film reviews, interviews, features | BRWC

Author: Matt Conway

  • Watcher: The BRWC Review

    Watcher: The BRWC Review

    Watcher Synopsis: As a serial killer stalks the city, Julia — a young actress who just moved to town with her husband — notices a mysterious stranger watching her from across the street.

    After moving to Bucharest with her workaholic boyfriend, Julia feels lost as a cultural outsider. She spends her days wandering the busy streets, searching for a sense of homely comfort amidst her struggles in adapting. With a notorious serial killer suddenly on the loose, Julia’s isolation magnifies to a heightened state when an enigmatic stranger follows her every move in Watcher. 

    Watcher, which debuted at this year’s Sundance Film Festival, marks the feature-length debut of writer/director Chloe Okuno (Okuno previously contributed to V/H/S/94). Okuno crafts a technically refined and restrained debut – a haunting descent into predatory male culture that ably enhances its by-the-numbers formula. 

    Molded in the rhythms of alluring Giallo features, Watcher showcases Okuno as an auteur poised in her singular vision. Meaningless narrative fluff thankfully takes a backseat to Okuno and Cinematographer Benjamin Kirk Nielsen’s dynamic visceral profile. The duo capture the longing gazes stalking Julia at each turn, modulating between the sweaty intimacy of close-quarters encounters and wide frames showcasing obsessive gazes from afar. Each framing choice reflects the same smooth movement and impressive precision within Okuno’s detached color pallet. Dripping with paranoia and ominous dread, Watcher often mines its most impactful moments when allowing the wordless cat-and-mouse game to take center stage. 

    It’s no secret stalker features are commonplace in horror, but Okuno imbues the genre’s traditions with a sharp new lens. Her revision of Zack Ford’s screenplay aims at the sinister byproducts of the predatory behavior haunting Julia at every step. 

    The wordless stalker is just one of her various opponents, with the conformist culture of denial and doubt surrounding Julia’s accusations reflecting our society’s own ambivalence to severe female claims. Male hubris and misunderstanding further haunts Julia like a spectrum lurking around the corner. At her best, Okuno’s deft abilities convey the deeply-seated systematic issues surrounding victim-blaming through Julia’s experiences. 

    In a performance that requires rigid internalization, Maika Monroe continues cementing herself as a modern horror star (she’s also fantastic in It Follows and The Guest). Monroe inhabits Julia’s constant discomfort through cold gazes and subtle techniques. It’s a frequently wordless performance that still speaks volumes about the character’s pained existence. Character actor extraordinaire Burn Gorman also is fittingly unnerving as the somber stalker. 

    Watcher does endure some familiar falterings of debut features. Okuno’s screenplay reaches a screeching halt regarding the film’s dramatic finale. The writer/director ultimately opts for a straightforward approach that viewers can see coming from miles away. While the finish offers some thematic punch, the results feel more like a didactic thesis statement of Okuno’s sentiments than an artistically-inspired conclusion. 

    Falteirngs aside, Watcher delivers on its promise of atmospheric and intelligent thrills. I am excited to see where Okuno goes from here with her promising career. 

    Watcher is now playing in theaters. 

  • Interceptor: The BRWC Review

    Interceptor: The BRWC Review

    Interceptor Synopsis: Army Captain J.J. Collins (Elsa Pataky) is forced to use her years of tactical training and military expertise when a simultaneous coordinated attack threatens the remote missile interceptor station of which she is in command.

    A wrongfully disgraced army captain fights against an insurrection on America’s nuclear missile defense system in Interceptor. Writer/director Matthew Reilly aims his debut feature as a throwback to the low-rent actioners of the 1980s. It’s a well-trudged subgenre – a fixture that formerly featured star-studded romps populating theaters before eventually descending into the desperate depths of straight-to-VOD fare. 

    Interceptor finds its home at Netflix as the streamer pursues watchable, easily-digestible content amidst decreasing subscriber counts. The subgenre’s recent track record doesn’t inspire much optimism, but Reilly thankfully devises a taunt high-wire act through routine action movie machinations. 

    Credit to Fast and Furious staple Elsa Pataky for steadying the reigns. As the gun-toating commander fending off an oncoming invasion, Pataky embodies her standard-issue role with much-needed gravitas. She plays the type of by-the-numbers action hero that requires elevation from a talented star. Thankfully, Pataky imbues panache as she distinguishes bad guys and spits out machismo one-liners at a frequent clip. Co-star Luke Bracey also draws a strong presence as the smarmy ringleader of the invasion. 

