film reviews, interviews, features | BRWC

Author: Matt Conway

  • Music: The BRWC Review

    Music: The BRWC Review

    Synopsis: Zu is newly sober when she receives news that she is to become the sole guardian of her half-sister named Music, a young girl on the autism spectrum. Zu begins her process of recovery as she bonds with Music’s vibrant personality.

    Some movies can never escape the notorious narratives surrounding their release. While some may push for critics to view a film outside those connotations, I can not ignore the blatant ignorance behind Sia’s writing and directorial debut Music. The talented musician makes numerous poor decisions in her distasteful representations of the Autism community.

    Whiplashing audiences to the days of inauthentic awards-bait efforts like I Am Sam (a period that was hilariously mocked in Tropic Thunder), Sia’s melodramatic misfire lacks any understanding of its subject matter. Her writing collaboration with Dallas Clayton rests solely on mawkishly weepy contrivances to sell its inclusive messages. Any semblance of reality the two try to establish is lost amidst a wave of overworked quirks and bombastic diatribes. With every dramatic element dialed up to obvious degrees (the “character likes music so name her Music” type logic), there’s nothing really for audiences to attach to.

    Then there’s Sia’s inclusion of vivid music numbers to relay Music’s deeply-felt emotions. These colorful frames have some alluring pop to them, but they rarely serve their intended purpose for the story. The formulaic lyrics and sunny visuals don’t exhibit much thought outside of adding a noisy stylistic inclusion to the table. Sia’s over-exposed lighting and busy edits vie for an upbeat tempo that lands closer to saccharine overkill. It’s frustrating to watch a film desperate to elicit emotions yet completely disconnected from its desired reactions.

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e0IVWsxOGOI&ab_channel=MovieCoverage

    Between the snubbing of Autistic actors and Sia’s social media tirade against her numerous detectors, it’s clear Sia did not possess the proper understanding to tell her well-meanging story. I don’t want to speak with superiority or act like the singer approached her material with malicious intent. However, the lack of authetnicity is appraent at every turn. Maddie Ziegler’s overacted performance feels completely disconnected from reality, while Kate Hudson and Leslie Odom Jr. are stuck in thanklessly steryotypical roles.

    I feel like we’ve grown past these types of vapid white-knighting efforts, but Music sadly transports us back to that dated era with troubling results. The Autism community deserves much better representation than this, and I hope future filmmakers learn from Sia’s mistakes.

  • Saint Maud: The BRWC Review

    Saint Maud: The BRWC Review

    Saint Maud Synopsis: Maud (Morfydd Clark) is a reclusive young nurse whose impressionable demeanor causes her to pursue a pious path of Christian devotion after an obscure trauma. Now charged with the hospice care of Amanda (Jennifer Ehle), a retired dancer ravaged by cancer, Maud’s fervent faith quickly inspires an obsessive conviction to save her ward’s soul from eternal damnation, whatever the cost.

    Nearly a year and a half removed from its uproarious Toronto International Film Festival debut (the film endured several COVID-related delays), A24’s holy horror vehicle Saint Maud is finally seeing the light of day. While its unceremonious Epix release is somewhat of a bummer, writer/director Rose Glass crafts an impressive debut with her moody meditations on religion’s comforting allures.

    Atmospheric horror relies upon a connection between themes and technique, with the numerous misfires showcasing the inherent difficulty behind this finite balance. Saint Maud expertly escapes the genre’s occasionally overwhelming vapidness. From jump street, Glass viscerally places the audience in Maud’s insular footsteps, eerily blending our reality with Maud’s distorted view of the world around her. Her usage of dim lighting and intoxicating score choices generate a dreary mood for audiences to get lost in.

    Where some filmmakers would push this division with cheap tricks, Glass’ empathetic eye allows audiences to delve beneath the surface of Maud’s obsessive tendencies. The horrors here generate from religion’s role as an emotional safeguard, as Maud’s supportive life-preserver eventually overtakes her life while repressed traumas spiral past their inevitable breaking point. Saint Maud works more than most horror vehicles because it doesn’t try to incite entertainment out of its dour circumstances. Glass creates a constant unease from Maud’s degradation without exploiting the character’s overwhelming pains in the process.

    While some movies boast an accomplished cast, Saint Maud excels with a group that feels irreplaceable in their given roles. Morfydd Clark delivers a remarkable breakout turn as Maud, developing layers of emotion and complexion under the character’s mousy presence. It’s the quieter frames that showcase Clark’s ability the best, breaking down Maud’s rigid exterior to discover a desire to grow and connect. The supremely-underrated Jennifer Ehle makes a fitting sparring partner as an oft-kilter care patient, with the character’s free-spirited attitude clashing against Maud’s oppressive beliefs.

