film reviews, interviews, features | BRWC

Author: Matt Conway

  • Long Weekend: The BRWC Review

    Long Weekend: The BRWC Review

    Long Weekend Synopsis: Bart’s (Finn Wittrock) chance encounter with the enigmatic Vienna (Zoe Chao) leads to a whirlwind weekend together. The two fall fast and hard, but both carry secrets that could be their undoing or the chance for a fresh start.

    With Netflix monopolizing the romantic comedy marketplace, the genre’s confectionary joys have seemingly faded away from the big screen. I’ve grown to miss these wistfully sweet movies, as the simple pleasure of seeing two stars connect often manifests into a heart-tugging experience. Even the bad ones have a certain allure with their inherently optimistic light, highlighting feel-good energy that’s desperately missing during these dour times.

    Fear not rom-com fans, as Sony is reviving the genre with their latest Long Weekend. Writer/director Stephen Basilone’s debut feature thankfully doesn’t settle for the genre’s barebones appeals, morphing familiar machinations to construct one of the best mainstream rom-coms in years.

    I must tread lightly discussing Basilone’s film, as some of its biggest appeals have thankfully been left for audiences to discover on their own accord (it’s thrilling to see a movie that doesn’t blatantly spoil its central twist in the trailers). For a debut feature, Basilone exhibits impressive poise and artistry behind the camera. His detailed visuals unearth the simmering emotions under Bart and Vienna’s relationship, matching the character’s grand emotions with a fittingly vibrant eye. The mixture of framing styles imbues a poignant sense of intimacy and liveliness, effectively breathing a creative verve that’s rarely present amongst its rom-com peers (seriously, most rom-coms look like TV pilots).

    In a genre that often embraces a sense of artifice, Long Weekend feels refreshingly established in genuine dynamics. Basilone’s script doesn’t shy away from the character’s flawed realities, often ruminating on depression and isolation without any mawkishness. The inventive twist finds thoughtful ways to portray these inner-turmoils while keeping audiences on their toes throughout the runtime. When Basilone finally lands on his emotionally raw frames, he thankfully earns his tugs at the heart-strings with dynamic and well-articulated conversations (his script comes from a very personal place). I also appreciate Basilone’s seamless comedic additions, with his sharp script never compromising the tonal presentation for cheap gags.

    None of these appealing qualities would work without the cast’s affable deliveries. Finn Wittrock and Zoe Chao make for an endlessly compelling pair onscreen. Their easy-going chemistry elevates the dramatic and comedic frames, with Wittrock’s subdued charisma being a fitting match for Chao’s effervescent light onscreen. A game supporting cast also shines in their passing-by roles. Jim Rash, Wendi McLendon-Covey, and Damon Wayans Jr. add some comedic sparkles without straining towards caricature deliveries (Wayans Jr. is such an underrated talented, exuding charm and vulnerability in his few frames as Bart’s supportive friend).

    Long Weekend ignores a majority of its rom-com trappings, but there are still some naggingly inauthentic conventions. Amidst a tight 91-minute runtime, Basilone constricts some of his character developments to surface-level discoveries. While Bart is employed with a well-rounded arc, I wish his script gave Vienna more dimension onscreen. Even while mocking the “manic pixie dream girl” archetype, Basilone occasionally steers the character towards that trope as she serves as Bart’s supportive yet thinly-developed anchor.

    Nitpicks aside, Long Weekend‘s endearing spell captured me from start to finish. Basilone’s debut feature impressively relays the optimistic open-heartedness of the genre’s best entries while still finding its own assured perspective. He has proved himself as an exciting talent to watch in the coming years.

    Long Weekend is now playing in theaters across the United States.

  • Moxie: The BRWC Review

    Moxie: The BRWC Review

    Moxie Synopsis: Inspired by her mom’s (Amy Poehler) rebellious past and a confident new friend, a shy 16-year-old (Hadley Robinson) publishes an anonymous zine calling out sexism at her school. Based on a novel by Jennifer Mathieu.

    Tackling toxic masculinity and the uneasy conformity that accepts these troubling behaviors, Moxie admirably highlights vital issues from a clever adolescent perspective. While it’s a joy to see director/co-star Amy Poehler stretch her comedic wings, her well-intended efforts can’t reach her sincere goals.

    Poehler’s heart is certainly in the right place with Moxie. The decision to craft a feminist project speaking to younger viewers offers something truly essential in the Hollywood marketplace. So many films of this ilk construct themselves in the image of what filmmakers think adolescents want to see, which often leads to a certain noisy emptiness.

