film reviews, interviews, features | BRWC

Author: Matt Conway

  • New Release Breakdown: Foo Fighters, Madea, And More

    New Release Breakdown: Foo Fighters, Madea, And More

    In this edition of the New Release Breakdown, I take a deep-dive into the Foo Fighters horror/comedy, Studio 666, Tyler Perry’s latest Madea effort, A Madea Homecoming, and the pet buddy comedy Dog.

    Let’s get rolling!

    Studio 666 

    Studio 666 Synopsis: Members of the rock band Foo Fighters move into an eerie mansion to record their 10th album. Once in the house, singer Dave Grohl finds himself grappling with supernatural forces that threaten both the completion of the album and the band members’ lives.

    I am not sure if anyone had a horror/comedy from the Foo Fighters on their 2022 movie bingo card, but the eclectic rock group is presenting their talent to the big screen with Studio 666. Crafted in the vein of gore-ridden B-movie throwbacks like Braindead, Studio 666 represents a playful embrace of the macabre that’s rarely seen in mainstream films today. 

    To my surprise, Studio 666 elicits crowdpleasing charms in drove. Much of the joy comes from watching the close-knit band play off each other as fictionalized versions of themselves. The band – featuring David Grohl, Taylor Hawkins, Rami Jaffee, Chris Shiflett, and Pat Smear – conjure easy-going comedic chemistry that keeps the generic plotting afloat. 

    Studio 666 also represents a sincere adoration for its genre inspirations. Director and longtime Camera Operator BJ McDonell embraces cheesy practical effects at every turn without becoming too self-aware of his low-rent techniques. Each kill is hilariously gruesome and over-the-top, displaying genuine creativity and visceral shock at every turn. 

    Still, the film is admittedly uneven. Screenwriters Rebecca Hughes and Jeff Buhler needlessly drag out the promising concept across a 106-minute runtime. When the comedic barbs aren’t hitting in between kills, Studio 666 feels like it’s in a state of dead air. I also wish McDonell tried more to spice up the film’s standard, digitized look. Outside of the gory kills, the film’s artless appearance is more akin to a straight-to-streaming effort. 

    It’s admittedly a mixed bag, but Studio 666 delivers the good where it counts most. Grohl and company craft an infectious romp that thankfully never takes itself too seriously. 

    Studio 666 is now playing in theaters. 

    Tyler Perry’s A Madea Homecoming 

    Tyler Perry’s A Madea Homecoming Synopsis: Madea is back, and she’s not putting up with any nonsense as family drama erupts at her great-grandson’s college graduation celebration.

    Like with any iconic cinematic staple, it was only a matter of time before writer, director, and star Tyler Perry revived Madea for the silver screen. Perry’s latest endeavor, A Madea Homecoming, finds the divisive auteur letting loose amidst the less-rigid confines of streaming platforms. 

    I never quite understood the massive vitriol surrounding the Madea franchise. While Perry certainly overstretched Madea with one too many spin-offs, the core of the material represents a humorous battle between opposing generational sentiments. Homecoming operates at its best when exploring that concept with an infusion of new zeitgeist ideas, including exploring the perspective of an LGTBQ youth and a police officer receiving grief from her family in the aftermath of the George Floyd protests. Perry’s film still features the same brand of crass comedy and pratfalls, but it’s clear the auteur is becoming more sensible with age. 

    Homecoming reenergizes elements of the Madea brand, yet Perry continues to struggle in certain aspects. His screenplays never balance their playful comedic tone with infusions of saccharine melodrama, with Perry often speechifying intimate moments in an awkward flurry of wooden exchanges. The comedic barbs also remain uneven in execution. For every bitting line, Perry includes several gags that fall flat on their face, including a piece of ill-conceived revisionist history here that rivals the stupidity of the Transformers fighting the Nazis (you’ll have to see it to believe it). 

    For better and for worse, Homecoming is more of the same from Perry and company. I don’t think this effort packs enough laughs to sustain its runtime, but it’s agreeable enough to make a decent streaming diversion for fans of the Madea franchise. 

