Category: Review

Bad Girls

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★½
“Faster, Pussycat! Dull! Dull!”

I didn’t realize until this started, it was by the director of the (non-GWG) The Theta Girl, which was a self-indulgent and flawed, yet ultimately not worthless, drug-trip revenge flick, made for no budget and with obvious passion. This is more of the same, yet wears out its welcome considerably quicker. It doesn’t feel as if Bickel has learned anything of relevance from making his previous effort. It may be more technically flash (not quite the same thing as “proficient”, you should note), yet he seems to have learned nothing about narrative. The film here unfolds at two speeds: dead slow and utterly manic. If this was a person at a party, you’d quietly sidle away from them.

It begins in the latter mode, with three strippers led by Val (Renew) robbing their club, and going on a crime spree, leaving a trail of dead bodies in their wake. Their goals are vague, partly heading to Mexico (the part of Mexico is played by South Carolina roadside attraction, South of the Border), and partly kidnapping each lady’s favourite rock stars, who conveniently mostly happen to be playing shows that night in the same area. Throw in a random hotel clerk, and you have a six-pack of characters, sitting around in motel rooms and cars, revealing their innermost secrets and taking quite a few illicit pharmaceutical, as the largely unlikable authorities close the net on them.

I think I greatly preferred it when Val and her gal pals were killing people. The first 5-10 minutes of this are insane, a genuine assault on the low-fi senses that positively burns the retinas. You have to wonder how Bickel could possibly keep up the level of manic energy, and to some extent, it’s probably a good thing he doesn’t, or your television would probably melt from the raw heat. However, there’s almost nothing offered in its place, in terms of plot or character development, until the final few minutes, where the police finally track the trio down and launch an assault, which is resisted with all the fire-power available. It’ll certainly wake you up if you dozed off: something which I will neither confirm nor deny happened to me.

At points, it feels as if this is intent mostly on checking off a list of film influences, most obviously Russ Meyer and Jack Hill. Though it’s largely superficial i.e. for a supposed trio of strippers, they really don’t show a lot of skin, and might as well have been secretaries. Or nuns. [Hmm. I have an idea for a movie] As with Theta, Bickel deserves credit for simply making his own damn movie. I just hope the next one actually is his own. For rather than a homage to classic exploitation movies of the sixties and seventies, this plays as a third-generation VHS copy of them, and you will be considerably better off sticking to the original inspirations.

Dir: Christopher Bickel
Star: Morgan Shaley Renew, Senethia Dresch, Shelby Lois Guinn, Cleveland Langdale

In the Forest

  By

★★
“Once more: why we don’t camp.”

Three generations of a family take a trip into the woods in their mobile home. There’s grandfather Stan (Ward), his somewhat neurotic daughter Helen (Ayer), whose life has been falling apart around her, and Helen’s teenage daughter, Emily (Spruell), for whom a weekend in a forest with old people is just how she wants to spend her time. After finding a spot, they’re ordered off by a surly local with a shotgun. Except, mechanical and medical misadventures get them stuck. Helen heads off to find help, only to stumble across the home of the surly local, who is apparently involved in keeping teenage boy Andrew (Odette) locked up in a room. Andrew begs Helen for help, saying his sister is in the basement. Then his Mom shows up.

It’s not a terrible idea, pitting an urban family against a rural one, with the former being forced out of their comfort zone for the sake of raw survival. The problems here are all in the execution. Part of it is the split focus, with the film’s attention divided between the various plights of Helen and Emily. The former, in particular, seems to spend half the film chained to a crate, and the other half running frantically around the forest. The latter, meanwhile, is mostly in and around the motor-home, where she is paid visits by more or less threatening members of the local clan, and has to fend them off.

This could also have been fun had there been a little more ambivalence over who, exactly, are the psychos. That’s especially the case since Andrew definitely seems to have fallen not far from his tree, yet both mother and daughter seem remarkably willing to take everything he says at face value. Instead, there’s precious little subtlety here: for just about everyone, what you see in the first couple of moments defines their character the rest of the way. Some of the plotting could definitely have been improved, such as when the captive Helen breaks a pole out of closet and starts attacking the wall to the next room. While this does eventually lead to her escape, it seems more by chance than a plan.

