film reviews, interviews, features | BRWC

Author: Matt Conway

  • Old: The BRWC Review

    Old: The BRWC Review

    Old Synopsis: A separating couple, Guy (Gael García Bernal) and Prisca (Vicky Krieps), on a tropical holiday, discovers that the secluded beach where they are staying is somehow causing them to age rapidly, reducing their entire lives into a single day. Based on the graphic novel Sandcastle by Frederik Peeters.

    From “The Next Spielberg” to The Last Airbender, M. Night Shyamalan has experienced it all during his multi-decade run as a singular storyteller. While some fixate on his ambitious flops, I can’t celebrate Shyamalan enough for his wide-eyed flair behind the camera. Few directors in the mainstream can match his innovative storytelling and dynamic verve, with Shyamalan crafting an unprecedented run of haunting fables for a broad sensibility (we can ignore After Earth).

    M Night’s latest high-concept endeavor, Old, pushes his filmmaking trademarks to their absolute apex. In a story where strangers combat their aging angst amidst supernatural circumstances, Old features Shyamalan returning to his peak of imaginative storytelling. It’s a breathtaking ride that only Shyamalan could dream up, intoxicating viewers through his visceral yet emotionally compelling descent into our untapped fears.

    In a mainstream sphere dominated by conformist sensibilities, Shyamalan’s go-for-broke craftsmanship is a feast for the eyes. He and Cinematographer Mike Gioulakis convey our character’s loss of reality through a hypnotic blend of dynamic shots and edits. Matched with pitch-perfect framing (Shyamalan’s playfully pushes his PG-13 rating to the limit with some eerie scares), Shyamalan’s visceral craft sets an intoxicating spell for viewers to get lost in. The camera swoops around with technical aplomb while still purposefully enhancing the film’s potent conceits.

    Old excels in horror’s crowdpleasing shock, but that isn’t Shyamalan’s only goal. His adaptation of Frederik Peeters’s inventive material digs at the heart of the character’s ever-slipping grasp on time. The first two acts are cleverly framed as a deranged descent into the characters – and the audiences – deepest fears, stuck moving in fast-forward with no control of their untimely fates. After masking us in horrors, Shyamalan skillfully pulls the curtain to reveal a surprisingly balanced sense of emotionality.

    While we can not control the unavoidable, Shymalan understands the melancholic beauty rendered from the passage of time. Standout performances from Gael García Bernal and Vicky Krieps work brilliantly to sell these nuances. Both actors skillfully tap into Shymalan’s detached writing style, encompassing the overbearing existential dread before executing a few warmly tender moments. It all works to create a resounding third act, which bristles with thrilling frights and deeply humanistic sentiments that still stick with me today.

    Like every M. Night film, critics have levied a familiar list of complaints. Some find his writing too rigid while others critique his desire to create sensational plot turns with every narrative. Can I call Old a technically perfect film? Probably not, but that didn’t stop me from being enamored with its lively balance between entertainment and emotive storytelling. In a summer movie season crowded with routine blockbusters, Old is the first film to conjure genuine imagination and excitement.

    I love seeing Shyamalan still operate like a wide-eyed kid even after trials and tribulations in the industry. His joy and creativity behind the camera are simply infectious, and I hope Old serves as the beginning of a new era of brilliance for the auteur.

    Old is now playing nationwide.

  • Stillwater: The BRWC Review

    Stillwater: The BRWC Review

    Stillwater Synopsis: Bill Baker (Matt Damon), an American oil-rig roughneck from Oklahoma, travels to Marseille to visit his estranged daughter, Allison (Abigail Breslin), who is in prison for a murder she claims she did not commit. Confronted with language barriers, cultural differences, and a complicated legal system, Bill builds a new life for himself in France as he makes it his personal mission to exonerate his daughter.

    Oscar-winning writer/director Tom McCarthy has never been afraid to take chances. Only a genuine risk tasker could release a heavyweight Oscar player like Spotlight the same year as a bizarre family dramedy like The Cobbler (talk about two extremes). Clearly, not every project of his connects, but his singular creativity and sincerity make McCarthy a bold voice to watch in the industry.

    McCarthy’s latest Stillwater maintains a similar brazen streak. Meshing a “loosely” true story with a unique blend of genre inspirations, McCarthy strives for ambitious marks atypical of standard mainstream releases. The results, while wholly uneven, conjures a thoughtful twist on familiar Hollywood mechanics.

