film reviews, interviews, features | BRWC

Author: Matt Conway

  • Belfast: The BRWC Review

    Belfast: The BRWC Review

    Belfast Synopsis: Buddy (Jude Hill) is a young boy on the cusp of adolescence, whose life is filled with familial love, childhood hijinks, and a blossoming romance. Yet, with his beloved hometown caught up in increasing turmoil, his family faces a momentous choice: hope the conflict will pass or leave everything they know behind for a new life.

    Oscar season is finally upon us! After an award’s season dominated by straight-to-streaming titles, 2021 brings an exciting blend of eclectic new features (King Richard and Spencer) and long-delayed holdovers from last year (Nightmare Alley and The Last Duel). It’s an exciting time for arthouse cinema, but it’s also a season driven by overreactions and post-release fatigue when it comes to the critical Best Picture frontrunners. 

    One of this year’s early favorites is writer/director Kenneth Brannagh’s latest feature, Belfast. Crafted from Brannagh’s warm nostalgic memories amidst a city undergoing civil division, Belfast boasts the right ingredients for an awards crowdpleaser. Despite the overwhelming praise, I found Belfast to be a befuddling misfire that fumbles viable material at nearly every turn. 

    Where is the disconnect from mainstream sentiments? I attribute much of Belfast’s falterings to Brannagh, a well-intended studio-craftsman who has settled on the likes of Thor and the dreadful Artemis Fowl after crafting Shakespearian dramas. The director’s sincere ambitions lie vastly over his head with this personal, coming-of-age tale. 

    Working with Cinematographer Haris Zambarloukos, the duo struggles to craft a feature with genuine artistic merits. Much of the runtime displays thoughtless execution, often incorporating clunky blocking and inconsistent framing that relays character beats and themes with clumsy obviousness. Several visual decisions lack attention to detail, whether the duo is bizarrely framing perspective shots without relaying an actual perspective or tripping scenes up through awkward post-production ADR audio. Drowned out with a myriad of played-out song choices and an artless use of black-and-white photography, Belfast wears the arthouse veneer without understanding how to execute techniques properly. 

    Branagh’s script is similarly listless. Juxtaposing affectionate memories of Jude’s youth with the combative civil divide occurring in his hometown has genuine potential, but Branagh never gets the delicate balance right. The coming-of-age bits lack the specificity to liven the familiar ground treaded, while the intermixing of harsher undertones never finds a sensible balance between the two. For a narrative with such varying tonalities, it’s bewildering to see neither the film’s warmth nor melancholy connect on a meaningful level. 

    Branagh’s handling of vital political subtext also feels laughably overwrought, relying upon standard narrative and cinematic devices to articulate the setting’s intense religious divide. Ruminations on cultural divide couldn’t feel more timely, but reducing the conflict to background window dressing rather than delving into its overarching effects morphs the situation into a manipulative device. A dreadful third-act standoff takes the subtext to even more ridiculous lows, with Branagh lacking the meaningful insights to say anything purposeful on his subject matter. 

    My gripes with Belfast are so frustrating because the movie demonstrates impressive strengths. Stars Ciaran Hinds and Jamie Doran exude charisma and warmth as Jude’s paternal figures, while Caitriona Balfe displays the intense passion and undying strength of his beloved mother. There are sparks where the cast and narrative potential shine through the rough, although the flashes serve as an unfortunate reminder of what Belfast could have been in better hands. 

    Belfast radiates with adoration for its setting and characters, but that goodwill doesn’t equate to a well-crafted film. It will be interesting to see how reactions to this film evolve as it gains Oscar momentum. 

    Belfast is now playing in theaters. 

  • Apex: The BRWC Review

    Apex: The BRWC Review

    Apex Synopsis: Serving a life sentence for a crime he didn’t commit, former cop Thomas Malone (Bruce Willis) gets a chance to win his freedom if he can survive a twisted game. Six killers pay for the thrill of hunting Malone for sport on a remote island, but once he arrives, all hell breaks loose. Laying traps and playing mind games, he soon turns the tables on the goons who want him dead.

