film reviews, interviews, features | BRWC

Author: Matt Conway

  • The Nest: Review

    The Nest: Review

    Debuting at this year’s Sundance Film Fest, The Nest is writer/director Sean Durkin’s long-awaited follow-up to 2011’s chilling character piece Martha Marcy May Marlene. While that film did not register a sizable impact at the box office, it’s cathartic impact still lingers with audiences today, serving as a breakout for star Elizabeth Olsen. Implementing a similar slow-burn approach, The Nest elicits a thoughtful deconstruction of the family structure through its standout performance work.

    The Nest follows Rory (Jude Law) and Allison (Carrie Coon), a couple happily living in America with their nuclear family unit (Charlie Shotwell plays Benjamin and Oona Rocha plays Samantha, Allison’s daughter from a previous relationship). Their picturesque lifestyle seemingly evaporates when Rory’s ambition drives the family to London, as the move slowly unveils their disconnected dynamics.

    Both Jude Law and Carrie Coon demonstrate their assured abilities with two tantalizing parts. Rory’s smarmy and slick charms are tailor-made for Law’s charismatic delivery, with the actor nestling into the kind of role he’s made a career out of playing (Contagion and Closer come to mind). Thankfully, this film allows Law to explore this persona with proper nuance, masterfully tapping into the shallowness and insecurity that motivates his self-serving actions. Coon provides the emotional anchor as Allison, a discontented housewife trying to maintain a sense of identity despite Rory’s overbearing control. Her voice incrementally grows throughout the duration, leading to tense sparring matches over the couple’s disillusioned lifestyle. These frames pack the film’s marquee moments, featuring two acting heavyweights going toe-to-toe with raw authenticity.

    Despite a decade-long wait, Sean Durkin’s finite ability remains intact. His script and direction work with intimate intricacy, utilizing every frame to steadily build upon the faulty central dynamics. Matyas Erdely’s photography extenuates the simmering dysfunction aptly, conveying the character’s emotionality with a precise and refined hand. I also loved Durkin’s use of the film’s 80’s setting, twisting the pop confectionary tracks of the era into a soundtrack with much more sinister connotations (happy this film also didn’t shove its time period in the audiences face). These elements blend together to form a sound deconstruction of the family’s pristine nucleus image, offering an encompassing commentary on the secluded divide buried underneath familiar ties.

    The Nest mannered presentation packs modest values, although some of its dramatic potential feels somewhat untapped. When the focus is solely on the breakdown of their family unit, the film sings with searing dramatic moments that linger past the closing credits. However, Durkin’s script often gets sidetracked by flat narrative detours that don’t quite strike with resonance (the minutiae of Rory’s office work is overdone considering it’s just a simplistic reflection of the character’s shallow pursuit for wealth). I also felt the film took some time to find comfortable ground, with the first act elongated pace lacking the potency of the final two acts.

    At its best, The Nest mines an intricate portrait of family dysfunction through its stellar performance work.

  • Tenet: Another Review

    Tenet: Another Review

    Christopher Nolan continues to achieve an exceedingly rare feat in Hollywood: directing big-budget films while possessing creative carte blanche. His cerebral auteurist vision has generated several critical and financial darlings, with efforts like Inception, The Dark Knight, and Dunkirk reaching a rare level of success. Nolan’s prosperous run hasn’t been without some passionate detractors, with many leveling fair critiques about his lack of emotionality and aggravating style choices (his booming use of ADR often masks essential dialogue). His latest project Tenet showcases the director pushing his trademarks to their limits, crafting a bombastic blockbuster that thrills, yet leaves something to be desired.

    Describing Tenet through a simple plot synopsis is not an easy feat, but I shall try my best. The film follows the protagonist (John David Washington), a special forces operative who has been recruited to join a mysterious spy operation. Working alongside Neil (Robert Pattinson), the two look to take down Andrei Sator (Kenneth Branagh), a Russian arms dealer harboring a world-threatening device and holding his wife Kat (Elizabeth Debicki) captive. All isn’t quite as it seems though, with the protagonist delving into a mysterious realm of time inversion to save the world outside of real-time.