    Tyler Perry’s A Madea Homecoming is now playing on Netflix. 

    Dog 

    Dog Synopsis: With a dog named Lulu by his side, Army Ranger Briggs (Channing Tatum) races down the Pacific Coast to make it to a soldier’s funeral on time. Along the way, Briggs and Lulu drive each other completely crazy, break a handful of laws, narrowly evade death, and learn to let down their guards to have a fighting chance of finding happiness.

    The misadventures of a man and his loyal pet often present ample opportunity for humor and genuine tugs at the heartstrings. While the pet subgenre relegates to thankless TV and streaming offerings nowadays, Channing Tatum and co-writer/director Reid Carolin reinvigorate the old-school formula with Dog. 

    Unsurprisingly, Tatum’s smooth charisma carries the road trip narrative throughout. As a bubbly yet volatile former Marine reckoning with his lingering traumas, the actor skillfully conveys the deeply-seated pains existing under the guise of his personable persona. Dog finds its groove when embracing its subject’s vulnerabilities, with the story’s ruminations on soldiers, both man and pet, effectively toiling in the aftermath of trauma. 

    Carolin and co-writer Brett Rodriguez showcase a thoughtful throughline, but Dog feels too scattershot to say much of note. The screenplay opts for a well-trudged journey down road trip comedy cliches, a decision that strips the material of its humanistic qualities. As a buddy comedy, Dog exists in an odd tonal quagmire. Some pratfalls play up to the slapstick comedy while others make bizarre attempts at crasser interactions. 

    Dog just never quite finds its bark. As an admitted dog lover, I am bummed that the film only occasionally taps into the simple joys of its premise. 

    Dog is now playing in theaters.

  • Uncharted: Another Review

    Uncharted: Another Review

    Uncharted Synopsis: Treasure hunter Victor “Sully” Sullivan (Mark Wahlberg) recruits street-smart Nathan Drake (Tom Holland) to help him recover a 500-year-old lost fortune amassed by explorer Ferdinand Magellan. What starts as a heist soon becomes a globe-trotting, white-knuckle race to reach the prize before the ruthless Santiago Moncada can get his hands on it.

    The perilous adventures of Nathan Drake cemented the Uncharted franchise as an undeniable video game staple. Packaging the death-defying thrills and intriguing exploration of Indiana Jones for a modern age, Uncharted conjured a grand sense of adventure similar to its big-screen counterparts across five video games. 

    I luckily discovered the Uncharted franchise shortly after purchasing my PlayStation 4 and fell in love with its conceits. Developer Naughty Dog demonstrated a remarkable balance of pulse-pounding thrills with nuanced and emotionally-evolving storytelling. While several big-screen blockbusters tried to conjure the adventurous spirit of old-school staples, Uncharted resonated as one of the few adaptations to capture that energy effectively. 

    Considering the franchise’s success, it’s no surprise that Sony continues to attempt big-screen interpretations of Drake and his company of endearing thieves. Projects with David O. Russell and Limitless director Neil Burger involved ultimately crashed by the wayside as the brand endured a decade-plus in development hell. Like one of the lost relics Drake endlessly searches for, Uncharted seemed destined for an existence in adaptation purgatory. 

    Nearly 15 years after the first game, Uncharted finally makes its big-screen debut. Touting two Hollywood stars and a globe-trotting premise, Sony appears to set this adaptation up for big-screen success. It may rank in the dough financially, but Sony’s wayward cinematic interpretation of Uncharted reeks of cynicism and presents an inept understanding of its source material. 

    I frequently find myself in the role of a video game movie apologist, often advocating for misunderstood critical duds, like Tomb Raider and Monster Hunter, that possess an assured understanding of their source material. Viewed in the same adaptation context, Uncharted’s embrace of generic formula makes a mockery of the franchise’s noble narrative ambitions. 