Matters do improve somewhat when the family (or the surviving members, anyway) are re-united, and have to take on the matriarch, who is none too pleased at the chaos and dysfunction they have brought to her home. Things get distinctly down and dirty, the three women going at each other with weapons both conventional (gun), improvised (shovel) and downright unconventional (the stake from a garden fence). Yet, if this is when the movie is at its most fun and is also the level of no-holds barred insanity I was hoping it would deliver, it’s a climax which feels wildly out of character compared to what had gone before. This film spent time with the family as they baited hooks and went fishing. The jump to them shanking people, prison-style, is too far a gap to bridge.

Dir: Hector Barron
Star: Debbon Ayer, Cristina Spruell, Lyman Ward, Matthew Thomas Odette

Maid of Baikal, by Preston Fleming

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Literary rating: ★★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆½

I have always been intrigued by alternate histories. These are bits of speculative fiction, which are based on a “What if…?” premise. For example, what if Napoleon had won the Battle of Waterloo? Or what if John F. Kennedy’s assassination had failed? Creators speculate on the way the world might have changed, in ways big and small. I find such creations endlessly fascinating, giving me a strong suspicion that, at certain points, history teeters on a razor’s edge, where a seemingly insignificant event can have an impact far beyond its scale. Here, it’s a single person who changes the course of history. For what might have happened, had Joan of Arc turned up, not in medieval France, but in Russia, during the aftermath of the 1917 revolution?

Naturally, it’s not Joan per se. But it’s still a teenage girl, Zhanna Dorokhina, guided by “voices” from God, who becomes a rallying point for one side in the battle between the Bolshevik revolutionary, and their opponents, the White Russians. She has an almost miraculous ability both to divine the correct tactics, and also avoid fatal injury, even as she rides into the thick of battle. Yet in so doing, she becomes a target for the opposition, who plot to get rid of her, by whatever means are necessary. The White Russians are supported with resources from a number of Western nations, and the story is told through the eyes of Captain Edmund du Pont, an American who is helping set up and manage a wireless network when he encounters Zhanna. Initially attracted to her, he eventually is convinced by her righteous passion for her cause. 

It is very much taking the elements of Joan’s story, and transplanting them to Russia in 1918-19. There is the same initial struggle to be taken seriously, working her way up the chain of command. Then her growing army of followers, snowballing into success after success. Just as inevitably, if you’re familiar with her French predecessor, is her betrayal, capture by the enemy, and – I trust this is not a spoiler – tragic death, before her mission from God can be fully completed. Yet Fleming does a generally good job of weaving these into the established historical narrative, so they feel an organic whole.

If I had to pick a flaw, it might be that the film spends to much time with Captain du Pont. I would have preferred more about the Maid, rather than his romantic entanglements. However, this does give a sense of observing history, rather than being part of it. As such, perhaps the most effective part is the epilogue, which looks back over events of the 15 years since the White Russians took Moscow. Which, as even casual observers should know, is not quite how things unfolded in reality. Though it appears, the Maid only delayed, and perhaps slightly changed the flavour of, the dictatorship which ended up ruling the country.

Author: Preston Fleming
Publisher: PF Publishing, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book.
Stand-alone novel.

Eight Strikes of the Wildcat

  By

★★★
“Pussy Riot.”

I guess this is, at its heart, about the quest for a treasure map that has been torn into two pieces. Though you could be forgiven for not really noticing, as most of the cast seem to forget about it for the bulk of the running time. The heroine is Shao Wa (Chi), whose father is killed by the Three Rats in their quest for the map. She ends up being punted off a cliff and presumed dead by them. Naturally – it’d be a short movie otherwise – she’s not as dead as they think. She’s rescued by the inevitable kung-fu master and his annoying sidekick, Lee Ta Fa (Hung), who nurse her back to health, and give her the skills necessary to beat the Three Rats.