    In case readers haven’t been monitoring the straight-to-VOD scene, Bruce Willis has made no mystery about his sell-out intentions. The Die Hard star has endured a Nicolas Cage-esque run of straight-to-streaming stinkers, staring in six titles just this year alone. The only person more disinterested than audiences watching these half-baked efforts is Bruce Willis himself, with the former A-lister often sleepwalking his way toward another easy paycheck. 

    Writer/director Edward Drake completes his own disposable sci-fi Bruce Willis trilogy with Apex (Drake wrote 2020’s Breach and wrote/directed 2021’s Cosmic Sin). Similar to his other bargain-bin budget films, Drake’s latest bats around promising ideas before suffocating under the weight of its thankless formula. 

    Even as the writer/director goes zero for three with his Bruce Willis sci-fi trilogy, I can’t completely dismiss Drake’s effort with these features. The survival-of-the-fittest, human-becomes-prey concept is as old as time itself, but Drake finds a few amusing avenues to modernize its conceits. His cast of self-obsessed, elitist hunters, including a sociopath played with delicious wickedness by Neal McDonough, serves as a fitting representation for the callous coldness exhibited by one-percenters idly abusing their power. Drake possesses a clear understanding of how genre films of this ilk operate, throwing in a plethora of swaggering one-liners while he keeps the pace moving at a fast and furious clip.

    Similar to Drake’s other features, Apex’s failures can be attributed largely to constraining circumstances. Bruce Willis is supposed to serve as the prey for the film’s deadly hunting game, yet whether due to budgetary restraints or Willis’ lack of interest, the star barely shares the screen with his co-stars. In his sparse 15 minutes, Willis never wakes up from his coma of boredom, mugging his way through every frame as strives to maintain the bare minimum of effort.

    The star’s lack of involvement ends up becoming a hilarious running joke, as the hunters spend most of the narrative walking in circles and debating with one another rather than engaging with the film’s narrative intent. Even as someone who is sympathetic to spirited low-budget productions, Apex feels laughably defined by its deficient assets. Drake’s inclusion of gunfights and futuristic technology reeks of antiquated CGI and a lack of engaging style, missing the type of ingenuity to make the limited budget a genuine asset. In the future, I hope Drake finds a way to escape the draining dredges of straight-to-VOD formula. Each of his Willis-led features demonstrates blimps of B-movie camp before ultimately succumbing to the disposability of their low-budget production cycle. 

    Apex doesn’t possess a single moment of excitement or originality throughout its duration. There are enough unintentionally humorous gaffs to prevent the feature from becoming an outright disaster, but most viewers will be just as disinterested watching the film as Willis is starring in it. 

    Apex is available to rent on VOD platforms. 

  • Boiling Point: Review

    Boiling Point: Review

    Boiling Point Synopsis: On the busiest night of the year at one of the hottest restaurants in London, charismatic, commanding head chef Andy Jones (Stephen Graham) balances along a knife’s edge as multiple personal and professional crises threaten to destroy everything he’s worked for. 

    Bristling with intense passion and perfectionist platting, the fiery infernos of kitchen life is always apt for big-screen interpretations. Unfortunately, most kitchen-made features continue to reduce the work-hard-play-hard craft into Hollywood posturing. 

    Saccharine efforts like The Hundred-Foot Journey and No Reservation merely utilized cooking as a canvas for romantic melodrama – while the well-intended awards flop Burnt fell flat in its attempts to capture the industry’s dysfunctional underbelly. As someone with an odd affinity for cooking, I am delighted to report that writer/director Philip Barantini’s latest Boiling Point is one of the few to get the recipe right. 

    In a feature-length adaptation of his 2019 short film, Barantini opts for one-take framing to capture one hectic night in a luxurious kitchen. The single-take style can often be beneficial in its naturalism or obnoxious in its overwrought execution. Barantini thankfully finds the right balance, fluidly traversing through the restaurant staff’s varied perspectives with technical aplomb. Each frame boils with sweaty intimacy and frenetic movement, intensifying the onscreen drama without robbing the project of its rustic realism. Aside from a few vignettes that wander on like load screens, Barantini assures that his techniques never distract from the onscreen drama. 

