nature. While race isn’t implicitly stated as a factor, the uncomfortable bigotry lingers in the background like a haunting spectrum. 

    It would be easy for Armageddon Time to paint a simplified depiction of racial disparity, but Gray never settles for easy answers. He keenly analyzes how Paul’s Jewish family and Johnny’s black identity share some kinship in their history of enduring bigotry. While some might think their shared experiences would unite them, Paul’s parents ultimately reverse the vitriol they endured back at the world around them. They adopt a vicious, survival-of-the-fittest attitude, showcasing closeted racial undertones and an unkempt aggressive streak masked by their existence as liberal everymen. 

    At the heart of Armageddon Time, Gray poignantly depicts how prejudice exists as a transformative force – a negative energy that infects everyone involved with an inhumane sense of distrust and apathy towards one another. This concept is all the more effective through framing the narrative from Paul’s wistful worldview. The optimistic child weathers a coming-of-age trial by fire, gradually losing his innocence as he’s exposed to the unjust realities defined in our divisive climate. 

    A skilled all-star cast helps unearth these dynamics effectively onscreen. Young star Banks Repeta displays ability far beyond his years as Paul, imbuing nuance and raw naturalism in his depiction of a personable youth exposed to the world’s callous cruelty. Anne Hathaway and Jeremy Strong balance affection and menace in their portrayals of Paul’s well-meaning yet damaging parents, while Anthony Hopkins steals every scene as Paul’s supportive and sincere grandfather. The quartet of actors forms an impressively lived-in family dynamic that becomes equally arresting and disturbing for viewers to unpack.

    I found myself entranced by Armageddon Time, but the film ultimately trips from one unavoidable flaw – its depiction of Johnny. I understand that Gray defines his feature from the unknowing perspective of his youthful protagonist Paul. Still, Johnny lacks the perspective and dimension needed to humanize his painful plight. A well-delivered performance from Till star Jaylin Webb can only do so much to bolster a character straddled by didactic dialogue exchanges and a lack of screentime. I know the film intends to view Johnny as another disenfranchised cog in a broken system, but the execution can’t help feeling too undefined for its own good. 

    While it doesn’t achieve perfect marks, Armageddon Time embeds itself in messy social dynamics with introspection and painful relevance. I continue to be a fan of Gray’s incisive and uncomforting perspective and remain excited to see where the filmmaker goes from here. 

    Armageddon Time is now playing in theaters. 

  • Triangle Of Sadness: The BRWC Review

    Triangle Of Sadness: The BRWC Review

    Triangle of Sadness Synopsis: Models Carl (Harris Dickinson) and Yaya (Charlbi Dean) are invited for a luxury cruise with a rogues’ gallery of super-rich passengers. At first, all appears Instagrammable, but the cruise ends catastrophically and the group finds themselves marooned on a desert island.

    An age-old clash between economic classes receives a satirical redux in Triangle of Sadness. For writer/director Ruben Östlund, deft social parables are a revered calling card of his artistic oeuvre. He garnered significant praise for his family dramedy Force Majeure – which fittingly received a far less sophisticated American remake – while also garnering acclaim for his similarly bleak comedy The Square. 

    With Triangle, Östlund returns to a familiar well with diminishing results. This tale of a down-on-his-luck model and his celebrity partner undergoing a trial by fire aims its sights on the ripe subject matter through a trilogy of satirical acts. The final product’s inconsistencies depict inspired blurbs of biting commentary and deflating moments of self-indulgent craftsmanship. 

    Even in a so-so feature, Östlund remains a compelling voice behind the camera. He and long-time cinematographer Fredrik Wenzel command the camera precisely, implementing a slew of naturalistic tracking shots and stylistic flourishes that accent the underlying themes effectively. I also appreciate the director’s ability to indulge in downright farcical ideas without leaning into the joke. The constant straight face helps sell the downright ridiculousness of the material’s absurdist comedic bend. 

    Some moments of Triangle of Sadness score uproarious laughs from this approach. The much-discussed second act, set inside a luxury cruiser, is where the film’s comedic voice truly takes flight, submerging itself in the seedy classist conditions dictating the boat’s hierarchy. Eventually, the carefully-constructed system comes crumbling down in a 15-20 minute segment that erupts with humorously deranged results. 

