film reviews, interviews, features | BRWC

Author: Matt Conway

  • Death Of Me: Review

    Death Of Me: Review

    There’s no better time to bask in the eerie glow of horror movies than October, as genre fans often indulge in a melody of films to prep for the Halloween season. While wide releases may be far and few between right now, indie studios look to keep the tradition alive with some new VOD releases. That’s where Death of Me comes in, the latest from veteran director Darren Lynn Bousman (director of Saw 2, 3, 4, and the upcoming Spiral). Bousman’s latest isn’t without its fair share of intriguing qualities, yet this moody mystery fails to truly take off.

    Death of Me follows Christine (Maggie Q) and Neil (Luke Hemsworth), a couple in the midst of a South Pacific island getaway. After a night they can’t remember, the two wake up to witness a video of Neil murdering Christine, sparking a surrealist descent down the island’s unknown dangers.

    In a genre where innovation is exhibited more in filmmaking prowess than narrative ingenuity, Death of Me boasts a surprisingly engaging premise. Taking the “recollecting your steps” narrative approach from Memento and The Hangover but including a tinge of supernatural horror, the script presents a few clever twists and turns that grasp audience’s interest. Bousman’s direction works best when it embellishes in the story’s surrealist nature, throwing a bevy of grimy chills to unnerve audiences. Some of these convey the lingering dangers of the unknown, playing off the character’s paranoia to develop a sense of atmosphere early on.

    Despite the initial promise, Death of Me can’t quite combine its ingredients into a satisfying whole. The script does little to build around its positive foundation, strapping stars Maggie Q and Luke Hemsworth with two thanklessly bland roles. Q’s overlooked abilities certainly help propel the narrative, but the two characters never feel as lived-in as their relationship would indicate. It’s also a letdown to see the script never engage with its horrors in substantive ways, giving audiences little to attach to aside from a thinly-veiled sense of dread.

    As the narrative puzzle pieces come together, Death of Me reveals its fairly unimpressive hand. Instead of leading to a shocking conclusion, the script goes through the motions as it chalks down its frights to a simplistic case of tribalism. I don’t know about you, but the concept of an international culture operating in violent and backward ways feels extremely dated at this point. It’s a tiresome cliche that undercuts the compelling thrills that are brought to the table.

    Death of Me‘s alluring set-up ultimately goes nowhere, leaving audiences with a routine horror showcase that lacks substance and originality.

    DEATH OF ME will be available In Theatres, On Demand and Digital October 2nd. 

  • 2067: Review

    2067: Review

    Considering the world’s dire straights, contemplative science fiction films hold more relevance than ever, taking to task several critical facets that are often overlooked in society. Writer/director Seth Larney’s debut film 2067 sets its sights on our degenerative environment, though its so-so follow-through can’t convey the weight of its ambitions.

    Set in a dystopian world where air has become a commodity, 2067 follows Ethan Whyte (Kodi Smit-McPhee), a grunt worker who is thrust into a vital role to save the world. As the son of an acclaimed scientist, Ethan is sent forward in time to bring back a cure for their ongoing pandemic, though his task may not be as straight-forward as it seems.

    For his debut feature, Larney makes a relatively strong impression. His visceral direction aptly works to construct a lived-in science fiction landscape, depicting a society teetering towards destruction (seeing “air” as a higher-quality privilege has a painful relevance to our COVID-world). The Blade-Runner inspired visuals present enough inventive details to stand out from 2067’s science fiction peers. It’s also easy to appreciate the thematic bones of Larney’s material, with the film occasionally touching on how governments look for cheap solutions to environmental problems and how the poor are viewed as negligible sacrifices towards the world’s survival.

    While 2067 presents engaging ideas, Larney’s script lacks proper follow-through. Instead of slowly building these conceits throughout the narrative, much of the focus goes towards the narrative’s mechanical design, fixating on plot details over the intriguing ideas simmering under the surface. The film ends up making these pertinent values feel more like window dressing, as they are appealing at first glance but ultimately hollow under full examanation.