    Here, Poehler unabashedly confronts pervasive societal issues within her critical perspective, with screenwriters Dylan Meyer and Tamara Chestna teaming up to give provide a supportive voice for a subsection that’s often ignored by Hollywood norms. The young cast also ably elevates their archetype roles. Hadley Robinson, Lauren Tsaim and Alycia Pascual-Pena add infectious vitriol that ably captures the character’s youthful spirits.

    Good intentions can only take Moxie’s material so far, however. Meyer and Chestna’s script tries to encompass the full spectrum of high school life alongside their thematic throughline (they jam-pack friendship drama, dating, mother-daughter dynamics, and bullies alongside the feminist bend). Amidst a slight runtime, few of these dynamics have room to breathe on screen. Most of the character developments seem borrowed from superior coming-of-age efforts, as the screenwriter duo consistently relies upon played-out devices to advance the narrative. I wish Moxie felt more like a grounded narrative and less like a greatest hits amalgamation of other high school films.

    When it comes to tackling the potent thematic dynamics, Moxie winds up feeling too toothless for its own good. Discussions geared towards sexual harassment, abuse, and society’s placating of men’s problematic behavior offer vital glimpses into the internal/external pressures facing women coming-of-age. These moments wind up feeling too far and few between, with many of the more complex dynamics being relegated to window dressing developments (a shocking confession comes in the final minutes but barely receives time to breathe). It’s just not enough to merely present issues to audiences. I was left wishing the script employed more bite and thought when it comes to these critical concepts.

    A bit more focus and nuance would’ve allowed Moxie to become a new young adult staple, but Amy Poehler’s film gets tripped up on its balance of hard-hitting subject matter intermixed with crowd-pleasing allures.

  • Sentinelle: Review

    Sentinelle: Review

    Sentinelle Synopsis: Transferred home after a traumatizing combat mission, Klara (Olga Kurylenko), a highly trained French soldier, uses her lethal skills to hunt down the man who hurt her sister.

    Netflix’s wide net of content gets marked as a roadblock to cinema’s success on the big screen. While streaming’s growth has made the industry more unpredictable, services like Netflix provide a platform for projects often underrepresented by industry norms. Last year alone, the streamer released one of the year’s most prolific international films (Atlantics) along with a few other low-key success stories (Lost Bullet and Rogue City).

    The streamer continues its inclusive streak with the French actioner Sentinelle. Featuring the assured talents of Olga Kurylenko as a recovering soldier, this no-nonsense twist on familiar genre trappings elevates above its low-rent peers.

    For Kurylenko, Sentinelle should be a welcomed stepping stone into action stardom. The former Bond starlet commands the screen as Klara, imbuing the character’s rigid persona with much-needed gravitas. Where some action films turn their heroes into blankly stoic everyman, Kurylenko ably develops layers upon the character’s persona. Klara’s struggles with PTSD and grief are effectively sold despite insular frames coming few and far between. The star’s poise and capabilities allow the material to engage despite its genre limitations.

    Sentinelle is certainly workman-like, but writer/director Julien Leclercq goes through familiar motions with craft and self-awareness. The filmmaker never forgets the genre pretenses he’s working under, constructing a hard-nosed actioner from his solemnly serious tonality. I really enjoyed Leclercq’s favoring of brutally intimate brawls, with his steady hand and inclusion of thoughtful stylistic choices enhancing the drama at hand (one of the few movies to use slow-motion without feeling tacky). His ability to keep a straight-faced presentation also prevents the material from drifting towards dated actioner mechanics. This isn’t a movie that glorifies its violence, rather using it as a tool to reflect Klara’s demons manifesting her revenge spree.

    Sentinelle’s relentless 80-minute runtime keeps audiences engaged throughout. However, Leclercq’s effort rarely stretches past conventional norms. The screenplay happily goes through the motions without finding opportunities to subvert expectations. I admire a filmmaker knowing exactly the kind of film he wants to create, but his action would’ve flourished if intertwined with a delve deeper into Klara’s demons (the sister character is utilized as a careless plot initiator).

    For better and for worse, Sentinelle sticks to its conventional action movie cards. Under Kurylenko and Leclercq’s hands, that limited approach still elicits an engaging yarn for audiences to untangle.

  • Cosmic Sin: Review

    Cosmic Sin: Review

    Cosmic Sin Synopsis: In the year 2524, four centuries after humans started colonizing the outer planets, retired Gen. James Ford (Bruce Willis) gets called back into service after a hostile alien fleet attacks soldiers on a remote planet. The threat against mankind soon escalates into an interstellar war as Ford and a team of elite soldiers try to stop the imminent attack before it’s too late.