    I applaud Östlund for his well-defined perspective, although the auteur’s sensibilities eventually become a hindrance here. Triangle often feels unrestrained in its pursuits, lingering in its muck of commentaries and comedic pratfalls across an entirely bloated 147-minute runtime. The bloat would go down easier if the whole experience didn’t endure such wild inconsistencies. For every sharp situation, Östlund repurposes dated gags and uninspired narrative detours that lack the same creative spark of the film’s best moments.

    Triangle of Sadness’ thematic ambitions are equally unfulfilling. Stories of class warfare are more commonplace than ever in our divisive society – so much so that much of the ground Triangle treads can’t help feeling antiquated. Östlund’s perspective on the inevitable formation of social hierarchies and their ultimately dehumanizing effects presents merit. Unfortunately, the auteur doesn’t convey his astute observations with the impact and nuance he seeks. This effect is most felt in the film’s characters. Stars Harris Dickinson and the late Charlbi Dean are wonderfully sharp as a not-so-loving couple. Effective supporting turns from Woody Harrelson and Dolly De Leon add some much-needed comedic acidity to the table, yet none of the cast is able to create lived-in characters from the material’s embrace of well-worn stereotypes.

    While mildly compelling, Triangle of Sadness reckons with a timeless issue in an erratic and ultimately unsatisfying feature. Still, I remain a fan of Östlund’s verbose voice behind the camera and remain intrigued to see where he goes next. 

    Triangle of Sadness is now playing in theaters. 

  • Prey For The Devil: The BRWC Review

    Prey For The Devil: The BRWC Review

    Prey for the Devil Synopsis: Nun Sister Ann (Jacqueline Byers) prepares to perform an exorcism and comes face to face with a demonic force with mysterious ties to her past.

    Amidst an all-male Catholic school entrenched in the studies of supernatural exorcisms, Sister Ann vyes to become the first female in centuries to receive acceptance from her peers as an exorcism expert. Sister Ann soon discovers that her trial case may hit closer to home than expected in the latest horror feature, Prey for the Devil. 

    The Halloween season is an apt time to indulge in some sinister scares – although the holiday can often deliver its fair share of trite tricks (the Paranormal Activity franchise quickly ran out of gas) and taunt treats (the Saw franchise became a beloved late-October staple).

    As the latest attempt to cash in on the season, Prey for the Devil lands in a beige middle ground. Despite bolstering sincerity and competence in its pursuits, the film struggles to exercise the cliched demons haunting its runtime. 

    I will defend Prey for Devil for presenting more ambition than its disposable marketing campaign lets on. Some have trashed the film as a devout propaganda piece for the Catholic church, but I think the film captures the religious entity in a far more damaging light. Director Daniel Stamm and screenwriter Robert Zappia boldly paint Sister Ann as an ignored voice in a homogenized male community. Along with the restrictive gender norms, the church operates under rigid restrictions, preaching a unified message that sweeps some troubling developments under the rug. 

    Stamm, who helped present a similarly verbose religious critique with his 2010 breakout The Last Exorcism, also remains a compelling voice behind the camera. He draws several unnerving sequences from his imaginative effects work and well-tempered sense of delivery. The dim, shadow-ladden church halls that he and cinematographer Denis Crossan conjure become an atmospheric backdrop as Stamm uncorks a slew of engaging scares. 

    Prey for the Devil is fittingly sleek as an airtight, scare-a-minute feature. However, the film’s straightforward approach becomes a dual-edged sword. Several of the religious ruminations in Zappia’s screenplay fail to take flight, often sinking under the weight of didactic exchanges and a lack of meaningful insights. The shading of promising concepts ultimately feels like an unfulfilling tease of what the film could’ve become. 

    An overwhelming lack of personality also plagues Prey for the Devil. A few desperate twists and the film’s self-serious delivery represent promising yet ineffective tools for injecting some gravity into a lifeless narrative. Star Jacqueline Byers deserves credit for enacting some life into Sister Ann’s crusade, and co-star Colin Salmon possesses a dynamic presence as her reluctant teacher. It’s just a shame that neither actor nor the sufficient cast finds much success inside a narrative that contently goes through the motions. 

    Prey for the Devil jockeys between moments of inspiring craft and cliched contrivances. I don’t think the puzzle pieces come together as intended, although the film should work capably enough as a streaming option for horror-obsessed fans. 

    Prey for the Devil is now playing in theaters.