Author: Matt Conway

  • Boogie: The BRWC Review

    Boogie: The BRWC Review

    Synopsis: Alfred “Boogie” Chin (Taylor Takahashi), a basketball phenom living in Queens, N.Y., dreams of one day playing in the NBA. While his parents pressure him to focus on earning a scholarship to an elite college, Boogie must find a way to navigate a new girlfriend (Taylour Paige), high school, on-court rivals (Pop Smoke), and the burden of expectation.

    Set amidst the bustling streets of New York, Boogie arrives as the latest coming of age drama to portray struggles of the adolescent milieu. Fresh off the Boat creator Eddie Huang isn’t interested in telling a run-of-the-mill journey of self-discovery, with the first-time writer/director zeroing his sights on an aspiring Asian basketball player’s search for self outside of his familial burden.

    Huang’s effort displays some noticeable debut blemishes, but his endearing story infuses enough energy and authenticity to score where it counts.

    Similar to its revered genre peers, Boogie finds its comfort zone within finite observations. Huang admirably delves into the revolving wheel of pressures facing Boogie’s day-to-day reality. Struggles with school, sports and dating could seem fairly familiar, but Huang wisely imbues Boogie’s perspective with more thought and intimacy.

    His ability to encompass Boogie’s cultural struggles in a buttoned-up Asian family adds a much-needed familial pulse to the myriad of subplots. Star Taylor Takahashi makes a promising debut as the aspiring hooper, matching the character’s swaggering edge with some much-needed vulnerability. Perhaps the true breakout comes from recently-passed rap star Pop Smoke, who takes a thanklessly straightforward role and delivers an intoxicating presence onscreen as a rival hooper. Whenever the film focuses on their tense dynamic, it sings with unease and unkempt emotions (the addition of Pop Smoke tracks is a welcomed inclusion).

    Huang’s ambition exceeds his reach at times, particularly when truncating a busy narrative into an 89-minute runtime. Even amidst the struggles, Huang’s lively hand behind the director’s chair keeps audiences’ interest. A mixture of dynamic framing and uptempo music choices aptly convey New York’s endless hive of activity. As a basketball fanatic, I give Huang credit for being one of the few directors to employ dynamism into his hooper frames. The smooth movements and intense action displays the sport’s freneticism while never overplaying these frames into Hollywood theatrics.

    Even though Boogie gets a lot right, audiences will have to sift through the film’s messy delivery to make those discoveries. Huang’s debut leans too much into tired coming-of-age mechanics, often relying upon these devices to push forward the narrative’s pertinent themes. The overworked obviousness of these dynamics (Boogie has to write an essay about coming of age) detracts from any attempts at discovering deeper nuances. Huang’s material also proves to be far too busy for its own good, with certain subplots rarely getting the necessary time to leave an impact (Taylour Paige does a good job as Boogie’s love interest, but her character never becomes more than that).

    Similar to its protagonist, Boogie scores more points with its style than substance. In Eddie Huang’s well-intended hands, that decision works enough to propel his agreeable coming of age story forward.

    Focus Features releases Boogie in theaters on March 5th.

  • Chaos Walking: The BRWC Review

    Chaos Walking: The BRWC Review

    Chaos Walking Synopsis: In the not-too-distant future, Todd Hewitt (Tom Holland) discovers Viola (Daisy Ridley), a mysterious girl who crash lands on his planet, where all the women have disappeared and the men are afflicted by “the Noise” – a force that puts all their thoughts on display. In this dangerous landscape, Viola’s life is threatened – and as Todd vows to protect her, he will have to discover his own inner power and unlock the planet’s dark secrets. Based on the Patrick Ness novel The Knife of Never Letting Go.

    Some films can never escape their tumultuous pre-release narratives, with those hardships often defining what the patchwork final product ends up becoming. Lionsgate’s long-awaited blockbuster Chaos Walking has certainly endured some of these challenges. After being filmed nearly four years ago (featuring reshoots a few years back with a different director), the film is seeing the light of day after a series of unfortunate delays.