    By no means does Interceptor reinvent its core design, but Reilly does a good job playing to the genre’s high-octane strengths. The one-room design allows for a compelling enough cat-and-mouse fight between J.J and her cocksure foes, while Reilly’s script adds thoughtful inclusions to enhance his formulaic structure. Backstory elements, like J.J wrestling with systematic abuse at the hands of her Army bosses, shy away from rah-rah sentimentality in favor of honest character dynamics. At the same time, Interceptor possesses complete self-awareness about the type of B-movie escapism it wants to be (a playful celebrity cameo extenuates that).

    Reilly’s hand as an action craftsman also displays promise. Working under tight budgetary restrictions, Reilly and Cinematographer Ross Emery draw enough playful sparks from the typical array of shootouts and hand-to-hand conflicts. I always enjoy actioners that favor creative set-ups over bombastic, CGI-filled clashes. Whether J.J. is stabbing foes with a gun barrel or fending off a kung-fu master, Interceptor features the type of unabashedly corny flourishes that should excite hardened action fans. 

    Still, Interceptor doesn’t ascend into action movie greatness. The inexpensive budget is ever apparent as janky CGI burdens the screen anytime the film shies away from its one-room backdrop. The script also suffers despite a few well-conceived wrinkles. Dialogue is far from Reilly’s strength, with the writer often hammering his points home through generic interplay and wooden speeches. 

    What the film lacks in memorability, Interceptor more than makes up for in disposable entertainment. Reminiscent of the type of fast-paced junk food I used to rent from video stores, Interceptor unpretentiously delivers full-throttle thrills where it counts most. 

    Interceptor is now playing on Netflix.

  • Crimes Of The Future: The BRWC Review

    Crimes Of The Future: The BRWC Review

    Crimes of the Future Synopsis: Humans adapt to a synthetic environment with new transformations and mutations. With his partner, Caprice (Léa Seydoux), Saul Tenser (Viggo Mortensen), a celebrity performance artist, publicly showcases the metamorphosis of his organs in avant-garde performances.

    The pain-inducing surgical process transforms into a new wave pop culture phenomenon in writer/director David Cronenberg’s latest, Crimes of the Future. Grotesque surgeries transforming into a tool of artistic expression, pleasure, and politicking represents a concept only Cronenberg could dream into existence. The aging director remains a singular presence in the Hollywood ecosystem, with masterworks like The Fly, Crash, and Cosmopolis drawing fascinating ruminations from their dreary dystopian landscapes. 

    Returning to the director’s chair after an eight-year reprieve, Crimes of the Future represents a return to form for Cronenberg. The project modernizes a concept Cronenberg previously devised in the early 2000s before falling apart in pre-production. Thankfully, the material’s conceits have only aged better with time. 

    Steeped in unrelenting apathy and detachment, Crimes of the Future conjures thought-provoking ruminations on our modern worldview. It’s a distinctly Cronenberg film – a feature that’s undeterred by modern sensibilities and unafraid of pushing its provocative premise to uncompromising places. 

    Cronenberg’s dystopian settings are always fascinating places to get lost in. The director drenches every frame in a dreary atmosphere, utilizing somber color pallets and precise lighting choices in his representation of a world drained of its inherent pulse. From Cinematographer Douglas Koch’s intimate framing choices to Howard Shore’s nightmarish score, every artistic choice enhances the lingering dread into an intoxicatingly visceral experience. 

    There are a seldom few auteurs that can transform indie budgetary constraints into an artistic asset like Cronenberg. Details like clunky surgical modules and bizarre evolutions of the human form take on added effectiveness through the realism of textured practical effects work. Cronenberg also showcases a deft hand in his balance of repugnant detail and unknown horrors regarding the controversial surgery sequences (they drew several walkouts during the film’s Cannes premiere). The surgeries’ grotesque shock value represent the type of raw provocation that the writer/director has effectively mastered during his career. 

    Crimes of the Future never allows its high-concept premise to feel senseless. Reveling in dystopian futures’ deeper connotations remains a specialty of Cronenberg’s work. In a landscape where surgical mutations represent a form of evolution, Cronenberg cleverly ties the avant-garde movement into our culture’s habitual actions. Degrading one’s self in search of purpose is a common theme in both realities. Saul and Caprice’s act could be comparable to exhibitors in any artform, with their existence ultimately becoming a consumable product for society’s entertainment. 