The clue there is in their name, for their martial arts are all rodent-inspired. This being a seventies Taiwanese flick,  means all their movies are accompanied by a dubbed-in soundtrack of squeaking. Literally, every move they make, sounds as if they are breaking in a new pair of loafers. Their big move involves all three of them forming a mouse, with one the head, the next the body and the third the hindquarters and tail. It’s every bit as loony as it sounds. You should probably have worked out from the title how Shao Wa is going to counter them: and, yes, this means her moves are accompanied by caterwauling. For variety, she also does “beauty kung-fu,” which seems to involve a lot of pouting.

There are a lot of training montages in this one, though I minded less than I generally would, because they’re quite entertaining in their own right. Chi, who doesn’t appear to have made any other movies, is clearly flexible and gymnastic, and some of the stuff she pulls off is genuinely impressive [I mean, I regard getting out of bed in the morning as an achievement], such as the splits onto a trapeze. I suspect there could have been wire-assistance involved there, yet enough of the other stuff she does clearly was her, to make it plausible. It’s hard to tell under the dubbing whether her acting is any good, though that’s more a bonus than a requirement.

Eventually, the Three Rats kill her master, and Shao Wa goes after them, accompanied by the almost entirely useless Lee, whose contribution to that point is roughly split 50/50 between unhelpful remarks and sexual harassment. When it comes to the final fight between Shao Wa and the Three Rats, he’s more of a colour commentator than anything effective. It’s one of the few cases I can think of where the last battle is a one vs. many, with the heroine being the one. Like the rest of Shao Wa’s fights, it is a little too obviously staged, yet is a decent effort. It would probably have been at least 25% better without the sound effects, however. It’s definitely an area where less would have been more.

Dir: Yi-Hsiu Lin
Star: Dan Dan Chi, Li Tao Hung, Hung Tsai, Tao-Hung Lee

See For Me

  By

★★★
“Wait Until After Dark”

Yeah, as the above might suggest, this owes a rather large debt to Wait Until Dark, with its central theme of an attractive, blind protagonist threatened by home invaders. It is not the first to have gone down that road (see also In Darkness), and I must say, the concepts here are considerably more contrived. However, the film does just about enough to sell them, to make for an entertaining end product. The heroine Sophie (Davenport) was a promising skier until a degenerative eye condition ended her career, leaving her almost totally blind. Now, she’s rather grumpy, frequently berating her mother (Brown), and picking up occasional house-sitting gigs, engaging in small-scale larceny against her employers to fatten the paycheck. 

Her latest such position turns unpleasant when a trio of thugs, under the direction of Rico (Coates), enter the house, seeking a large stash of cash hidden behind a panel. They are as surprised by Sophie’s presence, as she is by theirs. You’d think this would be a quick, one-sided struggle. But Sophie has an ally, in the form of the titular app. It connects her with a seeing helper, typically for assistance with humdrum daily tasks, and the helper in this case is former army member Kelly (Kennedy). Between her military training and fondness for first-person shooters, she knows a thing or two about creeping stealthily around a house, and taking out enemy targets – skills she’s happy to use to assist Sophie. 

What’s at least somewhat interesting, is that Davenport is legally blind. This seems an ongoing trend. While it makes sense, considering Hollywood’s recent obsession with “authenticity” in things like gender identity, I’m always reminded of the famous story about Dustin Hoffman and Lawrence Olivier from Marathon Man – “Why don’t you just try acting?” It’s also notable that she’s not your typical heroine. Indeed, she arguably borders on the unlikable, between her abrasive attitude and petty thievery. Though some other reviews I’ve read suggest that severely weakens the film, I can’t say I minded too much. My bigger concern was a plot that teetered almost forever on the edge of implausibility, e.g. the way Sophie’s phone battery went from 20% to zero in a couple of minutes. While there was nothing utterly outrageous, all these micro-implausibilities added up over the course of proceedings. 

