film reviews, interviews, features | BRWC

Author: Matt Conway

  • Matt’s New Release Breakdown: February Edition

    Matt’s New Release Breakdown: February Edition

    While the theatrical market is still taking it slow amidst the COVID-19 pandemic, studios have kept content-starved audiences engaged via a myriad of streaming releases. I am encouraged to see studios keeping content moving especially during the infamous wintery doldrums of February. Given my hefty Sundance workload at the beginning of the month, I’m reviving this hilariously inconsistent blog series to cover the February releases existing around the periphery. Let’s get it rolling!

    BLISS – Directed by Mike Cahill

    Synopsis: An unfulfilled man (Owen Wilson) and a mysterious woman (Salma Hayek) believe they are living in a simulated reality, but when their newfound ‘Bliss’ world begins to bleed into the ‘ugly’ world they must decide what’s real and where they truly belong.

    The buzz surrounding Mike Cahill’s latest sci-fi experiment Bliss has not been glowing, but I’ve always had a personal affinity for the director’s ambitious marriage between concept and themes. While his latest effort doesn’t quite come together as intended, it isn’t without some notable promise.

    Utilizing an idealized, Matrix-esque reality to ruminate on the alienating effects of drug abuse and depression, Cahill certainly has his pulse on a worthwhile premise. His against-type casting of Owen Wilson helps sell the distorted reality while also displaying the actor’s rarely-recognized range. Wilson’s vulnerability adds a welcomed earnestness to his straightforward character, as he and Salma Hayek develop a natural rapport that effectively highlights the duo’s manic existence. I also give Cahill credit for taking advantage of his most luxurious budget to date on the screen. His inventive visual touches help engulf audiences into the characters’ vibrant mindsets, with Cahill consistently finding little cues to build-upon his familiar science fiction concept (the Bill Nye casting is top-notch).

    I’ve always loved Cahill’s intimate approach to the sci-fi genre, but his well-intended dramatic aspirations never quite come together. Outside of a few engaging visual techniques, Cahill’s screenplay only observes its meaningful conditions on a surface level. The dearth of insular character moments feels noticeable as the film only keeps audiences engaged through its semi-interesting narrative. I can see how the plotting could represent the alluring highs and sobering lows of addiction. That being said, the audience remains a step ahead of Cahill’s narrative as he traverses down predictable territory.

    Bliss doesn’t really work as intended, yet I still am enamored by Cahill’s inventive spirit as a filmmaker. I hope he doesn’t take another lengthy break between big-screen projects (his last film I Origins came out in 2014), as this promising misfire still reflects his unique skillset as a craftsman.

    Bliss premiered February 5th on Amazon Prime.

    TO ALL THE BOY: ALWAYS AND FOREVER – Directed by Michael Fimognari

    Synopsis: As Lara Jean Covey prepares for the end of high school and the start of adulthood, a pair of life-changing trips lead her to reimagine what life with her family, friends, and Peter will look like after graduation.

    Netflix has single-handedly revived the romantic comedy genre with their well-regarded To All the Boys franchise leading the forefront (sorry Kissing Booth). While I enjoyed the first film for its shamelessly earnest energy, its sequel I Still Love You stretched the lines of plausibility past their breaking point. The conclusion to the trilogy Always and Forever sadly falls into the sequel’s inauthentic predicament.

    Stars Lana Condor and Noah Centineo continue to make a compelling pair onscreen, but Always and Forever settles for the safest rom-com contrivances. There’s promise in the film’s exploration of the last year of high school, a period where adolescents become adults and typically move on from the world they once knew. Aside from a few intimate frames (John Corbett continues to shine as Lara Jean’s supportive father), the premise is mostly explored from a simplistic perspective.

    Cinematographer turned director Michael Fimognari pushes the narrative forward with confectionary montages and poppy song choices, yet it all reeks with a generic busyness (seriously Netflix, not every scene needs a new top 100 pop track). Netflix deserves props for reviving a long-forgotten genre, especially in embracing more diversified stories amongst its mostly whitewashed peers. That being said, Always and Forever’s schmaltzy energy likely won’t resonate outside of its target demographic.

    To All the Boys: Always and Forever premiered on Netflix on February 12th.

