film reviews, interviews, features | BRWC

Author: Matt Conway

  • Freaky: The BRWC Review

    Freaky: The BRWC Review

    Career second acts are a rarity in Hollywood, with studios seldomly allowing marquee actors the opportunity to explore outside their comfort zone (Matthew McConaughey and Adam Sandler are a few recent examples). That fact hasn’t stopped former comedic heavyweight Vince Vaughn from discovering a new career path. Whether he’s a bruiting action star (Brawl in Cell Block 99) or an insular drug-dealer (Arkansas), Vaughn has comfortably discovered new manors to express his assured acting chops. Now teaming with Happy Death Day writer/director Christopher Landon in Freaky, Vaughn finds himself channeling a teenage girl in an uproarious horror-comedy crowd-pleaser.

    Freaky follows Millie (Kathryn Newton), an introverted teen stuck in a malaise after her father’s death. If high school life couldn’t be complicated enough, the Blissfield Butcher (Vince Vaughn) begins to re-surface, attacking Millie during a dark night. What should have been a clear-cut kill becomes far stranger when the Butcher and Millie switch bodies, with Millie inhabiting the consciousness of the large serial killer. Millie now must reverse the switch before nightfall, or less she will be stuck in the Butcher’s body forever.

    As someone who couldn’t jive with Landon’s previous efforts (The Happy Death Day films were spirited but couldn’t overcome their wonky tonality), I am delighted to see the writer/director follow through with his conceptual ingenuity. Now working in the confines of an R-rating, Landon leans into the gleefully gory machinations of the slasher genre, dreaming up a bevy of creative kills that leave viewers in a state of shock and awe. His usage of practical effects and unsettling score cues further sell each death, with Landon also understanding the shameless appeal of killing off inherently unlikable characters (a certain scene with a saw is gloriously over-the-top). He playfully harkens to the genre’s adored staples (the opening is a clever ode to Scream) while also paving his own pathway through the film’s distinct horror-comedy blend.

    The oft-kilter premise generates a perfect canvas for its well-suited cast. Kathryn Newton offers one of her best performances to date, portraying Millie’s insecurities with emotional authenticity. Her role could’ve easily felt like an archetype cliche, but it’s Newton’s ability that imbues the character’s persona with dimension that truly elevates it. Let’s be honest though, this is Vince Vaughn’s film and he steals every frame of it. Vaughn’s signature fast-talking delivery is tailor-made for the energized personality of a teenage girl, selling the role reversal without dipping into the cartoon-y territory. I credit him for not approaching this role with a mawkish attitude, with his performance excelling due to the genuine sincerity behind it.

    Landon’s effort also improves on the superficial emotionality of his previous films. Where Happy Death Day rang hollow with a greeting card message, Landon utilizes his high-concept premise to slyly observe our innate difficulty to express ourselves in our own skin. I don’t want to oversell its impact (some of Landon’s dialogue still feels overly-speechified), but the writer/director deserves credit for ensuring a level of attachment with his material.

    Blending its genre elements to create a satisfying horror/comedy concoction, Christopher Landon’s Freaky registers as an inspired iteration of the slasher genre.

    Freaky is now playing in theaters, with a VOD release scheduled for early 2021.

  • Blackjack – The Jackie Ryan Story: Review

    Blackjack – The Jackie Ryan Story: Review

    As an avid NBA fan, it’s my film critic mandate to engulf any basketball film that hits release… and I mean any (seriously, how many other Netflix users watched Amature back in 2018?). This mantra has driven me towards a few slam dunk-worthy films (Love and Basketball and Uncut Gems), along with a few woeful air-ball stinkers (Rebound and Thunderstruck). The latest addition to the subgenre Blackjack: The Jackie Ryan Story takes a refreshingly low-key approach to the high-flying sport. Despite an underdog earnestness, Danny Abeckaser’s film never escapes the grasp of simplistic narrative-handholding.