    Boiling Point maintains another connection to its short film predecessor through star Stephen Graham. As the well-intended yet volatile chef, Graham commands the kitchen with the sturdy leadership of a well-worn cook. The skilled character actor pulls off the tough-love tutoring and vulgar rants of a true chef while also digging to the core of Andy’s foreboding malaise. Graham’s exhausted state lingers like a shadow over his restaurant staff, with the drained ensemble sharing overwhelming unhappiness with their dead-end jobs. Through the characters’ conjoined existence, Barantini and company create universal subtext around the grueling grind of working-class citizens within his largely unpretentious narrative. 

    Despite serving a satisfying dinner, Boiling Point can’t quite pull off the dessert. The narrative becomes more scripted as it goes along, drifting into Hollywoodized melodrama as the film tries too hard to excite viewers. Changing the narrative perspective from the chef’s slow unraveling to his underdeveloped co-workers robs dramatic weight from the film overcrowded second half. A fantastic finale helps mask some deficiencies, but it’s a bummer to see the film drift into theatrics that it so skillfully defies for its majority.  

    That said, Boiling Point deserves praise for honoring the day-to-day grind of his often misunderstood subjects. At its best, the film serves as an apt reflection of the overwhelming angst facing waves of overworked labor forces. 

    Saban Films will be releasing BOILING POINT in theaters on November 19, 2021, and digital and on-demand on Nov. 23, 2021. 

  • Clifford The Big Red Dog: The BRWC Review

    Clifford The Big Red Dog: The BRWC Review

    Clifford the Big Red Dog Synopsis: When Emily Elizabeth (Darby Camp) meets a magical animal rescuer who gives her a little red puppy, she never anticipated waking up to find a giant, 10-foot hound in her small New York City apartment. With her single mother away on business, Emily and her fun but impulsive uncle Casey (Jack Whitehall) set out on an adventure that takes a bite out of the Big Apple.

    It’s no secret Hollywood struggles to recapture the magic of beloved family properties. Several of my childhood favorites – Scooby-Doo and Tom and Jerry especially – have had their innate charms pulverized by the cynism of industry mandates. Far too often, these brands are viewed simply for their monetary value, with the team behind these projects presenting little understanding of what made the properties so beloved. 

    Thankfully, Paramount’s live-action adaptation of Clifford the Red Dog bucks the all-too-common trend. While modest in its charms, director Walt Becker successfully conjures the positivity and goodwill radiating from its larger-than-life protagonist. 

    Becker has enjoyed a financially prosperous yet creatively vacant career from his brand of noisily earnest family offerings (Old Dogs and the long-forgotten Alvin and the Chipmunks sequel Road Chip). His servicable competence rarely elicits much excitement, but the director’s cheerful sensibilities make him an apt fit for Clifford’s feel-good material. Becker wisely keeps cloying melodrama to a minimum, utilizing a fast-and-furious pace ample with slapstick pratfalls and warm-hearted character beats to keep kids and adults alike engaged. 

    I was also surprised by Clifford’s seamless CGI appearance onscreen. The special effects team captures the dog’s affable spirit through a variety of subtle visceral touches (his puppy-dog eyes speak volumes). Becker and his team of five screenwriters also wisely employ New York’s diverse setting to display Clifford’s effortless ability to connect the world around him. Even with a heavy dose of saccharine simplicity, Clifford generates a spirited reminder about positivity and empathy’s undying ability to improve the world around us. 

    Where most family films feature an all-star cast smugly mugging for their paychecks, Clifford highlights a charming cast of sturdy character actors. TV fixture Jack Whitehall imbues spry comedic timing as Emily’s down-on-his-luck uncle, throwing himself into every cartoonish pratfall with humorous reckless abandon. John Cleese, Tony Hale, and David Alan Grier deliver on their signature appeals, while young star Darby Camp provides a sturdy dramatic presence as the always-affable Emily. 

    All its strengths still can’t hide Clifford the Red Dog’s numerous deficiencies. The screenplay feels beige in its constructions, unsuccessfully inserting needless conflict through a goofy organization that wants to steal Clifford’s DNA for their products. Between the familiar character archetypes and by-the-numbers narrative formula, there isn’t anything here that kids and adults alike haven’t seen before. 

