film reviews, interviews, features | BRWC

Author: Matt Conway

  • Antebellum: The BRWC Review

    Antebellum: The BRWC Review

    Unnerving audiences with an uncanny sensibility, horror films continue to excel as the genre reaches for new substantive heights. Filmmakers like Jordan Peel, Ari Aster, Jennifer Kent, and Robert Eggers have imbued a new sense of artistry and purpose into the familiar framework, setting a new high-bar for filmmakers to follow. Writer/Directors Gerard Bush and Christopher Renz attempt to follow suit with their first feature Antebellum, a promising, yet misguided attempt to confront systematic racism.

    Antebellum follows Veronica (Janelle Monae), a successful author and political pundit who works to confront society’s uncomfortable truths. After being kidnapped, Veronica awakes as a slave stuck in a pre-Reconstruction time period. Left to fight for her life, she attempts to discover what’s going on under the surface of this bizarre reality.

    Observing slavery’s discriminatory practices to reflect on modern prejudices stemmed from that antiquated era, Bush and Renz certainly have a pulse on a wide-spanning conceit. The problems arise from their inability to illustrate deeper nuances within their high-concept set-up. Like many first screenplays, Antebellum rests solely on the laurels of its intriguing premise, implementing wooden dialogue and a lingering sense of inauthenticity that stunt the narrative at every turn.

    The scenes set in the modern era are especially flat, revolving around over-written caricatures that muddle the filmmakers’ tangible intentions (a Fox News-esque sequence lands with a clunky obviousness). These issues severely hamper star Janelle Monae, whose previously shined as a multi-faceted talent with radiant charisma onscreen. As Veronica, Monae is letdown by a thankless role devoid of personability and weight, leaving audiences with nothing to attach to.

    Antebellum sells itself as a horror film, but without proper gravitas, the execution lands closer to uncomfortable exploitation. Slavery has morphed into tired subject matter, often relegating talented black actors to submissive roles that only work to trudge up an ugly, well-known reality. Attempts to build a sense of atmosphere and unease through these depictions land with an awkward thud, lacking the grace and substantive core to give purpose to these actions. There are some promising frames that have me intrigued by Bush and Renz’s future (the final frames evoke a visceral impact and emotional power), although it’s clear there’s room for refinement.

    While constructed with noble aspirations, Antebellum’s clumsy execution fails to evoke the weight of its subject matter.

  • The Social Dilemma: Review

    The Social Dilemma: Review

    Debuting at this year’s Sundance Film Festival, Netflix’s The Social Dilemma is the latest documentary to set its sights on our social media-obsessed culture. Combining its factual ruminations with a docu-narrative hybrid approach, director Jeff Orlowski’s unique angle to the genre fails to pack a pertinent punch.

    Mixing testimonies from social media executives and internet theorists, The Social Dilemma analyzes our daily relationship with these controversial platforms. What many see as a means of connecting presents wholly unknown dangers to the real world, depicting the increased misinformation and emotional apathy generated from frequent interactions. The film shows these dynamics through an interwoven subplot, which follows an ordinary family grappling with their own obsessive tendencies with media outlets.

    Considering our persistent relationship with smartphones, The Social Dilemma does have some relevant information to relay. Orlowski’s film works when it dives deeply into the nuances behind social media’s uncontrollable nature, particularly how platforms operate as destructive forces against democracy. The increase in polarization and ill-advised propaganda are harmful symptoms of our new reality, showcasing toxic issues that could become fatal if not recognized. I do think people utilize social media without recognizing the consequences behind their behaviors, with this film offering a vital roadmap for those who aren’t as informed.

    The Social Dilemma will give audiences a serviceable roadmap of these problems, but it lacks the nuance to convey their full extent. Orlowski’s approach spreads itself thin, dancing around different facets without rendering each with proper thought and insights. It’s clear this film could’ve benefited from a deeper roster of interview subjects, skewing their focus towards elitist tech workers rather than capturing those at the ground floor of these side-effects (would have loved insights from someone directly impacted by Facebook’s altering of democratic values). This approach delivers a film that settles on simplistic conclusions that add nothing new to the conversation.