    If the film can’t deliver substantive ruminations, does it least satisfy that genre movie itch? Not quite. While the story does get off to a promising start, most of the narrative travels down well-trudged territory. There’s little on paper that surprises audiences, with the script setting up plot twists that could be predicted by most. Larney’s character work also comes off as thin. Kodi Smit-McPhee’s central protagonist is little more than a pleasant everyman, lacking the dimension or humanity to connect with audiences.

    2067 can’t quite reinvent its familiar sci-fi trappings. That being said, Seth Larney’s debut does show promise, with his pertinent ideas and assured craftsmanship displaying his bright future in the industry.

  • LX 2048: Review

    LX 2048: Review

    I can’t deny my fandom for low-budget science fiction, which often leaves me championing overlooked films that many simply dismiss. As modern sci-fi predicates towards bombastic thrills over idealistic conceits, indie efforts like writer/director Guy Moshe’s latest LX 2048 play a vital role in keeping the subgenre’s spirit alive. Though his final product comes with some unevenness, Moshe’s film successful colors familiar beats with its own twisted, macabre approach.

    Set in a post-apocalyptic future where most spend their days hooked into a virtual world (citizens must avoid the sun due to its damaging qualities), LX 2048 follows Adam Bird (James D’Arcy), a VR executive who vehemently works to assure his family a prosperous future (Anna Brewster as his wife Rena) before dying from heart failure (once Adam dies, a superior clone version will seamlessly take his place). As Adam digs deeper into the VR realm, he discovers that all may not be what it seems.

    LX 2048 grabs audiences from jump street with its intoxicating world-building. Moshe masterfully manages his inexpensive assets to create a defined landscape, turning our planet into a desolate world that rings with a lingering emptiness (a scene where Adam drives through a vacant Los Angeles with a hazmat suit was particularly resonant). The only interactions Adam has outside his home is with AI units, which Moshe morph into an uneasy presence that tries (and fails) to replicate human behavior. Whether it’s the bright rays of the sun or the speeding trains racing by Adam’s window, Moshe uses every world-building device to develop a pervasive atmosphere that sticks with audiences. The vacant qualities of the landscape create an apt representation of humanity’s emotional distance in a VR-driven world.

    As a great sci-fi film should, Moshe’s script introduces intriguing societal questions for audiences to untangle. It’s easy to observe the parallels between the film’s technologically-driven future to our own reality. Thankfully, these comparisons are drawn with a thematic bite and proper emotionality, rendering Adam’s journey for human connection into a universal search for attachment in a detached world. James D’Arcy central performance sells the character’s arc with an unhinged mania, slowly depicting Adam’s unraveling without an ounce of theatricality.

    LX 2048’s notable strengths efficiently mask the narrative’s inherent flaws. Mosche’s screenplay draws from several genre hallmarks, often reusing ideas that have been conveyed with more depth and resonance before. Much of the cliches derive from the film’s go-for-broke third act. I appreciate the writer/director’s desire to keep the audience’s on their toes, but the late twists can be predicted from a mile away. Mosche’s film works better when it favors its desolate atmosphere over the screenplay’s mechanical plotting (Delroy Lindo has a supporting role that goes nowhere).

    LX 2048 isn’t without its unkempt qualities, yet Guy Mosche’s film thankfully values substantive ruminations over superficial thrills.

  • Enola Holmes: The BRWC Review

    Enola Holmes: The BRWC Review

    Whether its the quirky whimsy of Robert Downey Jr’s big-screen performance or the steely-eyed precision of Benedict Cumberbatch’s take, Sherlock Holmes is a figure who has numerous personifications in popular culture. Instead of delivering more enigmatic mysteries from Sherlock’s repertoire, Netflix looks to jumpstart a new franchise with Enola Holmes, which follows the journey of Sherlock’s precocious younger sister. While the film never reinvents its familiar trappings, this assured origin entry delivers a briskly-paced diversion packed with charisma and wit.

    Based on Nancy Springer’s novels, the film follows Enola Holmes (Millie Bobby Brown), who lives outside of society’s gender norms with her mother Eudoria (Helena Bonham Carter). When Eudoria suddenly goes missing, her elder brothers Sherlock (Henry Cavill) and Mycroft (Sam Claflin) return home, setting Enola off on a mystery to solve her mother’s sudden disappearance.

