film reviews, interviews, features | BRWC

Author: Matt Conway

  • Free Guy: Another Review

    Free Guy: Another Review

    Free Guy Synopsis: When a bank teller (Ryan Reynolds) discovers he’s actually a background player in an open-world video game, he decides to become the hero of his own story — one that he can rewrite himself. In a world where there are no limits, he’s determined to save the day his way before it’s too late, and maybe find a little romance with the coder who conceived him.

    Video games’ vast creativity comes to life on the big screen in Shawn Levy’s blockbuster Free Guy. While this original IP project doesn’t stray too far from the comfortable formula (the story meshes Gamer and The Truman Show but in an airless, family-friendly context), Levy and company spin a breezy good time at the cineplex. 

    Levy has made a career out of busy, studio-friendly offerings. His sturdy yet unpretentious resume has caused him to go overlooked in critical circles (The Night at the Museum trilogy and Real Steel thrive as agreeable crowdpleasers). Weightless blockbusters like Free Guy lie right in Levy’s wheelhouse. 

    Working in a world rampant with chaotic chases and pop culture references, Levy keeps the action moving at a fast and furious rate while maintaining a steady presence behind the camera. His clean and overly-lit style may land with a certain blandness, but Levy’s consistently poised delivery captures the frenzy with technical aplomb (I can’t say I was missing shaky cam). 

    Screenwriters Matt Lieberman and Zak Penn also operate comfortably in their studio confines. The unpretentious narrative whisks along skillfully with a plethora of well-timed jokes and sincere crowdpleasing moments. A better film could have engaged more with the film’s real-world and virtual quandaries (Guy’s turmoil over his existence exists solely for false melodrama). Still, I give the duo credit for exploring their premise’s creative capabilities. The addition of timely cameos and surprisingly effective pop culture references imbue enough spark to mask the inherent familiarity. 

    Much of the fun comes from the all-star cast. Ryan Reynolds is always comfortable embodying the smarmy and sarcastic charm of Deadpool (he played a similar character Hitman’s Bodyguard and 6 Underground), but Free Guy gifts the actor with a welcomed change of pace. As the overly sincere Guy, Reynolds’s lively energy creates an infectiously spirited protagonist to follow. It’s refreshing to see Reynolds mirror himself as the bud of the joke instead of always being typecast as the self-aware, smart ass. Jodie Comer and Lil Rey Howery share breezy chemistry with Reynolds, while Joe Keery and Oscar-winning writer/director Taikia Waititi provide a humorous spark in their by-the-numbers role. 

    Free Guy is far from faultless. The screenplay paints itself into far too many conventional corners, which isn’t helped by an unblinding dedication to family-friendly approachability. I can imagine versions of this film that are far bolder and thematically enriching. However, for what it is, Free Guy does a capable enough job whisking audiences into its bombastic world. It’s refreshing to see a blockbuster that doesn’t enforce life-or-death steaks upon audiences, with Levy maintaining a playful verve that catapults his familiar archetypes. 

    Free Guy earns enough high-score watermarks to win over summer audience. I hope the film’s strong box office run implores studios to embrace more original projects.

    Free Guy is now playing in theaters.

  • The Night House: The BRWC Review

    The Night House: The BRWC Review

    The Night House Synopsis: Beth (Rebecca Hall) is left alone in the lakeside home her husband built after her husband’s unexpected death. As she continues to mourn, disturbing visions of a presence in the house beckon towards her. But the harsh light of day washes away any proof of a haunting. Against the advice of her friends, she begins digging into his belongings, yearning for answers.

    As one of the last unreleased remnants of Sundance 2020 (Fox Searchlight acquired the film for 12 million), The Night House finds director David Bruckner continuing the trend of arthouse horror efforts. The results serve as an inconsistent reminder of festival film’s best and worst aspects, but star Rebecca Hall’s powerhouse performance thankfully carries this so-so effort across the finish line. 

    Hall – who has made a career out of elevating Hollywood shlock (Godzilla vs. Kong and The Gift) and low-budget indies (2016’s Christine remains an underrated powerhouse), imbues her usual unrelenting conviction into the mourning widow Beth. Every longing stare and erratic emotional shift works naturally to sell the character’s slipping grasp on reality. Hall portrays Beth’s spiral with empathy and nuance, allowing both forces to ground the supernatural narrative in genuine human pain. The actor’s emotive work sets the groundwork for the entire film, often gluing the story together as it threatens to fall apart around her. Supporting players Vondie Curtis-Hall and Sarah Goldberg also offer assured performances as Beth’s empathetic friends. 

    The Night House is the definition of a mixed bag, but the film is an admirably composed mess at that. Bruckner’s brand of atmospheric dread fits the foreboding material like a glove. Similar to his last film, The Ritual, Bruckner utilizes dreary visuals and unnerving camera movements to dig his claws under the audience’s skin. I can’t tell you how shocked I was to see a director use the maddeningly cheap jump scare tactic for thoughtful reasons, with the chaotic jumps skillfully representing the jostling between two spectrums of reality. Teamed with Cinematographer Elisha Christian’s precise framing, the duo conveys the surrealist shocks while also capturing Beth’s emotional whirlwind with poignant intimacy. 

