Infinite Synopsis: Evan (Mark Wahlberg)is haunted by memories of two past lives stumbles upon the centuries-old secret society of similar individuals and dares to join their ranks. They must work together to stop a world-ending plot from the wicked Ted (Chiwetel Ejiofor), a former acquaintance of Evan’s from a past life. Based on The Reincarnationist Papers by D. Eric Maikranz.
COVID-19 has caused some big-budget releases to lose themselves amidst the anvils of time. A picturesque case comes with the high-concept Mark Wahlberg actioner Infinite, which was pegged in its development as a “Wanted meets The Matrix” franchise-starter. Somewhere along the way, those intentions began to fade as the film’s delayed theatrical release was straight-up canceled by Paramount (it was originally going to debut on Memorial Day before a delay to September).
Now debuting on Paramount+, Infinite possesses the credibility of a promising first attempt at movie magic for the overlooked streamer. Fashioned from the fabric of a commonplace blockbuster, Infinite has the look and feel of an event movie, but this sleep-walking effort rarely engages with its intriguing premise.
Like several sci-fi blockbusters before it, Infinite seems deathly afraid of its strongest asset. A narrative about reincarnation and our meaningful spiritual connections should have dramatic viability (Cloud Atlas morphed a similar premise into a masterful showcase), but Ian Shorr’s wayward screenplay embraces a hollow shell of studio filmmaking. Every narrative beat registers like an empty paint job of action movie mechanics, with Shorr never integrating the premise’s inventive connotations into the dull formula. The seldom attempts at mythological world-building are about as flat and thankless as it gets (some bizarre religious angles are introduced and never explored).
Infinite’s star-studded cast can’t keep the film’s tired veneer afloat. Mark Wahlberg’s machismo bravado makes a poor choice for Evan’s vulnerable persona. As usual, the actor doesn’t stray away from his all-too-familiar comfort zone, droning away with blank line readings while rarely imbuing humanity into the character. Part of acting is…acting, so I don’t know why Wahlberg continues to settle with these roles (when he’s taken chances with Pain and Gain and The Other Guy’s, it’s been a breath of fresh air). Chiwetel Ejiofor finds himself stuck as a thankless villain despite his abundance of energy, while co-stars Dylan O’Brien, Sophie Cookson, and Jason Mantzoukas have little to do in their barebones roles.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zI2qbr99H64
The whole experience would be a disaster without director Antoine Fuqua’s assured capabilities. Fuqua bolsters the film with a level of competent professionalism, crafting several surprisingly effective setpieces during the breezy runtime. Whether it’s a high-wire car chase or an implausibly campy motorcycle stunt, the director has a knack for accelerating sequences to exciting new heights. It’s just too bad the director’s trust in the material isn’t paid off in the film itself.
Infinite never escapes the tiredness of its by-the-numbers mechanics. The film performs a major disservice to its intriguing source material while rarely offering a reason for audiences to invest in its universe.
Gully Synopsis: Three friends from a rough Los Angeles neighborhood (Kelvin Harrison Jr., Charlie Plummer, and Jacob Latimore) embark on a wild night of out-of-control partying, but when the rampage stops, the retribution begins.
With a unique Boyz n’ the Hood meets Clockwork Orange premise, marquee music video director Nabil Elderkin’s long-delayed narrative debut, Gully (it was initially filmed in 2018), analyzes improvised communities complex intersection between wistful, good-natured people and their oppressively dire conditions. Elderkin and screenwriter Marcus J. Guillory confront fascinating and ambitious social dynamics, but their abrasive film never matches its raw bravado with enough substantive reflection.
Violent video games, mental illness, domestic abuse, sexual grooming, and untamed PTSD are amongst the busy array of intense subject matter Guillory attempts to unearth. Jam-packed into a breathless 81-minute runtime, Gully lands like a bloated concoction of zeitgeist ideals. The script combats audiences with a plethora of disturbing connotations, but without meaningful shading, these sequences only stand out for their empty vulgarity.
Guillory’s laborsome diatribes and played-out narrative detours only work to stand in place of insular developments (Terrance Howard revives the “wise homeless man” cliche with painfully overworked results). Far too often, the film feels like it’s screaming towards the audience without ever fleshing out the overarching thesis. It’s a screenplay bristling with great intentions, yet Guillory’s sprawling tendencies end up becoming his biggest downfall.
