film reviews, interviews, features | BRWC

Author: Matt Conway

  • Matt’s Festival Round-Up: From NYFF, AFI, And Beyond

    Matt’s Festival Round-Up: From NYFF, AFI, And Beyond

    Festival season is upon us, which means hours spent glued to computer screens due to the current COVID conditions. While the situation does put a damper on the typical festival spirit, it does allow critics like me the chance to sift through a wide array of content fairly easily. With that being said, here are my thoughts on some of the notable festival darlings grabbing audience’s interest, including films from NYFF (New York Film Festival), AFI (American Film Institute), Nightstream, Hampton, and Middleburg respectively.

    MINARI: THE HEARTLAND FILM FESTIVAL

    Synopsis: It’s the 1980s, and David, a seven-year-old Korean American boy, is faced with new surroundings and a different way of life when his father, Jacob, moves their family from the West Coast to rural Arkansas.

    Drawn from writer/director Lee Isaac Chung’s personal experiences, Minari thrives as one of the rare comings of age tales to weave in a deeply-intimate, yet universally profound narrative about a family staying afloat while chasing the American Dream. It’s also one of the rare awards fare movies that are able to convey their central conceits with a humanistic eye, shying away from the theatrical grandiosity that plagues several dramas of this nature.

    For Chung, this is an impressive breakout effort. He skillfully paints around the crevices, favoring finite moments of familial connection over major plot beats. The film’s low-key nature is part of its charm, allowing audiences to breathe with the characters and their personal journey. Chung and Director of Photography Lachlan Milne find visually-inspired ways to capture the story, while Chung’s screenplay rarely misses a beat from an authenticity standpoint. He balances the character’s plights with comforting warmth and humor, controlling the tonal balance with a deft sensibility (this is quietly one of the year’s funniest movies).

    The performance work across the board is also exceptional, with Steven Yeun and Yuh-Jung Youn delivering two Oscar-worthy performances (Yeun conveys the character’s personal and paternal struggles while Youn is a joy as David’s eccentric grandma). Aside from a somewhat rushed and chaotic third act, there’s little to nitpick about Minari, which will likely be a film discussed throughout the 2021 awards season.

    ONE NIGHT IN MIAMI: MIDDLEBURG FILM FESTIVAL

    Synopsis: A fictional account of one incredible night where icons Muhammad Ali, Malcolm X, Sam Cooke, and Jim Brown gathered discussing their roles in the civil rights movement and cultural upheaval of the 60s.

    Few festival films live up to their outsized hype, yet Regina King’s directorial debut One Night in Miami accomplishes that rare feat. Using its fictionalized set-up to meditate on black celebrities’ roles as agents of representation and progress, this is a rare film that ably speaks volumes about the past and our contemporary world.

    Miami boasts one of the year’s strongest ensemble casts. Aldis Hodge (Jim Brown), Eli Goree (Muhammad Ali), and Leslie Odom Jr. (Sam Cooke) continue their impressive career ascensions, but its relative newcomer Kingsley Ben-Adir who leaves the strongest impression as the impassioned Malcolm X. Each actor is able to imbue their historic personas with nuance and agency, creating lived-in portraits that come to life in ways few biopics can match. Kemp Powers screenplay pops with lively dialogue exchanges and intelligent ruminations, eschewing the “Oscar bait” trappings that often hinder films of this caliber.

    Some will critique King’s lack of visceral craft, though the actresses turned director accomplishes an impressive achievement with her first outing. Ruminating on its central conciets with soul and intelligence, One Night in Miami makes a powerful and exceedingly relevant statement.

    THE FRENCH EXIT: NEW YORK FILM FESTIVAL

    Synopsis: An aging Manhattan socialite living on what’s barely left of her inheritance moves to a small apartment in Paris with her son and cat.

    French Exit operates as a distinctly mannered comedy unafraid to embrace a quirky sensibility. Few films can pull off having a cat (played by Tracy Letts) voice the dead spirit of a deceased love one with a straight face, but that’s just one of the many charming asides that Azazel Jacobs new film brings to the table. I wasn’t a huge fan of Jacobs’ last film The Lovers, which asked interesting questions about monogamy before bailing on its conceits in the third act. Here, Jacobs works vehemently to elicit an acerbic tonality that takes risks with its seemingly conventional set-up. Akin to the deadpan delivery of Wes Anderson films, Jacobs imbues a certain sincerity to the material that sells the bizarre gags, including a supporting cast of colorful characters who elevate their one-note roles.