    Blackjack follows the story of hot-tempered Brooklyn native and streetball legend Jackie Ryan (Greg Finley). Stuck in a personal crossroads, Jackie listlessly spends his days partying with his pal Marty (James Madio) while vying over his former crush Jenny (Ashley Greene). When Jackie is called for a tryout with the Brooklyn Nets, he tirelessly builds towards personal and professional redemption.

    As a craftsman, Abeckaser’s full-hearted adoration towards his subject-matter radiates throughout. He and screenwriter Antonio Macia define their film through its rustic Brooklyn setting, employing gritty framing and wisecracking barbs that crackle with a naturalistic light (every character is a cartoon-y ball-buster, which feels surprisingly tailor-made for the hard-nosed setting). This potent sense of place imbues the sports movie formula with much-needed personality onscreen, as the duo allows their personal stomping ground to breathe with raw authenticity.

    Blackjack is also aided by its assured cast. Greg Finley brings Jackie Ryan to life with swaggering bravado, tapping into the streetballers cocky attitude while empathetically examining Ryan’s inner-demons. James Madio has a blast playing into Marty’s smart-guy persona, while Ashley Greene makes for a personable presence as a former basketball standout. Perhaps the standout of the bunch is David Arquette, who elevates Jackie’s tough, but fair father into a fairly complex role despite limited screentime.

    There are charming elements on display throughout, but they can’t compensate for Blackjack’s notable limitations. Abeckaser’s visceral sensibility leaves something to be desired, combing poorly-lit settings and sloppy edits to leave an unfinished feeling. When it comes to the tightly-contested basketball games, Abeckaser does an able job displaying the free-flowing movements with a steady hand. However, the lack of intensity hurts these scenes severely, as viewers are met with actors haphazardly speed-walking through their iconic skill moves. For a movie about a streetball legend, audiences rarely get to bask in the star’s awe-inspiring talents.

    Blackjack also finds itself in a stark identity crisis. Macia’s script never decides if it wants to be an uplifting sports film or a personal drama, undercutting both identities in a clumsy attempt to make the two co-exist. This rise-and-fall story is screaming for raw intimacy, but the dramatic elements are handled with a skin-deep complexion. Even as Jackie descends towards a drunken stupor, his personal struggles are treated with a level of sanitation that mitigates the impact of his heroic comeback.

    Blackjack: The Jackie Ryan Story serviceably tells its underdog story but can’t quite deliver on the film’s full picture of promise. Either way, I relish the chance to watch any new basketball film, and I am sure diehard NBA fans will get a level of enjoyment out of this.

  • Cut Throat City: Review

    Cut Throat City: Review

    While he will always be known for his music career, RZA has established himself as an inspired voice in the film industry. Along with scoring memorable character actor parts (Funny People and American Gangster), the Wu-Tang Clan legend has established a visceral voice behind the director’s chair.

    RZA’s debut (the hokey, but enjoyable Man with the Iron Fist) playfully conjures Wu-Tang’s kung-fu sensibility, while his follow-up (the overlooked Love Beats Rhymes) offers an emotionally-charged depiction of an aspiring rapper. Both efforts, while admittedly flawed, display a sharp and personal perspective, a foundation RZA ably builds upon with his latest endeavor Cut Throat City. While shaggy in its wide-eyed ambition, this heist-drama packs a potent thematic punch alongside its pulpy elements.

    Cut Throat City follows four boyhood friends from New Orleans’ Lower Ninth Ward (Shameik Moore, Demetrius Shipp Jr., Denzel Whitaker, and Keean Johnson) who return after Hurricane Katrina to decimated homes, no jobs, and no help from FEMA. Out of options, they reluctantly turn to a local gangster, who offers them one shot at turning their situations around—by pulling off a dangerous heist in the heart of the city. When the job goes bad, the friends find themselves on the run, hunted by two relentless detectives and a neighborhood warlord who thinks they stole the heist money.