    Matt Holloway, Rafe Judkins, and Art Marcum, a trio of screenwriter-for-hire personas, are dealt the complicated task of introducing the franchise to a new audience while paying tribute to its small-screen origins. It’s an assignment that the trio completely butcher, although I am sure studio tampering also played a significant role. The trio admitted to borrowing most inspiration from Uncharted 4: A Thieve’s End, which served as the last chapter in Nathan Drake’s adventure franchise. 

    Even newcomers to Uncharted can see the innate flaws in that approach. Several integral subplots to that game, including Nathan’s search for his long-lost brother, present themselves without the thematic substance that made them so effective. The movie comes off as a weirdly assembled hodgepodge of narrative beats and iconography from the games, elements that the screenplay blends into a poorly-balanced concoction of “remember this in the games” moments. As an experience, it doesn’t hold a candle to the captivating storytelling the Uncharted meticulously crafted over several games. 

    Much dismay is already out there about the film’s questionable casting choices. Spider-Man star Tom Holland serves as a capable-enough protagonist, but the actor struggles to convey Nathan’s distinct characteristics. Holland and the film neuter Nathan into an energetic puppy dog who stumbles into the life of an adventurer. In contrast, voice actor Nolan North conveyed rich textures under the character’s charismatic bravado. The games never shied away from Nathan’s selfish and egotistical falterings, which helped create a well-rounded lead for audiences to rally behind. Holland’s interpretation leaves viewers with nothing more than bland eagerness. 

    Other characters from the game come off as bizarre distortions of the source material. Mark Wahlberg is solely cast here for his marketability, with the actor’s typical machismo shtick serving zero relation to Sully’s suave personality. Where the games portrayed Nathan and Sully as intimately-entangled loners who seek solace in one another, Holland and Wahlberg relegate their relationship into a series of humorless one-liners. Sophia Ali presents some occasional charms as the enigmatic Chole Frazer, but the role strips the character of her agency and personality. 

    I can forgive haphazard adaptation choices if the film in its place creates its own inspired vision. Uncharted certainly doesn’t achieve that. Director Ruben Fleischer and his team present bland aesthetic choices that rarely liven the familiar adventure movie mold. The entire affair feels lifeless in its pursuits, sticking to the bare minimum of blockbuster formula despite adapting a canvas that’s ripe with excitement and inspired ideas. 

    Uncharted is equivalent to a bad TV pilot. The film introduces a new world of characters and ideas without giving viewers a single reason to invest. Executed without creativity or thought, it’s a film that properly lives up to the bad misnomers surrounding video game movies. 

    Uncharted is now playing in theaters. 

  • Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The BRWC Review

    Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The BRWC Review

    Texas Chainsaw Massacre Synopsis: After nearly 50 years of hiding, Leatherface (Mark Bunrham) returns to terrorize a group of idealistic young friends who accidentally disrupt his carefully shielded world in a remote Texas town.

    Whether audiences want them or not, horror remakes remain a viable commodity to Hollywood executives. Most remakes implement the same methodical approach, often meshing nostalgic homages alongside an undercutting modern edge. Several of these endeavors sincerely reenergized their storied brands, but the bombardment of like-minded reimaginings is starting to create dwindling results for the ever-popular trend. 

    Rolling in as its third brand reboot of the millennium, Netflix’s Texas Chainsaw Massacre represents the franchise’s most shameless and dysfunctional revival yet. The film, which tellingly endured a mid-shoot director change, exists as a mere shadow of its storied predecessor. Only the most diehard of slasher fans will be able to appreciate what is yet another in a long line of tired horror retreads. 

    Everything about this reboot feels wrong from jump street. Screenwriter Chris Thomas Devlin unsurprisingly takes audiences back to the harrowing atmosphere of Harlow. Following a group of socialites reinventing the town into business enterprises, Texas Chainsaw Massacre is the latest reboot to force a modernist bend alongside the countless homages.

    Neither element draws much inspiration. By envisioning every character as an obnoxious, one-dimensional cartoon, Delvin lacks humanity and genuine insights with his lackluster social commentary. Our vapid protagonists only really exist as meat puppets for Leatherface to butcher alongside his nonstop onslaught. As for Leatherface himself, attempts at recapturing the original’s haunting allure fall sadly by the wayside.