Elderkin’s direction is similarly over-indulgent. He and cinematographer Adriano Goldman integrate a few technically promising techniques, including an intriguing blurring of the boys’ violent crimes with video game HUD displays. However, the filmmaking’s clumsy visuals and blunt heavy-handedness consistently hold Gully back. Whether it’s budgetary restrictions or simply inexperience, the film’s busy imagery lacks the poise to convey more meaningful conceits. Films with similarly weighty ideas present proper balance (Sundance’s On the Count of Threeshares a similar nihilistic streak), often finding ways to marry their overwhelming dread with a silver lining of humanity. Elderkin and Guillory get too caught up in the noise to really uncover their supposed heart.
Gully’s lopsided delivery still finds genuine sparks. Elderkin and company couldn’t have asked for a better set of young actors to portray their wayward protagonists. Kelvin Harrison Jr., Charlie Plummer, and Jacob Latimore imbue volatile personas with empathy and sincerity at every turn. Harrison Jr.’s cold gaze relays untamed pain from his nonverbal persona, while Plummer and Latimore’s brash energy never masks their inherent struggles. The trio develops a bond smelted through the fires of anger and torment, with the actor’s convincing rapport emotionally connecting to the character’s unshakeable solidarity.
I love what Gully represents on paper. More movies need a sense of raw vitriol to match the underlying feelings of their subject matter. That being said, this is a largely unkempt and ineffective attempt to ruminate on disenfranchised youths and the myriad of factors driving them to their breaking point.
Gully is now playing in select theaters and VOD platforms.
The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It Synopsis: Paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren take on one of the most sensational cases of their careers after a cop stumbles upon a dazed and bloodied young man walking down the road. Accused of murder, the suspect claims demonic possession as his defense, forcing the Warrens into a supernatural inquiry unlike anything they’ve ever seen before.
The Conjuring brand continues to leave an unshakable impact on the horror industry, with James Wan’s 2013 breakout spawning an unparalleled run of genre blockbusters. Despite their financial success, I have felt underwhelmed by what the series has had to offer. Wan’s masterful craftsmanship always elevated his refined haunted house sensibility, but the myriad of dull spin-offs have never matched the original’s winning formula. Even The Conjuring 2, which received similar acclaim to its predecessor, left me feeling cold from its bloated narrative.
I have disappointingly disagreed with the glowing critical consensus, so leave it for the franchise’s most divisive film yet to be my personal favorite. The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It infuses a detective procedural pastiche into the brand’s somewhat stagnate sensibility. Led by The Curse of La Lloronahelmer Michael Chavis, the latest Warren odyssey strikes an astute and refreshingly playful deviation from the franchise’s storied traditions.
Chavis and screenwriter David Leslie Johnson-McGoldrick wisely lean into the series’ strongest appeal. Stalwarts Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga continue to form a wonderfully lived-in pair as Ed and Lorraine Warren. With three and a half movies of chemistry under their belt (they are partially in Annabelle Comes Home), both actors possess infectious charm and comfortability as the storied paranormal couple. Whether Ed’s grimacing at Lorraine’s dangerous spiritual descents or Lorraine remembering Ed’s medicine, the film features several slight character beats that liven and exemplify their loving connection. It’s a joy to see the Warren’s take the spotlight over well-calibrated scares, with the two characters continuing to develop a strong emotional core for audiences to attach to (a warm flashback of their initial romance was a genius inclusion).
The Devil Made Me Do It steps into new territory with relative success. Director Michael Chavis can’t implement Wan’s masterful precision, but the upcoming director intelligently plays into the material’s procedural yarn. As the Warren’s piece the puzzle behind a devilish curse, Chavis keeps the case-changing revelations coming at a free-flowing pace. A slew of well-placed needle drops and nostalgic camera techniques (the classic horror references are rampant) keeps the energy high even when the scares aren’t on screen. Chavis also displays some noticeable improvements from the dreadful La Llorona, constructing a few well-choreographed scares through his patient touch behind the camera.
Similar to its predecessors, The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It suffers most when the Warren’s are off-screen. The frames dedicated to Arnie (roughly a third of the movie), the well-meaning victim behind the dreaded curse, lack in terms of humanity and agency. Ruairi O’Connor and Sarah Catherine Hook do their best to give these moments a pulse as Arnie and his fiancee, but the rudimentary developments never elevate the duo past thankless victims. I also wish the film went even further with its dive into Ed and Lorraine’s long-standing marriage, leaving a lot of the heavy lifting to an ending that’s somewhat hokey in its delivery.
