film reviews, interviews, features | BRWC

Author: Matt Conway

  • We Have A Ghost: The BRWC Review

    We Have A Ghost: The BRWC Review

    We Have A Ghost Synopsis: The discovery that their house is haunted by a ghost named Ernest makes Kevin’s family a social media sensation. But when Kevin and Ernest get to the bottom of the mystery of Ernest’s past, they become targets of the CIA.

    Introverted teenager Kevin befriends a mysterious ghost named Earnest when moving into his new house. The duo forms an unlikely pair when embarking on a crusade to discover Earnest’s hidden past in Netflix’s We Have a Ghost. 

    Years of haunting horror features and “real-world” investigative shows continue to paint ghosts as nefarious spectrums lurking around the corner. In the hands of Happy Death Day writer/director Christopher Landon, We Have a Ghost takes a decidedly more sentimental approach as the friendly Earnest searches for peace amidst a world that writes him off at every turn. 

    Landon’s intriguing “Casper meets the social media age” premise is a novel concept on paper. It’s just a shame that the promising pieces never form a satisfying and cohesive experience.

    I’ve always admired Landon for his distinctive vision behind the camera. With features like Freaky and Happy Death Day 2U, the horror auteur artistically swings for the fences in intriguing genre fusions that play by their own creative rules. I can’t say I always love the end result of his ambitious efforts (I am one of the few who didn’t care for the original Happy Death Day), but I always leave his films with a sense of appreciation for their unique qualities. 

    We Have a Ghost exemplifies Landon’s strengths and weaknesses as a writer/director. His film operates at its best when zeroing in on the central relationship between Kevin and Earnest – a wordless ghost who communicates via mumbles and expressive movements. Charm City Kings star Jahi Di’Allo Winston delivers an assured lead performance as Kevin that skillfully elevates the character’s archetype foundation, while David Harbour carries gravitas and charm in bringing the specter Earnest to life. This central arc continues Landon’s trend of demystifying horror tropes with refreshing emotional authenticity. When the film gives both characters room to connect, watching their natural bond grow onscreen is a true delight. 

    Unfortunately, We Have a Ghost is haunted by its muddled execution of a worthwhile idea. Landon’s screenplay features a lot of narrative threads in its overcomplicated web, including the distant father-son relationship between Kevin and his father Frank (played by Anthony Mackie), the search for Earnest’s past, social media’s newfound obsession with Earnest, a slew of ghost experts looking to capture Earnest and several other subplots that I don’t want to waste your time mentioning. As you can guess, the script ends up being a clunky crockpot of ideas and concepts that never marinate cohesively. Some of the arcs exist exclusively to add unwarranted steaks, including a third-act twist that woefully missises in its attempt to inject additional tension. 

    I can see where some of the threads have merit. Juxtaposing the all-consuming spotlight of the social media bubble against Kevin and Earnest’s sincere relationship is a sound way to reflect on society’s commodification of unexplainable spectacles. In execution, the idea, and several other intriguing subplots, are left with no room to breathe. It does not help that We Have a Ghost is Landon’s blandest directorial effort to date. His usual panache for high-energy craftsmanship and inventive stylistic flourishes is noticeably absent as the director conforms to the flavorless Netflix visual sheen. 

    I applaud We Have a Ghost for trying something new in the crowded supernatural space. It boasts remarkable spirit in its pursuits, but the film’s good intentions never build into an assured feature. 

    We Have a Ghost is now playing on Netflix.  

  • Sharper: The BRWC Review

    Sharper: The BRWC Review

    Sharper Synopsis: A small, wealthy family in New York City gets progressively torn apart by secrets, lies, and the theft that orchestrates all of it.

    A complex web of lies and deceit emerges in a socialite family infiltrated by cunning con artists in Apple+’s latest feature, Sharper. The captivating intrigue embedded in mystery narratives continue receiving newfound life across various films (Knives Out and Vengeance) and TV programs (Poker Face and The After Party). The genre’s sudden popularization is an exciting development, allowing filmmakers an opportunity to define their distinct perspectives within time-honored mystery trends. 

    In the hands of director Benjamin Caron and screenwriters Alessandro Tanaka and Brian Gatewood, Sharper spins an evolving roller coaster ride that corkscrews through several compelling twists and turns. The chaotic experience may not add up to the sum of its sumptuous parts, but Sharper still extracts a razor-sharp slice of dopey entertainment. 

    Mystery yarns like Sharper display a forgotten truth about movies. Sometimes, it’s more important to emphasize how a story is told rather than the narrative itself. Caron, Tanaka, and Gatewood take that philosophy to heart as they elevate somewhat familiar ingredients at every turn. 