    While the film’s detached sensibility won’t sell everyone, its strong central performance will certainly turn heads. This was a role tailor-made for Michelle Pfeiffer’s bitting ability, bringing Frances’ sharp persona to life with wit and proper dimension. Lucas Hedges also offers one of his best performances as Frances’ neurotic son, ably working to define the character outside of his conditioned mannerisms. There’s a lingering sense of melancholy that pairs nicely with the comedic sensibility, as the film occasionally explores the intimacy, or lack thereof, of the mother-son duo (ruminations on the wealth’s ambivalent detachment to the world around them also register, as Frances makes a spirited effort to upend this with large monetary donations to random strangers).

    That being said, French Exit lacks the refined visual identity and impactful emotional core to truly elevate its material. I can see some film fans clamoring to label this as a Wes Anderson rip-off (early world out of NYFF has been mixed), but that would be an unfair distinction to Jacobs’ work. While it may not register as the “awards film” people predicted it to be, Jacobs’ film unearths a humorous odyssey from the character’s separation with wealth and the baggage it brings.

    CONCRETE COWBOY: MIDDLEBURG FILM FESTIVAL

    Synopsis: A teenager discovers the world of urban horseback riding when he moves in with his estranged father in North Philadelphia.

    I was enamored with what Concrete Cowboy attempts to uncover onscreen. Along with highlighting underserved real-world communities, writer/director Ricky Staub’s film critiques the numerous ways black frontier culture has been whitewashed in American history. At its peak, Staub’s effort personifies its own voice within the western ascetic while aptly representing thoughtful societal dynamics through his stylistic verve.

    This innate promise makes Concrete Cowboy’s inconsistent delivery frustrating to endure. As an adaptation of Greg Neri’s novel, the narrative doesn’t translate well on screen, adapting a melody of cliches while never defining a consistent structure (the third act feels rushed and thinly-conceived). It’s a letdown to see a vital concept consistently marred by antiquated plot mechanics, including a distant father/son dynamic that lacks authenticity. Caleb McLaughlin and Idris Elba are a compelling onscreen pair, yet their charismatic performances feel underserved at every turn.

    There are elements to appreciate throughout Staub’s film, but Concrete Cowboy ultimately lands as a missed opportunity.

    SHADOW IN THE CLOUD: AFI FILM FESTIVAL

    Synopsis: A female WWII pilot traveling with top-secret documents on a B-17 Flying Fortress encounters an evil presence on board the flight.

    Winner of the TIFF Midnight Madness award, Shadow in the Cloud boasts the scrappy allures of a guilty pleasure B-movie. Director Roseanne Liang invents a few high-flying setpieces despite strict resources, including a third act that depicts its aerial dogfights with slick camera work. She pushes her 83-minute film with her frenetic pace, using her boilerplate set-up to convey an air of tension and intrigue.

    Liang’s efforts are admirable, yet her film struggles to find its footing when the action isn’t onscreen. Liang’s script strives to critique the overt chauvinism of the era, an admirable intention that lacks proper nuance. The characters and dialogue are steeped in hokey 40’s cliches that severely undercut any dramatic aspirations. It’s a bummer, especially since Chloe Grace Moretz’s lead performance carries the film with a chipper and commanding energy.

    Shadow in the Cloud has the shameless joys of a satisfying low-rent diversion. The issues arise when viewing the film as anything greater than that limited context.

    MANDIBLES: THE NIGHTSTREAM FILM FESTIVAL

    Synopsis: Two simple-minded friends discover a giant fly in the trunk of a car and decide to domesticate it to earn money with it.

    Quentin Dupieux continues to push forward his surrealist comedic sensibility, with films like Rubber, Wrong Cops, and Deerskin showcasing a craftsman operating with an idiosyncratic voice onscreen. His latest Mandibles continues to push his unique vision forward, although it’s not quite as refined as some of his previous endeavors.

    That’s not to say Mandibles is without its charming allures. Dupiex’s oddball sincerity is always admirable, knowingly handling bizarre gags with a straight-face delivery that sells the ridiculousness. His latest film brings a Dumb and Dumber approach to The Fly, following two abscent-minded friends (Gregoire Ludig and David Marsais) who continuously find unintelligible answers to their problems. The two central performances convey the idiocy with a certain charisma and conviction, often drawing laughs as the film sets up its premise.