    I was enamored throughout Saint Maud’s tight-knit 84-minute runtime, but Glass’ speedy experience does trade some of its depth in favor of genre trappings. For a narrative screenwriting debut, Glass admirably observes trauma and the ways we mask those pains through other vices. I just felt like there could have been more time to breathe within Maud’s turmoil, as a fairly rushed third act pushes the climax to a satisfying, yet semi-unfinished place. Glass’ ruminations on religion also aren’t singular enough to differentiate this story from other horror movies about obsessive protagonists.

    A few familiar debut falterings never take away from Saint Maud’s alluring strengths. Writer/director Rose Glass exhibits herself as a promising voice due to her well-calibrated balance between style and substance.

  • The Mauritanian: The BRWC Review

    The Mauritanian: The BRWC Review

    The Mauritanian Synopsis: A defense attorney (Jodie Foster), her associate (Shailene Woodley) and a military prosecutor (Benedict Cumberbatch) uncover a far-reaching conspiracy while investigating the case of Mohamdedou Ould Salahi (Tahar Rahim), a suspected 9/11 terrorist imprisoned at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, for six years.

    Unearthing a potent true story comes with its own set of responsibilities for filmmakers. Whether they are dedicated to a living subject or a revealing slice of history, directors must balance their craftsmanship objectives with the weighty truths existing under their story’s surfaces. As a narrative filmmaker and documentarian (Whitney and The Last King of Scotland), director Kevin Macdonald is no newcomer to these inherent challenges.

    Macdonald’s latest effort, The Mauritanian, offers a sturdy and empathetically-drawn portrait of a man trying to overcome the US’s broken politicking. Even despite some workman-like trappings, Mohamdedou Salahi’s timely story leaves a potent impact.

    Based on Salahi’s memoir Guantanamo Diary, Macdonald constructs a capable ensemble piece around his resonant true story. His no-nonsense delivery favors hard-hitting journalism over Hollywood melodrama, skimping past mechanical screenwriting contrivances to tap into the pertinent issues at hand. Macdonald also boasts a keen ability to keep information flowing in an engaging light. The three arch structure moves at a steady pace while never discombobulating the bevy of factual developments in the process. As each discovery builds upon the last, Macdonald develops a taunt momentum that thankfully never drifts into exploitative territory.

    The Mauritanian evokes its most eviscerating frames through its intimate look inside Mohamdedou’s tumultuous journey. Employing a tightened aspect ratio and a myriad of kinetic edits, Macdonald skillfully conveys the character’s perspective as he endures a series of dehumanizing exercises in captivity. These challenging sequences could easily fall flat in less capable hands, but star Tahar Rahim never strikes a false moment as Mohamdedou. Rahim’s effortless ability to elicit expressive emotions allows the character’s torment to take center stage without showy speeches.

    Mohamdedou makes for roughly a third of The Mauritanian’s runtime. While these frames are expertly crafted, the dissident structure left me wanting more from the film’s relatively timid delivery. Screenwriters Michael Bronner, Rory Haines, and Sohrab Noshirvani mostly settle on surface-level ruminations amidst the split narratives, with the competing lawyers serving as ciphers for a few sanctimonious dialogue deliveries (its potent thematic messages are clumsily spelled-out for audiences). I credit Jodie Foster and Benedict Cumberbatch for elevating their thinly-drawn roles (Foster’s vulnerable connection to Mohamadedou registers a few impactful frames), but the characters operate as obvious amalgamations of their respective beliefs. It’s clearly a film made with sensitivity and respect for its subjects, although the inherent earnestness leaves some untapped dramatic potential.

    The Mauritanian admirably critiques the United State’s post-911 frenzy, an era where the government senselessly searched for cathartic revenge at the cost of all civility and legality. While there’s some distracting heavy-handedness, Macdonald’s steady touch highlights this problematic era with frightening relevance.

  • Willy’s Wonderland: The BRWC Review

    Willy’s Wonderland: The BRWC Review

    Synopsis: When his car breaks down, a quiet loner (Nicolas Cage) agrees to clean an abandoned family fun center in exchange for repairs. He soon finds himself waging war against possessed animatronic mascots while trapped inside Willy’s Wonderland.

    After being left aside as a VOD leading man, Nicolas Cage intelligently reinvented his persona to become a genre film stalwart. His one-in-a-kind presence serves as a playful tool for crafty directors to enhance their uniquely-fitted visions. Whether it’s the Lovecraftian horrors of Richard Stanley’s Color Out of Space or the B-movie appeals of the sci-fi/kung-fu hybrid Jiu Jitsu, Cage’s unique wavelength continues to tune into his director’s varied frequencies.