Within those constraints the film still had some successes. The best sequence probably had a police officer show up, with Sophie trying desperately to get the cop to go away. This screwed the tension level up considerably, with the officer insisting there was more going on than Sophie would admit. Thereafter, it does degenerate somewhat into lots of creeping around dark corridors. Or, at least, the level of dark corridors movies tend to have, which are just enough well-lit for a camera, and thus the audience. If the ending abandons the film’s titular concept, and probably provides the cherry of implausibility, the cake as a whole remains adequately edible. 

Dir: Randall Okita
Star: Skyler Davenport, Jessica Parker Kennedy, Kim Coates, Natalie Brown

A Serial Killer’s Guide to Life

  By

★★½
“Too politely British for its own good.”

Lou Farnt (Brayben) is stuck in her life, with a dead-end job, no apparent friends to speak of, and still living with her domineering mother (Ball). She seeks escape from one self-help guru after another, spending her money on their books, DVDs and audio-tapes, though with little or no apparent positive results. Then, she meets the unconventional Val Stone (Roe), who lives in a seaside caravan and promises to change Lou’s life forever. After some qualms, she agrees to depart with Lou, who does indeed deliver on her promise. For, as the title suggests, Val is a psychotic if smart killer, who is specifically targetting those same gurus. Either she regards them as a curse on humanity with their vapid schemes, or she simply wants to dispose of the competition.

It seems clear that writer-director Roe holds a strong, likely personal grudge against self-help tutors, in order to create a movie which is largely based on showing their flaws, and then killing them off. This isn’t a cause I particularly care about: if not my cup of tea, I’m sure some people find them helpful. So this naturally limited my buy-in to the concept here. Kill off social media “influencers,” reality TV celebrities or Los Angeles Dodgers fans, and I’d be right there with you. Motivational speakers? Meh. It is somewhat amusing how naive Lou is, in regard to Val’s extra-curricular activities, and how long it takes her to realize she is taking life advice from a psychopath.

When she does, her reaction is little more than a shrug, admitting it feels quite empowering to kill. The movie really needs to buy into this concept considerably further, rather than gently nodding its head. The likes of Killing Eve have shown even we British can engage in a gleeful embrace of the darker side of things. The script here is simply too gentle for the subject matter, not least with much of the violence happening off-screen. We never get much insight into what makes it particularly empowering, since there’s no sense of catharsis for Lou. These aren’t people who have wronged her in any way, more than the most superficial. Unless “being annoying” is a capital crime? In which case a lot of people are in trouble…

I enjoyed Roe’s performance, which does have much of the same failure to give a damn as Villanelle in Eve. But how much you get out of it may depend on two things. Firstly, how long you see the end twist coming before it’s announced. Note: not if, when. For it’s one that most viewers will see coming, especially if they are familiar with a couple of cult movies from 1999 and 2003, the latter reviewed here. The other issue is how much this bothers you. Personally, less than I’d have expected. Though that may reflect the film’s general lack of impact. It feels like the kind of horror-comedy which would rather invite you in for a nice cup of tea than horrify you.

Dir: Staten Cousins Roe
Star: Katie Brayben, Poppy Roe, Ben Lloyd-Hughes, Sarah Ball

Take Back the Night

  By

★★★
“A girl walks home at night…”

This is not exactly subtle in terms of its messaging, or the underling metaphor. But to be honest, I kinda respect that. I’d probably rather know what I’m in for, from the get-go, rather than experiencing a film which thinks it’s going to be “clever”, and pull a bait and switch. Here, even the title makes it obvious enough. The ‘monster’ here is sexual violence, and should you somehow make it through the film oblivious to that, you’ll get a set of crisis helplines before the end-credits role. However, it manages to do its job without becoming misanthropic, largely by having very few male speaking characters, and is adequately entertaining on its own merits, not letting the movie drown in the message.

