Category: REVIEWS

Candy Corn is set in a place that only exists in films: a small, backwoods American town with seemingly no children but chock full of adults who every year go mad for Halloween.

Like its characters, the film – written, produced and directed by Josh Hasty – has a deep love for the holiday and all things horror, to the extent of including plenty nods to classic films like Halloween, Scream and the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

If that wasn’t enough, it also includes cameos from some notable horror alumni, including Halloween’s PJ Soles (Here playing Marcy Taylor) and Candyman himself, Tony Todd (As Bishop Gate).

However, this points to an unfortunate truth that there isn’t much in Candy Corn that’s unique to itself – the moments that are key to any horror film feel, the scares, here feel particularly devoid of originality, and as a result aren’t as scary as they should be.

What’s more, the films which serve as its inspiration (mentioned above) remain memorable because they kept up the pace and tension, making the action exciting. Whereas Candy Corn is kept at such a slow pace, you can end up feeling impatient for the deaths to happen.

Back to the film, and Halloween is the time for an annual tradition of three characters, one that dates back to their childhoods – the bullying of local boy Jacob Atkins (Nate Chaney). He is a young adult seemingly with developmental problems, as he never speaks and lives alone in an old shack, though has a trendy haircut.

The night of the thirtieth he is about to join up with a travelling carnival that has arrived in the town, when he ambushed by the bullies, who accidentally kill him after kicking him a bit.

Fortunately, the carnival barker (Pancho Moler) happens to be into occult magic, and uses an ancient spell to bring Jacob back to life. Now resurrected and wearing a grotesque latex mask, he sets about picking off his killers one by one.

On this trail of these murders is Sheriff Sam Bramford (Courtney Gains, also the producer), the unknowing father of one of Jacob’s killers. At the same time, having witnessed Jacob’s death at the hands of her boyfriend, Carol (Madison Russ) is distraught and feels the need to tell the sheriff what she saw, though she is afraid to come forward as she fears the repercussions.

This is an interesting and realistic character dilemma, but while it would have been intriguing to develop it a little, it’s only a small part of the film and is quickly left the by the wayside. The film can’t make up its mind about Carol in particular – first she is used as the voice of reason before being turned into a bombshell.

It’s not the only lax bit of writing here, either, the characters all sound the same and have a single trait, at most. At the end, it tries to resolve the script’s larger plot elements, but in trying to do so ends up making a lot less sense.

In the end, Candy Corn is not a bad film – it’s well made and everyone involved give it their all, but that’s all trapped by a stale script and an inability to provide any real scary moments. Those who have a big an obsession for Halloween as the film does may get the most satisfaction from it, but it doesn’t do enough for those less fluent in horror.

Not to be confused with Netflix’s Beats that also released this year, Brian Welsh’s new film is a celebration of 1990s rave culture, marked by the end of an era amid the passing of the Criminal Justice and Public Order Act and the imminent rise of Tony Blair’s New Labour.

What once seemed to the working class of Britain to be a promising future has since been unmasked as nothing but rebranded Thatcherism, making our characters’ plight to ‘fight against the system’ ironically accurate and timely, and ensuring the film’s narrative more relevance than perhaps anybody thought at the time. Beats’ themes are about far more than the music.

Adapted from a one-man stage show by Kieran Hurley, Welsh has expanded the story to show how this impacted the entire culture, not just the two friends at the heart of it. He’s said ‘there was something universal about the story, but also quite culturally specific, and also very specific to the place that I grew up in’, adding that he wanted the film ‘to be a celebration of a particular moment and of an energy behind that scene.’

The film is effective because, above all else, it is a story about friendship. Johnno and Spanner couldn’t be more different, and Johnno’s imminent move away is only going to drift them further apart, but they are bonded simply by a shared love of music. It brings them together, and the film details the risks they’ll go through just to have that one last incredible rave. Their friendship beautifully demonstrates the bond that ties this entire culture together; the bond that will ensure rave culture may evolve, but will never truly die.

Much like its characters, the film relies on its soundtrack to push it along and bring it to life. Sadly, the music is nowhere near as impactful as Walsh clearly thinks. Every character in the film’s much-hyped rave is on some kind of pill, and one can’t help but feel the beats lose a lot of their effect when sitting sober on an average morning. Shot in gorgeous black-and-white with Trainspotting-esque grit, the film is paying tribute to an era that, honestly, plays out to music that is very much of its time. 

