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Category: REVIEWS

Here is where you would find our film reviews on BRWC.  We look at on trailers, shorts, indies and mainstream.  We love movies!

  • 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.

  • 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.

  • I Am Woman: Review

    I Am Woman: Review

    In 1966 Helen Reddy (Tilda Cobham-Hervey) takes the daunting first steps towards her historic career. With what is perhaps a blissful ignorance or otherwise an unduly trusting nature she waltzes into a music executives office believing she is the recipient of the chance to record. Possibly such an offer was laid out at some point, but it is not in the nature of the music business to throw bones to struggling artists and as such, daughter Matilda in tow, Helen leaves the office jobless and alone in New York. 

    She goes through many more highs and lows before writing the unofficial anthem of the woman’s liberation movement, I Am Woman, after which the film takes its name. The most important of those highs is her meeting of the man who gets her where she needs to be to shine, her second husband, Jeff Wald (Evan Peters). The film is just as much his at it is Helen’s and the audacious and charismatic Wald soaks up every minute of the limelight. They meet when he gatecrashes her birthday party and soon enough after they are on their way to California where he dreams of representing movie stars and she dreams of making an album. It is here in the Golden State, far removed from the squalor she found herself performing for in New York, that Helen Reddy truly becomes a star. 

    As she elevates to stardom, it gets more and more difficult not to wish this film had come out maybe three years earlier. Before Bohemian Rhapsody had hampered the music biopic so carelessly and before Rocket Man had shown us how to do it properly. In those days I Am Woman would soar as a perfectly reasonable and empowering film, but unfortunately, that is not the case. Instead, watching this in 2020 only highlights the worst tendencies of biographical film making, particularly of musicians. These films feel the need to get by on haphazard normalcy as if showing everything to be stock standard drama is enough to get by. When directors do this, they often include set pieces to add some vigour and give a reason to stay, and this is no different. 

    The performance of the titular song is Unjoo Moon’s selected set-piece and when it comes around the film takes on an entirely different aura for a few moments. So powerful and infectious is Reddy’s song that not only does it overcome the, unfortunately obvious, lip sync, but it also becomes indelible. Cobham-Harvey looks every bit of the part has she mimics the performance and the way she is shot, in both the first and second performances, is impeccable. 

    In fact, throughout the entire film, only one thing remains steadfast, the fantastic work of Dion Beebe, the cinematographer. So brilliant and modern is his work that it almost becomes incongruous to the period and otherwise general straightforwardness of the film. The strength of last years fantastic Judy was that it was a deeply personal film, and despite the attempts for this to be the same it simply isn’t. One moment there will be a spectacular use of Steadicam that promises a deeper glimpse into this impressive figure only to be followed by a scene taken straight from Walk the Line, it’s dreadfully uneven and reeks of having already been done.

    The story remains interesting enough, the familiarity of it can’t be helped in this aspect because if this is what happened, then this is what happened, or is at least some form of it. The performances too are praiseworthy. Her work here could well be Cobham-Harvey’s step into fame should the right people see it and Peters has begun his journey out of his beloved Quicksilver’s shadow. They will both go on to bigger and better things, hopefully in the near future. 

    As time passes through the slightly overlong 116-minute runtime, the film never delves into dire failure, nor does it even come close, it is more that it makes so little of an impact. Eventually the song I Am Woman becomes a crutch for its namesake film and attempts to carry it upon its back. Every moment that isn’t performance just plays it too safe and it compounds into the realisation that there is a great film to be made here, this just isn’t it.

    I Am Woman is heartfelt and well-meaning in its approach. However, it is far too uncomplicated and direct to inspire any of the feelings Helen Reddy’s powerful music does and instead leaves you begging for any sign of risk or vulnerability.