film reviews, interviews, features | BRWC

Author: Matt Conway

  • The Son: The BRWC Review

    The Son: The BRWC Review

    The Son Synopsis: Peter (Hugh Jackman), a successful lawyer with a new wife (Vanessa Kirby) and infant, agrees to care for his teenage son Nicholas (Zen McGrath) from a previous marriage after his ex-wife (Laura Dern) becomes concerned about the boy’s wayward behavior.

    A successful businessman with surging career and family prospects comes face-to-face with the mental hardships facing his son Nicholas from a prior marriage in The Son.

    For readers disconnected from the film festival circuit, The Son entered the 2022 award season as one of the year’s most promising projects. Writer/director Florian Zeller earned rave reviews and several awards for his 2020 directorial debut, The Father. The film successfully adapted one of Zeller’s celebrated stageplays with technical aplomb, showcasing an affecting depiction of an older man gradually succumbing to dementia. 

    The Son finds Zeller trying to rekindle the magic of The Father with another cinematic iteration based on his stage work (The Father, The Son, and The Mother are a trio of interconnected pieces that loosely exist within the same universe). This time, Zeller concocts a transfixing trainwreck that swings and misses severely on unpacking nuanced human dilemmas. 

    How can two similar works showcase such a varied spectrum of results? Where The Father displayed tact and finite focus in its challenging pursuits, The Son never seems to have a pulse on what it vies to achieve. 

    The potential is certainly there on paper. The Son fearlessly pursues timely ruminations on the lingering baggage of generational sins, the often impenetrable wall of understanding between parent and child, and society’s overarching misunderstanding of complex mental conditions.

    There are fragments where the ideas showcase a flicker of promise, but they are mostly suffocated under Zeller’s simplistic and overbearing approach to his subject matter.

    Zeller’s work behind the camera is particularly self-indulgent. While The Father occasionally elevated its stagey roots through intelligent filmmaking choices, The Son dials up its stylistic imprint to an obnoxious degree. Meandering tracking shots and the inclusion of Hanz Zimmer’s bombastic score morph seemingly subdued moments into a soap opera drenched in maudlin sentiments. The showiness of Zeller’s techniques prevents most moments from striking a genuine chord. 

    Surprisingly enough, The Son’s most glaring weakness lies in its misguided screenplay. For all the concepts Zeller bats around, the acclaimed playwright rarely understands the intimate dynamics on display. 

    The film’s ill-advised treatment of mental illness becomes especially appalling. Despite being the titular character, Nicholas and his ongoing mental health struggles rarely receive much time to breathe onscreen. Nicholas is instead treated as a hapless victim of an unexplainable phenomenon – a choice that exchanges meaningful insight into mental illness for tasteless theatrics utilized to extract unearned emotional reactions from viewers. It becomes incredibly disheartening to watch real-world plights turn into cheap gimmicks, including a final act that sinks down The Room-level territory in its reckless attempt to extract an empathetic punch. I’ve seen many blame young actor Zen McGrath for the character’s failures onscreen, although it seems clear to me that Nicholas is failed most by Zeller’s lack of wisdom. 

    The Son isn’t an outright disaster. Star Hugh Jackman bears his soul as a distraught father discovering inadequacies within the picturesque life he built, while Laura Dern and Vanessa Kirby imbue dramatic gravity into their roles as Peter’s ex and current wife. Unfortunately, none of the performers’ spirited efforts can overcome a deeply-insincere film. 

    I can’t speak for what Zeller achieved on the stage with his illustrious play, but The Son completely disconnects with its combustible big-screen adaptation. I still remain interested to see where the playwright goes from here after experiencing a roller coaster of success and failure with his first two cinematic offerings. 

    The Son opens in theaters nationwide on January 20th. 

  • House Party: The BRWC Review

    House Party: The BRWC Review

    When two down-and-out household cleaners, Damon and Kevin, discover they are in the mansion of NBA superstar LeBron James, they decide to throw an epic rager with an all-star guest list in House Party. 