    Mandibles eventually overstays its welcome though, employing a plethora of gags that feel more grating than gratifying (Blue is the Warmest Color star Adele Exarchopoulos plays a character who shrieks all of her dialogue). Dupiex’s films go as far as their concept can take them, but I felt Mandibles ran out of steam even before its 77-minute runtime concluded. Still, his latest is sure to incite passionate support from some of his loyal followers.

    BLACK BEAR: NIGHTSTREAM

    Synopsis: A filmmaker at a creative impasse seeks solace from her tumultuous past at a rural retreat, only to find that the woods summon her inner demons in intense and surprising ways.

    Few films this year have kept me on my toes like Lawrence Michael Levine’s latest Black Bear. Audiences who go in with a blind notion about the project will discover a film that continually evolves itself, ultimately creating a compelling character-driven piece that meditates on its own genre’s existence.

    Without giving much away (I recommend avoiding the trailers if possible), Levine splits his narrative into two central halves, though he meshes these conjoined realities through the character’s insecurities and baggage. The second half is where the film finds its true voice, delving into the manner in which filmmakers and actors evoke their own damaged realities into their work. Aubrey Plaza and Christopher Abbott’s performances are stunning, with Plaza conveying an emotional whirlwind that is hard to look away from. It’s a joy to see her find new wrinkles in her persona, while Abbott continues to prove himself as one of the industry’s unheralded gems (he captures the neurotic focus of a director with wit and a deranged dedication).

    Black Bear is a true must-see, boldly deconstructing its indie sensibility through an inventive narrative framework. It descends into emotionally raw and cerebral territory with impressive ease, possessing the ability to become a future cult staple.

    THE DOORMAN: NIGHTSTREAM

    Synopsis: A woman returns from combat and befriends a family in NYC. A gang of thieves plot to take the family’s valuables, and she is all that stands between them and their lives.

    Ruby Rose has operated as a capable action star, yet her latest starring vehicle The Doorman does little to boost her profile. Contently swimming in a pool of genre contrivances, this straight-forward actioner rarely reanimates its antiquated roots.

    It’s frustrating to see considering Rose and director Ryuhei Kitamura’s talents. The Midnight Meat Train director displays some stylistic verve with his framing, although his ingenuity is often hindered by the apparent budgetary restrictions. The narrative takes a promising Die Hard-esque approach that’s never spiced with fresh ingredients. Rose’s protagonist Ali isn’t much better, straddling the actress with a stoic, thinly-drawn hero that fails to engage.

    Adequately passing the time but rarely engaging, The Doorman greets audiences with an oppressive sense of familiarity.

    I also covered a few films from this year’s Toronto International Film Festival if you want to read full reviews of Nomadland and Another Round.

  • Love And Monsters: Review

    Love And Monsters: Review

    YA adaptations used to be all the rave, yet the genre has descended towards an irrelevant pathway. These former franchise-starters are few and far between now, and the entries that do get released are often met with unceremonious reactions (The Darkest Minds and The Mortal Instruments went by without much fanfare). Paramount’s long-delayed project Love and Monsters feels like a relic of that bygone era, though that’s necessarily a bad thing. Imbuing its narrative trappings with an endearing charm, this YA vehicle offers a welcomed VOD surprise (originally was scheduled for 2021 theatrical release).

    Set in a post-apocalyptic future, Love and Monsters follows Joel Dawson (Dylan O’Brien), an anxious man spending his solemn days living in a bunker community. When he hears his old girlfriend Aimee (Jessica Henwick) on the radio, Joel sets out for a daring journey to cross the inhabited land, encountering several gargantuan creatures in the process.

    Most films approach their post-apocalyptic setting with a nihilistic dread, which makes director Michael Matthews playful sensibility a welcome change of pace for the genre. Whether it’s Joel’s sardonic narration or clever cartoon montages, Matthews isn’t afraid to color the genre’s trappings with a deft self-awareness. This decision shapes an imaginative voice behind Love and Monsters’ presentation, displaying a film that isn’t eager to play it safe inside its genre construction (similar to Warm Bodies, this film conveys its dark realities while juxtaposing that with a dry sense of humor).