Even with that considered, The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It may be my biggest surprise of the year so far. Chavis and company construct an amiable change-up that refreshes the series’ well-trudged formula. I hope these films continue to take risks as the franchise only continues to grow.
The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It is now playing in theaters nationwide and on HBO Max.
The summer movie season is officially underway! After having last year’s summer movies canceled, I am ecstatic to embrace a new wave of tentpole releases. The major releases will always dominate the conversation, but June also has its fair share of under-the-radar gems worth discussion. For this New Release Breakdown, I will be updating this feature throughout June to highlight a myriad of new releases hitting select theaters and VOD platforms. Let’s get the ball rolling!
False Positive Synopsis: Lucy (Ilana Glazer) and Adrian (Justin Theroux) find their dream fertility doctor in the illustrious Dr. Hindle (Pierce Brosnan). But after becoming pregnant, Lucy begins to notice something sinister behind Hindle’s charm, and she sets out to uncover the unsettling truth about him.
From astute comedic specials to her uproarious series Broad City, Ilana Glazer’s sharp comedic mind continues to generate waves across Hollywood. Her socially aware insights and lively creativity are unmatched, which thankfully comes into play with her starring/screenwriting debut False Positive. Glazer and co-writer/director John Lee embrace a risky genre blend, but their bold vision is thankfully matched with substantive undertones.
Part horror movie, part dark comedy, False Positive never congeals too much to traditional narrative devices. Lee’s vibrant pastiche of dread effectively digs under the audience’s skin, utilizing sharp sound notes and claustrophobic framing to relay Lucy’s growing panic. The unique genre blend also serves as a fantastic avenue for Glazer’s intelligent screenplay. Glazer unearths her horrors with raw gravity by analyzing the immense social pressures involving pregnancy and women’s general commodification for male’s goals.
Few films can match False Positive’s ambition, but its wide-eyed goals do lie somewhere out of the film’s reach. Lee and Glazer occasionally get too abrasive with their thematic goals, oftentimes sledgehammering meaningful conceits without proper nuance. There are several interesting conversation points regarding the film’s insights, but the more the film embraces its surreal horror energy, the more straightforward the material becomes. The strengths far outweigh False Positive’s misgivings, though, with Glazer and Lee crafting an inspired descent into pregnancy pressures.
False Positive debuts June 25th on Hulu.
FATHERHOOD – Directed by Paul Weitz
Fatherhood Synopsis: A father (Kevin Hart) brings up his baby girl as a single dad after the unexpected death of his wife who died a day after their daughter’s birth.
Kevin Hart’s dynamic talents have always felt underused on screen. While filmmakers are quick to highlight his energetic comedic delivery, they also straddle the actor with thinly-conceived roles lacking in terms of growth and dimension. Hart’s latest endeavor, Fatherhood, presents interesting opportunities for newfound vulnerability onscreen. Good intentions aside, this stagnate family drama never elevates its Hallmark schmaltz.
Hart certainly tries his best to elevate the middling film around him. His toned-down delivery allows him to relay the internal pains of a grieving single father while still keeping his comedic touch skillfully intact. At its best, Fatherhood offers a few intimate glimpses into the joys and pains of being a single parent. Paul Weitz’s direction works when he allows the material to speak on its own terms, foregoing any overworked score choices to capture emotional beats at their most fragile.
Unfortunately, Fatherhood rarely dances away from maudlin tropes. Dana Stevens and Weitz’s screenplay work in too many broad frames of familial drama, wildly overworking a narrative that should be fairly barebones in essence. The general tonality feels overbearing in its saccharine swings at emotion, rarely feeling assured enough to trust the material’s inherently appealing core. By the time the second half comes around, the special bond between Hart and his growing daughter becomes lost in a wave of contrivances.
Fatherhood desperately calls for naturalism, but the film’s overproduced and overbaked tendencies consistently get in the way. I will say, I do hope Hart continues down this pathway. He has the ability to turn in some strong dramatic work when given the chance.
Fatherhood debuts June 18th on Netflix.
DOMINO: BATTLE OF THE BONES – Directed by Baron Davis, Carl Reid, and Steven V. Vazquez Jr.
Domino: Battle of the Bones Synopsis: Hoping to reclaim his former glory, a fallen dominoes champion (Lou Beatty Jr.) recruits his step-grandson (Nathan Dana) to help him win an off-the-wall tournament chock-full of colorful personalities.
Former NBA superstar Baron Davis makes his writing/directorial debut with an uproarious comedy about an overlooked cultural staple. His film, Domino: Battle of the Bones, throws a busy array of bold personalities and slapstick gags at the screen. While the film’s presentation lumbers with a certain clunkiness, the material’s infectious spirit registers plenty of laugh-out-loud moments.
