Tag: 2018

Immortal Wars

  By

★½
“Batteries not included.”

For whatever reason – presumably misguided stylistic reasons – the great bulk of the film is buried in darkness. Seriously, three-quarters of the film feels like it’s illuminated solely by natural lighting. And given it mostly takes place underground, in rooms with no windows, this is a major problem. The movie reaches its literally darkest moment during an early scene where the camera pans over an underlit set to an even more underlit door where someone has entered to deliver a message. You cannot see who it is. You just hear a disembodied voice, before the camera pans back. It’s a horrible mis-step, whether due to poor shooting, a poor transfer, or a bit of both. It largely dooms the movie, to the point where even an energetic final third is unable to rescue proceedings. For how can you begin to enjoy something you can’t see?

The story takes place in a future world, now divided into ten sectors. A small fraction of the population, known as “deviants”, have developed superpowers, becoming the subject of fear and hatred by regular humans. For popular amusement, there’s an annual competition in which each of the ten sectors capture and nominate their top fighting deviant. They are then taken to a central location and made to battle each other to the death, in a globally-televised contest run by Dominion Harvey (Roberts), which is watched by just about everyone else. So, basically: The Hunger Games crossed with X-Men. On a very, very much smaller budget.

The main heroine is Trikalypse (Gerhardy), one of the ten combatants taking part in this year’s model. Though for the first hour, it’s more chatty, as she bonds with another of the fighters – inevitably, of course, one she ends up fighting later on. But it is refreshingly female-oriented, with both of the finalists being women, as well as the super-boss that the winner then has to take on. However, the film then ends – literally going to the end-credits – just as that fight starts. Fortunately, I didn’t watch this until after the sequel was also available, otherwise I would have been very annoyed. It’s the sort of cliff-hanger you expect from a free e-book on Amazon, not an actual feature film.

Despite the lack of originality, it’s a decent concept and I’d have forgiven this, if the fights had actually been better than mediocre. Instead, as well as the lighting problem, they’re not very well-choreographed, though do have occasional moments which are somewhat effective. I was most impressed with Cruz as bad bitch Dekay, who had the presence, the look and the apparent skills, to keep me at least somewhat interested. But this was small consolation for something which, far too often, crossed the boundary into being genuinely unwatchable. It even managed to waste the talents of Bill Oberst, who shows up for exactly one scene – though at least that’s in daylight – while Tom Sizemore also manages to cameo his way through the darkness. I’m not exactly eagerly looking forward to the sequel, but it’s there…

Dir: Joe Lujan
Star: Jackie Gerhardy, Lindsey Cruz, Eric Roberts, Taylor Kilgore

Recovery

  By

★½
“PTSD might be preferable.”

Dear god, this is tedious. It takes forever for anything to happen, and when it does, the impact is less than overwhelming. Ronnie Price (Pearson, occupying territory somewhere between Angelina Jolie in Girl, Interrupted and Michelle Rodriguez) is a former GI, suffering from PTSD after three tours in the Middle East, who took to “self-medicating” herself with heroin in an attempt to deal with what she went through. This doesn’t do too much for her anger issues, and after one brush with the police, she’s made to choose between prison and a spell in a remote, women-only rehab facility. Reluctantly, she chooses the latter, though it’s not long before her PTSD flashbacks kick in, and threaten to make her stay a brief one.

Before she can be expelled and handed back to the authorities, a blizzard conveniently settles in to the area, cutting the remarkably understaffed clinic off. Then, some of the other residents start turning up dead, and Ronnie’s history of violent rages makes her the prime suspect for the attending physicians, Dr. Barnes (Quattrocki) and Taylor (Starr). With no help from the outside, she’s going to have to prove her innocence, and also use her military skills to protect the rest of the patients from the real killer.

Some credit is probably due – presuming this was a deliberate choice, at least – to both director and lead actress, for making the heroine thoroughly unlikable. When we first meet, Ronnie she’s not a nice person at all, with no apparent interest in getting clean, and only there at all because it seems easier than the alternative of jail. The main problem is, Ronnie never seems to develop from that point. There’s no sense of her coming to terms with her situation and resolving to be a better person, or rising above her issues to acts of heroism and valour.

Instead, it feels as if the audience is supposed to empathize with Robbie, simply because she’s being falsely accused of murder. She can’t even be sure of her own innocence, due to the blackouts. She certainly still isn’t a nice person, and there is hardly anyone else in the film capable of eliciting any empathy from the audience: Dr. Barnes perhaps comes the closest, though she too has her problems. After being largely a dull, druggie drama for the first hour (how many group therapy sessions do we need to see?), it shifts genres for the final third, and becomes a slasher film.