    The Social Dilemma tries to imbue a fresh change of pace through its semi-narrative approach, yet its inclusion acts as an unwarranted distraction. Orlowski’s lack of experience in narrative filmmaking is on full display, crafting segments that reek of sitcom-y contrivances and hackneyed dialogue. Skylar Gisondo and Kara Hayward are capable actors straddled with thankless roles, as the after school special narrative only stands to display obvious reinactments rather than further enhancing the concepts onscreen (the narrative feels so poorly constructed, journeying down bizarre plot threads without an ounce of development).

    Despite highlighting vital subject matter, The Social Dilemma only offers half-baked truths.

  • Ava: Review

    Ava: Review

    Oscar-nominated actress Jessica Chastain emanates an instant presence onscreen, utilizing her innate ability to convey strong performances in Zero Dark Thiry and Molly’s Game. Her enduring strength always seemed tailor-made for the action genre, making her latest staring endeavor Ava an intriguing proposition. Despite bolstering an acclaimed cast and worthwhile aspirations, Ava mostly operates as a bewildering misfire.

    In Ava, Jessica Chastain stars as the titular protagonist, a lethal assassin who returns home after a mission goes sideways. In an effort to re-connect with her family (Geena Davis plays her mother while Jess Weixler plays her sister), Ava looks to atone for her eight-year absence by righting the wrongs of her alcoholic past. While she tries to make peace, her contractor Duke (John Malkovich) is being pushed by his protege Simon (Colin Farrell) to take her out of the picture, leaving Ava on a desperate fight for survival.

    From the opening frames, Ava attempts to elevate its familiar action trappings through its character-driven approach. Infusing the typical formula with a sense of weight sounds great on paper, yet Matthew Newton’s screenplay strains itself with futile dramatic aspiration. The character dynamics never feel lived-in, with the script furiously throwing expository dialogue at the screen to compensate for their lackluster development.

    We hear so much about Ava’s rocky history regarding her family and past alcoholism, but the audience is never able to connect to these lingering demons. Chastain does her best to imbue gravitas into the character’s struggles, though her talents can never shake the overwhelming sense of banality. Like a lot of poorly drawn action heroes, she comes off as a cold enigma despite this film’s frequent attempts to humanize her. The side characters, including Ava’s family, her former boyfriend who is now dating her sister (Common is given nothing to do), and her spy associates, are equally underserved by a script that draws concepts without coloring them fully.

    If the drama doesn’t work, what about the action? Somehow these frames are even more inept. Tate Taylor has constructed some strong films (Get on Up is overlooked), yet his transition into genre filmmaking continues to suffer from blandly-coated sterility. Every attempt to punch up the craftsmanship with slick style falls woefully flat, utilizing cliche techniques that create a noticeably cheap aroma (seriously, this felt like a TV pilot airing on CBS). The action scenes are constructed without much care, hacking choppy edits that morph hand-to-hand fights into incoherent eyesores. This pervasive sloppiness is damaged further by a self-serious tonality, which only works to further damages the apparent hiccups onscreen (the only fun comes from a so-bad-its-good fistfight between Colin Farrell and John Malkovich, which features an apparent use of stunt doubles).

    Jessica Chastain stands strong as an action star, but Ava‘s misguided execution lies beneath her abilities.

  • Nomadland: The BRWC Review

    Nomadland: The BRWC Review

    Winner of this year’s Venice Film Festival, Nomadland is the latest naturalistic wonder from The Rider director Chole Zhao. An upcoming auteur, Zhao has already established a distinct vision onscreen, centering on modest tales of modern American lore (she’s also dipping into Marvel tentpoles with her next project The Eternals). In her latest film, Zhao conveys another refined portrait that will surely resonant with Oscar voters. 

    Nomadland follows Fern (Frances McDormand), a widow who has been financially impacted by the Great Recession. In the search for her own sense of home, she embarks on a nomadic journey through the American west in her scantly-supplied van. 

    With Nomadland, Zhao continues to demonstrate her authentic voice behind the camera. Magnifying the plight of disenfranchised Americans lost through the widening wage gap and outsourcing of jobs, the writer/director cleverly employs a cast of non-actors to convey the lingering wounds left behind from the financial crisis. Many of the film’s marquee moments rely on their presence, portraying genuine sentiments centered around the aging nomads’ search for independence and self-actualization amidst their twilight years. Zhao’s embrace of a free-flowing structure allows these tender beats to register with raw, emotional impact. While the non-actors are great, it’s impossible to discuss this film without highlighting Frances McDormand’s awards-worthy turn. The beloved stalwart seamlessly integrates herself into the character while extenuating her understated abilities in full force, fitting this film’s unique sensibility like a glove.