    Marketers want audiences to think of Stillwater as a white-knuckle thriller, but that’s assessment doesn’t do the material justice. McCarthy’s narrative is a deeply humanistic one, with Bill’s relentless chase for justice consistently contextualized by nuanced developments. I love the way McCarthy leans into a vast pool of sociopolitical factors. Bill’s gruff and aggressively Americanized persona constantly clashes with France’s even-tempered populous, while the character’s backward class and racial perspectives only lead him down personal deadends. As Bill grows a comfort level in France with Virgine and her daughter Maya, he begins to view the world outside of his self-centered viewpoint.

    Where most deal with black and white truths, McCarthy’s film lives in an amoral grey area. The filmmaker isn’t afraid to handle Bill and his other characters with brutal honesty, crafting a succinct character study that features genuine developments instead of Hollywood manipulation (Bill and Allison are never painted as heroes for their respective actions). I appreciate his attention for slight character beats over-sensationalized thrills. It’s the type of mainstream film that doesn’t get made anymore, with McCarthy building his patient 139-minute runtime to create a drama simmering with illuminating joys and sobering pains.

    Stillwater’s varied complexions create a great canvas for the talented cast. Stomping through France with his burly presence and matter-of-fact folksiness, Matt Damon is nearly unrecognizable as Bill. It’s the type of broadly drawn character that could easily drift into caricature territory, but the actor imbues potent sincerity and regrets into his broken-down persona. Damon’s decision to build Bill through subtle choices rather than grand dramatic notes creates a protagonist fitting of McCarthy’s slow-burn narrative. Camille Cottin also shines as Virgine, developing a naturalistic rapport with Damon that sparkles in its own subdued frequency, while Abigail Breslin injects urgency into her few frames as the imprisoned Allison.

    Stillwater develops ample goodwill during its first two acts, only to dash a good amount of it away with a bizarre finale. Whether it’s a byproduct of studio meddling or unsuccessful risks, McCarthy’s film dances towards the thriller sensibility that most of the narrative happily subverts. The big plot turns are certainly shocking, but they are never handled with the dramatic weight present during a majority of the runtime (there’s barely even a conversation addressing some of the questionable character decisions). It leaves a promising film feeling overbaked and oddly undefined considering its stark strengths.

    I’m not really sure how audiences will react to Stillwater. It’s too meandering to please standard crowds, while the third act turn will likely divide fans of the patient build-up. Personally, I’ll always prefer over-ambitious messes to formulaic studio filmmaking. Even with frustrating inconsistencies, Stillwater’s moving empathetic streak and well-textured characters create a story worth losing yourself in.

    Stillwater is now playing in theaters nationwide.

  • Jungle Cruise: The BRWC Review

    Jungle Cruise: The BRWC Review

    Jungle Cruise Synopsis: Dr. Lily Houghton (Emily Blunt) enlists the aid of wisecracking skipper Frank Wolff (Dwayne Johnson) to take her down the Amazon in his ramshackle boat. Together, they search for an ancient tree that holds the power to heal — a discovery that will change the future of medicine.

    Most business decisions have swayed in Disney’s favor (owning Marvel and Star Wars gives the studio unprecedented power), but the famed House of Mouse is still searching for their voice in live-action films. A plethora of uninspired remakes (Dumbo and Beauty and the Beast) and unsuccessful risks (John Carter and A Wrinkle in Time) have defined Disney’s so-so live-action track record of late, with studio executives still searching for their next Pirates of the Caribbean-type franchise starter.

    Following a similar “based on a theme park ride” conception, Disney’s latest swashbuckling adventure, Jungle Cruise, seems like a step in the right direction. With two megastars and a refreshing old-school premise in tow, director Jaume Collet-Serra presents a promising change-up from modern blockbuster tendencies – only to fall for every tired standard in the book. It saddens me to report it, but Jungle Cruise’s Disneyfied sense of adventure never truly ignites.

    When Jungle Cruise shows signs of life, the film whisks audiences back to the breezy fun synonymous with blockbusters of yesteryear. Collet-Serra’s genre pedigree makes him an apt fit for the material’s spirited energy. He imbues swift movements into the roaring setpieces, infusing enough visceral spark to compensate for these frames’ generic conception. The film also bolsters several scene-stealers in its supporting cast. Jesse Plemmons hits deliciously wicked notes as the mustache-twirling villain, while Paul Giamatti and Jack Whitehall deliver as much-needed comedic foils. These actors are self-aware about the material’s campy shortcomings, cleverly leaning into its goofiness to heighten the melodrama.

