film reviews, interviews, features | BRWC

Author: Matt Conway

  • DC League Of Super-Pets: The BRWC Review

    DC League Of Super-Pets: The BRWC Review

    When the Justice League falls into a dastardly trap, it’s up to Superman’s loyal pet Krypto and a misfit band of superpowered pets to save the day in DC League of Super-Pets. Embracing the low-stakes appeals of an animated family film represents an amusing change of pace for DC, which is usually synonymous today with solemn and self-serious superhero epics. 

    As a kid, I enjoyed the luxury of DC joggling some of their more mature material with affectionately goofy offerings like Batman: The Brave and the Bold. I also found myself enraptured by the cheeky appeals of the old-school Adam West Batman series – with both programs highlighting the light-hearted potential resting under the surface of these usually stoic characters. 

    DC League of Super-Pets opens the door for some creative opportunities before quickly closing that entryway from its own ambivalence. Ultimately, Super-Pets translates as a competent yet aggressively mediocre family offering that rarely stretches towards the meteoric potential of skewering the DC universe. 

    How can seeing a roster of superheroes and their adorable pet counterparts be so dull to endure? Screenwriters Jared Stern and John Whittington previously struck gold with the self-referential charms of The LEGO Batman Movie, but their effort here feels like a tired mishmash of gags and references. Some jokes exclusively pander to the pratfall sensibilities of the film’s core audience, while others offer half-baked homages to some of DC’s notable low moments. Neither style feels well thought-out as the duo recycles the standard-issue mold of modern family films.

    Visually, DC League of Super-Pets adopts a charmless aesthetic. Stern, co-director Sam Levine, and their team of talented animators seem to be working on a limited budget despite the film’s $90 million price tag. Each frame here is composed without the vivid detail or expressive emotion that makes Warner Brothers rivaled competition stand out from the pack (even the straight-to-Netflix Sea Beast looked far more compelling). Instead, the film cycles through an array of bombastic action setpieces and over-the-top pratfalls that desperately lack a sense of personality. 

    I sense that most of the budget here went to the film’s all-star cast, which features a who’s who of Hollywood standouts (listing the cast would take up half this review alone). Packing animated films with a plethora of well-known talents is a formula that continues to be haphazardly embraced by studios. While it’s nice to have name recognition on the poster, most of these actors get straddled with roles that fail to utilize their distinct strengths. Dwayne Johnson, Kevin Hart, Keanu Reaves, Kate McKinnon, Josh Krasinski, and several other talents lend their voices to a project that barely seems interested in their involvement. 

    DC League of Super-Pets is too busy and weightless to detest outright. Still, the final product feels like a wasted opportunity for everyone involved. I would not mind seeing DC try to play in the animated sandbox again, but I hope a future approach imbues a little more ingenuity. 

    DC League of Super Pets is now playing in theaters. 

  • Not Okay: The BRWC Review

    Not Okay: The BRWC Review

    Dani Sanders, a social media-obsessed outcast, designs a ploy to gain new followers by faking a luxury vacation. When her destination becomes the site of a tragic event, Dani is thrust into the highs and lows of media culture in Not Okay. 

    I appreciate Blame writer/director Quinn Shephard for crafting Not Okay as an ambitious meditation on exploitation in the social media age. She is a voice with genuine promise, skillfully imbuing a colorfully frenetic style akin to the scrolling artifice of phone screens. The busy aesthetics also serve as an apt reflection of Dani – a protagonist who is ultimately a byproduct of our culture’s obsession with fame and discovering a higher purpose. 

    When the style and thematic conceits find their rhythm, Not Okay mines a few thoughtful explorations on our culture’s commodification of trauma and spectacle. Star Zoey Deutch also deserves praise for enriching Dani’s vapid persona. The actress unearths the character’s isolation and insecurities lying deep beneath her high-energy facade, while co-star Mia Isaac provides gravitas in her supporting turn as the survivor of a traumatic event. 

    Not Okay possesses relevant ideas and an expressive voice – traits that eventually go to waste from the film’s shallow perspective. The high-energy presentation style devolves into a didactic megaphone for Shephard to clunkily shout out her conceits. Her script simplifies complex societal issues into simplistic conclusions, trying too hard to create a clean solution from a society-defining problem. It does not help that attempts at satire, like the presence of a fame-obsessed stoner played by Dylan O’Brien, lack any comedic bite. 

    Shephard’s intriguing idealism also integrates familiar notions that have already received exploration in superior films. Recently, Nope offered salient commentary on the exploitation of trauma, while social media age narratives like Ingrid Goes West, Spree, Disconnected and Mainstream highlighted the dark side of internet culture with more perspective. Swimming in previously-charted territory is not necessarily a weakness. However, it eventually becomes one for Not Okay as the film reads like a truncated thesis constructed for less-demanding young adult viewers. 

