★★
“Ashes to asses.”
I will say, I did actually enjoy this rather more than the rating above indicates. For pure entertainment value, it’s a 3 to 3½-star entity, when watched as a brutal parody of new feminism. The problem is, I don’t think those involved with it were making a parody. As a serious statement about gender, it’s almost impossible to take seriously. Alexandra Nelson (Cotter) is at the end of her tether, when she gets a call that her long-estranged mother is dying. Driving home to pick up the body, she finds it being hustled out the back of the crematorium. Turns out to be part of an organ harvesting scheme, run by the local crime bosses. This gives Alex something to live for, and she begins a one-woman campaign to take down the perpetrators. But that’s a mission which will drag in her estranged sister, bikini barista Jenny (Gately), into peril as Alex’s targets respond to her actions.
There’s a decent idea here, and in stuntwoman Cotter, a lead actress capable of delivering the necessary brutality. The action is pretty good, with an impact in excess of the usual low-budget entries. The problem is a genuinely terrible script, with Alex going from suicidal to unstoppable avenging angel at the drop of a mother she hasn’t talked to in years. It also needs more background for her remarkable ass-kicking than a spell in basic training, in order to justify the ease with which she takes down multiple opponents, close to double her weight. But then, if they’d done that, then Alex’s lifetime Gold Level membership in the Victim Club would have been jeopardized; why submit to the patriarchy in every avenue of life, when you could just have beaten it up? Because the story needs her to be both victim and victor – an awkward contradiction it fails miserably to address. Though even this could have been worked around, if she’d let her actions do the talking.
However, Alex is a mouthy bitch, to put it mildly. No fight is complete, unless preceded by a lengthy debate with her male target, which inevitably ends in them getting angry at her speaking “truth to power”. All the men in this are sexist pigs. Every. Single. One. Even the toddler, or the random guy passing her car on the freeway. It’s a ludicrously shallow approach, which you know will be lacking in nuance from the moment someone unironically uses the word “libtard.” After repeated comparisons of guns to penises, hysterical laughter is the only credible reaction when Alex comes out with arguably the most supremely cheesy pseudo-feminist line of all time, snarling, “Anything you can do, I can do bleeding”. I’m sure there are viewers, likely those who live on Twitter and Reddit, who might believe this to be a documentary. Anyone with an ounce of sense though, may well wonder how much its heroine’s obvious hair-trigger caused, rather than solve, her many issues.
Dir: Brady Hall
Star: Elizabeth Cotter, Emily Gateley, Ryan Postell, Elena Flory-Barnes


I went into this preparing to hate it. There had been red flags all over the place, such as star and producer Chastain coming out with comments about her movie like, “It’s very important for society. We’ve moved against the status quo, and we’re creating our own narrative for it. The film is, in some sense, a political act.” Uh-oh. No film is
I guess this shows that the concept of the “mockbuster” is not something invented by The Asylum. This came out in 1978, the year after 
There’s a decent idea here, and an attempt to add some new wrinkles to that old reliable, the rape-revenge genre. Unfortunately, there are too many problems and missteps to make this a worthwhile entry. Violet (Winkler) is an aspiring actress, whose dreams are shattered when she falls for a fake audition. She is lured into a basement, raped, and the resulting footage posted on a highly-dubious website. She’s clearly broken by the trauma, to the increasing worry of her mother (Burns). But hope is present in her growing relationship with Josh (Crowe), a young man she met at the lake where Violet likes to sit, trying to find some measure of peace. However, how will he react when he finds out about her other life, in which she is making those responsible for the assault, pay.
I am old enough to remember when Suvari was playing jailbait in American Beauty. It is therefore a bit disturbing to find her here, taking on the role of the mother of a seventeen-year-old daughter. Where has the time gone? But then, it has now been approaching 23 years since Beauty came out. This realization is probably more chilling than anything this technically competent, but almost entirely lacklustre thriller is able to deliver. It starts off with an interesting premise, and even has some not commonly-seen elements in its heroine. But the longer this goes on, the more it feels rote and by the numbers, without enough to differentiate it from other, better entries in the (more or less) Die Hard knock-off sub-genre.
Firstly, I’m not quite sure whether this is a movie or not. The IMDb lists it with a running time of 98 minutes, but Tubi had it as 4 x 25-minute episodes. I’m guessing the former is just a compilation of the latter, it works about the same either way. The title translates as “The way of the empty hand”, and the emphasis here is very much on the first part: the journey. The heroine is Nicki Wright (G. Niebauer), who has barely got out of rehab for alcohol problems, when she gets involved in a brawl, after seeing a woman being assaulted by a man. Her mother had had enough of dealing with Nicki’s taciturn BS, and dumps her on her father, Cliff (D. Niebauer).
This likely suffered, having been watched the day after Boyka: Unleashed which, while not an action heroine film by any stretch of the imagination, is a near-perfect demonstration of how brutal, no-holds barred fights
Bea is living a quiet life, far out in the Wyoming countryside, with her husband Justin and young son, Bear. However, this isolation is an entirely deliberate choice in order to escape from her past. For in her previous life, she was Phoenix Romano, an enforcer and hit-woman for her mob boss father. After deciding she’d had enough of that life, she liberated several millions of his money, and vanished, hoping never to be found again. Naturally, things don’t quite work out like that. Justin and Bear are killed in a car crash, but Phoenix has reason to suspect it wasn’t an accident, and that instead her past life is catching up with her. But why did whoever was responsible for that go after her family, and leave her alive?