film reviews, interviews, features | BRWC

Author: Matt Conway

  • Matt’s Fall TV Show Reviews

    Matt’s Fall TV Show Reviews

    With cinemas still finding their footing amidst the pandemic, TV has provided audiences a treasure trove of rich programs. Even as someone who isn’t as enveloped in the world of the small screen, I’ve still had the pleasure to watch a medley of intriguing shows. Let’s break them down!

    What If…? (Season 1) – Available on Disney+ 

    The MCU’s TV debut has been a mixed bag. WandaVision, Loki, and Falcon and Winter Soldier each showcased the properties big-screen charms in a refreshing new formula. However, each series endured its fair share of structural difficulties (Falcon and Winter Soldier was the biggest perpetrator of this issue, truncating a busy storyline into an all-too brisk six episodes). The MCU’s first anthology series, the imaginatively animated What If, endures a similar roller coaster ride. 

    Placing audiences in an altered timeline full of eccentric changes, What If showcases a deft balance of playfulness and surprising grit with its creative freedom. When the two tonalities congeal, the byproduct is an invigorating switch-up from the brand’s all-too conventional formula. From Shanon Carter becoming Captain Carter to the Avengers transforming into flesh-eating zombies, the show cleverly embraces its altered timeline while providing a strong reason to reinvest in familiar territory. The show’s comic book-esque animation style also fits the property like a glove. Head Animator Stephan Franck and his team vibrantly draw together setpieces that push the MCU’s creative limits to bold new heights. 

    What If always intrigues, but the show could certainly make some improvements ahead of Season 2. The episodes so far have been hit-and-miss in their execution of intriguing concepts, with their narratives often being too jam-packed for their tight 30-minute runtime. Episode 3 is perhaps the biggest perpetrator of this issue, presenting a world where the Avengers never existed without doing much creatively with it. Some episodes also build to a crescendo that’s never realized, often concluding in the heart of their dramatic climaxes. 

    That said, What If impresses as a visceral redux of the MCU’s well-trudged blueprint. I hope Disney takes more chances like this with their future programs. 

    Ted Lasso (Season 2) – Available on Apple+ 

    Everyone’s favorite high-spirited football coach returns in Ted Lasso Season 2. While the follow-up season has endured some peculiar backlash on the internet (whenever something becomes extremely popular, the hatters are bound to come), the show has shown impressive growth from its inaugural season. 

    Ted and company still share the same sunny disposition, but this season intelligently delves beneath the surface of Ted’s bright ethos. The writing team challenges characters with authentic conflicts, delving into zeitgeist issues like mental health and athlete advocation without simplifying their dramatic weight. The decision to build upon the first season rather than sticking to the show’s strengths allows for a beautiful evolution to occur onscreen. 

    The ensemble also continues to be one of the best in TV. Jason Sudeikis showcases impressive dramatic touch on top of Ted’s humorous, pun-filled energy. Season 2’s more ambitious scope allows the supporting cast to gain more dimension with their roles. Hannah Waddingham and Juno Temple continue to build upon their charismatic chemistry; Brett Goldstein is a scene-stealer as the lovably menacing Roy, and Phil Dunster does an impressive job digging at the core of Jamie Tartt’s ego. I could go on listing actors, as everyone in the ensemble is well-tuned into the show’s fast-flowing frequency. 

    Does everything about Season 2 work? Not quite. A few subplots, particularly one involving assistant coach Nathan’s inflated insecurities, don’t quite connect as well as they should. Those blemishes are minor dents in the show’s brilliant balance between humor and empathy. I already can’t wait for Season 3. 

    White Lotus (Season 1) – HBO Max 

    Writer/director Mike White’s satirical edge moves to the small-screen in White Lotus. By basking in the tranquil glow of his luxurious tropical setting, the show takes to task elitist privilege and humanity’s animalistic tendencies through its cast of superficial characters. White’s balance of broad gags and deft oneliners helps balance the comedic tonality, while the material’s garish array of personalities opens the door for some fantastic performances. 

    I am sure we will be hearing Jennifer Coolidge and Murray Barlett’s names come Emmy time next year. Coolidge’s ditsy comedic touch and child-like insecurity create a fascinating figure to follow. On the other hand, Barlett exists as the soul of the show, representing the depressing reality of working-class people suffocating under their oppressive environment. The always-excellent Connie Britton, Steve Zahn, and Jake Lacy all shine in their shallow roles – with Lacy making a notable impression as the equivalent of a male “Karen”. 

