film reviews, interviews, features | BRWC

Author: Matt Conway

  • The Invitation: The BRWC Review

    The Invitation: The BRWC Review

    The Invitation Synopsis: After her mother’s death, Evie is approached by an unknown cousin who invites her to a lavish wedding in the English countryside. Soon, she realizes a gothic conspiracy is afoot and must fight for survival as she uncovers twisted secrets in her family’s history.

    After discovering members of her long-lost family, Evie takes a trip to the posh English countryside for an unexpected reunion. She jockeys between awkward family exchanges and the dashing company of a local lord before stumbling upon a nightmarish family curse in The Invitation. 

    Entrenching a horror tale in the sudden emotional and cultural clash of unknown family members is a novel idea for director Jessica M. Thompson and screentime Blair Butler. Unfortunately, The Invitation lures viewers into a tedious and scare-free horror offering that falters from its distinct lack of personality. 

    Audiences will likely feel an oppressive sense of deja vu while sinking into the film’s lifeless energy. Butler’s screenplay shares narrative similarities with other fish-out-of-water stories on class disparity, like Ready or Not or Get Out. Unlike those articulate features, The Invitation rarely engages with its thematic tenants. Butler seems to reckon with the central idea at points, but the film’s follow-through is vacant of any meaningful sentiments.

    Instead, the film drags viewers into a predictable narrative web lined with drab characters and stiff dialogue exchanges. The deficiencies become a running joke when the flatlining romance between Evie and the mysterious lord Walter comes into play. For a plot line that ends up eating a significant portion of screen time, their camaraderie remains stilted and overwrought throughout. None of the character dynamics elicit a reason for the audience to feel attached. I give star Nathalie Emmanuel considerable credit for making Evie a personable and dynamic horror final girl through the screenwriting restrictions. However, seeing the upcoming actress straddled in a horror vehicle that lies far beneath her talents is a letdown.

    Once the reunion takes a turn for the macabre, The Invitation lags a few steps behind audiences as it stumbles through its execution of a promising-enough third-act twist. Thompson, who follows up her successful indie debuts Light of the Moon, struggles mightily in her transition to horror aesthetics. Every scene muddies itself in a murky blue shadow of shoddy lighting choices – articulating an artless vision that Thompson and Cinematographer Autumn Eakin seem all too content operating within. 

    There’s no dreary atmosphere or intense build-up of unrelenting tensions to mask the screenwriting woes. When Thompson tries to indulge in the visceral horrors, her dated techniques, including clunky uses of slow-motion and thoughtless framing choices, rarely capture the genre’s haunting allures. Funny enough, The Invitation barely even feels like a horror film for most of its initial 104-minute runtime. The narrative sort of just meanders along before concluding with one of the most rushed and apathetic climaxes in recent memory. 

    The Invitation is a proposal that not even diehard horror fanatics should consider. If you are desperate for some summer scares, I think most would be better off checking out Fall or the masterful Nope instead. 

    The Invitation is now playing in theaters. 

  • Me Time: The BRWC Review

    Me Time: The BRWC Review

    Me Time Synopsis: With his family away, a devoted stay-at-home dad (Kevin Hart) enjoys his first me time in years by joining his hard-partying old friend (Mark Wahlberg) on a wild birthday adventure. 

    A stay-at-home dad receives a blast from the past when reconnecting with his wild-child friend in the buddy romp Me Time. Comedies continue to exist on an uneasy playing field in Hollywood as studios devalue the genre’s standing in big-screen settings (The Lost City represents one of the only major studio comedy releases). 

    The trend’s gradual impact has turned Netflix into one of the most consistent purveyors of laugh-centric material. Noteworthy multi-picture deals with the likes of Adam Sandler, Melissa McCarthy, and Kevin Hart allow the streamer to corner an untapped market for breezy comedies. These star-studded offerings may appeal to Netflix’s algorithm-based formulas, but the final products often feel like factory-assembled vehicles that rarely expand past their generic design. 