    The surgeries themselves take on a slew of meanings for each character. Whether the mutilations represent an intoxicating drug, a captivating artistic lens, a provocative form of gratification, or a tool for propaganda by external forces, Cronenberg keenly analyzes how our obsessions with synthetic facets, like celebrity, technology, and internet culture, represent our own disillusionment with the world around us. The writer/director also realizes the inherent farce in a lot of the pretentious surgery movement, including several bitting satirical barbs to counterbalance the overwhelming dread.

    Other meditations on bureaucracy’s transfixing hold on the human form and society’s overriding ambivalence also linger effectively (the connections to the ongoing abortion debate are particularly potent). It’s a testament to Cronenberg’s abilities that Crimes of the Future never feels like a didactic thesis. Instead, concepts weave seamlessly into each other as the film offers audiences several new avenues to digest for future viewings. I can see some claiming that these themes are familiar territory for Cronenberg, but his ruminations still feel piercingly relevant today. 

    A skilled veteran cast helps tremendously in selling the material’s underlying conceits. As Saul, Viggo Mortensen inhabits a decrypt presence as a canvas for surgical meddling. Donning a black cloak and weakened physique, Mortensen allows Saul’s subdued presence to magnify the torment experienced in the name of his work. Likewise, Léa Seydoux remains a compelling presence as the artistically ambitious Caprice, while Kristen Stewart’s raspy, overbearing delivery serves as the perfect encapsulation of fandom culture. 

    Crimes of the Future elicits a daring and artistically-invigorating experience from its high-concept premise. It’s a joy to see Cronenberg still throw his signature fastball after spending nearly a decade on the sidelines. 

    Crimes of the Future is now playing in theaters. 

  • Good Mourning: The BRWC Review

    Good Mourning: The BRWC Review

    Good Mourning Synopsis: Movie star London Clash gets his world turned upside down when he must choose between pursuing his one true love and landing a life-changing starring role in a major motion picture.

    Pop culture maverick Machine Gun Kelly and his oddball friends maneuver the stoner comedy landscape in Good Mourning. Making an engaging comedy for potheads and sober audiences alike can often require a tricky balancing act. While the genre features a few notable staples for both demographics (Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle and Harmony Korine’s underrated Beach Bum are some of my favorites), most modern interpretations coast by the cheap appeals of pandering to their hazy target audience. 

    Even with that considered, Kelly’s aimless detour through the glitz and glamour of Hollywood delivers an inconsistent series of unremarkable vignettes. 

    Good Mourning isn’t entirely uninspired. Writing, directing, and starring alongside Mod Sun, Machine Gun Kelly molds Good Mourning as a fitting representation of his carefree, punk rock energy. Kelly may be a frequent punching bag in popular culture, but his onscreen presence possesses an inherent likability. The rapper/rocker throws himself into colorful gags with good spirit and proper reckless abandon as his Hollywood cipher London Clash. Memorable supporting turns from Pete Davidson as an oddball valet, Whitney Cummings as an abrasive Hollywood agent, and Trippie Redd in a playful cameo also elevate a supporting cast full of eccentric personalities. 

    Conceptually, Good Morning presents surprising promise. Kelly and Sun lean into the stressful undertaking of managing the allures of a Hollywood lifestyle. Viewers can see ways that the general plotline could mirror Kelly’s own lifestyle as a celebrity wrestling with relationship drama, career opportunities, and his everyday pursuits for having a good time. Unfortunately, Good Mourning doesn’t approach its plotting with much sincerity. 

    Landon’s pursuit of happiness and Hollywood glory never exceeds past tired genre cliches. Any chances for genuine reflection on Kelly’s complicated journey receive no screentime. In its place, the screenwriting duo crafts a comedy that feels consistently haphazard in its construction. 

    Plot threads come and go without much follow-through, characters only exist as flat, one-dimensional jokes, and the whole experience lacks a consistent tonal approach. Going for an aimless sensibility makes sense for a stoner comedy, but the genre’s great entries showcase the deft touch required to create a breezy sense of amusement A few flourishes of self-reflexive humor, like a bizarrely framed ending and an appearance from Snoop Dogg as a talking joint, don’t add much either in righting a ship that mostly flatlines comedically. The overwhelming lack of cohesion should not be too shocking considering Kelly and Sun wrote the film in a mere few days.

    Kelly and Sun’s directorial approach is similarly listless. Aside from a few clever artistic flourishes, their production values lack competence and an attractive creative vision. So many scenes feel awkwardly glued together in post-production, utilizing tricks like ADR and abrasive sound choices to place a bandaid on their noticeable missteps. The middling production values never mask the creators’ lack of vision both in front of and behind the screen. 