    Surprisingly enough, it’s Jungle Cruise’s charismatic leads that don’t quite connect. Dwayne Johnson presents his usual smolder and Emily Blunt showcases deft comedic timing, but neither actor earns enough development within their flatly-conceived roles. Ineffective banter and route dramatic scenes prevent the duo from developing much in terms of chemistry, although most of the blame there would be on the flat screenplay. Collaborated on by three writers, Jungle Cruise presents a busy yet incredibly airless narrative, one that relies solely on mudane lore and obvious plot turns to engineer interest. None of the characters connect enough to mask the screenplay’s autopilot nature.

    Jungle Cruise also falls short in its form of blockbuster adventure. Collet-Serra’s sturdy filmmaking is offset by a murky overkill of expensive special effect designs. For a story centered around high-steak adventure, the film lands with an overproduced, studio-mandated aroma that prevents genuine excitement. I wanted to support an earnest hommage like this, but the film merely dips its toe into the swashbuckling pastiche without possessing a clear direction within it.

    Mileage will vary, but Jungle Cruise’s inert vision left me at a constant disconnect. None of the promising pieces connect as well as they should for this failed franchise-starter. Still, I would rather see Disney take a sincere risk like this compared to another live-action remake.

    Jungle Cruise premiers in theaters and on Disney+ Premier Access on July 30.

  • Jolt: The BRWC Review

    Jolt: The BRWC Review

    Jolt Synopsis: Lindy (Kate Beckinsale) is a bouncer with a slightly murderous anger-management problem that she controls with the help of an electrode-lined vest to shock herself back to normalcy whenever she gets homicidal. After the first guy she’s ever fallen for is murdered (Jai Courtney), she goes on a revenge-fueled rampage to find the killer while the cops pursue her as their chief suspect.

    In an era where mainstream action stars are few and far between, Kate Beckinsale doesn’t get enough credit for her sturdy presence in the genre. Beckinsale’s self-assured charisma and dramatic heft capably bolster whatever role she embodies. From spearheading the dopey Underworld franchise to elevating her paper-thin part in the Total Recall remake, Beckinsale always brings her A-game even if the material lies far below her capabilities.

    Beckinsale continues her action star crusade with Jolt, a high-concept take on the unrelenting rage that defines our typical heroes. As a woman with an uncontrollable compulsion for violently righting wrongs, Beckinsale steals the show as usual, but the static film around her does little to match her talents.

    Jolt certainly aims for frenetic energy. Director Tanya Wexler and first-time screenwriter Scott Wascha attempt to mix their formulaic base with an infusion of busy flourishes, a decision that works far better in practice than execution. Wexler’s first foray into actioners lacks the dynamic craft to exhibit her playful ideas. Loud car chases and brutal brawls attempt to conjure constant excitement, yet Wexler’s stylistic deviations feel like played-out odes to far superior actioners (John Wick wants its neon-soaked color scheme back). Added with a medley of peppy song choices, CGI blood spurts, and chaotic cut-away dream sequences, Jolt merely creates the illusion of style. The film’s drab lighting and shaky handheld framing choices are too standard-issue to match the premise’s vivacious spirit.

    Wascha’s script is similarly ineffective. I can see where the writer intends his effort to be a spirited change-up from the genre’s testosterone-fueled trappings, including several bitting gags and winking nods that deter from the audience’s hard-wired expectations. These self-aware touches lack the perspective or sharp intellect to matter that much, leaving audiences with your typical run-of-the-mill action formula. The narrative moves aimlessly from one shoot-out to the next, while the characters’ lack of meaningful textures prevents much in terms of attachment. Add in a handful of predictable third-act plot twists, Jolt exists in the heart of cliche action movie territory.

    Jolt would be a complete misfire without Beckinsale’s dynamic talents. As the relentlessly tough yet emotionally sincere protagonist, Beckinsale assured performance imbues Lindy’s persona with charm and gravity. Through every formulaic plot development and sleepy setpiece, Beckinsale’s dynamic presence consistently sparks life into the generic proceedings.

    While too busy and relentless to truly bore, Jolt never manifests its intriguing premise past disposable actioner territory. If there’s any takeaway for audiences, Kate Beckinsale continues to be deserving of far better material.

    Jolt is now available on Amazon Prime.

  • Snake Eyes: The BRWC Review

    Snake Eyes: The BRWC Review

    Snake Eyes Synopsis: After saving the life of their heir apparent, tenacious loner Snake Eyes (Henry Goldin) is welcomed into an ancient Japanese clan called the Arashikage where he is taught the ways of the ninja warrior. When secrets from his past are revealed, Snake Eyes’ honor and allegiance will be tested – even if that means losing the trust of his closest ally Storm Shadow (Andrew Koji).

