film reviews, interviews, features | BRWC

Author: Matt Conway

  • Red Notice: The BRWC Review

    Red Notice: The BRWC Review

    Red Notice Synopsis: In the world of international crime, an Interpol agent (Dwayne Johnson) is forced to team up with a quick-witted thief (Ryan Reynolds) to capture the world’s most wanted art thief (Gal Gadot).

    Three A-list stars and a globe-trotting narrative seem like the perfect canvas for big-screen thrills, but the advent of streaming has turned big-budget tentpoles, like Netflix’s latest Red Notice, into minor blimps in streamers endless algorithm of content. Labeled as the most expensive film in Netflix’s original content library, the potential franchise-starter is quietly rolling into theaters ahead of its Netflix debut later next week.

    Contrary to how most will experience the two-hour, madcap adventure, I decided to check out Red Notice in the theater. While the formulaic experience doesn’t leave a lasting impact, writer/director Rawson Marshall Thunder spins an agreeable romp chock-full of popcorn movie pleasures. 

    For better and worse, Red Notice generates an experience equivalent to a satisfying yet unnutritious fast-food meal. Thunder, the former comedy-helmer (Dodgeball) turned blockbuster craftsperson (Central Intelligence and Skyscraper), creates a feature that exists without a distinct identity or substantive skeleton. The plotting slapdashedly races from one McGuffin plot point to another while the central trio of stars are left to manifest characters out of their well-trudged big-screen personas alone. Thunder doesn’t do much to reenergize these barebones elements either, relying upon a stew of familiar one-liners and conventionally-shot setpieces to whisk viewers along. 

    These elements aren’t exactly a winning formula, but Red Notice spins enough breezy escapism out of its aggressively by-the-book design. Dwayne Johnson, Ryan Reynolds, and Gal Gadot deserve a large slice of the credit. The trio certainly doesn’t stretch to any revelatory places, but each presents the movie star pop that has cemented them amongst the mainstream.

    Johnson balances self-seriousness and self-awareness with his gravitating presence and smoldering gaze. Reynolds’ playful energy dishes out his usual arsenal of quippy one-liners, while Gadot comes to life onscreen as a grandstanding thief who remains two steps ahead of her foes. The three stars find a comfortable comradery amidst the chaos, playfully operating in full movie star mode without getting too cutesy within their shtick. 

    What Thunder lacks in visceral inventiveness, the tenured director more than makes up for in workmanlike steadiness. His favoritism of wide-shots is honestly refreshing in a climate dominated by flurrying handheld camera movements, as the technique allows him and Cinematographer Markus Förderer to bask in the scale of their varied settings. Red Notice flashes its luxurious budget any chance it gets, providing a hearty helping of tense gunfights and frenetic chases to compensate for what lacks under the surface. 

    Watching Red Notice’s spirited adventure imbued me with an odd sense of nostalgia. The film harkens to the kind of low-rent, movie-star driven shlock that studios shelled out weekly during summers before the rise of ever-dominating superhero films (think National Treasure or Knight and Day). Despite an entirely disposable design, Red Notice works as an agreeable start to a potential new franchise. 

    Red Notice is now playing in theaters before releasing on Netflix on November 12. 

  • Last Night In Soho: The BRWC Review

    Last Night In Soho: The BRWC Review

    Last Night in Soho Synopsis: Aspiring fashion designer Eloise (Thomasin McKenzie) is mysteriously able to enter the 1960s, where she encounters a dazzling wannabe singer (Anya Taylor-Joy). However, the glamour is not all it appears to be, and the dreams of the past start to crack and splinter into something far darker.

    From sleekly stylized actioners (Baby Driver) to the laugh-out-allure of his distinctive comedies (the Three Flavours Cornetto trilogy), writer/director Edgar Wright is rightly considered one of populist cinema’s best voices. Wright consistently imbues vibrant quirks to reignite familiar Hollywood pastiches, often matching his hyperactive visual profile with a sharp comedic perspective. 