The film unquestionably has some unnecessary plot contrivances, too, and it’s not making the grand statement on the arts it thinks it is, but it overcomes its flaws with a story that will resonate with all. This is a film about both endings and beginnings; growing up and moving on. It’s a story about those important people in our youth whom we thought we’d know forever, but now politely nod to when we pass them in the street. Dramatic, funny and moving, Beats is a film based in one specific moment, telling a story that will touch many more. 

The Farewell: The BRWC Review. They are rare, but the moments in a cinema where you have such confidence and love for a film that you hand over your emotions then and there, in your first viewing, those moments are the best. Lulu Wang’s second feature The Farewell is one of those experiences, and one of the years finest films as a result.

The Farewell opens with the text “Based on a true lie”, the lie being from a family to their elderly matriarch Nai Nai (Shuzhen Zhao). The family have found out that Nai Nai is dying of lung cancer and have decided not to tell her, opting instead to stage a fake wedding to bring all her relatives back together in China to aptly say farewell. This all stretches from a Chinese belief which the film loosely presents as, “It’s not the cancer that kills, it’s the fear”.

The path we’re led down is a heartbreaking one that displays the impact people have on each others lives, especially family. We follow Billi (Awkwafina) who left China when she was 6 and has only sparingly seen her grandmother ever since but always remained in contact. Her family thought it would be best for Billi to not come to the wedding as she wouldn’t be able to maintain the lie, but Billi had so much love for her grandmother that she simply had to come and find the bravery to hide her emotions. When we emerge in China, we are confronted by a family unit which simultaneously regrets and embraces their decision to hide the truth. This emotional complexity is why The Farewell is as evocative as it is, the family drama is something audiences are no strangers to, but in this context, it’s like a whole new sub-genre.

Above all else, The Farewell is a story that deserves telling, not only that; it is a story that had to be told. The world is a better place with this film existing within it. Countless films endeavour to capture love and put it on display but only a precious few manage to say something brand new on the topic, and the tragic beauty of The Farewell does that and so much more. There are scenes where you will laugh and cry within mere seconds of its rollercoaster ride. The best example of this is the absurdity of the fake wedding that in every aspect is real to Nai Nai. Her grandson Hao Hao (Han Chen) is posing to marry his girlfriend of only three months Aiko (Aoi Mizuhara), both are very young and find themselves awkwardly having to keep up the façade, resulting in plenty of hilarious moments. Yet all Nai Nai’s children at the wedding know the truth, and it weighs heavily upon them. All this is balanced masterfully, and that is thanks to one person above all others.

Lulu Wang is a born emotional puppet master. She weaves her biopic with such a delicate yet engrossing hand that it is difficult to believe this is only her second feature film. She is a filmmaker with such an eye for the simplicities of life that they come off as grandeur and sublime, but never lose their charm. From an American laundromat to the streets of China, Wang manages to stamp her name on everything on the other side of the lens. With the script, she has also created something so much more than what you would assume. There is an element that focuses on the logistics of moving from China to live or study in America. This element evolves into a discourse on how we should view our home even when we know our home has issues. And in an even greater testament to her mastery, this element fits in perfectly with the family-based waterworks, and it manages to convey an essential truth in the process. Lulu Wang has captured the hearts and souls of so many with her movie, and whatever’s next, a lot of them will come to listen, and I’m excited for whatever that may be.

The ensemble is the years best to date from what I’ve managed to see so far. Awkwafina firms her stardom with her career-best work here and it’s almost impossible to describe how adorable Shuzhen Zhao is as her grandmother. She carries herself with all the composure of the veteran actor she is and makes the transition to the western style seamlessly. A supporting actress Oscar nomination is the only way Hollywood can properly honour what she achieved here, and I hope they do because she more than deserves it. Together they form an irresistibly endearing pair that become the basis of every tug of the heartstrings. Every other member of the family nails their roles to perfection too. With Billi’s parents Haiyan and Lu Jian, played by Tzi Ma and Diana Lin respectively, being two more standouts as they further the emotional depth of this film to a whole new level as they come to terms with lying to a parent.

The Farewell is a heartfelt ode to the complexities of family relationships. Lulu Wang has developed into a filmmaker of great merit after only two films, and that is a staggering achievement. If you are fortunate enough to have a grandmother still, you will want to give her a call the second you walk out of the theatre, and that’s how you’ll know you have just seen something special.