    The star’s latest low-rent vehicle, Willy’s Wonderland, loosely riffs on Five Night at Freddy’s macabre distortion of childhood iconography. It’s a great set-up, one that sets up plentiful opportunities for slasher bloodshed and gleeful genre moments. Sadly, all that promise morphs into a competent yet creatively marred vision from director Kevin Lewis.

    That’s not to say Lewis’s effort lacks some guilty pleasure allures. His dimly-lit aesthetics are a capable match for the film’s plethora of murderous, flesh-eating mascots. There’s an inherently twisted glee in seeing these Chuck E. Cheese-esque creations recklessly throw out vulgarities in their unending pursuit of immoral crimes. When the director is able to tap into the premise’s over-the-top mania, he unleashes a flurry of intimately shaky frames painted with colorful buckets of bloodshed. Lewis and screenwriter G.O. Parsons admirably never take their offering too seriously, implementing a few humorously bizarre frames along the way (Cage’s nonverbal protagonist often takes breaks to practice his pinball wizardry).

    While Willy’s Wonderland presents some self-awareness, the script does little of note with its high-concept premise. Parsons implements some flat world-building devices that rarely imbue much in terms of dimension. His script occasionally ruminates on the darkness lurking beneath some sinister, family-friend figures, but a lack of satire or substance adds little perspective on the dynamic. Parsons also seems to confuse cheeky homages as utilizing tired plot contrivances, settling on the bare minimum of characterization to pull the listless narrative forward.

    Considering the wildly unkempt premise at hand, Willy’s Wonderland is a little too stiff for its own good. Lewis’s direction works capably enough on a visual level, yet his passe hold on the narrative lacks a sense of tension. The movie just kind of wanders by without balancing the horror and comedic tonalities in the process. It’s also a bummer to see Cage’s firey charms reduced into a silent action hero. I was left sorely missing the kind of guilty pleasure moments only he can manifest.

    Nic Cage fighting demonic animatronics sounds like a blast on paper, but Willy’s Wonderland mostly settles for the bare minimum with its inventive premise.

  • Palmer: The BRWC Review

    Palmer: The BRWC Review

    Synopsis: After 12 years in prison, former high school football star Eddie Palmer (Justin Timberlake) returns home to put his life back together and forms an unlikely bond with Sam (Ryder Allen), an outcast boy from a troubled home. But Eddie’s past threatens to ruin his new life and family.

    Amidst a myriad of competing streamers, AppleTV+ continues to establish a strong foundation for the years ahead. Their wise valuing of star-studded quality over quantity generated several successful TV shows (Ted Lasso) and films (On the Rocks) over their sturdy inaugural year. The latest in their original content library Palmer desperately reaches for heart-tugging drama within its Middle American premise. Director Fisher Stevens crafts a passable-enough melodrama, but his relatively saccharine effort barely registers an impression.

    Instead of striking an authentic chord, Palmer mostly settles for Hollywood posturing. There are avenues for Cheryl Guerriero’s script to explore universally American sentiments, including ex-convicts’ struggles for redemption and the misunderstanding of gender fluidity in backward communities. These worthwhile conflicts are implemented with surface-level truths, leaving a more intimate story in the dusk for crowd-pleasing bait (Sam’s identity serves as a plot device more than a meaningfully explored character dynamic).

    It doesn’t help that Stevens’ director-for-hire hand doesn’t realize the film’s quaint strengths. For a personal drama, there’s rarely time to stew with the character’s internal developments. Almost every scene drowns itself in obvious music choices, overbaking potentially-sentimental moments into maudlin mishaps. Combined with the relatively heavy-handed dramatic mechanics (Juno Temple’s talents are wasted playing a caricature of a junkie), Palmer’s tireless attempts to elicit emotion grow tiresome as the inauthentic frames add up.

    It’s a frustrating misfire considering the film’s promising nucleus. Justin Timberlake and Ryder Allen are an affectionate pair as two disenfranchised souls seeking solace in each other’s company. For Timberlake, his ability to balance expressive emotions with radiating charisma morphs Palmer into an earnest everyman-type. Allen also deserves praise in his film debut, as the young actor skillfully portrays Sam’s enduring glow amidst troubling circumstances. The duo’s well-tuned frequency will leave most wishing they were serviced with a better movie.

    Palmer is affable-enough to draw some fans, but its largely inauthentic delivery rang with a lingering hollowness for me.