    White Lotus is wholly entertaining, but its waters aren’t as deep as they could have been. White lays out potent thematic ideals that humorously take our vapid culture to task. While the humorous barbs remain consistent, the writing struggles to flesh out nuanced perspectives – especially with its diverse cast of marginalized workers (Natasha Rothwell is great as the hotel’s massage consultant, but her character renders into a plot device at points). 

    Still, I enjoyed reveling in the mucky pit of emptiness that White Lotus presents to TV audiences. I am curious to see how White changes the formula up with Season 2. 

    Thanks for reading these TV reviews. I will be updating this article with reviews for Star Wars: Visions and The Morning Show soon! 

  • The Eyes of Tammy Faye: The BRWC Review

    The Eyes of Tammy Faye: The BRWC Review

    The Eyes of Tammy Faye Synopsis: In the 1970s, Tammy Faye Bakker (Jessica Chastain) and her husband, Jim (Andrew Garfield), rise from humble beginnings to create the world’s largest religious broadcasting network and theme park. However, financial improprieties, scheming rivals, and a scandal soon threaten to topple their carefully constructed empire.

    Religion’s pristine image often hides a culture of malpractice and emotional suppression, with both themes taking center stage in Michael Showalter’s The Eyes of Tammy Faye. As a long-awaited passion project from star Jessica Chastain (she purchased the rights back in 2012) – I can see where Tammy Faye’s so-strange-its-true story could have big-screen appeal. Under the hood of this polished, awards-ready evangelist story, Showalter’s lack of identity prevents his feature from saying anything of note. 

    Chastain’s love for Tammy Faye’s colorful presence radiates in full force. The actress seamlessly disappears into the garish make-up and boisterous personality Tammy Faye effortlessly embodied. It would have been easy for her to slip into an overeager caricature, but Chastain’s deft touch finds the broken insecurity under the character’s smiling presence. Andrew Garfield is fittingly smarmy as Jim, balancing the character’s personable TV persona with a dark menace that lies just beyond the screen. 

    Even when The Eyes of Tammy Faye doesn’t click, Showalter’s feature shows glimmers of good intentions. As the title suggests, Abe Sylvia’s narrative frames itself inside the naive yet well-intended mind of its titular subject. Her superficial existence makes a fitting canvas for pointed satire on the church’s artificial facade – with the duo presenting a culture of acceptance and community while hemorrhaging luxury from unsuspecting patrons. Cinematographer Mike Gioulakis aids the narrative device through clever techniques. His utilization of distant framing choices helps portray the corruption that existed outside of Tammy’s grasp. 

    While admittedly amusing, Tammy Faye doesn’t cut deep enough into its relevant subject matter. Mocking the church’s superficial and bigoted practices should open up a bounty of pointed comedic opportunities – and while the film occasionally works in a few subdued barbs, most of the narrative plays out without proper introspection. The film is ultimately far too timid for its own good, not having much bite toward religious culture aside from obvious observations.

    There’s a general lack of insight preventing Sylvia’s screenplay from digging beneath the surface. The performers certainly do their best to inhabit the Fayes’ layered personas, but those quiet moments are brushed past in a favoring of breezy aesthetic choices. Showalter’s trademark competence as a director feels like a poor match for the material’s substantive undertones. Instead of zeroing on the premise’s complexities, Showalter empties the book of played-out biopic cliches as he briskly pushes audiences along without building upon the film’s foundation. There are montages and over-eager score choices galore as the film lays its cards out without dramatic grace or impact. 

    The Eyes of Tammy Faye’s safe delivery showcases the footnote version of its fascinating true story. I recommend viewers interested in the subject should seek out the 2000 documentary of the same name instead. 

    The Eyes of Tammy Faye is now playing in theaters. 

  • Cry Macho: The BRWC Review

    Cry Macho: The BRWC Review

    Cry Macho Synopsis: A one-time rodeo star and washed-up horse breeder (Clint Eastwood), takes a job from an ex-boss to bring the man’s young son home and away from his alcoholic mom. Crossing rural Mexico on their back way to Texas, the unlikely pair faces an unexpectedly challenging journey, during which the world-weary horseman may find his sense of redemption through teaching the boy what it means to be a good man.

    At 91-years young, Clint Eastwood’s iconic career continues to chug along. His grizzled presence will forever remain a fixture in Hollywood’s history, but actor-turned-director has endured some struggles during the twilight of his career. Well-meaning features like 15:17 To Paris, Sully, and Richard Jewell have reduced Eastwood’s vast skillset to dramatically middling showcases. 