    As a remake of the 1990 cult classic, House Party steps in the shoes of a generational comedy defined by the vibrant zeitgeist of early 1990s hip-hop culture. I know critics are usually first to lament the existence of yet another remake, but House Party always seemed well-suited for a modern reinterpretation. The classic lineage of old-school party films represents hollowed comedic grounds throughout different filmmaking eras. Given Hollywood’s current shortage of comedic releases, House Party represents a refreshing oddity in its pursuit of imprinting its humorous stamp on a time-honored trend. 

    The 2023 House Party features a who’s who of comedic stars and marquee celebrities in a raucous, wild night in the house of “King James” himself. While this remake may never escape the lasting shadow of its stalwart predecessor, it endearingly succeeds at cultivating a funny farce for a new generation. 

    It helps that House Party dawns complete self-awareness in its throwback pursuits. Music video director Calmatic teams with Atlanta screenwriters Jamal Olori and Stephen Glover to create an easy-going hangout comedy bolstered by endless gags and an affectionate embrace of lionized comedic tenants. The film never dilutes itself into having grander pretenses, focusing almost exclusively on conjuring an infectious partygoing experience. 

    Some are already labeling this new House Party a party folly for not mirroring its beloved predecessor. Personally, I am glad the creative team embeds their approach through a modern lens. Olori and Glover collaborate on a sharp screenplay that effectively dispenses clever pop culture references and zany slapstick situations. Even when bits miss the mark, there is always another bitting joke or comedic pratfall waiting around the corner to inject some much-needed amusement. I also praise the screenwriting team for making good use of celebrity cameos, including a supporting appearance from Kid Cudi in a playful twist on his rockstar image. 

    The new comedic ensemble for House Party also leaves a positive impression. It’s impossible to match the dynamism of the original stars, Kid’n Play members Christopher Reid and Robin Harris, but new leads Tosin Cole and Jacob Latimore provide a satisfying remix. As Damon and Kevin, the duo form a lived-in comedic team as bickering friends trying to throw a memorable party. In addition, Wild’n Out fixture D.C. Young Fly is a hilarious, laugh-a-minute scene-stealer as a DJ with unorthodox music taste. 

    Make no mistake, even for its successes; House Party is a fry cry away from the heights of its predecessor. This remake is limited most by its inherent influence from the studio factory pipeline. While the 1990 film boasted exuberance and undeniable presence from its finite perspective, the 2023 remake arrives as a sanitized studio comedy package formed from the boilerplate remake formula. The film does not achieve anything particularly noteworthy because it’s ultimately satisfied living in the shadow of what the original achieved. Director Calmatic’s efforts are limited most by this approach. The Old Town Road director is constricted to guiding a sitcom-esque vision that’s lacking in visceral verve. 

    Like most good parties, House Party leaves behind somewhat hazy memories, but most viewers should at least recall having a good time at the cineplex with this spirited remake. 

    House Party is now playing in theaters. 

  • The Devil Conspiracy: The BRWC Review

    The Devil Conspiracy: The BRWC Review

    The Devil Conspiracy Synopsis: The hottest biotech company in the world has discovered they can clone history’s most influential people from the dead. Now, they are auctioning clones of Michelangelo, Galileo, Vivaldi, and others for tens of millions of dollars to the world’s ultra-rich. But when they steal the Shroud of Turin and clone the DNA of Jesus Christ, all hell breaks loose.

    A sinister tech company’s cloning practices unintentionally unearth a generational war between Archangel Michael and Lucifer in The Devil Conspiracy. 

    Featuring one of the year’s most inventive concepts, The Devil Conspiracy boasts an infectious endearing streak in its fearless ambition despite low-budget circumstances. Director Nathan Frankowski’s feature takes me back to the early 2010s – an era where fantastical twists on religious lore took center stage with genre films like Legion, Priest, and Season of the Witch.

    With The Devil Conspiracy, Frankowski and screenwriter Ed Alan concocts their own action-driven deviation on the time-honored battle between good and evil. Unfortunately, the results showcase a bargain-bin epic that gets lost amidst its noble intentions.