    I give Good Mourning credit for imbuing some effort in its approach to the stoner genre. That said, Kelly and Mod Sun ultimately prove to be over their heads in a flat odyssey through slapstick hijinks. I would be interested to see what the duo can achieve in the future with a little more experience under their belt.

    Good Mourning is now playing in select theaters and on VOD services. 

  • Top Gun Maverick: The BRWC Review

    Top Gun Maverick: The BRWC Review

    Top Gun: Maverick Synopsis: After more than thirty years of service as one of the Navy’s top aviators, Pete Mitchell is where he belongs, pushing the envelope as a courageous test pilot and dodging the advancement in rank that would ground him.

    Still blazing airways as a lovable wildcard, Maverick finds himself an unlikely mentor at his famed stomping grounds in Top Gun: Maverick. The 36-year gap for this long-awaited follow-up joins a recent slew of legacy sequels. Features like Tron Legacy and Blade Runner 2049 paid ode to their predecessors in stylistically inspired reimaginings of their source material. On the other hand, some shameless attempts fell woefully flat in pandering pursuits for nostalgic glory (Ghostbusters: Afterlife and Terminator: Dark Fate). 

    Under the sincere dedication of star Tom Cruise, Maverick trails a vibrant path for blockbuster cinema. The sequel to its hokey 1986 predecessor offers a majestic thrill ride synonymous with hyperspeed excitement, serving as one of the rare continuations that improve upon and elevates its storied source material. 

    Cruise and his creative team deserve ample praise for upping the ante in practical effects work. The severely underrated director Joseph Kosinski, who fittingly reinvented Tron: Legacy into a hypotonic blend of futuristic aesthetics, crafts a film unapologetically dedicated to the old-school magic of blockbusters from Top Gun’s heyday.

    The soaring speeds of high-tech aircrafts draw unparalleled excitement in a Hollywood culture dominated by homogenized CGI landscapes. Kosinski skillfully captures each pulse-pounding movement through a balance of encompassing wide shots and intimate POV framing inside the cock pit – morphing each encounter into an electrifying showcase of grand-scale entertainment. 

    I also credit the craftsman for paying ode to Tony Scott’s famed aesthetics from the original entry. Kosinski’s thoughtful visual callbacks conjure nostalgic warmth in ways few of its legacy counterparts can equal aesthetically. 

    Maverick’s appeals extend beyond surface-level entertainment. Unlike several other legacy sequels, Kosinski and screenwriter Peter Craig construct a film that ably mirrors its predecessor’s sensibilities. The same smooth swagger and cocky exuberance are ever-present in our new array of young pilots, while Craig’s narrative approach shares a similar embrace for heightened melodrama. 

    Craig and Kosinski discover deft avenues for marrying Top Gun’s iconic bravado with enough modernization. Enlisting a charismatic supporting cast, including Glen Powell, Miles Teller, and Monica Barbaro, helps create an energized core team worth rallying behind for audiences. Craig also maneuvers the commonplace training dynamics and straightforward character arcs with enough of his own thoughtful flourishes. 

    It’s refreshing to see a legacy sequel dedicated to its old-school source material. The film successfully carries over several arcs in well-constructed manners, often building to surprising levels of emotional resonance. Both Maverick’s relationships with Iceman and the son of his former co-pilot Goose make for genuine rapports despite some familiar narrative trappings. Like a warm embrace from an inebriated friend, Maverick’s emotionality can feel clumsy at times, but the impactful reverence for its source material radiates with the utmost sincerity. 

    At the center of Top Gun: Maverick’s greatest successes lies Maverick himself. Tom Cruise embodies the character’s affably reckless persona as a clever extension of himself. As an aging craftsman who still embraces the same wild child daredevil streak, Maverick sees a wave of detractors as a challenge to push the envelope further in his passionate pursuits.

    With Top Gun: Maverick, that is precisely what Cruise accomplishes. It’s a classic movie star performance featured inside the crowdpleasing veneer of blockbuster’s former glory days. Despite warranted skepticism around his real-life persona, Cruise’s instant gravity onscreen reminds every viewer why he remains an arresting big-screen presence to witness. He carries some of the film’s best frames, including an opening sequence that speaks volumes in its simplicity and graceful serenity. 

    It’s early, but Top Gun: Maverick may already possess the summer movie title belt. An ingenious blend of craft and self-reflection helps create a cheerful crowdpleaser that will leave audiences clamoring for more. 

    Top Gun: Maverick is now playing in theaters.