    FLORA AND ULYSSES – Directed by Lena Khan

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=05F8MmsiLQs&ab_channel=WaltDisneyStudios

    Synopsis: Based on the Newbery Award-winning book about 10-year-old Flora, an avid comic book fan and a self-avowed cynic, whose parents have recently separated. After rescuing a squirrel she names Ulysses, Flora is amazed to discover he possesses unique superhero powers, which take them on an adventure of humorous complications that ultimately change Flora’s life–and her outlook–forever.

    Disney continues to steadily build upon its original content library with Flora and Ulysses. Similar to some of the other early Disney+ originals (looking at you Artemis Fowl and Magic Camp), this painfully by-the-numbers detour into kid hijinks barely registers a pulse.

    I can’t fault the lovely ensemble cast for trying to carry the thin material over the finish line. It’s been a joy to watch Ben Schwartz break out in the mainstream, with the Sonic star’s quick-timing and affable energy always making him a beloved presence onscreen. His DuckTales compatriots Danny Pudi, Kate Micucci, and Bobby Moynihan add some much-needed comedic flavoring with their supporting roles, while Alyson Hannigan provides a sturdy center as Flora’s self-deprecating mom.

    Outside of a few bright sparks from the talented cast, Flora and Ulysses boasts little to endorse. I am happy to see director Lena Khan land another project after her overlooked debut The Tiger Hunter, but the talented filmmaker is mostly reduced to director-for-hire tendencies. The premise’s superhero elements are also integrated without much creativity or consistency, often relying upon infrequent visual quirks to relay some sort of energy. Brad Copeland’s generic adaptation of the celebrated book reduces the material’s strengths into a mish-mash of mawkish cliches (it’s a Disney movie, so of course the parents aren’t getting along). It won’t take clairvoyant vision for audiences to predict each tired plot development, as the bland final product mostly reeks of thankless studio mandates.

    Flora and Ulysses is entirely tolerable and not without some comedic bright spots. It’s just a shame that this Disney+ release feels more like a merchandised product than any sort of creatively-crafted creation.

    Flora and Ulysses premiered on Disney+ on February 19th.

    You can also check out some of my other February reviews, including Willy’s Wonderland, Music, and Jockey.

  • Crisis: The BRWC Review

    Crisis: The BRWC Review

    Crisis Synopsis: Three stories about the world of opioids collide: a drug trafficker arranges a multi-cartel Fentanyl smuggling operation between Canada and the U.S., an architect recovering from an OxyContin addiction tracks down the truth behind her son’s involvement with narcotics, and a university professor battles unexpected revelations about his research employer, a drug company with deep government influence bringing a new “non-addictive” painkiller to market.

    Writer/director Nicholas Jarecki broke it big with his 2012 narrative debut Arbitrage. Despite relatively muted expectations, Jarecki’s effort became a critical darling while achieving rare success on a financial level (the film had a successful theatrical/VOD simultaneous release long before that was common). Nearly nine years later, Jarecki is finally returning to the screen with his opioid ensemble piece Crisis.

    In the vein of ambitious social dramas like Disconnected and Crash, Jarecki orchestrates three distinct arcs to ruminate on the cynical beasts behind the evolving drug epidemic. This Hollywood-ized depiction boasts a few limitations, but Jarecki exhibits prowess operating in the confines of your standard-issue dramatic thriller.

    As a craftsman, Jarecki continues to operate with self-assured poise behind the camera. He presses all the right buttons to elicit tense discomfort, skillfully blending Raphael Reed’s pulsating score with Nicolas Bolduc’s thoughtful visual pallet (the usage of neon lighting in dimly-lit areas sets a fittingly grimy aesthetic). Jarecki also displays a tactful touch when it comes to heavier dramatic frames. His reserved presentation allows the actor’s emotive portrayals to take center stage without utilizing tacky gimmicks. In a climate where grounded adult thrillers rarely receive the time of day, it’s nice to see the writer/director repurposing familiar genre devices within his contemporary subject matter.

    Working as a tightly-wound ensemble piece, Crisis benefits greatly from its veteran cast. Gary Oldman is an actor’s actor for a reason, with the star imbuing his conflicted professor role with gravitas at every turn. Evangeline Lilly delivers a career-best performance as a mom recovering from a heartbreaking opioid crime. In a role that easily could’ve traversed down mawkishly theatric territory, Lilly’s authentic presence helps ground the role amidst a few puzzling developments (well get to that). A sturdy supporting cast including Greg Kinnear, Michelle Rodriguez, and Kid Cudi help prop up their fairly procedural roles.