    Collaborated on by a myriad of talents (Charlie Kaufman, John Lee Hancock, and author Patrick Ness all provided drafts of the screenplay), Chaos Walking presents some promise as a dystopian exploration of inequitable gender dynamics, religion and the suppression of individual beliefs in a collective society. While not without some earnest merits, this largely discombobulated effort feels every bit of its taped-together design.

    I can see why Ness’ novel registered with audiences. High-concept science fiction stories like Chaos speak to societal quandaries in ways that are accessible and briskly entertaining. The idea of the “Noise” presents some thoughtful opportunities to dive into the human mind, particularly one that has been distorted by an environment of misinformation and toxic masculinity. An all-star cast helps propel this conceit forward, with Tom Holland and Daisey Ridley capably livening their relatively barebones roles. Mads Mikkelsen’s sinister conviction as a corrupt town leader registers some necessary tension, while the surprisingly deep supporting roster sells even the most bizarre of roles (Demain Bichir, Cynthia Erivo, and David Oyelowo make up the over-qualified cast).

    Despite a promising foundation, Chaos Walking stumbles under the weight of its own pretenses. For a novel that batts around several thoughtful ideas, the film’s lackluster adaptation of these conceits drains the material of any substance. None of the thematic arcs have time to breathe across a relentless 109-minute runtime, as audiences can only grasp on to thinly-sketched shadings of what could have been. It doesn’t help that the characters are left in a thanklessly shallow condition. Holland and Ridley are rewarded little to work with as blandly-flavored do-gooders, leaving the two desperately trying to meld a sense of comradery that isn’t there on the page.

    Similar to other notoriously troubled productions (Fantastic Four and After Earth), Chaos Walking never develops a succinct identity. There’s a clumsy clash onscreen between the film’s YA blockbuster aspirations and its more weighty concepts. You can see where the script tries to formulate itself into the popular YA formula (Hunger Games and Divergent), but that decision completely mitigates the nuances that made the novel work on the page. The film tries to marry both sensibilities into one without doing either identity justice in the process.

    Even as a big-screen entertainment, Chaos Walking leaves something to be desired. Director Doug Liman has proven his adept ability in the action sphere (Edge of Tomorrow is one of the best blockbusters of recent memory), which makes his blasé delivery here a disappointment to see. Liman never finds a visually-arresting way to convey the “Noise” and its lingering impacts, settling on clouds of thought bubbles that lack creative artistry. The rest of the big-budget production registers with a relatively cheap aroma, as a series of generic action setpieces and poorly-graded images leaves nothing but a bitter aftertaste.

    No artistic creation deserves to exist in a state of endless purgatory, so I am glad to see Chaos Walking finally hitting theaters. That being said, this incomplete and undefined franchise-starter gets nowhere close to its idealistic goals.

    Chaos Walking debuts in theaters on March 5th.

  • Boss Level: The BRWC Review

    Boss Level: The BRWC Review

    Boss Level Synopsis: Roy (Frank Grillo), A retired special forces officer, is trapped in a never-ending time loop on the day of his death. To escape this endless eternity, he must reconnect with his ex Jemma (Naomi Watts) and stop her nefarious boss Colonel Clive Ventor (Mel Gibson) from ending the world.

    Once Hollywood sees a concept sniff success, a once revelatory idea often morphs into a tired marketing tactic. Time loop narratives have certainly begun to experience this phenomenon. It all started with the success of early 2010’s efforts Source Code and Edge of Tomorrow, which opened the doors for filmmakers to reinvent the “Groundhog Day” concept from their own perspective. Fresh spins on the time loop narrative like Palm Springs and Happy Death Day left a sizable mark with their crafty innovations.

    After all of this exploration, the concept is starting to reach its creative expiration date with audiences. As a byproduct of poor timing (the film was originally filmed in 2018) and uneven execution, Joe Carnahan’s latest Boss Level travels through its repetitive loop without bringing much new to the table.