    It helps that Love and Monsters impresses with its sturdy craftsmanship. Matthews and his crew design some well-constructed monster designs that whisk audiences into the film’s uncanny world. These super-sized creatures represent lurking dangers at their worst, yet some of them serve as empathetic forces that reflect the kindness of the world around them. Credit is also due to the film’s central stars, as Dyan O’Brien captures the earnest affability behind Joel’s skittish delivery. Jessica Henwick is a star in the making, elevating Aimee’s standard-issue design with her commanding presence.

    Love and Monsters gets by on its scrappy earnestness, though its strengths cant cover up the lingering sense of familiarity. Duffield’s iteration of the script has been collecting dust since 2012, dating itself with simplistically-drawn character work and contrived plot detours (a third act twist can be seen coming from a mile away). It doesn’t help that the movie approaches its parable on empathy’s worldly impact with a hockey self-seriousness that derails any thematic impact.

    Still, I can’t deny Love and Monsters innate charms, employing enough smarts and good-will to elevate its formula.

  • Vampires vs. The Bronx: The BRWC Review

    Vampires vs. The Bronx: The BRWC Review

    Vampires vs. The Bronx is the first of several horror-centric titles set to hit Netflix during the month of October. Successfully tying-in with an upcoming holiday is often easier said than done though, as the streaming giant’s 2019 Halloween slate (Fractured and In the Tall Grass) failed to generate a positive impression. Thankfully, their latest horror venture unearths a promising debut from writer/director Osmany Rodriguez, delivering a spirited adventure that intelligently connects its thrills to our societal zeitgeist.

    The film follows Miguel aka “Young Mayor” (Jaden Mitchell), Bobby (Gerald Jones III), and Luis (Gregory Diaz IV), a trio of precocious teens adamantly standing against the gentrification of their neighborhood. New tenets aren’t the only issue, as the three quickly realize their neighbors are blood-thirsty vampires.

    Instead of fixating on superficial thrills, Rodriguez’s film aptly grounds itself in a sense of place. The opening act soundly establishes our characters and their beloved neighborhood with charm and style, whisking audiences into a lively place that sings with personality (including a few playoff homages to Spike Lee). Rodriguez’s script defines his world with a very genuine eye, drafting free-flowing conversations and witty banter that fly right off the page. It helps that the central stars, Mitchell, Jones III, and Diaz IV, make for a dynamic trio, with the young performers elevating what could be archetype roles (cameos by Method Mad and The Kid Mero are also quite fun).

    As good horror should, Vampires vs. The Bronx reflects on societal dynamics. Instead of crafting a lengthy thesis on gentrification, Rodriguez addresses the systematic problem through the film’s playful humor. This approach feels tailor-made for the horror/comedy tonality, discarding a self-serious preachiness that plagues other entries in the genre. I also appreciate the finite tonal line Rodriguez totes, creating an approachable family horror film that still isn’t afraid to throw some dramatic stakes at its adolescent audiences.

    There’s fun to be had with Vampires vs. The Bronx, though its pleasures are relatively slight. The narrative often feels bogged down by cliched plot beat, with the personable qualities Rodriguez imbues only covering so much ground. There are also some struggles when the film dances outside its core focus, with a B-plot involving the allures of gangster life lacking the dimension to register a strong impression.

    When operating at its apex, Vampires vs. The Bronx thrives as an inspired remix of genre influences.

  • The Opening Act: Review

    The Opening Act: Review

    The Opening Act is the latest comedy to take an intimate look at stand-up comedians milieu (Funny People and Dolemite is My Name stand out). Starring Jimmy O Yang, a stand-up turned actor with a surging career path after roles in Silicon Valley and Space Force, this low-key hangout comedy elicits a personal reflection on stand-up’s rocky road to self-actualization on stage.

    The film follows Will Chu (Yang), an aspiring stand-up stuck in the doldrums of his miserable insurance job (boss played by Bill Burr). When he’s recommended by a peer Quinn (Ken Jeong) to MC for the famed stand-up Billy G (Cedric the Entertainer), Will quits his job to pursue his longtime dream.

    Much of this narrative rests on the shoulders of Jimmy O Yang’s central performance. Thankfully, Yang is up for the task, with the comedian imbuing his charismatic comedic persona to enhance the character’s archetype conception. His act has an earnestness that resonated with me, as he’s unafraid to poke fun at himself and the pre-conceived notions people have about him. Yang also portrays the character’s roller-coaster journey with emotional sincerity, thoughtfully weaving his own experiences on the road to becoming a stand-up figure (the closing credits share personal reflections of the star’s first sets).