    Unfortunately, Me Time stumbles down a similar pathway. While the competent final product thankfully rises above some of the streamer’s worst offerings (looking at you, The Man From Toronto), Me Time ultimately renders a creatively vacant exercise in comedic futility. 

    There are pieces of an amusing farce on display here. Hart and Mark Wahlberg share a dynamic rapport as best friends divided by their dissident lifestyles. Wahlberg’s bravado has always been better suited for the silly allures of comedies, while Hart articulates his boisterous persona with enough charm and personability. Me Time mines its best moments when it’s at its most down-to-earth. Seeing Hart’s single father character stumble his way through an eventful week of home-alone activities presents hearty laughs drawn from relatable situations. 

    Like most Netflix-produced comedies, Me Time eventually falters by not trusting the material’s inherent strengths. I Love You Man writer/director John Hamburg infuses his personable tale with several over-the-top gags that strain themselves out of desperate attempts to draw laughs. Encounters with a turtle and a 90’s-esque CGI lion feel aggressively clumsy in their repurposing of cliched comedic pratfalls. In addition, the contrived setpieces add an air of artificiality that prevents the material from ever striking a genuine chord with viewers. 

    I don’t understand why comedies are so contently embedded in this exhaustive “studio comedy” mold. Along with an array of overworked setpieces, Me Time haphazardly indulges in every melodramatic narrative cliche in the book. Not a second of the film’s recycled plot beats or last-second revelations render personable reactions from viewers. One day, I hope creatives and studios alike evolve the genre’s structure rather than lazily going through the motions. 

    Me Time is passable enough- although the final product will likely fade from viewers’ memory banks almost immediately after watching. Let’s hope Netflix is willing to take a few more risks in the future with these star-studded efforts. 

    Me Time is now playing on Netflix. 

  • Three Thousand Years Of Longing: Review

    Three Thousand Years Of Longing: Review

    Three Thousand Years of Longing Synopsis: On a trip to Istanbul, a lonely scholar (Tilda Swinton) discovers a Djinn (Idris Elba) who offers her three wishes in exchange for his freedom. Based upon the short story “The Djinn in the Nightingale’s Eye” by A.S Byatt.

    A professor of literature and lore discovers the magic presence of a wish-granting Djinn in Three Thousand Years of Longing. For writer/director George Miller, Longing represents another inventive shift towards a new sensibility. The auteur previously ignited the grunge, thrill-seeking bombast of the Mad Max franchise before winning an Oscar for his wholesome family feature Happy Feet. 

    Seven years after Miller struck gold with the seminal actioner Mad Max: Fury Road, the writer/director embarks on an intriguing recontextualization of familiar fairy tale tropes with Longing. Part intimate drama, part anthology of fable-esque fantasy, the film symbolizes an ambitious swing at the plate for Miller. Even if all the pieces don’t quite come together, Three Thousand Years of Longing registers an invigorating blend of imagination and intellect. 

    A well-matched pair of movie stars helps tremendously in setting the stage. Tilda Swinton effectively conveys the book smart neurosis of her timid scholar protagonist Alithea while ensuring that the character’s quirks never overshadow her inner insecurities. Idris Elba also elicits intrigue and an oppressive sense of yearning as the Djinn stuck in an endless cycle of possessive captors. Both actors connect effectively onscreen as they develop a bond forged by untraditional circumstances. 

    With his modernist take on the owner vs. servant fantasy trope, Miller’s electric presence behind the camera radiates in full force. The director lets his inventive voice shine throughout with swooping camera movements, dynamic color pallets, and a plethora of out-of-the-box visual creations. Thankfully, the stylistic quirks always feel well-integrated within the narrative experience. Each frame of wistful fantasy helps accent a macabre atmosphere as the characters slowly dig into Djinn’s century-old crusade for freedom. 

    I also praise Miller for creating a distinctive sandbox brimming with dynamism around every corner. In a Hollywood landscape where fantasy narratives are exclusively aimed at family or blockbuster audiences, Miller’s stylish visual bend conjures a surrealist vision enriched by its endearing eccentricities, Some of his visual and narrative choices may alienate more traditional audiences, but I am glad Miller crafts a film that unabashedly swims against the industry’s conformist trends. 