    Both plotlines feel completely dissident in their onscreen synergy, never finding a way to marry the combination into a seamless package. Mixed into a barely-feature-length 73-minute offering, Devlin and company feel like they are just throwing ideas at the wall to see if they stick. None of the modernist commentaries on gentrification and social media shallowness strikes a genuine chord, while the narrative fails to generate much excitement for its returning fan favorites. 

    As a horror vehicle, Massacre isn’t entirely toothless. Replacement director David Blue Garcia possesses a keen understanding of bloody slasher setpieces, creating enough memorable murders to keep the sinking narrative somewhat afloat. That said, a few well-placed kills still can’t mask the film’s overwhelming brokenness, with Garcia’s inspired efforts only slightly propping up a feature defined by its dysfunctional pre-production process. 

    Texas Chainsaw Massacre aspires to continue the legacy of its storied predecessor. Instead of reigniting interest in Leatherface’s murderous mayhem, this tired reboot is likely to bury the Texas Chainsaw brand for years to come. 

    Texas Chainsaw Massacre is now playing on Netflix. 

  • Death On The Nile: The BRWC Review

    Death On The Nile: The BRWC Review

    Death on the Nile Synopsis: Belgian sleuth Hercule Poirot’s (Kenneth Branagh) Egyptian vacation aboard a glamorous river steamer turns into a terrifying search for a murderer when a picture-perfect couple’s idyllic honeymoon is tragically cut short.

    The lingering intrigue built inside whodunit narratives is taking center stage in Hollywood as of late. Smash success stories on the big (Knives Out) and small (After Party and Only Murders in the Building) screens continue to reinvent mystery narrative’s traditional roots into clever new packages. 

    While many filmmakers try to reinvent the mystery wheel, Kenneth Branagh comfortably plays to the genre’s old-school roots as the director and star of Death on the Nile. As a follow-up to the sincere yet bumbling Murder on the Orient Express, Death on the Nile finds Branagh disappearing further into Agatha Christie’s idiosyncratic detective Hercules Poirot.  

    Orient Express displayed flashes of promise, showcasing lavish old-school aesthetics and an all-star cast before reducing its mystery to melodramatic theatrics. Even Branagh’s energetic performance of Poirot felt noticeably off, with the actor struggling to convey the nuance inside Poirot’s colorful design. In comparison, Death on the Nile serves as a welcomed improvement from its lackluster predecessor. 

    Branagh displays far more poise in his onscreen and behind-the-camera roles. After Murder dragged audiences into the dredges of oft-putting CGI and clumsy framing, Death on the Nile embraces an opulent streak fitting of its first-class protagonists. Branagh and Cinematographer Haris Zambarloukos bask in the extravagant excess of their socialite protagonists while also painting the Egyptian setting as a fitting canvas for intrigue. The sweltering heat of desert lands and ominous mystery surrounding each towering pyramid helps paint a setting bustling with an intense atmosphere around every corner. 

    Death on the Nile comes to life as its slow-burn narrative unfolds. Orient Express screenwriter Michael Green wisely injects human drama into the mix compared to its muted predecessor, centering his latest narrative around the steaming emotions of a contentious love triangle. The choice allows Poirot’s latest case to take on far more engaging connotations for viewers to sink their teeth into, with the life-affirming joys and tragic despair of romance woven skillfully into each narrative arc. 

    Branagh and Green balance moments of melodramatic camp and dramatic heft with an assured touch, possessing a self-aware understanding of Christie’s genre pastiche without smugly winking at its audience. I also enjoyed their inclusion of some actual backstory for Poirot. A few opening flashbacks depict the OCD detective as a sharp intellect who ultimately fell victim to heartbreak. Giving some perspective to Poirot’s quirks helps morph him into an engaging protagonist to follow, which is a huge step up from his grating presence in the original. 