    Tenet is a fascinating beast, as it complicates itself with an endless loop of mind-bending physics while grounding itself in the familiar trappings of espionage thrillers (the numerous James Bond comparisons are spot-on). The plotting’s mechanical nature will frustrate many, but I found the complexities to be endearing in their over-baked nature. For Nolan, this is his means of enhancing the spy formula, conveying the intrigue and deceit baked into every narrative beat through the ephemeral lens of time inversion. Like a great showman, he keeps the audience on their toes while slowly piecing together the narrative puzzle.

    His showmanship is also on full display with the film’s visceral craftsmanship. Nolan always directs with a certain grandiosity, a presentation choice that feels tailor-made for the film’s globe-trotting narrative (Hoyte Van Hoytema’s cinematographer is opulence to the extreme). Every detail is impeccably constructed, with the slick suits, wide-ranging locals, and hard-hitting setpieces all delivered with the director’s typical panache. The time inversion elements add an inventive wrinkle to the action, showcasing a whirlwind of movement that leaves audiences in awe (several scenes had me in disbelief as to how Nolan pulled them off, especially due to the lack of CGI). I’d be remised to forget Ludwig Goransson’s pulsating techno score, which accents these frames with a liveliness that’s rarely seen in tentpole blockbusters. It’s all a true feat in craftsmanship, with Nolan conducting a masterful concoction of technical elements for audiences to embrace.

    Tenet is as striking as a big-screen spectacle can get, but the issues arise once audiences dig under the surface exterior. John David Washington and Robert Pattinson certainly enhance their roles with a daft charm and suave confidence, yet none of the character work here feels very inspired. Nolan’s screenplay places the crux of the emotional core on Elizabeth Debicki’s character Kat, who works to regain her strength and independence after enduring an abusive relationship. While noble in its intent, Kat ends up being far too inert and simplistic to render an intimate connection with audiences, continuing Nolan’s struggles to write nuanced female characters. It also feels contradictory to the film’s largely cold and procedural nature. I wish the script went all-in with its steely delivery, which could have served as an apt reflection of spy work’s deceitful nature (Michael Mann’s cold delivery and verbose style in Miami Vice and Heat represent their distinct lines of work perfectly).

    I also think Tenet missed the boat on having deeper thematic ruminations. There’s a vague depiction of our Post-911 landscape, as impending threats linger under the surface while governments work vehemently to prevent the unpredictable. Certainly an interesting concept on paper, yet it’s an idea that’s rarely conveyed with depth onscreen, lacking the deft substance of Nolan’s previous endeavors. For a movie that packs several mind-blowing frames and an engaging premise, it’s a shame that Tenet lands with a certain emptiness that restricts it from joining his iconic pantheon.

    Tenet is more of a base single for Christopher Nolan, although even his weakest efforts still provide an exhilarating jolt of blockbuster craftmanship.

  • Bill And Ted Face The Music: The BRWC Review

    Bill And Ted Face The Music: The BRWC Review

    Few lovable losers have endured the test of time like Bill S. Preston Esq. and Theodore Logan. Those are the distinguished titles of the distinctly dopey Bill and Ted, a duo that has transformed into cult figures through their simpleminded SoCal charms. Featuring dedicated performance work from Alex Winter and Keanu Reeves, alongside a plethora of off-kilter gags, both Excellent Adventure and its sequel Bogus Journey have remained beloved comedic staples long past their initial releases. After nearly 30 years of waiting, Bill and Ted are finally back on the big (and small) screen with Bill and Ted Face the Music, a warmly nostalgic revival that captures the property’s earnest charms. 

    Bill and Ted Face the Music follows its titular protagonists, who are now middle-aged parents still trying to create their world-saving song. With the planet hours away from ending, Bill (Alex Winter) and Ted (Keanu Reeves) travel to the future in order to obtain the hit song from themselves, coming face to face with a future that isn’t quite as excellent as they hoped for. While they face their personal demons, their daughters Thea (Samara Weaving) and Billie (Brigette Lundy-Paine) travel back in time to help their dads assemble a historic band. 