    Following accomplished TV directorial efforts with The Crown and Andor, Caron showcases his refined precision behind the camera. He and cinematographer Charlotte Bruus Christensen bask in the luxurious world of their high-class setting, deploying a lush and sleek visual sheen to accentuate their film’s glossy appeals. Caron also defines a sense of palpable momentum underneath his pristine imagery. The director controls the material like a savvy conductor, knowing the perfect times to heighten the boiling tension with dynamic edits and other stylistic infusions. 

    Sharper’s con game allures benefit significantly from its assured ensemble cast. Sebastian Stan possesses remarkable range as an actor, often utilizing a charismatic facade to hide some of his characters’ underlying mania (2022’s Fresh). As the devilish Max, Stan imbues undeniable presence into a deranged con artist. Julianne Moore gives a fascinating performance within a performance as Madeline remains a constant enigma to those around her, while Brianna Middleton and Justice Smith skillfully anchor the film’s dramatic core with their sensitive deliveries. 

    On a narrative front, Sharper’s provides a dual-edged experience. I applaud Gatewood and Tanaka for the creative risk-taking featured throughout their clever screenplay. At its best, the movie’s narrative keeps viewers constantly second-guessing their own expectations, with the screenwriters dreaming up some well-thought subversions that make the mysterious yarn an engaging mess to unravel. The utilization of different perspectives is another thoughtful touch. Each narrative chapter gradually pieces together the dissident puzzle pieces in a dramatically satisfying manner. 

    Other elements of the screenplay feel undernourished by comparison. Sharper is entirely vacant in substantive departments. The characters are thin amalgams of various stock cliches, rarely defining a lived-in presence amidst the constant barrage of plot twists. Thematically, there are glimmers where the narrative sharpens its knife toward the callous behaviors of the rich, but these brief moments never build to a satisfying thesis. These shortcomings limit Sharper to being an enjoyable yet ephemeral experience that will likely fade from viewers’ memory banks. 

    What Sharper lacks in nuance and lasting impact, the film readily makes up for in its earnest chase of evolving thrills. 

    Sharper is now playing on Apple+.

  • Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon: Review

    Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon: Review

    Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon Synopsis: In 19th century Qing Dynasty China, a warrior (Chow Yun-Fat) gives his sword, Green Destiny, to his long-time friend (Michelle Yeoh) to deliver to safe keeping, but it is stolen from an emerging warrior (Ziyi Zhang), and the chase is on to find it. The search leads to the House of Yu, where the story takes on a whole different level.

    Two storied Wudang warriors come face-to-face with a new master who possesses the iconic Green Destiny sword in Ang Lee’s beloved martial arts epic, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.

    Personally, I love when movies are restored to the big screen. Getting a chance to experience time-honored features for the first time in their proper format is a true gift as a film fan. In 2022, I was enraptured by the icey tensions of John Carptenter’s The Thing and also enjoyed returning to the childhood wonder I experienced with Avatar back in 2009. Sure, some of these classics I can watch at home at my convenience, but to me, nothing tops the grandiosity and scale of a big-screen viewing experience. 

    With Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon’s 4K re-release, I was beyond excited to indulge in a cinematic blindspot of mine from one of my favorite directors. Thankfully, the experience did not disappoint.

    I cannot sing enough praise about Ang Lee. With features like Lust, Caution, Brokeback Mountain, and the criminally underrated Gemini Man, Lee showcases rare poise as a storyteller. His movies always possess a sense of gentle tranquility, quietly reflecting on challenging quandaries with affectionate and aching humanity. On a technical end, Lee is also incredibly innovative, pushing new cinematic boundaries that test the format’s limits. 

    It’s easy to see why many consider Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon Lee’s treasured opus. He and martial arts coordinator Yuen Wo-ping create a true martial arts marvel. Every setpiece is boundless in its creativity and high-flying movements, with the camera dynamically dancing through the imaginative wonder of each fascinating clash. 

    Most importantly, Lee ensures that the action beats are purposeful tools to heighten his narrative. The crashing roar of clashing swords, the graceful traversal of characters floating through the landscape, and the underlying tensions of each encounter all serve as essential elements in creating emotionally-charged moments. Each detail of the film, from the breathtaking vistas to the immersive production design, is composed with remarkable skill by Lee and his filmmaking team. 