    Like so many indie genre efforts before it, The Night House stumbles in its blending of theme and horror. Ben Collins and Luke Piotrowski draw a screenplay full of potent ideas. It’s just a shame that they rarely color the film’s ruminations on grief, depression, and the ways we confront those personal demons. Much of the film rests its laurels on surface-level representations of ideas, leaving little room for interpretive audiences to sink further past the obvious. I can’t imagine what this film would have looked like without Hall’s commanding performance, as many of the dramatic notes feel overly simplified despite the complex array of emotions.  

    Horror can work as an effective tool for intensifying and manifesting personal demons, yet the film’s screenplay rarely engages with the genre’s core tenets. Attempts at marrying the film’s themes with needless lore and overworked setpieces work to detract rather than enhance the ideas under the surface. This dynamic becomes especially true with the film’s oddly bombastic final third, which throws out the patient character-building for a rushed and over-simplified conclusion that doesn’t earn its dramatic crescendo.  

    Part of me wants to see a version of The Night House that leaves the supernatural elements behind in favor of more intricate character building. Still, this uneven genre fusion works ably enough to elicit an engaging descent into grief’s overwhelming hold on its victims. 

    The Night House is now playing in theaters.

  • The Protégé: The BRWC Review

    The Protégé: The BRWC Review

    The Protégé Synopsis: Rescued as a child by the legendary assassin Moody (Samuel L. Jackson), Anna (Maggie Q) is the world’s most skilled contract killer. However, when Moody gets killed, she vows revenge for the man who taught her everything she knows.

    Lean-and-mean actioners are a rarity in today’s theatrical marketplace. The subgenre was a beloved staple since the ’80s, with distinctive stars often carrying the action and storytelling weight of their by-the-numbers material. Now, most straightforward action films are fated to unfaithful streaming releases. Even box-office staples like Liam Neeson, Michael B. Jordan, and Chris Pratt can’t escape the everchanging tides. 

    The lack of theatrical actioners makes Martin Campbell’s latest The Protégé a refreshing blast of nostalgia. Pairing Campbell – the beloved architect behind two of the best James Bond films (Casino Royale and GoldenEye) – with three dynamics stars seems like a great foundation. Unfortunately, the film’s non-starter screenplay derails it at every turn. 

    To The Protégé’s credit, Campbell spins a brisk and highly-watchable yarn. His poised precision behind the camera elevates a series of boilerplate setpieces. The lack of over-used techniques, like shaky cam and quick edits, works wonders in shedding the tackiness of today’s over-produced efforts. I was also charmed by the film’s trio of stars. Maggie Q carries the gravity and smooth swagger of a bonafide action star, oftentimes commanding the screen despite her one-note role. Michael Keaton delivers a wicked perkiness to his role as a rival hitman, while Samuel L. Jackson provides his usual spark in his limited appearances. 

    I admire The Protégé’s throwback sensibility – it’s a move studios don’t embrace enough in a world run by oversaturated blockbusters. However, inert execution creates more of a bargain bin imitation. Richard Wenk’s screenplay offers a few glimpses of cheeky subversion (a dinner scene where characters describe their guns like wine earned some laughs), but the majority coasts through a wave of uninteresting cliches. From the tired revenge plotline to the overabundance of filler plot mechanics, the screen remains busy without defining a level of attachment. 

    Even with the cast sparking some vitality into the proceedings, none of the characters develop past the genre’s familiar archetypes. The script doesn’t even know what it wants to do with these characters at points, introducing random backstory that’s never touched on in meaningful ways. I understand action films of this ilk don’t need innovation. Most films subvert their routine plotlines through intricate plotting or developing a distinct personality. Campbell’s film is too content going through the motions to draw a real impression.

    The Protégé, despite its competence, is about as vanilla as it gets for the genre. 

    The Protégé opens in theaters on August 20th.

  • Language Lessons: Review

    Language Lessons: Review

    Language Lessons Synopsis: A Spanish teacher (Natalie Morales) and her grieving student (Mark Duplass) develop an unexpected friendship during their virtual meetings. The film was made on Zoom during COVID-19.

    While studios fight over blockbuster profits, Duplass Brothers Productions have keenly dug their nitch in the marketplace. Mark and Jay Duplass have transformed intimate low-budget indies into a legitimate brand, utilizing their success to produce similarly spirited efforts from other talents. Films like Blue Jay, Tangerine, and Skelton Twins resonated deeply with me through their intimate exploration of human dynamics. 

    The trend continues with Language Lessons – a modest Zoom-based drama filmed in the heart of the pandemic. As a labor of love from Mark and Natalie Morales (Morales wrote, directed, and stars in the film while Duplass co-writers and stars alongside her), the feel-good dramedy strikes enough genuine notes to mask its inherently slight appeals.  