    Shaking off any potential rust, Face the Music seamlessly conveys the alluring charms of its predecessors. Both Winters and Reeves have diverged down different career paths since Bogus Journey (Winters is a documentarian while Reeves is a marque action star), yet the duo slip back into their old-school personas with comfortable ease. The new-aged look has only made their slacker delivery more palatable, with the characters befuddling logic and good-hearted nature still generating the same uproarious laughs as before. Considering most modern comedies delineate towards a raunchy tonality, it’s refreshing to watch Bill and Ted’s comedic voice continue to embrace an innocent juvenility.

    As a good sequel should Face the Music brings some welcomed additions to the table. The inclusion of Bill and Ted’s chill daughters Billie and Tea add a fresh perspective for this third entry, with Samara Weaving and Brigette Lundy-Paine recreating Bill and Ted’s distinct mannerisms seamlessly while infusing their own voice into the roles. They are joined by a plethora of colorful new characters that add to the film’s zany comedic energy, including a murderous robot with deeply-seeded insecurities (Barry’s Anthony Carrigan continues to be a scene-stealer in comedic roles) and Kid Cudi who inexplicably explains the complexity of time travel. Screenwriters Chris Matheson and Ed Solomon deserve praise for their ability to capture the tonality and low-key charms of the originals while seamlessly incorporating fresh ideas to screen.

    While the script does reinvigorate its predecessors’ comedic energy, it’s noticeably lacking from a narrative perspective. In an effort to combine Excellent Adventure and Bogus Journey’s premises, the story suffers from a lingering sense of familiarity, lacking the creative spark or oddball plot beats that made the first two beloved staples. Director Dean Parisot’s sterile and flat direction suffers from a similar sense of timidness, with the film ultimately being content to simply play towards diehard fans nostalgia. The lack of ingenuity may limit the film, but it doesn’t mask the laughs and amiable energy that’s on display throughout.

    Bill and Ted Face the Music is a most excellent tribute to the offbeat and infectious energy of its predecessors. If this is the character’s swan song, it’s great to see them walk off on a positive note.

  • The Owners: Review

    The Owners: Review

    The Owners is a boilerplate thriller set amidst the wealthy British countryside. Three friends, Nathan (Ian Kenny), Terry (Andrew Ellis), and the wildcard Gaz (Jake Curran) attempt to rob an elderly home. When Nathan’s girlfriend Mary (Maisie Williams) interrupts their plans, the group decides to change course and confront the elders directly in order to get the safe password. When the Huggins return, a cat-and-mouse game ensues between the two sides as the old pair reveal some tricks up their sleeve.

    While fairly straightforward in conception, The Owners tries to delicately twist its home invasion formula by playing against the audience’s expectations. Unfortunately for writers Julius Berg and Mathieu Gompel, their so-called twist can be seen coming from miles away, leaving audiences with a fairly commonplace genre diversion.

    Under the banality, The Owners does establish a base level of competency. Julius Berg’s big-screen directorial debut displays some well-constructed chills, with the director injecting a stylistic flair to spice up familiar trappings. Not all the choices add to the narrative (an aspect ratio change in the third act lacks substance), but they do enhance the uneasy thrills while keeping audiences on their toes.

    Berg’s assured cast also hold their own, with Maisie Williams continuing to display her natural ability as the film’s semi-lead. Veteran character actors Rita Tushingham and Sylvester McCoy make the biggest impression though, infusing the Higgins’ geriatric state with some sinister undertones.

    There are glimmers of sweaty tension lingering throughout, yet The Owners sinks under the weight of its conceptual promise. The script becomes too self-satisfied with its simplistic approach, offering little depth to enhance the one-note character work and stale narrative.

    There’s no thematic throughline to connect the underbaked elements, as the film simply offers nastiness without purpose and entertainment value. Considering films like Don’t Breathe have already taken this set-up and expanded upon its conventions, it isn’t enough for a film like this to simply go through the motions.