    Through the inconsistencies, there’s actually a promising nucleus of a film here. Carnahan’s slick visual edge makes a fitting complement to the concept’s relentlessly bombastic allures. His creatively-drawn action scenes shamelessly bask in the film’s endless cycle of violence while also mining a few cheeky jokes at the expense of Hollywood’s played-out action formula. Star Frank Grillo also deserves recognition for his gruff action star appeals. He wisely matches the character’s bitting cynicism with some much-needed humanity, creating an earnest everyman that draws the audience’s interest (his playful comedic touch enhances several one-note gags).

    Boss Level works in bits and pieces, but the whole experience travels through a malaise of familiarity. Carnahan leans heavily into the 80’s action movie aesthetic without ever striking a genuine voice inside the pastiche. His script (collaborated on by The Borey Brothers and Carnahan) strains itself badly on cool-guy machismo dialogue, with several lines landing with an overworked awkwardness that detracts from the action onscreen. Attempts to accent the scenery with obvious needle drops and bizarrely-implemented color-grading show a general lack of tactfulness throughout the experience (why does everything here look so run-down and cheap? It’s a 45 million dollar movie!).

    Where Boss Level would have felt innovative a decade ago, it now lands with a certain tiredness. The script’s basic-level plotting gets stuck in melodramatic contrivances, often overworking the simplistic mechanics in unsuccessful attempts to elicit a connection. There’s also rarely a moment where Carnahan steers away from a straightforward and repetitive narrative roadmap. Similar to Roy’s empty journey through the same day, I felt a distant ambivalence towards the story’s lack of interesting surprises.

    Boss Level presents a few glimmers of low-rent actioner entertainment, but the film’s all-too-familiar premise rarely breaks new ground amongst its crowded subgenre.

    Boss Level debuts on Hulu on March 5th

  • Raya And The Last Dragon: The BRWC Review

    Raya And The Last Dragon: The BRWC Review

    Raya and the Last Dragon Synopsis: Long ago, in the fantasy world of Kumandra, humans and dragons lived together in harmony. However, when sinister monsters known as the Druun threatened the land, the dragons sacrificed themselves to save humanity. Now, 500 years later, those same monsters have returned, and it’s up to a lone warrior (Kelly Marie Tran) to track down the last dragon (Awkwafina) and stop the Druun for good.

    Disney’s animated empire boasts an affectionately timeless resonance, with the House of Mouse crafting generations of family-friendly entries to inspire the masses (putting aside Disney’s disastrous stretch in the mid-2000s). Now approaching a whopping 59th film, the studio’s latest project Raya and the Last Dragon connects to their tried and true narrative traditions inside a lushly-drawn fantasy landscape. While Raya doesn’t reach any revelatory heights, the film does extenuate the allures of Disney’s enduring sense of magic and creativity.

    As 3D animation evolves into an intricate and astonishingly humanistic artform, each new project revels in a viscerally-inventive feast for the eyes. Raya is no exception, with directors Don Hall and Carlos López Estrada skillfully immersing audiences in Kumandra’s lively range of locals. Each setpiece sings with vivid detail and free-flowing framing, energetically zipping audiences along while establishing an assured sense of place.

    For better and sometimes worse, Raya and the Last Dragon bears no pretensions in becoming significantly grander than its straightforward adventure pretenses. Under Estrada and Hall’s tutelage, the film maintains a sense of engagement through the lingering familiarity. A relentless pace keeps a wave of charismatic comedic characters and well-choreographed action setpieces flying at the screen with mostly winning results. I seriously can’t speak highly enough about tense combative frames, as each swashbuckling sequence holds precision akin to live-action features.