    Some elements of The Devil Conspiracy inspire genuine goodwill. Frankowski and Alan take tremendous glee in the grandiose home run swing the duo takes at the plate here, establishing a high-concept world that takes umbrage in its pie-in-the-sky vision. The film boasts a campy, self-aware sensibility that helps morph its limited budget and ambitious concepts into fruitful attributes. On a technical level, Frankowski deserves praise for maximizing the assets he has at his disposal. Every makeshift set design and ingenious use of practical effects showcase a filmmaker who exhibited tremendous creativity throughout the production.

    At the same time, The Devil Conspiracy eventually stumbles from its muddled vision. Alan’s screenplay features a few fascinating developments from its depiction of evil spiritual entities manifested back to life from cultists and corporate greed. One could piece together how the inventive premise could provide searing indictments on our zeitgeist’s deteriorating values, but Alan imbues little thematic vision in his work. As creative as the film’s nucleus is, the narrative ultimately comes across as a discombobulated series of ideas that struggle to come together. 

    The Devil Conspiracy is hurt most by its distinct lack of personality. Neither the lifeless characters nor rigid dialogue exchanges personify much life into what feels like a hollow shell of a screenplay. While Frankowski tries to elevate the material with glimmers of crowdpleasing entertainment, the film’s amusements are inevitably constricted by a story that plods along without extracting genuine interest from viewers. 

    The Devil Conspiracy boasts sincerity in its spirited pursuits, yet the intriguing puzzle pieces struggle to congeal in an inconsistent genre romp. 

    The Devil Conspiracy opens in theaters nationwide on January 13.  

  • Funny Pages: The BRWC Review

    Funny Pages: The BRWC Review

    Funny Pages Synopsis: Teenage cartoonist Robert (Daniel Zolghardi) rejects the comforts of his suburban life and leaves home, finding an unwilling teacher and unwitting friend in Wallace, a former low-level comic artist.

    Following the death of his mentor, know-it-all teenage cartoon artist Robert embarks on a quest toward adulthood in Funny Pages. The trials and tribulations embedded within coming-of-age narratives often inspire a sense of nostalgic reverence from viewers. At its best, the genre showcases the timeless adolescent hurdles standing in the way of self-actualization through a balance of warmth and genuine sentiments. 

    In the hands of first-time writer/director Owen Kline, Funny Pages traverses down a decidedly more perverse path. Kline and his creative company cultivate a compelling and refreshingly amoral odyssey of a self-assured teenager coming face-to-face with the uncompromising world around him. 

    Funny Pages establishes a distinctive voice from jump street. Our protagonist Robert introduces himself as a harsh amalgamation of teenagers’ worst qualities, constantly berating family and friends under the guise of his self-absorbed sense of importance. His one true passion in life lies in his comic book creations, although his artistic endeavors align closer to indecent snuff content compared to more soulful material. 

    As Robert ditches school and moves into a musky apartment seated in a slum underbelly, Funny Pages transforms into a decidedly vulgar experience. Robert thinks he knows everything there is to know about the world around him as he discovers a new mentor in the form of a comic artist with a questionable past. In reality, his expedition toward independence elicits an eye-opening discovery. 

    Similar to the work of his producing partners (Uncut Gems directors Ben and Josh Saffide), Kline entrenches Robert’s journey within the undernourished crevices of a world riddled with seediness. Whether it’s the sweat-induced hell of his cramped apartment space or the run-down comic store that Robert frequently visits, Kline’s guerilla realism filmmaking style conveys an atmospheric unease. Each scene has a rugged unwieldiness as kinetic camera movements and claustrophobic framing choices enhance the material’s grunge sensibility. Kline and his assured technical craft deserve significant praise for making a makeshift low-budget a beneficial asset to the film. 

    Tonally, Funny Pages is a fascinating feature to unpack. The material is unabashedly dour in its worldview, but its executed in a manner that can feel surprisingly humorous in its unhinged depravity. A series of juvenile pratfalls, including the shocking spectacle that is the film’s final act, often left me floored one minute before letting out a nervous chuckle the next. 

    Kline captures both tones with a raw spontaneity that always feels grounded in genuine insights. At the heart of Funny Pages’ occasionally off-the-wall moments, the filmmaker slices piercing sentiments about a conceited yet naive dreamer who uncovers painful truths about his underdeveloped worldview. 