    After decades of being a headliner on the silver screen, Bruce Willis has transitioned to the menial yet busy reality of VOD action stardom (Willis has been in six films over the last two years alone). As Willis’ gruff persona continues to morph into detached disinterest, it has started to show in his slapdash efforts.

    While propped up with glimmers of filmmaking ingenuity, the star’s latest low-budget vehicle Cosmic Sin lands with an oppressive sense of deja vu. This wayward science fiction effort likely won’t be remembered long after its inconsequential narrative hits the closing credits.

    For a film with clear B-movie intentions, Cosmic Sin needlessly complicates the proceedings. Edward Drake and Corey Large strike a few humorous chords with their machismo banter (characters swear with reckless abandon), but their narrative gets bloated in a mush of meaningless world-building. Early scenes throw window dressing information at the audience without any cohesiveness or personality. It’s a screenplay that feels drawn from a bin of formulaic efforts, never establishing an identity to color the familiar trappings.

    While indie efforts can imbue enough spirit to conceal their limitations, Cosmic Sin ignites little with its auto-pilot delivery. The action beats are pushed aside for wordy frames of exposition, with the script’s development creating characters far too inert to care for. It would help if the film’s marquee stars propped up the stagnant writing, yet most of the runtime goes by with them being nowhere to be found. Frank Grillo has nothing to do in a passing-by role, while Bruce Willis seems half-asleep in his emptily gruff role. There’s nothing of interest here when the action isn’t onscreen.

    Misgivings aside, Cosmic Sin presents a few sparks of promise. Edward Drake’s direction shows glimmers of arresting visceral scale, hitting soaring heights within a few high-flying space sequences. Drake playfully honors his 80’s influences while finding inspired ways to dress up blandly-flavored scenes. He certainly props up the standard-issue formula, keeping audiences somewhat involved even when the material isn’t up to snuff.

    Cosmic Sin isn’t a complete misfire, but its sluggish runtime doesn’t strike any chords worth remembering.

    Cosmic Sin is In Theaters, On Demand and On Digital March 12, 2021.

  • Tom And Jerry: Another Review

    Tom And Jerry: Another Review

    Tom and Jerry Synopsis: One of the most beloved rivalries in history is reignited when Jerry moves into New York City’s finest hotel on the eve of “the wedding of the century,” forcing Kayla (Chole Grace Moretz), the event’s desperate planner, to hire Tom to get rid of him. The ensuing cat and mouse battle threatens to destroy her career, the wedding and possibly the hotel itself.

    Hollywood can’t help itself when it comes to reviving beloved properties. This rapid occurrence seems to impact children’s films more than most, with decades of woeful adaptations (The Smurfs and Alvin and the Chipmunks) displaying the industry’s lackluster understanding of these properties’ origins.

    History sadly repeats itself with Warner Brothers’ new Tom and Jerry film, which begrudgingly trades in the show’s pratfall strengths for an unnecessary and overworked busyness.

    When director Tim Story’s film isn’t getting in its own way, there’s actually some gleeful slapstick moments to indulge in. A cross between traditional 2D animation and live-action opens creative new opportunities for Tom and Jerry to continue their long-standing rivalry. Story’s work operates at its best when displaying the all-out mania of their clashes, letting the two playfully morph a puffy hotel into a battleground for their carnage to ensue. There’s even a few modern touches that complement the frantic sequences well. The inclusion of uptempo hip hop instrumentals adds a lively pulse to the chaotic frames, while veteran stars Chole Grace Moretz and Michael Pena add some charms with their comedic personas.

    However, most of Tom and Jerry’s runtime ignores its promising nucleus. One would think all a Tom and Jerry movie needs to do is provide a relentless array of slapstick gags, a feat that the beloved show accomplished throughout its duration. Instead, Tom and Jerry traverses down an all-too-familiar rabbit hole of family film contrivances. Between the lazily-implemented references and lackluster subplots (including forced third-act melodrama), Story’s film conforms far too often to thankless studio mandates.

    How many times can a studio thoughtlessly butcher properties before they change their ways? Virtually every one of these kid adaptations adds a human element that registers with a stale, clumsy, and wholly unnecessary aftertaste. The actors try their best to prop up their thinly-constructed characters, but Kevin Costello’s screenplay never shifts out of its autopilot delivery. As the runtime goes on and the character drama quickly takes center stage, Tom and Jerry loses all momentum before eventually overstaying its welcome.

    I wanted desperately to get behind Tom and Jerry’s screwball energy, but a bevy of poorly-thought decisions gets in the film’s way at every turn. Either way, I am glad this film’s financial success may be a step to normalcy for the industry’s year-long struggles.