    All brands, even relatively obscure ones, hold significant currency in Hollywood. Studios would rather roll the dice reviving a decayed staple rather than taking a chance on original material, which often leaves audiences with a massive wave of nostalgia-pandering reboots. Did you miss The Addams Family? What about The Craft? It doesn’t matter, because Hollywood is coming fast and furious either way with a plethora of perplexing reboots.

    Many would put the G.I. Joe spin-off Snake Eyes in that cynical category, but this is one of the few random reboots that imbues me with some genuine nostalgia. I was always amused by Joe as a kid, particularly the silent feud between dueling ninja crusaders Snake Eyes and Storm Shadow. Giving these scene-stealing side players their own starring vehicle presents a fresh new perspective for the notoriously rah-rah brand (Snake Eyes and Storm Shadow always took a backseat to the goofy propaganda).

    While it may boast a different aesthetic, Snake Eyes never strives away from conventional blockbuster formula. In fact, director Robert Schwentke’s mildly diverting origin story loses itself amidst its strikingly formulaic design. It’s a passable feature, one that reeks with a half-baked, TV-pilot aroma instead of igniting a promising first chapter.

    Snake Eyes isn’t without promise. Schwentke and assistant director/stunt master Kenji Tanigaki enhance the standard-issue action numbers with a lively creative pulse. Tanigaki makes his presence felt through precise choreography, crafting a satisfying dance filled with impactful punches and swift movements. A third-act nighttime car chase soundly highlights their adept work, with a mixture of slashing swords and chaotic gunplay fully utilizing the character’s immense skills. Certain aesthetic choices are remnants of the overused Western sensibility (frenetic editing occasionally mucks up smooth setpieces), but Schwentke and Tanigaki deserve credit for embracing Eastern influences with genuine craft and understanding.

    The passionate rivalry at the heart of Snake Eyes and Storm Shadow’s existence also shows moments of vitality. Star Henry Golding lends his swaggering charisma to make Snake Eyes pop as an action hero. His Americanized accent displays some inconsistencies, yet the actor still strongly conveys the character’s conflict as he deals with his painful past. If anything, I hope this film serves as a breakout for co-star Andrew Koji. As the somber and rage-filled Storm Shadow, Koji steals the show while injecting genuine gravity into the character’s stark pursuit for honor and justice.

    Even with two promising performances at its center, Snake Eyes never finds cohesion on a fundamental level. Screenwriters Anna Waterhouse, Joe Shrapnel, and Evan Spiliotpoulos are stuck mindlessly operating in the confines of studio blockbuster territory. Their final product is as aimless and devoid of personality as it gets, fitting the cookie-cutter mold without ever presenting an understanding of what makes these characters work. G.I. Joe has never been a brand known for its nuance, but Snake Eyes‘ lack of focus can’t even match the series’ straightforward narrative objectives.

    As an origin story, the film’s breakneck pace gives no time for the character dynamics to marinate. Making Snake Eyes a more complex and morally ambiguous character has promise on paper, with the screenwriters thankfully drifting away from the blanketed hero-worship of most origin stories. However, Snake Eye’s lust for revenge is never imbued with much emotion or agency. The audience rarely gets time to toil with his pains, making his simplistic quest more of a plot device than defining character motivation. The same can be said about his relationship with Storm Shadow. Both characters are conveyed through strong performances, yet the screenplay underserves them at every turn with over-simplistic plotting. If this film is supposed to establish their lifelong rivalry, then the slapdash screenplay should pay more attention to their passionate feud (the final ten minutes forces several revelations without earning them).

    Instead of establishing a succinct origin story, Snake Eyes bloats itself within the vast G.I. Joe universe. Before Snake Eyes can even establish his own presence, G.I. Joe favorites Scarlett and the Baroness show up to muck up the proceedings. Both characters are spiritedly performed (Samara Weaving and Úrsula Corberó nail the material’s corny playfulness), but their appearance only serves to tease a potential cinematic universe. Why can’t a film act as one cohesive experience? The trend of forcing sequel teases without even having any potential follow-ups greenlit only works to hurt a franchise’s essential foundation (we’ll see how the box office turns out).

    Snake Eyes will serve as passable entertainment for some. As one of the few fans of the brand, its half-baked and aggressively mediocre delivery only left me with mere ambivalence.

    Snake Eyes is now playing in theaters nationwide.