    For a film that boasts quaint pleasures, Nomadland still reflects impressive prowess in its craftsmanship. Cinematographer Joshua James Richards breathes a poetic beauty into Fern’s odyssey, shooting the naturalistic environments with a balanced temperament. Among all of the richly textured locals, Richards and Zhao never forget to portray the harsh realities of this lifestyle, never sugar coating Fern and her peers in a simplistic folksy light. Ludovico Einaudi’s score hits the right notes with its low-key extenuation of dramatic beats, with the film thankfully never grasping for overly-theatrical moments.   

    Nomadland’s glowing reactions are certainly deserved, though there is an unevenness that held the film back for me. The first half truly excels, allowing audiences to marinate with the characters’ trials and tribulations through its uniquely authentic scope. Once the film starts introducing more narrative-heavy frames (David Strathairn plays an old nomad infatuated with Fern), some of the authentic charms dissipate as the screenplay suffers from some stilted frames. While it doesn’t deter Zhao and company from reaching a satisfying conclusion, there’s a sense that the film would’ve been better served by fully-embracing its ingenious core design.

    That being said, Nomadland mines a poetic portrait from its well-textured subjects, showcasing writer/director Chole Zhao as a boundless talent with a bright future in the industry.

  • The Argument: Review

    The Argument: Review

    Coming from director/musician Robert Schwartzman (his score for Palo Alto is wildly overlooked), The Argument is an absurdist comedy that observes common relationship spats through a surrealist lens. While the humorous sparring matches render a few promising moments, the end result is a wishy-washy film that doesn’t engage with the substantive conceits of its premise.

    The Argument follows Jack (Dan Fogler) and Lisa (Emma Bell), a couple three years into their relationship. After Lisa’s performs her first big play, Jack decides to have a gathering to celebrate, inviting his agent/best friend Brett (Danny Pudi) and his stern partner Sarah (Maggie Q). When Lisa’s flirty co-star Paul (Tyler James Williams) shows up with his girlfriend Trina (Cleopatra Coleman), Jack and Lisa have a fight that ruins the entire night. To find out who was right, the two decide to recreate the night the next evening, driving them down a seemingly endless wormhole of situations.

    Pushing its simplistic premise to its zany extremes, The Argument mines some laughs out of its audacious approach. Much of the credit goes to its skilled cast of character actors who sell the bizarre frames with their committed delivery. Maggie Q and Danny Pudi are the standouts of the bunch, with Q’s steely deadpan persona generating uproarious laughs while Pudi throws himself into each gag with reckless abandon (I also loved Nathan Stewart-Jarrett in a surprise third act role). Zac Stanford’s script operates well at its most unhinged, dreaming up a plethora of creative scenarios for the characters to get lost in (Schwartzman’s direction also makes the most out of the film’s single setting approach).

    The Argument’s creative framework shows promise, which makes its middling execution frustrating to endure. Despite bolstering a likable cast (Dan Fogler has been an affable funnyman throughout his career), the characters here are unlikable in a flat manor. There’s no dimension or humanity to define their shallowness, with Stanford’s screenplay lacking a clear direction portraying these characters. There also isn’t enough of a satirical edge to fully condemn them either, leaving audiences in a murky middle ground of mediocrity. I wish Stanford’s script showed more balance in its story structure, saving most of its inventive twist for the conclusion while burying the first two acts with largely repetitive set-up.

    Weak characterization is just the start of the script’s problems, as The Argument presents a vapidness that derails the entire endeavor. One would think the film’s high-concept premise would be a gateway to reflect honest truths about relationships, potentially displaying how petty disagreements can manifest into stark reflections of grander issues. Much of Stanford’s script seemingly ignores this nucleus, settling for a mixed bag of laughs that cant compensate for the film’s overwhelming emptiness. I wish Schwartzman stepped in to guide the screenplay more, as his previous features The Unicorn and Dreamland exemplified a steadier tonal balance this film is desperately missing.

    While promising in its conception, The Argument’s creative spark can’t compensate for its uneven execution.