    Closing on a gotcha ending that will leave most shrugging, The Owners rarely distinguishes itself from its genre counterparts.

  • The New Mutants: The BRWC Review

    The New Mutants: The BRWC Review

    Fox’s run helming the X-Men franchise will always be regarded for its trailblazing origins, as the 2000 hit original opened the door for our superhero-obsessed culture. Outside of that, their tenure has been stigmatized by a rocky track record, with megahits like Logan and Deadpool being far rarer than the flops (Dark Phoenix) and poor decisions (bringing back Bryan Singer) that marred the franchise. Fox’s X-Men swan song The New Mutants, which has been delayed for over two years, is now seeing the light of day with an unceremonious release. Despite the circumstances, this genre-hybrid registers a promising, albeit slight, impression through its coming of age approach.

    The New Mutants follows Danielle Moonstar (Blu Hunt), a traumatized teen who is captured and contained in a secret facility under the suspicion of wielding mutant powers. Along with four other mutants, the brash Illyana (Anya Taylor-Joy), the religiously-repressed Rahne (Maise Williams), and the tortured duo Sam (Charlie Heaton) and Roberto (Henry Zaga), the five bond while trying to escape from their wicked captor Dr. Reyes (Alice Braga).

    In a time where most superhero films adhere to a crowd-pleasing formula, New Mutants brazenly develops its own voice in the subgenre. Writer/director Josh Boone and co-writer Knate Lee encapsulates a melody of intriguing inspirations into their final product, including shadings of Nightmare on Elm Street’s dream-like horrors, The Breakfast Club’s misfit adolescent protagonists, and Girl, Interrupted‘s confrontation of emotional traumas. That may sound like a murky concoction at first glance, but Boone and Lee deserve ample credit for weaving the tonalities together fairly seamlessly.

    Their film is at its best when it operates with a sensitive light, allowing these damaged teens to intimately explore their sense of self as they wrestle with their powers and lingering emotional pains. Most X-Men films have steeped themselves in the material’s allegorical connection to societal outcasts, but New Mutants embraces the metaphor with more panache than most of its predecessors. The script embodies a plethora of commonplace teenage growing pains in its effort to earnestly convey adolescent experiences (personal discovery and self-acceptance being key ideals), unabashedly allowing its characters to be emotive and flawed in a way that most super-powered protagonists rarely are. Some of the performances operate well under these conditions. Leads Blu Hunt and Maise Williams develop a natural bond as a romantically-entwined pair, while Anya Taylor-Joy conveys the character’s cocksure attitude with depth and movie star charisma.

    Under all the angst, Boone still delivers some technically accomplished thrills. New Mutants possesses a more significant horror sensibility than an action one, using its solid effects work to viscerally convey the character’s demons. Set against the backdrop of a sterile medical facility that operates to confuse and suppress the teens (the teens think they are training to be X-Men), Boone uses the horror beats to create a lingering sense of unease throughout. These sequences work to twist the character’s viewpoint of their powers and sense of self, placing them face to face with the untamed dangers of their abilities. It may get a little jump scare happy at times, but I appreciate Boone’s effort to connect his horror bend to the character’s internal turmoil. This choice gives the scares more of an impact while offering a fresh change-of-pace to the superhero formula.

    The New Mutants has a lot of engaging elements, yet it’s clear all these facets need more refinement. Boone takes big swings that are often hampered by a sense of clumsiness, often struggling to thread his character-building ambitions with clunky over-written dialogue that lacks naturalism (a couple of cringe-worthy jokes based on Danielle’s race leave a bad aftertaste). Some of the teens here are well-established, while others (particularly Roberto and Samuel) feel paper-thin and lack purpose. There are also some visual hiccups that derail the moody aesthetic, particularly the over-dim color grading that can make setpieces far more confusing to watch. I can’t blame people for dismissing this film, it’s certainly a mess that takes a lot of risks that don’t fully render as they should.

    The New Mutants may be a mess, but it’s an endearing one at that. Josh Boone ties enough thoughtful concepts together to compensate for the film’s unkempt qualities.