    The storytelling in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon is equally adept. Lee and the screenwriting team of Hui-Ling Wang, James Schamus and Kuo Jung Tsai craft a true Hollywood epic. The film presents an enthralling sense of scale as it effortlessly highlights the insular dynamics of several characters. We have our central Wundang warriors – Master Li Mu Bai and Yu Shu Lien – two interconnected masters of their craft who harbor unacted romantic feelings for one another. There’s the emerging martial arts master Jen, an heiress from an elitist family who wistfully dreams of an adventurous life, and her sinister master Jade Fox. Fox is not only a rival to Mu Bai for murdering his master, but also a discarded remnant of a traditional society that shunned her very existence. 

    The screenplay awards each of these characters with remarkable textures. There’s such romanticism and depth in the ways Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon reckons with its characters, truly toiling in their struggles with an attentiveness that action movies rarely showcase. The arc of Jen is a particular standout. Her battle against the chauvinist patriarchy of her traditional society makes her a profoundly empathetic force, but the conflict also opens her up to a complex ethical dilemma. The film pays meticulous attention to her morality, whether she will embrace her remarkable skills for good or succumb to the anger and frustration stemming from her treatment in society. In all senses, these well-calibrated arcs display humanity in its most intimate and affecting states. 

    The performances also elevate the movie’s strength. Chow Yun-Fat carries the gravitas of a statured warrior as Master Li Mu Bai, and Michelle Yeoh commands the screen with poise and dynamism as Yu Shu Lieh. Both actors develop palpable chemistry onscreen as even their wordless exchanges still carry expressive feelings at every turn. Ultimately, Ziyi Zhang is the film’s true beating heart as Jen. She displays exuberance and complexion throughout, effectively bringing the character’s nuanced plights to life. 

    I rarely get to go to the cinema and discover a new all-time favorite film. Thankfully, the re-release of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon gave me that exhilarating experience. This is a masterful and emotionally sumptuous work that will continue to stand the test of time. 

    Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon is now in theaters and available on home media. 

  • Pathaan: Another Review

    Pathaan: Another Review

    Pathaan Synopsis: Pathaan, an Indian spy, takes on the leader of a mercenary group with nefarious plans to target his homeland with a deadly pathogen.

    Super spy Pathaan confronts his biggest test yet when he faces off against Jim – a former operative turned rogue terrorist – who looks to eradicate the world in Pathaan.

    Hollywood action films are currently stuck in a stale no man’s land. While the dynamic killing sprees of John Wick and Gerald Butler’s refreshing 80s throwbacks deliver some excitement, the genre is still a far cry away from its iconic heyday. Most actioners that remain embrace the same tired aesthetics, recycling a well-trudged formula that shows a desperate need for new infusions.

    Fortunately, the international action film scene continues to pick up the slack. Novel success stories like The Raid: Redemption, The Night Comes For Us, and 2022’s breakout RRR showcase trailblazing efforts crafted with remarkable verve and creativity. The latest Indian actioner to arrive stateside, Pathaan, continues the innovative trend in its own remarkably assured voice. Director Siddharth Anand and his creative company conjure a globetrotting spectacle bursting with crowd-pleasing allures.

    Anand’s fearless craftsmanship behind the camera is an exhilarating jolt of electricity for the genre. The director never lets his budgetary restrictions limit his imagination (the cost here is roughly $27 million, which is considered inexpensive for most action efforts). Instead, he deftly understands cinema as a visceral medium, drawing an evocative world full of enthralling vistas and lavish outfits. There’s a captivating momentum to Anand’s bold visual style that’s consistently intoxicating to get lost in. I also admire his ability to elevate seemingly ordinary plot beats into compelling moments, such as an expressive moment of romantic courtship serenaded by provocative and uptempo house music.

    When it comes to the action scenes, Pathaan swings for the fences in its numerous high-wire setpieces. The sheer inventiveness behind each pulsating sequence’s choreography and staging elicited wide-eyed wonderment from me. Whether Pathaan is swaying from one tightrope to another amidst a towering skyscraper or engaged in a daring motorcycle chase across snow-covered mountains, the action here draws breathtaking thrills that few contemporary actioners can match. Additionally, Anand imbues remarkable precision in bringing these beats to life. His steady camerawork benefits from deft inclusions of slow-motion and other stylistic techniques. Thankfully, his stylistic touch always enhances the action’s infectious mania.

    On a narrative front, Pathaan spotlights some alluring strengths. Anand and co-screenwriter Shridhar Raghavan enhance several familiar narrative tenants through their articulate lens. Numerous action movies touch upon blinding nationalism and bureaucracy discarding soldiers as disposable remnants, but Pathaan utilizes both conceits to tell a story of one man rising above politicization to fight for humanity’s best interests. Of course, it helps that star Shah Rukh Khan makes for a charismatic leading man. His debonair swagger and dramatic gravitas mold Pathaan into a transfixing protagonist, while John Abraham injects sinister menace into his rival Jim.