    I also credit Raya and the Last Dragon’s dynamic cast for keeping the material above water. Kelly Marie Tran and Awkwafina are a delightfully playful pair as a well-matched odd couple. Tran’s gravitas morphs Raya’s quest into a personal odyssey for recovery, while Awkwafina’s bubbly comedic pop elevates even the most simplistic of gags. It helps that the two are surrounded by an equally-personable supporting cast, with Benedict Wong, Daniel Dae Kim, and Gemma Chan enhancing their worthy roles.

    Even with my enjoyment, it’s a letdown to see Raya’s narrative settle for relatively slight goals. The film never stretches towards any meaningful thematic dynamics, settling on earnest yet thinly-veiled ruminations about trust and empathy’s essential connective powers. Emotionally, Raya’s sturdy arc rarely receives proper moments of reflection. This film desperately lacks the kind of soaring, iconically open-hearted sequences that made revered classics like The Lion King and Mulan stand the test of time.

    Still, Raya and the Last Dragon mostly shines throughout its agreeable runtime. Disney fans are sure to be delighted by this film’s deft mixture of humor and adventurous frames.

    Raya and the Last Dragon premiers in theaters and Disney+ Premier Access on March 5th.

  • Cherry: The BRWC Review

    Cherry: The BRWC Review

    Synopsis: Cherry (Tom Holland) drifts from college dropout to army medic in Iraq – anchored only by his true love, Emily (Ciara Bravo). After returning from the war with PTSD, his life spirals into drugs and crime as he struggles to find his place in the world. Based on Nico Walker’s auto-biographical novel.

    After helming a quartet of Marvel Cinematic Universe films (including a little-known series called The Avengers), Anthony and Joe Russo find themselves at an interesting career crossroads. Where can a pair of previously unheralded directors go after crafting some of the most profitable franchise films of all time?

    Now operating outside their typical sphere with creative carte blanche, Cherry is The Russo Brothers’ well-intended stretch into weighty dramatic fare. Their go-for-broke attempts to adapt Walker’s sprawling auto-biography isn’t without filmmaking flair, though it’s those exact quirks that ultimately prove to be the duo’s biggest downfall.

    There’s directing with style…and then there’s throwing the kitchen sink at audiences to see what sticks. Cherry spends most of its bloated runtime in the latter category. Taking a page out of Martin Scorsese’s vibrant playbook (the internalized narration and several long-take frames make the influence apparent), The Russos implement a myriad of confectionary aesthetics to try and relay Cherry’s internal hardships.

    The reckless frenzy of techniques borders on obnoxiously edgy posturing, as there’s rarely a moment of quiet reflection between the chaos. Why use the cinematic medium of film to subliminally relay a discovery when you can yell your point across with blunt devices? An array of familiar song choices and in-your-face framing choices vie for a semblance of artistic merit, but all of these abrasive techniques only work to distract from the lingering emptiness at the film’s center.

    For a film that tries to ruminate on PTSD, the opioid crisis, and society’s mistreatment of disenfranchised souls at the bottom of the food chain, Cherry mostly pulverizes these concepts into one poorly-balanced concoction. The narrative’s separate act structure races through Walker’s volatile Americana reflections without giving any of these subsections much substance. I can see how Cherry’s tumultuous journey could work as a fleshed-out mini-series, one where each life point could render onscreen with intricate care. As a 140 minute film, Cherry feels too scattershot and impersonal to say much of anything.

    The Russo Brothers’ frustrating missteps aren’t without some accomplished achievements. When the duo doesn’t get in their own way with overbaked busyness, some of their frames elicit a powerful reaction with their mixture of style and craft (the war sequences are fittingly frenetic and dour). I also credit Tom Holland and Ciara Bravo for grounding the material’s overly-theatrical tendencies. As a pair of pained addicts, both actors impressively strip away any vanity to convey the characters’ uneasy state of mind.

    Cherry is an overindulgent mess at its worst and a provocative swing-and-miss at its best. I admire Anthony and Joe’s decision to step away from their comfort zone, but their ambitions far exceed their craft with this outing.

    Cherry opens in theaters February 26th and Apple TV+ on March 12th.