Up-and-coming artist Jane Doe (Fitzpatrick) is savagely attacked one night outside the warehouse where she’s having her show. Though she reports it to the police, the investigating detective (Lafleur) comes increasingly to the conclusion that Jane is making up the story. This is partly because of her history of petty crime, substance abuse and hereditary mental illness; partly because what Jane describes, rather than a conventional attacker, is a monstrous, smoky and fly-blown apparition. Nor is Jane’s sister (Gulner) exactly supportive, even after the creature returns, looking to finish what it started. Jane discovers an underground network of survivors, and lore stating that only a bronze dagger, forged by a hunter, can hurt it. Fortunately, as an artist, she has a very particular set of skills…

The makers have made some interesting, and rather brave choices. Jane is the only character with a name, and she’s not exactly relatable in a conventional sense. I found it easy to dislike her influencer ways – she seems happiest when telling her sister of an upcoming TV interview about her ordeal – or the random sex she has minutes before the attack. One element of the message is very much that none of this makes Jane ‘deserve’ what happens to her, though the film ignores the counter-argument that when our actions have negative consequences, we can’t deny entirely our own responsibility. You go swimming with sharks, you might end up losing a limb.

There are points which do require the audience to stretch their disbelief more than the grounded tone of this should need. I’d also have liked to hear more about the network. Indeed, the film feels like it finishes just when it should be starting. An entity more interested in entertainment might have compressed what we get here into the front thirty minutes, and developed the notion of a crypto-cult of female vigilante warriors battling these creatures, with their bronze daggers from the shadows. That would, however, likely have diluted the message here and, make no mistake, that is what matters most to the film-makers. Regular readers will be well aware of my problems with cinematic soapboxes. While this does not avoid the resulting pitfalls entirely, nor is it a complete failure like some I’ve endured, and is certainly watchable. 

Dir: Gia Elliot
Star: Emma Fitzpatrick, Angela Gulner, Jennifer Lafleur, Sibongile Mlambo

The Flood

  By

★★★
“Destroy me? They made me…”

The first eighty or so minutes of this are really good: powerful, committed and extremely angry film-making. And justifiably so, I would say. Unfortunately, the film runs for a hundred and seventeen minutes, and definitely goes off the rails towards the end. The gritty realism which was perhaps the movie’s strongest suit is replaced by odd fantasy sequences, such as the fugitive couple suddenly dressed, in the middle of a forest, as if they were attending a Victorian embassy ball. I’m not certain what the point of these elements, or the anachronistic pop songs were. I am certain that they didn’t enhance my appreciation of the film in any way, and that’s a shame, considering how assured it had been in the early going.

There’s no doubt aboriginal Australians received a really bad deal from their government, up until very recent times. As this film documents, they were forced off their lands, and their children frequently taken away as wards of the state. Even those who served their country honourably in World War II, like Waru Banganha  (Cook), were denied basic civil rights on their return to civilian life. Hard to blame Waru for going berserk, and killing some of the Mackay family who had sexually abused his wife, Jarah (Lane), and their daughter, Maggie (Williams), while he was fighting in the jungle. Worse is then to follow, as Jarah is gang-raped while in custody, in an attempt to get her husband’s location. “Don’t let what they did you destroy you,” a friend tells her. Jarah responds with the chilling line at the top of the review. She’s not wrong, as she takes revenge on the Mackays and their cronies, first rescuing and then alongside Waru.

What’s interesting is that, despite his military training, it’s largely Jarah – no mean shot with a gun herself – who takes the lead, and shows little or no mercy. She has decided that they must pay, even those who were only tangentially involved in ripping her family apart, and does so with a clear-headed intensity and ferocity which is wonderful to behold. This kind of story can easily feel like pandering, playing on liberal white guilt, yet McIntyre avoids that. The closest cousin to the body of this picture might be the blaxploitation flicks of the seventies, where the hero or heroine was pushed too far, and eventually stuck it to “the man”. Abosploitation? Though if we’re making up words, it also feels like a “Vegemite Western”, despite the post-war time-frame.