    That said, Clifford the Big Red Dog features a heart as big as its lovable protagonist. A refreshing embrace of sincerity over studio cynicism helps spin an agreeable romp from by-the-numbers conventions. 

    Clifford the Big Red Dog is now playing in theaters and on Paramount+.

  • Eternals: The BRWC Review

    Eternals: The BRWC Review

    The Eternals Synopsis: The Eternals are a team of ancient aliens who have been living on Earth in secret for thousands of years. When an unexpected tragedy forces them out of the shadows, they reunite against their most ancient enemy, the Deviants.

    Disney’s fruitful partnership with Marvel has sprouted an unprecedented train of success. With their own cinematic universe totaling 20+ features, the two beloved properties have reinvented the niche appeals of spandex heroes into the Hollywood market’s core draw. It seemed the MCU was impervious to financial and critical struggles…until now. 

    Featuring Nomadland Best Director winner Chole Zhao behind the camera, Marvel’s latest, The Eternals, has drawn surprisingly divisive reactions considering the talent involved. Critics and fans alike have cried foul about the film’s unsuccessful departure from the brand’s traditional blockbuster formula, showing a rare sign of stagnation for Marvel’s ever-growing universe. 

    As someone with lukewarm sentiments about recent Marvel outings (Black Widow and Shang-Chi had their intriguing ideals suffocated by MCU formula), Eternals resonated with me as a much-needed breath of fresh air. Under Zhao’s restrained tutelage, the film elicits a clunky yet wildly sincere depiction of eternal beings grappling with their human vulnerabilities. 

    I didn’t know what to expect going into Zhao’s first foray into blockbuster filmmaking, as several MCU directors have sacrificed their auteur identity to step into the brand’s homogenized universe. While Eternals still packs the usual array of bombastic setpieces and hit-or-miss one-liners, Zhao thoughtfully balances superheroes’ grand allures with her eye for meditative, character-driven beats. 

    With a team that includes a Superman-esque juggernaut (Ikaris, played by Richard Madden), a titan warrior triggered by painful memories (Thena, played by Angelina Jolie), a quick-witted Bollywood movie star Kingo (Kumail Nanjiani), a deaf super speedster (Makkari, played by Lauren Ridloff), Druig (played by Barry Keoghan), a mind-controlling man who wants to prevent humanity’s penchant for violence and discord, and Phastos (Brian Tyree Henry), a technological mastermind regretting his world-changing advancements among others, Etenerals has a lot on its plate. Zhao intelligently blends her eclectic cast into a united unit reckoning with the consequences of their powers and hard-wired responsibilities to their celestial guardian. 

    Similar to what Zack Snyder accomplished with DC, Zhao digs beneath the armor of their grandiose superpowers to tap into emotionally expressive sentiments. Her screenplay with Ryan and Kaz Firpo finds a comfortable balance between the team’s shared angst with their eternal lifestyle while also developing character-specific nuances upon that foundation. Elements like Thena’s emotional outburst and Druig’s desire to control human cruelty help establish emotive textures rarely present in MCU films – with Zhao and company capturing a dysfunctional yet sincere family dynamic from her immortal beings. 

    Even with my praise, I can still see why Eternals hasn’t connected with audiences. The film gets tripped up by the familiar early 2000’s X-Man trap – boasting far too many characters to invest in for an origin story experience. In hindsight, perhaps this material would have worked better in the patient format of a streaming show, allowing the characters more time to stew with their insecurities without choppy interruptions.

    Certain elements never really overcome the lack of development. Gemma Chan gives a commanding performance as newly-inducted team leader Sersi – but her new role and eternal relationship with Ikaris are largely brushed over despite their significance to the narrative. 

    Messiness aside, Eternals represents the kind of grand, open-hearted home run swings that Hollywood should be more willing to embrace. I left an MCU film for the first time in a while with encouragement about the brand’s potential to grow past its well-worn formula. 

    Eternals is now playing in theaters.