    Other elements of Pathaan’s screenplay do exhibit some shagginess. The film can stumble into its fair share of hokey moments as didactic dialogue exchanges stiffly explain some of the film’s intriguing nuances. Additionally, I don’t think the movie warrants its bloated 146-minute runtime. There are a few narrative threads that end up feeling completely superfluous in the grand scheme of the narrative’s true objectives.

    I was still enamored by Pathaan and the imaginative reckless abandon it brings to the action film formula. I hope western audiences continue to embrace international actioners and the fresh perspective they bring to the genre.

    Pathaan is now playing in theaters.

  • Marlowe: The BRWC Review

    Marlowe: The BRWC Review

    Marlowe Synopsis: As bad business and loneliness are taking their toll on private detective Philip Marlowe (Liam Neeson), a beautiful blonde arrives and asks him to find her ex-lover, which proves to be just a small part of a bigger mystery.

    Famed private detective Philip Marlowe returns to the silver screen in Marlowe. 

    It would not be the year’s initial months without the presence of a new Liam Neeson genre vehicle. The surprise success of 2009’s Taken has spawned a decade-plus onslaught of action vehicles for Neeson. Many of them, such as The Grey, Run All Night, and Non-Stop, offer assured thrill rides bolstered by the undeniable presence of Neeson and his hard-edged persona. 

    After years of prosperous offerings, Neeson is now stuck producing dwindling results. Honest Thief, The Marksman, and 2022’s Blacklight all provided beige and aggressively forgettable experiences that sleepwalked their way in and out of theaters. What once represented a source of creative vitality for Neeson has gradually become a hackneyed ruse for studios to milk money out of the actor’s former glory days.

    I possessed hope that Marlowe could reignite my interest in Neeson-led vehicles. Based on author Raymond Chandler’s famed noir series, the film attempts to capture the alluring atmosphere of the 1940s/1950s period classics – a noble gesture considering the genre has evaporated from mainstream cinemas. Instead, this reboot of Marlowe is a voiceless and apathetic charade of noir sensibilities. 

    So much of Marlowe feels like an enigma, but not in the compelling way one would expect a mysterious yarn to be. The film is more of an unknown to itself, drawing a filmgoing experience that vies for a familiar yet treasured cinematic sensibility before missing the mark completely. 

    Marlowe’s failures are even more bewildering when considering the vast talent on display. Interview with a Vampire director Neil Jordan is a stalwart craftsman whose work is often sumptuous in its visceral style and captivating mood. With Marlowe, Jordan’s talents feel constricted at every turn. The director crafts a flat aesthetic vacant of any vibrant noir flourishes. The drab lighting, murky, one-note color grading, and unconvincing sets give the impression of a makeshift production lacking a lived-in sense of place (the film is set in Los Angeles but was mostly shot in Dublin and Spain). Mood and setting are critical pillars of noir storytelling, which makes settling on a lifeless, straight-to-VOD visual profile a notable disservice to Marlowe’s beloved genre ancestors.

    Oscar-winning screenwriter William Monahan is similarly out of his depth. Monahan’s penchant for modern true crime narratives does not translate well within the confines of a more reserved approach. Old-school noirs often excelled in their ambiguity, with characters dispensing cunning dialogue exchanges and cloaking their inner thoughts under shadowy pretenses. Unfortunately, Monahan’s attempts at revitalizing this distinctive style draw stagnant results. Character spout exposition jargon throughout, but none of these exchanges work to build intriguing characters or narrative momentum. Much of the story feels like it’s simply treading water before reaching an uneventful and predictable final act conclusion. 

    Not even a skilled cast can draw life into flatlining material. As hardened detective Philip Marlowe, Neeson looks indifferent throughout the production. His competent yet simplistic tough guy act never draws much nuance or perspective into the famed detective. Moreover, the lack of personality Neeson imbues makes his performance feel like a middling imitation of what other skilled actors have already achieved with the character (Elliot Gould and Humphrey Bogart previously played Marlowe). Diane Kruger, Jessica Lange, and Alan Cumming add some professionalism to the mix, but the trio is given little opportunity to elevate the proceedings. 

    During an incompetently staged action scene, Marlowe mutters that “he’s getting too old for this.” It’s a tired cliche that perfectly illustrates the uninspired results Marlowe brings to the table. 

    Neeson’s best action movies showcased a sincere appreciation for various subgenres, whether it’s the campy B-movie thrills present in The Commuter or the page-turning intrigue of The Unknown. Now, films like Marlowe just read like a shell of the genre pastiche they half-heartedly try to mirror. 

    Marlowe is now playing in theaters.