    Jarecki’s multi-narrative structure does an adequate job highlighting the different spheres affected by opioids (from the commercial sphere to the seedy crime transactions, both magnified by Lilly’s arc amidst the aftermath of tragedy). Where Crisis limits itself stems from the basic levels of depth imbued into each arch. The three narratives flow seamlessly into one, but they can occasionally feel like they are competing for Jarecki’s interest as he attempts to create a finite thesis. It’s not like each arc is particularly revelatory (you could probably reference films that follow similar road maps), so a bit more insular nuance would’ve helped rather than Hollywood theatrics. The overworked plot dynamics become apparent during the noisy third act, which reaches an implausible and far too clean destination considering the subject matter.

    Crisis doesn’t break new ground with its timely subject matter, but credit to Jarecki for still spinning an engaging yarn for audiences to invest in. I hope we see Jarecki on the screen sooner than last time, as he’s a promising voice with a confident hold on potentially-combustible issues.

    Crisis hits theaters on February 26th with a VOD release scheduled for March 5th.

  • Land: Sundance 2021 Review

    Land: Sundance 2021 Review

    Land Synopsis: Edee (Wright), in the aftermath of an unfathomable event, finds herself unable to stay connected to the world she once knew. In the face of uncertainty, Edee retreats to the magnificent, but unforgiving, wilds of the Rockies. After a local hunter (Demián Bichir) brings her back from the brink of death, she must find a way to live again.

    Basking in the transcendental glow of the natural world, Robin Wright’s directorial debut Land isn’t afraid to embrace a gentle spirit amidst award season’s array of dramatically bold options. While its developments aren’t particularly revelatory, the film echoes its own assured depictions of loss and recovery.

    Land’s meditative quaintness benefits from Wright’s poised work behind the camera. She exhibits impressive composure for a first-time filmmaker, trusting her material’s strengths enough to avoid overly-sentimental style choices (the inclusion of tighter aspect ratios skillfully adds a sense of intimacy). Her favoring of immersive wide-frames and restrained score choices elevates the insular conflicts without adding an unnecessary flash to the scenery. The lively setting eventually evolves into a character of its own standing as the weather conditions thoughtfully mirror Edee’s mental state.

    I can see Land being too languid for some viewers, but the central performance work always kept the patient plotting engaging for me. In her exploration of Edee’s damaged persona, Wright effectively encapsulates the character’s pains without needing to wail at the audience. Her subdued performance ably carries the narrative despite having few actors to play off of.

    Land’s other significant co-star Demian Bichir makes a welcomed addition as a sage and kind-hearted hunter. Both actors share remarkably warm chemistry onscreen, transcending your typical Hollywood melodrama within the character’s easy-going comradery. It all builds to an intimately-drawn finale where the two stars showcase their emotive strengths.

    Even with its strengths, there are some limitations to Land’s delivery. Jesse Chatham and Erin Dignam collaborate on a script that is minimalistic to a fault. I don’t mind the lack of story developments, but the characters are left exploring their inner-turmoil without much to work with. It’s a film that rests all of its laurels on its cast, and while they prove up to the task, it would’ve been nice to see the script pull some more weight.

    Land’s slight delivery won’t break any new ground. Still, Robin Wright’s agreeable debut strikes enough genuine chords to whisk along patient audience members.

  • Body Brokers: Review

    Body Brokers: Review

    Body Brokers Synopsis: Utah (Jack Kilmer) and Opal (Alice Englert) are junkies living on the streets of rural Ohio until a seemingly chance encounter with the enigmatic Wood (Michael Kenneth Williams) brings them to Los Angeles for drug treatment. He soon learns though that drug treatment is but a cover for a predatory business, where addicts enlist other addicts to profit off their circular habits.

    Writer and director John Swab delves into society’s rampant drug abuse with his latest Body Brokers. Acting as a condemnation of the US’s flawed rehabilitation structures and a journey of recovery for a wayward soul, Swab bites off a sprawling narrative with his Big Short meets Requiem for a Dream leaning. I give Swab ample credit for his well-intended critiques, but they’re ultimately stuck in a scattershot narrative that rarely reaches its dramatic potential.