    Eastwood’s latest, Cry Macho, delivers the star’s long-awaited return to acting. There’s a quiet poeticism at the core of Macho – a neo-western that connects Eastwood to the genre he spotlighted during his heyday. While the film presents innate promise, wishy-washy execution hinders this road trip from ever taking off. 

    Even with the film’s misgivings, Eastwood remains a singular force onscreen. As the washed-up former cowboy Mike Milo, Eastwood gravely voice imbues longing with every reflective remark. The character’s inner turmoil balances effectively through the actor’s deft comedic touch. Few deliver sharp one-liners with such gritty panache – as Eastwood showcases the movie star energy that has driven his esteemed 60+ year-career. Co-star Eduardo Minett also holds his own as Rafo, sharing a genuine rapport with Eastwood that slowly builds from their initial distrust.

    I can see why Cry Macho was an intriguing proposition for Eastwood, as the film presents itself as a subversive, neo-Western take on Mike’s (and Clint’s) legacy amidst their waning years. When screenwriters Nick Schenk and N. Richard Nash lean into this conceit, the duo extract moments of gentle poignancy from the actor’s spiritual connection with our washed-up protagonist. Eastwood and Cinematographer Ben Davis also elicit quiet beauty from their clever repurposing of Western iconography – often finding rustic glimmers of life within each worn-down location. 

    Cry Macho is perhaps Eastwood’s best effort since American Sniper, yet the project still struggles to play to its strengths. Schenk and Nash lay out a promising narrative blueprint – only to throw several bumpy narrative detours along the way. Constant interjections from emptily menacing foes often detract from the film’s quieter appeals, with the film coming to a halt every ten minutes or so to introduce a needless sense of conflict. It’s a shame that the screenwriters don’t trust their material enough to embrace its thoughtful nucleus. 

    For a film that flashes moments of meditative insights, Cry Macho settles far too often on inert melodrama. The script leaves most of the heavy lifting on the performers to dig under the surface of their rigid facades. There are scenes where that strategy works well enough, but the simplistic writing reduces everything to mild pleasantness rather than providing a genuinely moving experience. 

    Cry Macho doesn’t work as intended, although the film’s breezy qualities do pack a certain allure. It’s a suitable low-investment watch for HBO Max users looking to drift along with Clint for two hours. 

    Cry Macho is now playing in theaters and on HBO Max.

  • Blue Bayou: The BRWC Review

    Blue Bayou: The BRWC Review

    Blue Bayou Synopsis: Antonio LeBlanc (Justin Chon) is a Korean adoptee raised in a small town in the Louisiana bayou. He’s married to the love of his life, Kathy (Alicia Vikander), and raising his beloved stepdaughter, Jessie. Struggling to make a better life for his family, he must soon confront the ghosts of his past after learning that he could be deported from the only country he’s ever called home.

    Similar to his Twilight peers, jack-of-all-trades Justin Chon has settled into his artistic comfort zone. Chon undertook a steady transition into writing/directing projects, with his first two features, Gook and Ms. Purple, intelligently confronting personal and societal dynamics with a visceral touch.

    Chon’s latest project, Blue Bayou, takes a pertinent deep dive into the world-shattering ramifications behind the US’s proactive deportation efforts. Although not without some structural clumsiness, Blue Bayou affectionately wears its heart on its sleeve in an empathetic and resonant take on an all-too-common reality.

    Three features into his career, Chon has already developed a distinctive voice behind the camera. Cinematographers Ante Cheng and Matthew Chuang team with Chon to construct viscerally intimate handheld camerawork. I love how the camera effortlessly swoops and flows like a character in the story. During Antonio’s moments of radiant joy and debilitating pain, the trio’s deft touch skillfully immerses viewers with affecting results. I give the craftsmen credit for never descending into overly mawkish tendencies – as Blue Bayou consistently balances vibrant visuals with a gentle, dramatic touch (a few subversive dream sequences also add a level of meditative beauty).

    Chon’s screenplay spells its message loud and clear against the needless deportation of adoptees. While the screenwriter effectively integrates his societal quandary, it’s the nuances Chon captures under the surface that prove most impactful. The script effectively digs into the shadowing burden that follows Antonio in his day-to-day existence as an immigrant. As he weathers a storm of casual racism and challenges an ex-convict, Antonio’s most pressing struggle occurs within the character’s longing for a sense of home. Chon’s screenplay admirably wrestles with these conceits while avoiding the Hollywood theatrics that often defines films of this ilk. 