    While the plot employs several heist movie cliches, screenwriter P.G. Cuschieri introduces an inspired narrative crux to center his devices around. The Hurricane Katrina zeitgeist isn’t an empty ploy, with Cuschieri utilizing the setting to confront the growing class divide pushing improvised communities away from a prosperous future. This is well-trudged territory, but RZA and Cuschieri seem well-aware of its circular nature. They wisely frame their narrative through the anvils of history and folklore, connecting the distinctly modern struggles to a lifetime of inequality. At it’s best, this well-flavored approach reaches grand and oftentimes poetic sentiments, presenting generational conceits through RZA’s alluring visual lens (his saturation of colors and kinetic framing leave a strong impression).

    Cut Throat City’s massive cast features a bounty of assured performances. Most of them range from dramatically sincere turns (Shameik Moore and Demetrius Shipp Jr. display solid acting chops) to downright campy showcases (T.I., Terrance Howard, and Ethan Hawke chew the scenery with an infectious glee). This electric mixture would be tonally confused in the wrong hands, but RZA’s deft handling blends these elements cohesively. He meshes pulpy thrills with genuine dramatic steaks, thoughtfully building dimension for the film’s four underdog figures to flourish with.

    Similar to RZA’s previous efforts, Cut Throat City presents itself in a shaggy final form. Cuschieri’s thematic ambitions often clash with the jam-packed narrative, as the massive rogue’s gallery of characters distract from the script’s finite thesis (Eiza Gonzalez has nothing to do as a straight-laced cop). New subplots are introduced at a nonstop pace in the second half, bloating a web of threads that Cuschieri never gets complete hold of. I also wish RZA refined the film’s focus, with our affable leads taking a backseat role in the second half to the grander plot elements.

    That being said, Cut Throat City‘s falterings still register a certain earnestness, with RZA and company displaying a bold roller coaster ride that cleverly subverts genre conventions. It’s encouraging to see continued growth from RZA onscreen, and I can’t see what the star has in store next for audiences.

  • Echo Boomers: Review

    Echo Boomers: Review

    Heist films rank among my personal favorite subgenres, with great filmmakers often juxtaposing the methodical initial planning stages with an equally unhinged and ferocious final climax (Den of Thieves and American Animals are some recent favorites). First-time writer/director Seth Savoy looks to strike a similar blend with his debut feature Echo Boomers, a film that combines its heist machinations with the often-maligned milieu of discontented millennials. While intriguing in its conception, Savoy’s film fails to impress on a technical or thematic level.

    Based on a (loosely) true story, Echo Boomers follows Lance Zutterland (Patrick Schwarzenegger), a recent college graduate who leaves school in debt, realizing everything he had worked towards was built on a lie. When he is pulled into a criminal underground operation, he finds his peers fighting the system by stealing from the rich and giving to themselves. With nothing to lose, they leave behind a trail of destruction, but with the cops closing in, tensions mount and Lance soon discovers he is in over his head with no way out.

    To Savoy’s credit, enhancing his heist film formula with personal ruminations on a disenfranchised generation has potential on paper. His script makes an earnest effort to dissect millennial’s mindsets, an age group that feels failed by a society that preached a formula of success that rarely comes to fruition. The issues arise from Savoy’s inability to present this conceit with dramatic grace. Monotone voiceover often serves the purpose of displaying these concepts, spelling out their core meaning with a forward clumsiness. Echo Boomers’ throughline reads with a cheesy rah-rah attitude, never matching its fast-and-furious narrative with nuanced ideas.

    After stripping away the intriguing thematic flavoring, Echo Boomers stands as your typical run-of-the-mill actioner. Savoy never engages with his alluring rise-and-fall material in visceral ways, often relying upon chaotic edits to provide a semblance of style. The flat camera work is rarely spiced up with peppy execution choices, making the apparent budgetary restrictions all the more obvious in the process. I am extremely partisan to low-budget filmmakers who utilize their limited assets to the fullest, but there’s nothing present on-screen that capably displays much filmmaking vigor.