Throughout this, there have been flashbacks and memories that could be dreams. However, these have generally been restrained, and if not maybe adding too much to the film, don’t feel like they hurt it. That changed in the final third, with the pace dropping close to zero, just when it should be ramping up to a climax with all guns blazing. I will admit in particular to rolling my eyes at the redemptive fate of the main antagonist, who deserved considerably worse than he received. The energy and momentum this possessed, just about carries the film over the finish line. Yet I can’t help feeling. it should have been a great deal more effective.

Dir: Victoria Wharfe McIntyre
Star: Alexis Lane, Shaka Cook, Dean Kyrwood, Dalara Williams

Claiming Her Legacy, by Linda Goodnight

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Literary rating: ★★★★★ Kick-butt quotient: ☆

Evangelical Christian author Linda Goodnight is not new to the writing craft; she’s an established novelist with 160 distinct works to her credit, at least some of them best sellers. This particular novel was newly published early this year. Our setting here is Oklahoma Territory in 1890. (At that time, the latter territory occupied the western part of the present-day state; the eastern part was the even more scantily-settled and lawless Indian Territory.) The author lives in Oklahoma (so writes about the setting with assurance); according to an online interview with her, this book was inspired by a photograph in the Territorial Museum at Guthrie, showing a lone pioneer woman toting a rifle in front of a tent as she stood guard over her claim in the 1889 Land Rush. Her spirit imbues Willa Malone, our heroine here. 30 years old, Willa sees herself as an “old maid.” She’s the eldest of three half-sisters, daughters of peripatetic ne’er-do-well Finn Malone, who outlived two wives (and was deserted by a third) in the course of his wanderings, which in 1889 led him to a homestead in the small community of Sweet Clover. Like many of the townsfolk, he was heavily in debt to conniving banker Theodore Pierce, and used his land as collateral. But he’s now recently dead, murdered after he took off on his latest quest for gold. At the moment, the farm isn’t productive; without him, the sisters won’t be able to repay the loan, and they’ll lose their home within months. His killer, though, has been identified as notorious outlaw Charlie Bangs, rumored to be hiding out in Indian Territory, and there’s a $1,000.00 price on his head. When Willa, early on, conceives the idea of tracking him down and claiming the bounty, nobody can talk her out of it. The idea’s not as hare-brained as some folks think. Tough and practical, “tomboy” Willa’s a good shot with a rifle whose hunting skills keep her family supplied with meat; she can ride, and she’s got guts. As even she recognizes, though, the enterprise she’s contemplating is a deadly dangerous one. At the very least, she’ll need the services of an experienced trail guide. Enter one Gideon Hartley. Gideon’s about 35; he’s fairly new in town, but the reputation that precedes him confirms that he’s highly competent as a trail guide in rough terrain –when he’s sober. But his reputation also suggests (correctly) that he drinks a lot. In fact, his alcohol abuse problem is longstanding and deep-seated. He and Willa meet in Chapter 1. Surprisingly (or maybe not, depending on how familiar readers are with “romance” genre conventions; this was published under the “Love Inspired” imprint, though I approached it as a Western, and it works on those terms) there’s some chemistry between them; but neither is looking for that sort of thing, nor inclined to nurture it. More to the point, Willa’s not thrilled with the idea of a “drunk” for a guide; and Gideon (who hasn’t done any guiding for about a year) is pretty well convinced that he’s not up to the job and that Willa would be embarking on a suicide mission anyway. But before long, it becomes clear to her that he’s the only prospective guide she’s going to get, and to him that she’s going whether he goes with her or not. Goodnight gives serious attention to developing her characters (including the secondary ones, along with our H/h) and bringing the community to life, and she takes the time needed to do that in depth. We don’t get started on our actual quest until a bit more than 200 pages in (and the book has 363 pages). Some readers, who expect the adventure of the trail to be the main warp and woof of the tale, won’t like this aspect. However, I fully appreciated the textured, in-depth approach. Both main characters (who alternate as viewpoint characters, though third-person narration is used throughout) are fully round and three-dimensional. Gideon in particular has a lot of psychological baggage, which is believable, and gradually disclosed. Western-style action, once it kicks in, isn’t stinted; there are plenty of jeopardies on the trail, and the climactic confrontation will test our leading couple’s mettle on more than one level. (Willa doesn’t actually have to fire her rifle, but she displays her action heroine moxie by handling a very physically challenging situation near the end with flying colors; I doubt if I’d been brave enough to do the things she did!) The author writes very well; her plotting is excellent, and her re-creation of the time and place masterful. (It features a cameo appearance by real-life person Bass Reeves, the first African-American deputy U.S. marshall.) In keeping with the standards of the ECPA, this book poses no content issues for bad language, sexual content (we do have reference to prostitution, and to the ugly trade of sex trafficking, which is a very contemporary reality, but which goes back a lot longer than that), or ultra-gory violence. Christian faith (which both main characters were raised with, though Gideon’s faith has been long neglected) plays a positive role here, though the book isn’t “preachy” and delivers its spiritual messages by example. I’d recommend this to fans of Westerns, Western romance, and clean (especially Christian) romance in general, as well as to fans of strong heroines. The story arc here is complete, and the book isn’t said to be part of a series (though I suspect that both of Willa’s sisters might eventually get her own sequel). Although some characters, such as Belle Holbrook, obviously have very intriguing backstories, I couldn’t find any indication that they were in prior books by the author. (But if they were, or if they eventually get prequels, I’d be interested in reading those books!) Author: Linda Goodnight Publisher: Love Inspired; available through Amazon, currently only as a printed book. A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