    In his effort to combine two contrasting perspectives (the endless profits for the exploitative brokers versus the addict’s hopeless cycle of self-destruction), Swab leaves both relatively undefined in the process. He conveys a fittingly cynical tone within Frank Grillo’s narration as a ringleader broker, but his writing isn’t sharp enough to truly condemn his subject matter.

    Aside from a few alarming statistics, Swab presents a flatly loud presentation that says little outside of obvious denouncements (his few attempts at satire are a swing and a miss comedically). The played-out fourth-wall-breaking nods only highlight the wearisome simplicity, as Body Brokers clings to a stylistic voice that lacks any real perspective.

    On a character-driven front, Body Brokers reeks of after-school special melodrama. Star Jack Kilmer delivers a capable performance as the newly-initiated Utah, although the actor has little to do with the thinly-conceived role. Utah acts more like an amalgam cipher of the drug addict experience rather than a specific character, lacking enough agency to have a presence in his own narrative.

    The other addict characters merely serve as outstretched personas devoid of any empathetic traits, while Michael Kenneth Williams’ role as a broker mentor goes nowhere despite the star’s personable talents. I wish Swab’s incorporated a few more authentic frames to match his dour perspective. A fittingly bitting finale helps punctuate the director’s intent, but it comes too little too late to register a lingering impact.

    Body Brokers boasts a few strong frames as an eye-opening examination of a problematic societal structure. It’s a shame those sobering blimps only equate to parts in a half-baked narrative, with Swab’s promising intent outstretching his film’s capabilities.

    Vertical Entertainment will release BODY BROKERS in Theaters and on Digital and On Demand on February 19, 2021.

  • Silk Road: Review

    Silk Road: Review

    Synopsis: Young, idealistic, and driven to succeed, Ross Ulbricht (Nick Robinson) creates Silk Road, the internet’s first unregulated marketplace. When the site becomes a multimillion-dollar pipeline for illicit drugs, Ulbricht draws the attention of Rick Bowden (Jason Clarke), a dangerously unpredictable DEA agent who uses any means necessary to take him down. Loosely based on a true story.

    A tale of trafficking and conspiracy set amidst the internet’s evolving landscape, Silk Road possesses the foundation of a zeitgeist deep-dive into tech’s elusive moral quandaries. Writer/director Tiller Russell may have a pertinent nucleus on his hands, but his semi-engaging effort mostly snags on familiar rise-and-fall devices.

    Similar to its bluntly-formed title, Silk Road settles for a relatively brainless yarn despite its thematic potential. There’s a myriad of ruminations Russell’s story could touch on, whether that be the ethical concerns within our regulated internet or the innate danger of Ross’ free-market website. Russell decides to blend these conceits into one relatively shallow concoction, dancing through ideals with on-the-nose news segments and sanctimonious speeches (the inclusion of narration spells out Ross’ motivations with a lack of tactfulness).

    It’s disheartening to see a singular and complex story reduced to middling cat-and-mouse fare. The mirrored narratives are connected through the characters’ obsessive pursuit of their goals, yet Russell completely forgets about establishing motivations in the process. Rick serves as a generic hard-nosed cop, while Ross bores as an empty dreamer unbeknownst to his action’s grander ramifications. Both figures are more reminiscent of thinly-established stereotypes than actually evolving people.

    The inherent shallowness isn’t helped much by Russell’s tame visceral voice, lacking the kind of tense vibrancy to compensate for the material’s weaknesses. He does a competent-enough job pushing the pace forward while evenly balancing his dual storylines. That mere competency doesn’t overshadow the fairly dull visual techniques. Outside of a few techno-score drops and some bizarrely implemented editing choices (the constant freeze-frame transitions add little of note), there’s little to differentiate this effort from your typical cyber-thriller.

    Silk Road would be a sinking ship without its anchoring cast. Jason Clarke continues his run as one of the industry’s more unappreciated character actors, sinking his teeth into Rick’s gruff persona with conviction and a few slyly humorous beats (Rick’s slow acclimation to the internet leads to some colorful moments of frustration). Nick Robinson also bolsters Ross’ thin arch with twitchy energy and a few understated emotional beats.

    Silk Road is the movie equivalent of a Wikipedia entry. Its fast-paced narrative will feed you some basic information, but the lack of substantive shading will leave most viewers wanting more.

    Silk Road is on digital platforms 22 March from Vertigo Releasing