    Wright’s latest vehicle, Last Night in Soho, finds the writer/director osmosing his voice into the hyper-stylized world of Giallo horror features. What seems like a perfect match on paper feels oddly disconnected in execution. Soho’s misguided blend of horror and theme marks Wright’s first miss in his storied career. 

    Even in a dud, Wright still conjures moments of promise. His feature works best when it basks in flashbacks of 1960s London, soaking in the uneasy juxtaposition between the era’s glamorous kitsch and the seedy behaviors lying just under the surface. The craftsman also has a blast leaning into Giallo’s array of colorful influences, with he and Cinematographer Chung-hoon Chung playing in the Giallo’s sandbox of neon-soaked colors and spectral creatures. 

    While visually proficient, Last Night in Soho feels oddly lacking in terms of a structured identity. It’s clear Wright wants to wear influences of Giallo horror, but he doesn’t descend enough into the genre’s madcap surrealism or B-movie playfulness (James Wan’s Malignant was more understanding of the subgenre’s charms). In its place, Wright attempts to use the stylistic blueprint to reflect on the sexual abuse of women that bled from the antiquated 1960s into modern times. 

    Wright and co-writer Krysty Wilson certainly have their pulse on an urgent issue. That said, the duo rarely knows what to convey with their subject matter. The first two-thirds rest solely on surface-level realities before unleashing a final third that descends into utter madness. Amidst a wave of nonsensical twists, Wright and Wilson lose any semblance of critical perspective. It ends up creating a vehicle that doesn’t have much to say besides the obvious, trailing vastly in comparison to recent features that have critiqued inequitable treatment with far more weight (Promising Young Woman and Zola come to mind). 

    The screenplay’s paper-thin thematic pursuits stand as an apropos reflection of the film’s overwhelming shallowness. I was shocked at how reliant the film was on played-out narrative tropes, from a mean-girl bully who is almost comically evil to a love interest character that’s given no agency outside of aiding Eloise. While stars Thomasin McKenzie and Anya Taylor-Joy imbue some depth from their skilled deliveries, neither character has presence outside the familiar archetypes they reflect. 

    Aside from striking some competent marks, Last Night in Soho lacks any tangible thematic or visual identity. The blur of bright colors and well-crafted setpieces can’t masquerade the overt emptiness.

    Last Night in Soho is now playing in theaters. 

  • Finch: The BRWC Review

    Finch: The BRWC Review

    Finch Synopsis: In a world decimated by harsh environmental conditions and human cruelty, scientist William Finch (Tom Hanks) maneuvers the desolate landscape with his loyal dog. As Finch grows concerned with his declining condition, he builds and trains Jeff (Caleb Landry Jones), a sentient robot who undertakes a journey on what it means to be alive. 

    Dystopian post-apocalyptic narratives are a dime a dozen, with filmmakers often sinking these tales in the dredges of overwhelming misery. Don’t get me wrong, a lot of these films are successful in their bleak approach (Children of Men and It Comes At Night extract human nuances out of their dreary landscapes). That said, several examples soak in sorrow without defining genuine purpose along the way (I’m looking at you, Bird Box). 

    The latest sci-fi dystopian tale, the former Universal-owned, now Apple+ streamer Finch, offers a refreshing change of pace. While this plucky adventure isn’t without cheesy contrivances, director Miguel Sapochnik crafts an amiable and surprisingly moving feature out of his familiar narrative playbook. 

    Sapochnik has spent the last decade as a TV craftsman (Games of Thrones and House) after his intriguing yet unfulfilling sci-fi debut Repo Men. In his big-screen return, Sapochnik displays assured touch in the film’s visual and narrative composition. He and Cinematographer Jo Willems skillfully immerse audiences in a barren landscape destitute of hope and humanity, while their adept visual effects team imbue textures into the landscape with an inspired blend of practical and CGI effects. I can’t tell you how happy I was to see sentient robots crafted from rustic practical designs, with their clunky and imperfect look making them easier to humanize compared to ever-popular CGI artifice. 