    The Opening Act is admittedly shaggy (director Steven Byrne‘s visual style lacks dynamic traits), but the film is crafted with an infectious adoration for its subject. Involving an array of acclaimed stand-ups, Byrne’s film is at its best when the focus delves into the delicate process of a comedian finding their voice. The script doesn’t sugarcoat the journey with superficial pleasantries, finding a comfortable balance between the aspiration and despair upcoming talents come to terms with. Supporting players like Cedric the Entertainer, Bill Burr, and Ken Jeong personify their roles with their distinct personas, with Cedric portraying the old-timer Billy G with an assured swagger.

    This film is rarely unpleasant, yet it also never pushes the audience’s expectations. Byrne’s screenplay incorporates B-plots the lack static development, including Will’s girlfriend and friends who merely stand as supportive staples. The lack of ingenuity is further marred by the mixed track record of laughs. When the film steers away from its stand-up material, overly-scripted gags often land with an awkward thud (a bit involving an awkward date goes nowhere).

    It’s allures may be relatively slight, but The Opening Act still succeeds as an agreeable foray into the stand-up scene.

  • Charm City Kings: The BRWC Review

    Charm City Kings: The BRWC Review

    HBO Max is still in its infancy, though the streaming service already seems to be finding its groove. Alongside a bevy of adored classics, the service has started a promising library of original content, including accomplished films like Unpregenant and Class Action Park. The latest film to join that lineage is Charm City Kings, which premiered at this year’s Sundance Film Festival (it was originally purchased by Sony Pictures Classic, but was sold once COVID began). Painting a deeply authentic portrait of Baltimore’s impoverished community, director Angel Manuel Soto crafts one of the year’s most assured features.

    Charm City Kings follows Mouse (Jahi Di’Allo Winston), a precocious teen growing up in the streets of Baltimore. Still mourning his older brother’s death, Mouse spends his days idealizing the Midnight Clique, a biker gang that imbues life into their community with lively stuntwork. When Mouse gets an opportunity to work under a former member Blax (acclaimed rapper Meek Mill), he’s introduced into the allures and dangers of the crew’s lifestyle.

    Several films have confronted the circular reality of the gangster lifestyle, often initiating members when they are at their lowest financially before being trapped after incurring run-ins for the law (As Blax aptly puts, “you don’t get second chances in this life”). Instead of merely conveying this reality, Charm City Kings observes these conditions with an empathetic eye, imbuing a sense of confliction and self-reflection into the central subjects. Sherman Payne’s screenplay enhances this focus with a character-driven approach, centralizing his effort on lived-in personas over-familiar plot dynamics.

    It certainly helps that Charm City Kings bolsters two accomplished acting showcases. This film rides or dies with Jahi Di’Allo Winston’s performance of Mouse, with the 16-year old being up for the tall task. Exhibiting unheralded poise and nuance for his age, Winston allows audiences to feel the character’s every joy and pain through his dedicated conviction. Meek Mill’s acting debut is perhaps the biggest standout, taping into a potent sensitivity that harkens to the Mahershala Ali’s breakout performance in Moonlight. His arc represents the tight-wire act between living a prosperous life and succumbing to the dangers of the character’s environment, with Mill unearthing a potent paternal strength as Mouse’s supportive role model. Young stars Kezii Curtis and Donielle Hansley Jr. also leave a strong impression as Mouse’s personable friends.

    In lesser hands, Charm City Kings could’ve landed as a run-of-the-mill detour into a community’s lingering pains, but director Angel Manuel Soto thankfully invigorates his film with finite precision. His technical ability propels the narrative forward with a pressing sense of agency, incorporating dynamic framing to convey the character’s unease and personal demons. Soto also has a blast portraying the Midnight Clique’s stylish daredevil act, including a tense bike chase that ranks among the year’s most exciting sequences (the film was originally based on a documentary about Baltimore’s bike gangs).

    Charm City Kings unearths its timeless ruminations with precision and verve, throttling forward a narrative that is equally impactful and enthralling. I can’t wait to see where Soto, Payne, Winston, and Mill go with their already-prosperous careers.