    My praise aside, I can see where viewers’ mixed reception derives from. Three Thousand Years of Longing carries some glaring imperfections. Miller and co-screenwriter Augusta Gore ambitiously try to piece together the source material’s respective arcs and its undercurrent of intriguing observations. Unfortunately, the pie-in-the-sky vision never receives the gravity it desperately seeks. 

    Ruminations on humanity seeking solace in mythmaking and the exploitation of an enslaved victim are noteworthy on paper – they just struggle to connect cohesively on the screen. The lack of meaningful substance or emotional core keeps the viewer out of lockstep with Longing’s noble pursuits at times. Additionally, the screenplay generates moments of didactic clunkiness as it misguidingly spells out its grand aspirations. I wish the script trusted the evocative imagery to carry the thematic weight rather than speaking down to its audience. It all culminates in a finale that falls flat in its wayward attempts to evolve the characters.

    Three Thousand Years of Longing endures a roller coaster ride during its uneven run time. That said, I appreciate the infectiously inventive spirit on display here. Longing ultimately redefines fantasy lore in a bold and surprisingly reflective genre switch-up. 

    Three Thousand Years of Longing is now playing in theaters. 

  • Spin Me Round: The BRWC Review

    Spin Me Round: The BRWC Review

    Spin Me Round Synopsis: When the manager of an Italian restaurant chain wins the opportunity to attend the franchise’s educational immersion program in Italy, what she thought would be a romantic getaway devolves into chaos and catastrophe.

    A straight-laced manager at a generic Italian restaurant chain undergoes an unexpectedly wild work retreat in Spin Me Round. Writer/director Jeff Baena may not be a household name yet, but the auteur is already someone well-entrenched on my movie radar. With clever features like Horse Girl and Joshy, Baena reinvented the fundamentals of breezy, mumblecore indies in exciting new contexts. There is something fascinating about Baena’s work; his films always feel like they are in a constant state of evolution as his character undergoes unexpectedly complex journeys of self-discovery. 

    With Spin Me Round, Baena jampacks a cast of all-star comedic talents in a romp through the seedy practices of a generic restaurant chain. The journey is a fascinating and sharp odyssey through human artificiality, even if the final product can’t quite capitalize on its intriguing thematic conceits. 

    The set-up here is frankly brilliant. After widdling away at the fictional equivalent of a low-rent Olive Garden, our protagonist Amber sees an upcoming work retreat as a much-needed relaxation opportunity. Instead, the trip confronts her with the oppressive artifice existing on the surface of her dead-end job. Amber and her peers of vapid managers spend the trip stuck on a loop of corporate practices, whether they’re learning the traditions of Italian cuisine despite the restaurants’ soullessly manufactured products or enduring haphazardly constructed meet-and-greet exercises. 

    Baena and star/co-screenwriter Allison Brie mine equal measures of humor and thought from their concept. The script constantly plays with viewers’ expectations as Spin Me Round descends into a farce of the wistful fantasies we aspire to achieve – and oftentimes the unfulfilling reality that confronts us in its place. Similar to their screenwriting effort with Horse Girl, Brie and Baena embrace an aimless narrative approach that fits its material like a glove. It’s impressive how seamlessly the film wrestles with concepts without having to structure its conceits rigidly. 

    Ultimately, Spin Me Round works best as an uproarious showcase for its talented comedic ensemble. Baena directs the film like a veteran composer – offering subdued guidance while trusting his multitude of talents to play their parts skillfully. Tim Heidecker is hilariously aloof as an egotistical manager; Zach Woods taps into his distinctively manic edge as someone discovering the retreat’s nefarious practices; Molly Shannon conjures a magnetic force of nature performance as a self-centered Karen, and Alessandro Nivola imbues charisma into the restaurant chain owner’s quietly pathetic insecurities. All of these quirky personas are thankfully grounded by Brie’s immense talent. The actress carries equal measures of snark and humanity into Amber’s everywoman persona. 