    Not Okay ultimately gets lost in its ambition. Still, I applaud Shephard for her risks and am excited to see what she does going forward. 

    Not Okay is now playing on Hulu. 

  • They/Them: The BRWC Review

    They/Them: The BRWC Review

    A group of LGBTQ+ young adults finds themselves forced to attend a gay conversion camp haunted by a mysterious killer in They/Them. 

    The straight-to-Peacock Blumhouse offering is already the subject of some dismay from industry pundits, with many fearing the film could handle combustible issues in a careless light. I am happy to report that writer/director John Logan crafts They/Them with the utmost sincerity, but that goodwill does not compensate for an aggressively flat horror exercise. 

    Logan established a promising-enough foundation. The Oscar-nominated writer’s non-traditional horror background leads to a greater focus on character development as the film toils with the lingering pains of our camper protagonists. I credit Logan for representing LGBTQ+ perspectives without toxically exploiting the characters for a meaningless slasher. His approach elicits a few promising frames along the way, like a cheerful sing-a-long to a Pink track that rouses some much-needed positive affirmation. 

    Unfortunately, most of They/Them dredges in the tired formula of hokey after-school specials. The crowded character roster prevents the campers from developing an identity past one or two personality traits – a choice that truncates any meaningful sentiments into fortune cookie-level insights.

    The young cast tries their best to elevate the material, but Logan straddles them throughout with inauthentic dialogue exchanges and archetype personas. Not even the sinister charisma of Kevin Bacon as the camp’s approachable yet quietly diabolical ring leader elicits much fear or authenticity for the experience.

    As a horror vehicle, They/Them is a non-starter. Logan’s first directorial feature showcases his lack of experience in the horror genre. His flat stylistic choices prevent the film from developing any mystery or suspense, while the few horror setpieces are too cheaply-executed to inspire much fanfare (the movie does not become a horror movie until its final 20 minutes). There is merit in vying for a more subdued, character-driven horror experience, but Logan’s trite material and uninspired visuals only spotlight the film’s stiltedness.

    It’s easy to see why Blumhouse opted for a straight-to-streaming release with They/Them. Despite noble intentions, Logan struggles to imbue his unique concept with the dramatic gravity and craft it deserves. 

    They/Them debuts on Peacock on August 5. 

  • Resurrection: The BRWC Review

    Resurrection: The BRWC Review

    Resurrection Synopsis: Margaret’s (Rebecca Hall) carefully constructed life gets upended when an unwelcome man (Tim Roth) from her past returns, forcing her to confront the monster she’s evaded for two decades.

    Margaret lives her life with exacting composure. She executes her lofty job and single-parent lifestyle with her college-bound daughter in a picturesque manner. But, when a man from her traumatic past returns, Margaret descends down a pathway of unraveling mania in the Sundance 2022 offering, Resurrection. 

    Digging into the trenches of a man’s toxic grasp on a female victim is a concept as old as horror films themselves (another 2022 Sundance film, Watcher, also explored the creepy male commodification performed by an unhinged stalker). In the hands of writer/director Andrew Semans, Resurrection reinvents the familiar concept in an entrancing horror showcase defined by the singular talents of its remarkable lead actress.

    Semans, who last directed the obscure 2012 title Nancy, Please, showcases himself as an auteur to watch in the horror sphere. Every frame of Resurrection displays an assured balance of thought and craft as Semans implements expressive avenues for conjuring Margaret’s mental degradation. Alongside cinematographer Wyatt Garfield, the duo embeds viewers in her shoes through a balance of visceral techniques.

    The subdued techniques of the film’s opening moments quickly disintegrate into a flurry of kinetic choices. Resurrection encapsulates raw panic and angst in ways few films can match, often varying between dynamic camera movements and clever perspective changes as compelling cinematic tools. The use of blurred backgrounds and articulate lighting heightens the uneasy atmosphere, which is only made more urgent by the claustrophobic intimacy that Semans deploys in his framing of Margaret’s unraveling. All of these assured touches allow Resurrection to maintain an unnerving sensibility without placating to the showier, blood-soaked standards of most modern horror films. 

    Resurrection’s haunting, cat-and-mouse tale of trauma and inescapable grief is rampant with absorbing complexities. The arrival of a painful ghost from Margaret’s past triggers a wave of emotionally-driven reactions. Her fight-or-flight reflexes consume her persona, ultimately morphing Margaret into the problematic entity she tries to rid herself of as she becomes possessive of her daughter. While the film effectively ruminates on the unfair burdens women face and the lingering ramifications of PTSD, I found the experience most compelling as a depiction of motherhood’s unshakeable responsibilities. 