    The well-articulated themes come to life through Blue Bayou’s vibrant performances. Chon steeps himself sincerely into Antonio’s insular struggles, with the actor unearthing subdued textures from his range of worn-out and expressive reactions. While she may occasionally struggle with the New Orleans accent, Oscar-winner Alicia Vikander imbues potent gravitas as Antonio’s committed wife. Longtime character actor Linh Dan Pham shines as the standout of the bunch, reflecting equal parts empathy and despair as Antonio’s newfound acquaintance.

    Blue Bayou earns its numerous tugs at the heartstrings, but some of the film’s execution comes with some unevenness. Chon’s screenplay can often feel didactic with some of its over-pronounced devices. Some characters – particularly a scuzzy police offer played with mustache-twirling menace by Emory Cohen – exist only to shout the film’s messages aloud. The loose plotting also suffers from moments of languid pacing, including a third act that takes several detours before its heart-wrenching conclusion. 

    Even with some foundational struggles, Chon’s dedication to his subject matter is ever-present in Blue Bayou. The writer/director/star effectively spotlights a long-overdue conversation with equal parts heart and empathy. 

    Blue Bayou is now playing in select theaters.

  • Copshop: The BRWC Review

    Copshop: The BRWC Review

    Copshop Synopsis: wily con artist Teddy Murretto (Frank Grillo) hatches a plan to hide from lethal assassin Bob Viddick (Gerard Butler). He punches rookie officer Valerie Young (Alexis Louder) to get himself arrested and locked up in a small-town police station. However, jail can’t protect Murretto for long as Viddick schemes his own way into detention, biding his time in a nearby cell until he can complete his mission.

    Similar to his brazenly outspoken public persona, writer/director Joe Carnahan has carved a career out of bold cinematic throwbacks. From the violent carnage of 2006’s hitman actioner Smokin’ Aces to the comedic mania of 2014’s underrated Stretch – Carnahan continues to embrace his distinct and kinetic sensibility..

    Carnahan’s latest lean-and-mean thrill ride, Copshop, cleverly utilizes its COVID-19 filmed conditions by sticking to the confines of a run-down police station. In his presentation of a dog-eats-dog environment full of crooked cronies, Carnahan plays to his strengths in a breezy genre picture. 

    Copshop skillfully rides a delicate balance between self-seriousness and self-awareness. Carnahan and co-writer Kurt McLeod thread the needle effectively through their sharp screenplay, implementing a medley of vulgar one-liners and oddball comedic bits to invigorate the traditioned narrative. The duo keenly understands the familiar narrative waters they are treading – and while the film never relents from its straight-faced delivery, there’s enough playful energy to propel the chaos onscreen. When the tonalities come together, Copshop frames itself as a western-esque battle between good and evil, with the two opposing forces sharing a twistedly conjoined reality in their relentless chase after one another. 

    Despite working in a closed-off setting, Carnahan unleashes viscerally vibrant choices behind the camera. Cinematographer Juan Miguel Azpiroz turns the narrative limitations into an asset – as he and Carnahan morph the antiquated setting into a tight-quarters maze riddled with bullets and bloodshed. The duo’s dim color pallet and no-thrills framing are a welcoming embrace to the aesthetics of yesteryear. I credit Carnahan for recreating his throwback-inspired pastiche without hammering the conceit with clunky gimmicks. 

    Copshop’s twisting narrative comes to life under the guidance of a skilled cast. Alexis Louder easily stands as the breakout of the bunch, infusing her straight-arrow police role with action star charisma and sturdy dramatic chops. In a film chock-full of manic caricatures, she provides a much-needed center for the unrelenting narrative. Gerard Butler is an absolute menace as the rugged hitman Bob Viddick – and I mean that in the best possible way. Butler’s abilities are best showcased when embodying grimey scumbags (Den of Thieves) rather than generic everymen, with his dynamic presence creating a charismatic killer operating under his own honored code. Frank Grillo is also fittingly squirely as Teddy, sporting a ridiculous man-bun and deceptive energy as a crook who’s constantly on the run. 

    Copshop elicits crowd-pleasing entertainment throughout its runtime, but some of Carnhan’s trademarks fail to connect. A few comedic bits -particularly those from Toby Huss’s role as a crazed killer – try too hard to generate stir-crazy energy from stagnating material. While the film effectively whisks audiences along, Carnahan and McLeod’s script doesn’t do much to reinvent the wheel. There’s a wave of expository backstory that fails to draw interest, with the film’s convoluted web of relationships never being as cohesive as Carnahan’s clear inspirations (the writer/director has always showcased a mix of Guy Ritchie and Quentin Tarantino). 

    Copshop doesn’t break new ground, but Carnahan and company infuse enough infectious style and energy to create a winning genre romp.

    Copshop opens in theaters on September 17.