    Perhaps what derails Echo Boomers is the weightlessness that permeates each frame. Savoy’s script provides no characters to truly attach to, as they often range between blandly earnest do-gooders (Schwarzenegger and Hayley Law’s roles) to flavorless villains that lack real weight (Alex Pettyfer and Michael Shannon, with Shannon deserving so much more than the thinly-conceived role he’s given). The acting isn’t up to snuff to elevate the contrivances either, with Schwarzenegger having similarly flawed acting chops as his father. Where Arnold was able to mask his weaknesses with movie star charisma, Patrick doesn’t yet have the gravity to grab audiences’ interest. The narrative also lacks any genuine surprises, traversing through well-traveled territory without employing inventive wrinkles (audiences can seemingly set their watch to when each plot beat will appear).

    Floating through its 94 minutes run time while barely registering an impression, Echo Boomers’ mere competence can’t deliver a thrilling experience.

  • Jungleland: Review

    Jungleland: Review

    Boxing’s violent ferocity has taken center stage on the big screen before (Rocky, Raging Bull, Southpaw), but the sport’s seedy underground has rarely seen proper spotlight. That’s where Jungleland comes in, hitting release after its debut at the 2019 Toronto International Film Festival. While the film adheres to familiar trappings, director Max Winkler’s effort thankfully unearths a soulful, character-driven experience.

    Jungleland follows Lion (Jack O’Connell) and his overprotective brother Stanley (Charlie Hunnam) two drifters living on the outskirts of society. There only means of making ends meet derives from Lion’s raw boxing ability, as he establishes himself as a powerful force in the bare-knuckle fighting scene. In order to make up for Stanley’s debts, the two must transport Sky (Jessica Barden) across the country while competing in a heavy-weight boxing match.

    Most boxing films gravitate towards the publicized platform of grand prize fights, with the protagonist often battling it out for pride and a championship belt. Jungleland refreshingly changes that course, with every minor conflict being a life-or-death battle for Lion and Stanley. Winkler’s film grounds itself in vivid real-world steaks, enhancing the character’s desperate escape from the poverty line with striking agency and seedy environments (this is one of the rare movies to not glorify its road trip trappings, with the character’s journey through rustic America not being played as a simplistic travelogue).

    It could have been easy for Winkler’s film to sugarcoat its harsh reality with theatrical pleasantries, but the nitty-gritty presentation evokes the character’s dire straights effectively. Whether it’s a championship fight or a brawl in the parking lot, each hard-hitting fight registers a brutal impact that aptly represents Lion’s bare-knuckle style. Winkler’s direction ensures that each punch registers a weighty impact while incorporating a coherent, shaky-cam style that captures the wild furry of each punch.

    Under all the swaggering aesthetics, Jungleland ultimately works best as a character piece. Jack O’Connell and Charlie Hunnam are still wildly overlooked despite their success, with both actors imbuing familiar roles with emotional depth and weight. Hunnam steals the film as the lighting rod Stanley, whose fast-talking and vulgar style masks his deeply-seated adoration for his younger brother. O’Connell juxtaposes Stanley’s presentation with a far more subdued performance, portraying Lion as a quiet warrior who ponders his escape from the fighting lifestyle. The duo forms a tight-knit dynamic that sells their desperate journey throughout, often digging beneath the surface of their fragile relationship (this is one of the few films where the fighter approaches the sport as a source of survival rather than a genuine career pursuit). Jessica Barden also offerings some of her best work as Sky, forming a winning pair with O’Connell onscreen.

    Jungleland is at its bruising best when Winkler and company (co-writers David Branson Smith and Theodore Bressman) adhere to an aimless approach, allowing audiences to breathe and grow alongside its complex characters. Outside of these frames, the script embraces far too many sport movie cliches, especially in its initial set-up. The first act struggles to find its voice, implementing over-written plot dynamics that bring this personal story to a needlessly cinematic place. Winkler’s film dances between a formless and narrative-heavy approach without much ease, straddling audiences with exposition that overwhelms its personal core.

    The familiarity certainly hurts Jungleland, but it doesn’t mask its inherent charms. Winkler’s film works as a well-established character study that doesn’t glorify its grounded dynamics.