Davis and company are clearly having a blast throughout the production. The film thankfully never takes itself seriously, successfully allowing every bit character and bizarre moment to stand on its own terms as good-natured comedy. From David Arquette’s sincere effort as a sleazy businessman who continues to fall on his face to Anthony McKinley’s spirited performance as a wild card with an eye for dominos, the actors all nail the finite frequency required for their over-the-top caricatures (I can’t forget Snoop Dogg who serves a vital role as a sharp narrator).
Amongst all the busyness, stars Lou Beatty Jr. and Nathan Dana establish a fairly sturdy center to ground the chaos. The duo’s humorous and well-meaning rapport sparkles despite its contrived origins, with Beatty Jr. stealing every frame as a wise-cracking grandfather. Still, Domino: Battle of the Bones desperately calls for more focus and cohesion. The film’s bloated 110-minute runtime jams in one too many thankless subplots, while the second half loses some of its comedic luster in favor of generic plot contrivances.
Even with structural issues, Domino: Battle of the Bones is the kind of spirited effort I love to see. Hopefully, this is the start of an exciting career transition for Baron Davis.
Domino: Battle of the Bones opens in select theaters on June 11th.
FLASHBACK – Directed by Christopher MacBride
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMvJtpz4Bbk
Flashback Synopsis: Fredrick Fitzell (Dylan O’Brien) starts having horrific visions of a girl (Maikia Moore) who vanished in high school. He reaches out to old friends (Emory Cohen) with whom he used to take a mysterious drug but soon realizes the only solution lies deep within his own memories.
Passion projects can often endure a tumultuous journey to release. Few cases are truer than writer/director Christopher MacBride’s debut effort Flashback, a long-forgotten indie that completed its production nearly three years ago. MacBride’s earnestly ambitious kaleidoscope of sci-fi elements isn’t always the most cohesive experience, but the director’s unbridled vision does elicit a compelling yarn for audiences to untangle.
Every frame of MacBride’s film is stitched together with creativity and passion. The director implements his unique vision with assured verve behind the camera, implementing a myriad of disorienting techniques and kinetic edits to place audiences in Fredrick’s shoes. The initial intrigue develops into a fairly interesting dive into memory and addiction. Both forces hold Fredrick captive from a future existence with his job and fiance (MacBride’s bold visuals are thoughtfully incorporated into the character’s decaying mindsets). Star Dylan O’Brien also offers one of his most revealing performances to date as the lost protagonist, imbuing the idle character with humanity and conviction at every turn.
I love movies like Flashback for the grand home-run swings they take, even if MacBride’s noble intentions don’t always connect. The film presents a revealing emotional core that far too often gets sidetracked by narrative mechanics. Perhaps a longer runtime or tighter narrative could allow the characters more time to breathe (particularly Emory Cohen and Maika Monroe’s supporting roles), but Flashback still generates a striking impression despite lingering imperfections. I hope MacBride’s effort finds an audience, as it has cult classic potential written all over it.
Flashback is available in select theaters and VOD platforms on June 4th.
AWAKE – Directed by Mark Raso
Awake Synopsis: After a devastating global event wipes out all electronics and eliminated people’s ability to sleep, a former soldier (Gina Rodriguez) recovering from addiction, pursues a potential cure with her estranged daughter and son.
Cut from the cloth of schlocky disaster films, Awake operates comfortably enough amongst its ridiculous peers. Led by a dedicated performance from Gina Rodriguez, this roller-coaster ride of inexplicable chaos finds its stride the campier it gets. Mark Raso’s competent direction swerves audiences through creepy religious cults and corrupt government agents with enough gusto, but his film’s painfully generic tendencies rarely inspire interest.
Similar to other disaster films, Awake takes itself deathly seriously. The been-there-done-that screenplay from Mark and Joseph Raso places a pedigree on melodramatic character beats and generic plot twists. There’s completely nothing for audiences to attach to, as even Rodgriuez’s sturdy gravity cant imbue interest in the generic protaginst. Awake also far too comfortably embraces the genre’s standard motions, with Raso’s lack of visceral verve nailing home the sense of malaise. It’s fitting that a film about sleep derived people sleepwalks through a majority of its runtime.
For better and for worse, Awake is a perfect fit for Netflix. It’s a passable enough diversion destined to be quickly be forgotten by streaming audiences.
Awake debuts June 9th on Netflix.