    To contrast the decaying environment, Sapochnik and screenwriters Ivor Powell and Craig Luck highlight a silver lining of hope at the end of the tunnel. Finch is as open-hearted as it gets for big-budget blockbusters, delving intimately into Finch’s internal struggles with his unfulfilled life and Jeff’s slow integration into the highs and lows of humanity. Certain scenes reek of maudlin tropes, but the favoring of gentle character beats over explosive setpieces lays a solid groundwork. Finch finds its groove when it’s most vulnerable, exploring the intimate connection between its hermit protagonist and his naive robotic creation. Despite their obvious differences, the two serve as kindred spirits who teach one another about life’s gentle pleasures. 

    Alongside a lovable dog, Finch’s narrative is carried forward by two towering performances. Tom Hanks is in movie star form as scientist William Finch, exhibiting his remarkable ability to humanize even the biggest of curmudgeons. He handles every emotional beat with raw authenticity, extracting an assured balance between broad emotional responses and subdued moments of reflection. Caleb Landry Jones continues his rise as one of the industry’s best character actors as the robotic Jeff. Voice-over performances of this nature require demanding levels of expressiveness. Landry Jones provides that energy in short order, displaying a youthful buoyancy that brings the sentient figure to life. 

    Finch doesn’t reinvent the wheel with its well-trudged narrative roadmap, but the well-tuned team behind this feature knows what they want to accomplish within that framework. Finch works as a lovable science fiction throwback that imbues much-needed vulnerability into blockbuster’s big-screen spectacle. 

    Finch debuts November 5th on Apple+ TV. 

  • Army Of Thieves: The BRWC Review

    Army Of Thieves: The BRWC Review

    Army of Thieves Synopsis: A mysterious woman recruits bank teller Ludwig Dieter (Matthias Schweighöfer) to lead a group of aspiring thieves on a top-secret heist during the zombie apocalypse.

    Mileage may have varied for some, but I love what Zack Snyder brought to the table with Army of the Dead. The visceral auteur conjured a wide range of horror and science fiction influences to create a relentless, bullet-ridden heist vehicle that wasn’t without thematic impact (Snyder and company effectively ruminate on the damaging allure of wealth). When the film found its groove, few big-budget blockbusters could top its controlled brand of mania. 

    Less than six months later, the franchise has returned with the prequel story Army of Thieves. Led by Matthias Schweighöfer as the eccentric safe breaker Ludwig Dieter, Thieves wears the influences of its 2021 predecessor while carving its place in the heist genre. While the film may not fully crack the genre’s code, Schweighöfer’s sincere adoration for this character and universe shines through the imperfections. 

    As writer, director, and star, Schweighöfer admirably defines Thieves as its own oddity. The decision to feature Ludwig in a starring role imbues new spunky energy to the proceedings, with the character’s puppy-dog good-nature and offbeat comedic streak always finding a way to engage. Thieves center its sights on Ludwig’s journey through a famed safe maker’s iconic creations – a premise that generates surprising humanity out of the character’s obsession with his craft. More than anything, I was impressed by the film’s ability to generate an ever-beating heart under all the heist machinations. The film never falls into cash-grab prequel territory as Schweighöfer crafts a genuine labor of love to his quirky, fan-favorite character. 

    Snyder’s grand visceral scale isn’t present, yet Schweighöfer embeds his personality to the proceedings. The action pops with a blend of stylized edits and inventive set-pieces, while the relentlessly-paced narrative rarely lets up on its brand of kinetic carnage. Ludwig’s new team of misfit criminals also define their place in the shared universe. The new cast also blends their cliched archetypes with vibrant streaks of personality. Nathalie Emmanuel is a standout in particular, as the actor’s effervescent charm creates an amiable confidant for Ludwig to confine in. 

    I enjoyed Army of Thieves, but the film struggles to recreate some of Dead’s best elements. As a writer, Schweighöfer’s brand of self-referential barbs endures a rocky road of mixed results. For every well-constructed joke, some bits try too hard to seem clever. Schweighöfer’s thematic touch also lacks Snyder’s deft blending of story and theme. I like the idea of continuing Dead’s ruminations on our greed-ridden protagonists, yet Schweighöfer fails to build upon the original’s foundation. 