    The all-star cast further elevates the proceedings. Gal Gadot and Armie Hammer serve charisma in droves as well-matched lovers with a nefarious past, while strong supporting work from Annette Bening, Tom Bateman, and Emma McKay imbue dramatic heft into stereotypical roles. Everyone in the cast displays a self-aware understanding of the film’s playful theatrics, working in unison to conjure an ensemble of bold personalities with enigmatic intentions.  

    Still, Death on the Nile endures some significant stumbles. Branagh’s more dramatic ambitions fail to conjure genuine reflection from his character’s underlying pains. It’s fairly awkward to see grand swings at heartfelt sentiments land clumsily on their face, with the writer/director still tripping under his favoring of maudlin self-seriousness. 

    It may be sincere to a fault, but I appreciate what Branagh and company accomplished with their second Poirot outing. Death on the Nile radiates opulence and page-turning tension in every frame of its clever whodunit plotline. Considering the impressive improvements from Orient Express, I would love to see what Branagh could accomplish with a third film. 

    Death on the Nile is now playing in theaters. 

  • Kimi: The BRWC Review

    Kimi: The BRWC Review

    Kimi Synopsis: Angela (Zoë Kravitz), a tech worker with agoraphobia, discovers recorded evidence of a violent crime, but is met with resistance when she tries to report it. Seeking justice, she must do the thing she fears the most: she must leave her apartment.

    Steven Soderbergh never ceases to amaze me. Few directors reinvent themselves with such poise and stylistic vigor, charting a three-decade-plus career that spans every genre in the book. From a crowdpleasing stripper melodrama (Magic Mike) to an encompassing look into the seedy drug war (Traffic), there are no limits to Soderbergh’s distinctly cerebral presence behind the camera. 

    The craftsman’s latest endeavor, Kimi, welcomes Soderbergh back to the flurried techniques of close-quarters thrillers (his last thriller, 2018’s Unsane, displayed innovation in Soderbergh’s claustrophobic iPhone camerawork). Programmed with vibrant imagery and sly intelligence, Kimi represents another masterful effort from Soderbergh, one that doubles its pulsating thriller with resonant ruminations on pandemic-era angst. 

    Several features have already attempted deconstructions on pandemic zeitgeist with mostly middling results, often fixating more on the macro circumstances over the personal ramifications lingering under the surface. Kimi brilliantly maneuvers that tendency by centering solely on its central protagonist. 

    Played with a deft balance between detached chilliness and internalized turmoil by star Zoë Kravitz, Angela finds herself locked into the confines of her well-dressed apartment. Days spent toiling away on mindless customer calls and living vicariously through outdoor window gazes feel all-too-familiar for the many of us who spent months locked inside our homes. The inclusion of Angela’s agoraphobia works intelligently to intensify her internal anxieties and suppressed traumas into a state of crippling despair. 

    Angela’s overwhelming paranoia is magnified further by the unrelenting reach of our technological society. Standing in for Alexa-esque creations, the AI Kimis present a neighborly presence that ultimately masks the devices (and their creators) more sinister connotations.

    Soderbergh and Screenwriter David Koepp analyze our technology-dependent society with intelligence and proper dramatic heft. As cameras and microphones record Angela at every turn, Kimi effectively taps into apprehensions about our devices’ ever-present shadow in our lives. 

    Where most would contextualize those sentiments into an intimate drama, Soderbergh’s lively direction repurposes his character beats into the thriller pastiche. The director keenly lulls audiences along at the start before unleashing a flurry of frenzied movements once Angela boldly exits her house. It’s an intoxicating blend of lighting and movement, borrowing from classic Hitchcockian influences while also injecting a stylized modern aesthetic. His techniques never feel weightless in their impact, with the director’s vibrant pulse always working to heighten the onscreen drama. 

    Like many of Soderbergh’s works, Kimi invigorates familiar traditions in a wholly unique package. It’s 2022’s first truly great film, a feature that carves a distinct identity without forgetting its genre forefathers. Don’t be surprised if Kimi ranks on a few “Best of” lists by year’s end. 

    KIMI is now playing on HBO Max.