THE PAPER TIGERS – Directed by Quoc Bao Tran
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bypkUrC3NsM
The Paper Tigers Synopsis: Three Kung Fu prodigies (Alain Uy, Ron Yuan, and Mykel Shannon Jenkins) have grown into washed-up, middle-aged men, now one kick away from pulling their hamstrings. But when their master is murdered, they must juggle their dead-end jobs, dad duties, and old grudges to avenge his death.
Unlike a lot of festival darlings, Quoc Bao Tran’s incredibly earnest writing/directorial debut The Paper Tigers lives up to its glowing reception (debuted originally at last year’s Fantasia Film Festival). Tran’s film thrives as an infectious love letter to kung-fu cinema, with the adept filmmaker repurposing familiar genre mechanics into a spiritedly sincere effort.
Several filmmakers have tried to modernize kung-fu cinema, but few realize there’s more to the genre than impressively choreographed fights. The Paper Tigers operates at its peak when focused on the deeply-felt bond between the central trio. The talented leads personify each role with charisma and dramatic sincerity, successfully creating a charming rapport that reflects their storied history (the warm childhood nostalgia makes this feel like a good version of what Grown Ups attempted). Tran’s warm core is thankfully complemented by the film’s technically adept fight sequences, with the filmmaker capturing every acrobatic movement and hard-hitting punch with equal aplomb.
The Paper Tigers does present some technical hiccups. The film’s budgetary restrictions present themselves at opportune times and the story goes through a familiar narrative playbook that rarely surprises. Still, the film’s endearing qualities are ever-present in every frame. I hope this is the beginning of an exciting new chapter for Tran’s career.
The Paper Tigers is now available in select theaters and on VOD throughout June.
Under the Stadium Lights Synopsis: After a crushing defeat ended their prior season, everyone counted the Abilene Eagles out of title contention. Facing doubts and personal challenges both on and off the field, it takes the guidance of their team chaplain and a surrogate father figure (Milo Gibson) for the players to realize what they can achieve when they stand united.
My adoration for sports always gravitates me towards every athletic release, no matter how modest and overly-earnest they end up being. While the genre is certainly a dying breed in contemporary marketplaces (most new offerings like Safety are restricted to streaming), I still believe sport’s films have an untapped ceiling. Iconic efforts like Any Given Sunday and Moneyball analyze their sport’s taxing conditions while connecting to thoughtful conceits about life’s tumultuous sacrifices.
First-time director Todd Randall attempts a similar balance with Under the Stadium Lights, a well-intended football ensemble following the coming of age journey of athletes reaching the end of their high school days. Randall certainly has a pulse on worthwhile ideas, but the painfully cheap and downright inauthentic execution leaves audiences with an unwatchable blowout.
There’s a good film buried amidst Under the Stadium Lights’ after-school special delivery. Screenwriters John Collins and Hamid Torabpour wisely center their narrative around the athletes’ struggles off the field. Between absentee parents and the upcoming reality of their football mortality, glimmers of compelling drama become present. It’s clear the team involved understands the value of sports, as they properly weigh football’s communal power over a series of emptily energetic frames.
Good intentions are sadly the film’s only distinct strength. A majority of the runtime plays out like a poorly cobbled-together Friday Night Lights episode, clumsily dancing between humanistic character beats and roaring speeches without much cohesion. Neither of these elements strikes a genuine chord under Collins and Torabpour’s by-the-numbers screenplay. The characters serve as thankless amalgams of familial poverty struggles, with none of the four central protagonists having their own distinct personalities or agency. For a supposedly moving drama, everything is painted in such broad and simplistic strokes. I never felt like the movie reached authentic platitudes with its characters or world-building.
To put it bluntly, Under the Stadium Lights never defines a reason to exist. I can’t help thinking of all the pertinent and deeply moving real-life stories surrounding athletes’ dual struggles on and off the field. In a world where those stories never see the light of day, why do we need a faux crowdpleaser that only brings Hallmark-level depth and sentimentality to the table? Every story beat feels borrowed from far superior films, while Todd Randall’s director-for-hire effort doesn’t mask the inherent tiredness. Even stars Milo Gibson and Laurence Fishburn are just clearly here for the checks in their barebones roles.
Even as a sports movie apologist, Under the Stadium Lights’ lazy delivery does little to excite or inspire. I’ll always look forward to new sports movies, but hopefully whatever is next in the pipeline brings a lot more to the table.
Under the Stadium Lights releases on VOD and select theaters on June 4th.