    Inconsistencies aside, Army of Thieves is a zombie-free spin-off that elicits plenty of earnest charm. Honestly, I hope this is the first of many spin-offs for the Army series, with these films packing just as much punch as their big-screen blockbuster peers. 

    Army of Thieves is now playing on Netflix.

  • Antlers: The BRWC Review

    Antlers: The BRWC Review

    Antlers Synopsis: In an isolated Oregon town, a middle-school teacher Julia (Keri Russell) and her sheriff brother Paul (Jesse Plemmons), become embroiled with her enigmatic student, Lucas (Jeremy Thomas). Lucas’ dark secrets lead to terrifying encounters with a legendary ancestral creature who possesses a stranglehold on the damaged community. The film is an adaptation of Nick Antosca’s short story Quiet Boy. 

    The Disney/Fox merger has generated clunky conditions for the titles Fox ownership left by the wayside. Some films were reconstructed to fit Disney’s ever-present brand synergy (Free Guy and Ron’s Gone Wrong both include post-production inclusions of Disney mythos), while other high-profile titles have been reduced to unceremonious releases (Last Duel and The New Mutants hit theaters with little marketing and fanfare). 

    Perhaps the biggest culprit of Disney negligence comes with writer/director Scott Cooper’s horror debut, Antlers. Finally hitting theaters after spending a year and a half on the shelf, Antlers lumbers into theaters with its fair share of dysfunctional struggles. That said, this grisly creature feature unnerves audiences where it matters most. 

    I’ve always been a fan of Scott Cooper. His eye for rustic textures has gone overlooked in a world full of showier arthouse auteurs, with intimate dramas like Out of the Furnace and Crazy Heart exploring lingering demons through weighty deep-dives into the harsher side of human conditions. Cooper’s background makes a transition toward horror’s macabre despair a fitting change of pace – both in terms of his bleak filmmaking style and familiar thematic staples. 

    From the start, Cooper and Cinematographer Florian Hoffmeister embed audiences into the dreary muck of the small-town Oregon setting. Every frame feels covered in unshakeable grime that manifests a distinctly broken sense of place, setting the tone for a narrative that effectively delves into the shared trauma behind its three protagonists. Cooper and co-writers Henry Chaisson and Nick Antosca approach horror trademarks with a compassionate eye for character-driven dynamics. The trio’s effectively patient approach allows Julia and Lucas to develop a solemn rapport branded from the fires of adolescent turmoil. Stars Keri Russell and the skilled-beyond-his-years Jeremey T. Thomas elicit emotionally-compelling performances from their withdrawn characters – while Jesse Plemmons continues his run as one of the industry’s sturdiest character actors as Julia’s emotionally-distant brother. 

    Cooper’s immense talents come to life through Antler’s horror craftsmanship. The washed-out colors behind his Oregon setting are only made more ominous through the director’s pointed framing choices. From the endless darkness of creepy hallways to the grotesque body horror behind each bone-mangling kill, Cooper delves into the genre’s nightmare frights while infusing his sensible thematic touch. The decision to frame most of the horror from Lucas’ adolescent perspective adds a whopping punch to each setpiece. His youthful naivety conjures a premating sense of fear from the larger-than-life demons that lurk in his shadow. 

    Antlers develops a strong base, but its second-half struggles to build upon that foundation. Whether it’s a byproduct of post-production meddling or a far-too busy screenplay, the film’s ambitions lie outside the narrative’s grasp. The script’s integration of zeitgeist realities, such as the opioid epidemic and Native Americans’ displaced culture, don’t add up to much – while an airtight 99-minute runtime prevents the material from delving into the full extent of its trauma-based conceits (Jesse Plemmons’ role is the most undercut by this, with small facets being introduced before ultimately going nowhere).

    While inherently uneven, Antlers still digs under viewers’ skin through its horror and thematic approaches. I am glad the film has finally found the light of day, and I hope it finds an accepting audience eventually. 

    Antlers is now playing in theaters nationwide.