    None of Kline’s intriguing elements would work without star Daniel Zolghardi. The young actor often becomes a distasteful menace as Robert, sniping biting one-liners at all who oppose him while wearing endless misery across his face. Yet, in a character that could’ve easily felt like a phony caricature in the wrong hands, Zolghardi’s nuanced delivery provides essential balance. He imbues empathy into his performance by understanding what lies beneath the facade of Robert’s attitude – a wide-eyed teenager desperately searching for a sense of self-discovery.

    Funny Pages strikes a fearlessly abrasive subversion of the coming-of-age formula. While wholly untraditional, the film approaches adolescent milieu with an unfiltered honesty that few coming-of-age features can match. 

    Funny Pages is available on VOD platforms. 

  • The Pale Blue Eye: The BRWC Review

    The Pale Blue Eye: The BRWC Review

    The Pale Blue Eye Synopsis: Veteran detective Augustus Landor (Christian Bales) investigates a series of grisly murders with the help of a young cadet who will eventually become the world-famous author Edgar Allan Poe (Harry Melling). Based on a 2003 novel by author Louis Bayard.

    Grief-ridden detective Augustus Landor is hired to investigate a string of deaths discovered within Westpoint Military Academy. While piecing together the puzzle, Augustus collaborates with Edgar Allan Poe during his youthful days as a military cadet in the murder mystery, The Pale Blue Eye.

    Poe’s influences as a literary savant embedded in the haunting allures of the macabre are well-recognized. Along with several cinematic adaptations of his work, Poe remains a significant influence on many visionaries who continue to shape the horror genre. 

    A fictional reimagining of Poe’s youth through the prism of a deadly crusade for enigmatic truths seems like a worthwhile undertaking for writer/director Scott Cooper. Unfortunately, Cooper’s adaptation of an acclaimed novel descends into a dull and oppressively self-serious exercise in whodunit contrivances.  

    I’ve admittedly always been a fan of Cooper’s distinctive imprint behind the camera. Crazy Heart and Out of the Furnace operate as gritty and piercingly authentic character studies, while 2021’s overlooked horror feature Antlers saw Cooper merge his dreary worldview within the confines of horror’s visceral nightmares. 

    In some ways, The Pale Blue Eye is a fitting extension of his sensibilities. Cooper and Cinematographer Masanobu Takayanagi evoke a compelling sense of atmosphere through their gothic visual profile. Every rustic exterior is dressed in thick clouds of ominous haze as Landor and Poe traverse through the mucky muck of a snowy landscape. The interiors are equally expressive, with the dim flickers of candlelight and luring shadows defining an unnerving sense of place. 

    The Pale Blue Eyes may look the part of a taut mystery, but its narrative drastically underachieves in its pursuits. Cooper intends for his film to amplify meaningful sentiments through our protagonist’s conjoined existence as prisoners of grief and despair. Yet, in execution, Cooper struggles to imbue necessary nuance. Everything about the characters and their struggles feels incredibly surface-level – so much so that even intense performance work from a brooding Christian Bale and a dedicated Harry Melling can extract purpose from the film’s central subjects. I can see where Cooper tries to capture the aching soul and pained emotions spotlighted in Poe’s literary work with Blue Eye; It just doesn’t come together onscreen. 

    The central mystery at the heart of The Pale Blue Eye is equally underwhelming. What may have worked as an exhilarating narrative yarn on paper is lost in translation by Cooper’s screenplay. Every uncovered clue and last-second revelation can be telegraphed from a mile away, and while a third-act reveal does add some intriguing thematic connotations, it ultimately lands as a desperate attempt to inject some excitement into flatlining material. Without an engaging narrative hook, the film tepidly meanders throughout its 130-minute runtime until its tedious puzzle pieces sloppily come together. 

    The Pale Blue Eye is competent and aesthetically pleasing, yet neither element imbues interest in a lifeless murder mystery. Nevertheless, I am still a huge fan of Cooper’s perspective behind the camera and look forward to seeing what he conjures next. 

    The Pale Blue Eye is now playing on Netflix.