    Enola Holmes is well aware of audience’s preconceived notions about Arthur Conan Doyle’s source material, cleverly turning those established conceits on their head. Jack Thorne’s screenplay aptly centers itself in Enola’s chipper perspective, conveying her idealistic and rambunctious spirit with a naturalistic light and wry sensibility. This isn’t your grandparent’s typical period piece, with director Harry Bradbeer unabashedly embracing a youthful voice that conveys resonant truths about adolescents (the fourth-wall breaking segments are used effectively). Bradbeer and Thorne also ground Enola’s struggles in a modern sensibility. The character’s timeless battle against stereotypical gender roles registers a genuine impression that should connect with younger viewers.

    Much of the material’s innate charm derives from the assured cast. Millie Bobby Brown displayed instant star power as Eleven in Stranger Things, but it’s her portrayal of Enola that marks her best performance to date. Brown carries the film like a seasoned pro, imbuing a sly sense of humor that keeps audiences on their toes while capturing the humanity behind Enola’s sharp facade. Henry Cavill and Sam Claflin make for a dynamite one-two-punch as Sherlock and Mycroft. Cavill implements the legends’ suave charm from his own voice, which Claflin counters brilliantly with his stuffy portrayal of Mycroft’s rigid sensibility.

    Enola Holmes registers a positive impression for its first outing, yet there are some areas a potential sequel can improve on. Bradbeer’s direction tries to implement a stylistic pulse through his usage of collage-based transitions. The issue arises from the film’s inability to do much outside of that, with generic framing leaving a familiar “Netflix movie” aroma. I was also left wanting more from Thorne’s fairly predictable narrative, as the film rarely deceives audiences the way a cunning mystery should.

    Starting a promising franchise on the right foot, Enola Holmes eschews its YA formula by implementing its own distinct charm.

  • No Escape: Review

    No Escape: Review

    No Escape (alternatively titled Follow Me) is the latest genre film to set its sights on our modern social media-obsessed culture (this year alone featured the accomplished satire Spree and the less successful heist thriller Infamous). Meshing a bevy of intriguing aspirations, writer/director Will Wernick creates an unsatisfactory concoction stuck in filmmaking autopilot.

    No Escape follows Cole (Keegan Allen), a social media star who has spent the last decade vlogging his day-to-day adventures. To celebrate his 10-year landmark, Cole and his friends travel to Moscow to experience a personalized escape room, though this new endeavor may present an unknown danger to Cole’s picturesque image.

    With genre horror films releasing at a prevalent clip, filmmakers must work diligently to find inventive new angles to explore horror’s machinations. While the social media flavor adds some intriguing wrinkles to the table (a semi-interesting exploration of the different ways personalities act on and off camera), Wernick’s effort uses these concepts as mere window dressing to his standard-issue affair.

    The script fails to infuse a substantive throughline between its poser protagonist and the horrors he’s subjected too, missing a prime opportunity to comment on social media users’ jaded relationship with horrific violence. It doesn’t help that the workmanlike cast is straddled with blandly conceived roles, utilizing clunky dialogue that often over-explains the character’s whims and desires. Wernick never decides if we should be vilifying Cole for his vapid actions or sympathize with his over-exposed lifestyle, opting for a murky middle ground that doesn’t satisfy either angle.

    All could be forgiven if No Escape generated some eerie scares, yet this is the department Wernick struggles the most. Aping the grimy setting and trap-oriented approach of Saw isn’t necessarily a bad idea on paper. The issues arise from the lack of creativity brought to the screen, utilizing cheap, predictable setpieces that do little to inspire dread. Saw was able to hide its inexpensive assets by pushing the boundaries of the torture porn subgenre. No Escape seems pleased to operate in the shadow of superior films, complacently going through the motions with little panache.

    A “gotcha” twist ending does bring some fun to the table, though it can’t hide No Escape’s trite, bargain bin execution.