    None of the film’s strengths would resonate so profoundly without the presence of star Rebecca Hall. Following her evocative performances in The Night House and Christine, Hall continues displaying rare dedication as one of her generation’s finest talents. As Margaret, she imbues potent gravitas into Margaret’s gradual suffocation from her untamed burdens. It’s a remarkably expressive performance, with Hall’s skillset allowing each wild burst of emotion and manic decision to maintain a sense of humanity. 

    Capped off with a piercingly chilling final act, Resurrection ranks as one of the year’s most impactful horror entries. In a just world, we would be spotlighting Rebecca Hall’s performance come award season. 

    Resurrection opens in theaters on July 29 before a VOD releases on August 5. 

  • Nope: The BRWC Review

    Nope: The BRWC Review

    Nope Synopsis: Two siblings, OJ (Daniel Kaluuya) and Emerald (Keke Palmer), who run a horse ranch for movie stunts, discover something wonderful and sinister in the skies above, while the owner of an adjacent theme park Jupe (Steven Yeun) tries to profit from the mysterious, otherworldly phenomenon.

    An undefinable entity forms a transfixing presence in a community of entertainment industry outsiders in Nope. For writer/director Jordan Peele, exploring societal concepts through the twisted prism of horror cinema is an accomplished calling card for the comedian-turned-auteur filmmaker. The razor-sharp satire of Get Out and the haunting allures of Us catapulted Peele to meteoric heights in Hollywood – an ascension that includes an Oscar win and the distinction of creative carte blanche status with prominent studios. 

    In Nope, Peele marries his nightmarish worldview within a world brimming with horror, neo-western, and sci-fi serial aesthetics. His ambition continues to expand in breathtaking ways, and while the film doesn’t wholly satisfy its scope, it does showcase a compelling spectacle crafted with remarkable craft and intelligence. 

    Like the film’s mysterious marketing campaign, Peele shrouds Nope in a lingering sense of intrigue. The director continues to work with composed patience in his horror pursuits, orchestrating an uneasy atmosphere heightened by the unknown presence of a worldly entity. I am glad Peele’s distinctive voice remains ever-present onscreen. The writer/director continues dispensing angst as an effective horror tool and a thoughtful brush for moments of welcomed comedic levity. 

    Visually, Peele reaches new heights in craftsmanship as he draws his story with immersive scale. He and Tenet Cinematographer Hoyte Van Hoytema morph their barren desert landscape into an ominous hellscape obscured by the shadows of a lurking spectrum. The duo utilizes a few sound sources of inspiration, like the detached dread of M. Night Shyamalan’s work and the intense mood of a Steven Speilberg genre picture, as integral building blocks for creating an epic that feels equally grand and evocative. There are several indelible images from Nope that will linger with me long past the closing credits. 

    Peel’s conceptual aspirations remain an essential aspect of his cinematic oeuvre. Whereas Get Out and Us presented refined theses on closeted racism and class disparity, Peele boldly forms Nope as a narrative experience bursting with conceits at every corner. Most of the characters in Nope confide themselves in prisons defined by their various demons – whether that be the weight of a Hollywood horse-rangling legacy resting on OJ’s shoulders, the commercialization Jupe commits on his traumatic childhood acting legacy, or an acclaimed cinematographer possessed by his desire to create the so-called “perfect shot.” 

    Peele crafts a film uniquely defined by the presence of Hollywood castoffs. OJ, his ambitious sister Emerald, and Jupe spend their days in a barren wasteland as thankless cogs discarded from the entertainment industry. The sudden presence of a mesmerizing spectacle in the sky inspires each to pursue it as a prize for their sense of personal achievement. 

    Without spoiling too much of Nope’s surprises, the thematic experience culminates in fascinating portraits of trauma, exploitation, and their intersection inside the spectrum of media’s glaring bright light. I don’t think Peele’s conceptual approach is faultless. He implements one too many didactic dialogue exchanges, and the characterization here lacks the vividness to create lived-in figures – but the pie-in-the-sky ambition and moments of cathartic resonance are something to celebrate for a big-budget tentpole. I’ve grown to appreciate the film’s messy yet daring conceits the more I reflect upon them.

    While the characters are somewhat thin, Nope’s dynamic ensemble cast helps shoulder some of the weight. Daniel Kaluuya is one of the industry’s best insular performers, capturing the soft-spoken OJ’s lingering pains and responsibilities through subdued glances and reflections. In contrast, Keke Palmer provides a ray of sunshine as the personable Emerald, often commanding the screen through her sheer charismatic force. The duo’s dissident personalities mesh effectively as a sibling pair rediscovering their connection with one another. Steve Yeun also offers a fascinating performance as a showbiz huckster living off his complicated legacy (his Chris Kattan monologue is perfection). 

    Nope showcases Jordan Peele pushing his sensibility to impressive new heights in a spell-binding blockbuster experience. I hope Hollywood continues to give Peele the creative freedom he commands, as there are few in the industry pushing boundaries in mainstream cinema like him. 

    Nope is now playing in theaters.