    Spin Me Round kept me wholly entranced – until the overdone third act. Baena and Brie transform the humorous yet modest tonal approach into outright farce territory once a big plot reveal comes into play. For me, this decision ends up spelling out the film’s undertones in a clunky manner beset with hit-or-miss pratfalls. The finale, thankfully, feels satisfying enough, but I can’t help feeling that the script could have assembled an even more deft and compelling statement. 

    I still had a blast with Spin Me Round and its unique comedic approach. Baena and Brie craft a well-composed comedy that possesses more bite than what may appear at the surface. 

    Spin Me Round is now playing on VOD and on AMC+ 

  • Beast: Another Review

    Beast: Another Review

    Beast Synopsis: Recently widowed Dr. Nate Daniels (Idris Elba) and his two teenage daughters (Iyana Halley and Leah Jeffries) travel to a South African game reserve managed by Martin Battles, an old family friend, and wildlife biologist. However, what begins as a journey of healing soon becomes a fearsome fight for survival when a lion, a survivor of bloodthirsty poachers, begins stalking them.

    A sincere yet work-oriented family man must protect his family from a lethal lion out for vengeance in Beast. The survival of the fittest rush behind close-quarters thrillers is a cinematic staple as old as summer blockbusters themselves. Ever since Steven Speilberg transformed tranquil ocean seas into a shark-infested hellscape with Jaws, Hollywood continues to mine palpable tension from death-defying encounters between man and creature. 

    Set amidst the scorching African landscape, Beast plays into the subgenre’s sensibilities with a keen understanding of its appeals. The final product provides a ferociously captivating slice of B-movie entertainment for late-summer audiences. 

    It would have been easy for Beast to comfortably operate in the looming shadow of its notable forefathers. While the movie does adhere to some conventions, director Baltasar Kormákur reinvigorates tried and true formula from the gritty textures of his realistic approach. Kormákur, the overlooked craftsperson behind similar survivalist thrillers like Adrift and Everest, possesses an aesthetic identity outside of Hollywood’s typical bombast. 

    He and his creative team maintain patient control of the narrative’s gradual build-up, exhibiting exacting precision as an everyday situation morphs into a nightmarish reality. The mix of Director of Photography’s Baltasar Breki intimate, sweat-induced visuals and Composer Steven Price’s atmospheric score also help construct a sense of palpable unease. 

    Once the hard-hitting action arrives, Kormákur delivers a gleefully relentless roller coaster ride. The director takes full advantage of the carnage concentrated in his high-concept premise, constructing several inventive setpieces that bristle with energy and suspense. Each violent clash comes to life with unrelenting urgency. The whiplash camera movements and bloodied imagery develop an authentic state of danger – even as the characters find themselves in exceedingly far-fetched situations. The idea of seeing Idris Elba wrestle against a lion may sound incredibly silly on paper, but it’s the genuine commitment Kormákur makes to the material that effectively sells the conceit. 

    Beast would not boast the same allures without Elba’s assured presence. The actor delivers a movie-star performance in the best possible sense, effectively inhabiting his everyman protagonist Nate with dynamic charisma and proper gravitas. Even as the film dredges into familiar territory with its familial melodrama, Elba and his expressive vulnerabilities prevent the material from feeling false. Co-stars Iyana Halley and Leah Jeffries also enrich their standard-issue roles as Nate’s daughters, while Sharlto Copley imbues conviction into his part as a local anti-poacher. 

    The distinct strengths of Beast help curb the film’s inherently workmanlike qualities. Jaime Primak Sullivan and Ryan Engle collaborate on a screenplay that comfortably goes through the motions without elevating its tired mechanics. The performances and direction help tremendously in re-energizing these age-old contrivances, but the material’s generic origins can still be seen from the viewers’ periphery. I also wish the screenplay did more to touch upon its poacher undercurrent. The vital topic ends up getting reduced to meaningless window dressing despite its relevance. 

    Still, Beast is the type of relentless popcorn film that the summer movie season is made for. I had a blast sinking my teeth into this dopey thrill ride, and I hope Hollywood continues to keep this subgenre afloat in cineplexes. 

    Beast is now playing in theaters.