    Several COVID-filmed efforts have tried (and mostly failed) to convey the isolating times without feeling mawkish in their pursuits. Language Lessons is one of the few to nail the challenge. Morales and Duplass’ screenplay intelligently dances away from the contrivances that plague indies of this elk. Whenever the script displays overly cutesy dynamics, the pair find honest ways to subversive the subgenre’s false cheerfulness (including a strong critique of the “manic pixie dream girl” trope).  

    The duo’s reliance on free-flowing, improvisational dialogue also helps build a genuine rapport without significant backstory. Few can create lively conversational energy like Duplass and company, with the deft screenplay allowing dynamics to play out in their own raw, naturalistic manner. Morales’ firm direction further encapsulates the film’s breezy charms. Her subdued touch, both in terms of steady framing and patient delivery, hits just the right notes during the film’s poignant frames. 

    The joys of Language Lessons come from its well-paired leads. Morales imbues Cariño’s instructive role with a radiant glow onscreen. It’s a joy to see the sturdy character actor take center stage in a role that showcases her impressive range and charisma. Mark Duplass delivers yet another tender performance as the down-on-his-luck student Adam, riding the character’s roller coaster of emotions through his intimate touch. Both actors play off each other like well-matched tennis partners, comfortably volleying sharp exchanges without missing a beat. 

    Language Lessons isn’t short on charm, but the film doesn’t quite nail its dramedy balance. The narrative, especially towards the latter half, forces a sense of melodrama that juxtaposes the first half’s easy-going appeals. The third act gets especially busy with its dramatic revelations, so much so that the conclusion feels bizarrely rushed in the whirlwind process. The lack of impactful emotions prevents the pleasant film from elevating its barebones shell compared to other Duplass efforts. 

    Language Lesson still won me over despite some inconsistencies. Morales and Duplass’s naturalistic collaboration elicits a relaxed deviation from the indie dramedy formula. 

    Language Lesson hits theaters on September 10th. 

  • Demonic: The BRWC Review

    Demonic: The BRWC Review

    Demonic Synopsis: Terrifying demons confront Carly (Carly Pope) when she visits her comatose estranged mother Angela (Nathalie Boltt) via technology connected to her consciousness. 

    Through meteoric successes and disjointed failures, Neill Blomkamp has established a career out of bold risk-taking. His debut feature, the best picture nominee District 9, was a true breakout, meshing inventive science fiction and Apartheid-era politics to create a rare commercial and critical success. Blomkamp’s success placed him on every executive’s radar, with several studios offering the director tentpole brands like Halo and Alien for his follow-up projects. 

    Instead, Blomkamp continued to embrace his singular storytelling perspective. Follow-ups Elysium and Chappie were similarly ambitious, but neither fully connected in their blend of storytelling and theme (no one has before or since thought to put Die Antwoord as the stars of their movie). After a six-year hiatus, Blomkamp returns in low-budget form with the sci-fi/supernatural horror hybrid Demonic. Blomkamp’s creative spirit radiates in full force, but this inert genre hybrid never congeals its plethora of ideas. 

    Even when his films aren’t jiving, Blomkamp still incites excitement from audiences. His marriage between supernatural horror and futuristic technology creates an intriguing blend of science and faith – two ideas that present intriguing thematic potential through the writer/director’s clever world-building devices. Whether it’s militant religious units or the metaphysical perspective of Angela’s comatose state, Blomkamp colorfully draws his world outside the conventions of standard genre fare. He and Cinematographer Bryon Kopman’s craftsmanship also excels at maximizing their low-budget assets. An assured mixture of ambient handheld camera work and sensible uses of CGI imbues the horror frames with a much-needed visceral spark. 

    Demonic’s surface-level intangibles are bursting with promise. It’s just a shame that Blomkamp’s film never connects on a fundamental level. Carly’s intimate journey through trauma and tragedy should serve as a magnifying force behind the film’s visceral horrors, but her central arc never generates much interest. The deficient character beats leave Demonic desperately lacking nuance and emotional sincerity, with the familial rift between Carly and Angela stagnating before it ever finds a rhythm. Neither Carly Pope nor Nathalie Boltt receives enough dramatic range to personify Carly and Angela past their surface-level emotions – a questionable decision considering the film’s reliance on off-screen backstory to connect the dots. The lack of investment constantly keeps audiences at bay from Blomkamp’s noble intentions. 

    Demonic’s breathless 104-minute experience never finds cohesion amidst its array of genre influences. The horror setpieces are admirably composed, but Blomkamp’s strict adherence to jump scares and conventional horror tropes detract from his filmmaking verve. As a piece of contemplative science fiction, Blomkamp confuses being cerebral as being emptily straight-faced. Neither conceit is executed to their fullest extent, creating a familiar problem of overindulgence for the admirably inventive filmmaker. 

    A lack of cohesion and emotional hook derailed Demonic for me, although I wouldn’t rule out Blomkamp’s latest from finding a supportive audience. I implore Blomkamp to continue to pursue innovative risks, even if the results continue to wain from his standout debut.

    Demonic debuts in select theaters and VOD on August 20th.