The Novice

  By

★★★
“Rock out, with your cox out.”

Rowing is not a pastime to which I’ve ever given much thought. It’s the backdrop for this, and is based (to some extent) on writer-director Hadaway’s experiences of the sport at college. Her cinematic background is in sound editing, where she worked on films such as The Hateful Eight and – probably of most relevance here – Whiplash. The latter was a study of obsession in the pursuit of talent, and is echoed in the story here.

Alex Dall (Fuhrman) is the archetypal Type A personality, driven to push herself beyond what normal people would consider necessary. For example, she chooses her weakest subject of physics to be her college major, largely for the challenge. Similarly, she decides to take up rowing, and approaches this with the same, relentless single-minded determination and will to succeed. It’s not enough for her simply to make the freshman team. She wants to be part of the top-ranked varsity crew. And Alex doesn’t care about making friends in the process.

As such, she is a contrast to Jamie (Forsyth), another rookie, who joins the team at the same point. Her motivation is very different. She needs the scholarship that making varsity will bring, otherwise (in a rather snobbish plot-point) she will have to go to a less prestigious educational establishment. Inevitably, despite Alex and Jamie being initially friends, through the shared traumas of the hellacious training regime, their competition eventually puts them at odds with each other.

In another film, Jamie would be the protagonist, with Alex the nemesis who has to be battled. Here, though, the focus is on Alex, and the almost self-destructive way in which her obsession with being the best, wrecks every relationship she has, including that with teaching assistant Dani (Dilone). While her coaches certainly admire Alex’s unbeatable work ethic, the film also makes the point, quite forcibly, that in a team sport like rowing eights, other factors matter as much as, if not more so, than just talent. People skills are important too: for you do not necessarily have to like your team-mates, in order to become a cohesive unit. But you do have to respect them.

Hadaway’s experience is particularly apparent in the audio design, which definitely enhances the action oriented sequences, and the sardonic use of music such as Brenda Lee’s “I’m Sorry”. However, it does also appear she never met an opportunity for a montage she could turn down, and if you’ve seen any sports movies, you’ll know these are beyond cliche, even with all the director’s talents in the sound department. Alex is also not a very likable character: while that is clearly the point, it still has a distancing effect on the viewer. Part of me was subconsciously hoping for Alex to fail or even get struck by lightning (an apparently significant threat to rowers). The end does imply at least the potential for change in Alex is still there. Whether it will ever stick, I’m less convinced.

Dir: Lauren Hadaway
Star: Isabelle Fuhrman, Amy Forsyth, Dilone, Jonathan Cherry