Unfortunately, Liang seems to have no experience of, or expertise with, the horror genre. This would explain why the last act descends into little more than a series of uninspired cliches, Ronnie and the women creeping around the poorly-lit corridors of the hospital and doing battle. I did find slight interest in the realistically brutal approach to the violence: when the “heroine” [quotes used advisedly] administers a beatdown, it feels like the kind of thing a borderline psychotic ex-soldier might do. But as a whole, the cover is a far better film, than the film actually is.

Dir: John Liang
Star: Stephanie Pearson, Hope Quattrocki, Liz Fenning, Mike Starr

The Odds

  By

★★
“Odds against.”

A woman (Butler) agrees to take part in a contest. live-streamed for betting purposes, where 20 players are put through a series of tests, designed to push them to the physical and mental breaking point, with the (literally) last person standing getting a million dollars. Her only associate is the Game Master (Fuertes), who oversees the challenges and relays the results from the other location to her. Initially, it seems like he is on her side, cheerleading and encouraging her. But the further into the event she proceeds, the more questionable his actions become, to the point where she begins to doubt everything he tells her.

It’s a not-exactly subtle metaphor for abusive relationships: once you’ve realized this, the impact is like being repeatedly whacked across the nose with a newspaper. I get it. I GET IT. I GET IT!!! Which is why it starts off with the man being super-nice and friendly, only to become completely controlling, and potentially “gaslighting” the woman with false information, playing his own game of manipulation in an effort to keep her obeying him. All far too obvious: a pity, since a straightforward rendition without the undertones, could have been perfectly fine. The unnamed woman is apparently taking part to make up for past transgressions involving her child, which is plenty to have driven the story, yet this aspect is largely forgotten as we move on.

The structure of the game doesn’t make sense either. After the five preliminary rounds (involving fire, rats, drilling, drowning and de-digitification, should you want to know), it turns into a game of Russian Roulette. Whose outcome is entirely determined by luck, rather than being any particular measure of endurance. Might as well have watched the heroine playing a slot-machine for a bit. Even the film eventually seems to realize the limited interest of repeatedly watching someone pulling a trigger and it going click. For it opts to skip through the rounds with increasing speed, in order to reach the final denouement, where everything you’ve learned might or might not be wrong.

This is clearly one of those films which were written to be cheap, with two speaking roles and a single location. I don’t fault it for that: it’s wise for any film-maker to build something which fits the available resources, and the main thing is that both leads here are decent. Butler, in particular, has an intensity about her which goes a long way to making you understand why someone might sign on for something like this. But my level of interest was far from consistent. It started off high enough, lured in by the interesting concept. However, it dropped off due to the unimaginative nature of the challenges. Things perked up for a bit when I realized the metaphor aspect. At least until I realized it was going to grind the whole thing into the ground, which also made it too easy to predict what would happen next. That’s where enthusiasm settled, and I’m willing to bet you can find more effective uses for your viewing time.

Dir: Bob Giordano
Star: Abbi Butler, James J. Fuertes

Soni

  By

★★
“A policewoman’s lot, is not a happy one…”

This takes place in the Indian city of Delhi, and despite the title and the poster, is really about two policewomen, almost equally. Title billing goes to Soni (Ohlyan), a young  officer who is coming to terms with life after divorce from her husband, Naveen (Shukla). She is also the possessor of a fierce temper, which repeatedly gets her into trouble because she’s unable to keep her cool with suspects. Forced to play clean-up is her boss, superintendent Kalpana Ummat (Batra), who seems to see something of her younger self in Soni, as well as appreciating the junior cop’s potential. But there’s only so far she can protect Soni from the consequences of her outbursts.

Ayr is going for a documentary feel here, using a lot of hand-held camera and single takes, which makes it seem as if the movie is following the characters, rather than them acting as directed. The problem is that there just isn’t enough in the script to sustain interest: we are not, for example, following Soni through the investigation of one particular case which could have acted as a common thread, tying things together. Instead, we get a series of semi-random incidents, which are more or less the same. Soni gets involved in an incident. Soni loses her temper after a man says something bad to her. Soni hits the man. Her superior officer has to deal with the aftermath. There are at least three cycles of the above, which is probably two too many. She literally can’t even go to the bathroom, without a fight breaking out.

That said, the policing aspects are still quite interesting, and I don’t envy either of the women, doing what has to be a thankless job; if this depiction is correct, Indian society is still inhabiting the Stone Age as far as gender equality is concerned. But even that aside, you’re picking the bones out of cases which are rarely clear-cut. For instance, one alleged sexual assault here might be nothing more than a dispute about rent, as Soni suspects, or may be legitimate, as Kalpana reckons. Figuring out the truth in these situations is as much an art as a science, and it’s here, as well as in negotiating the shoals of political influence, where the movie works best.

Unfortunately, it’s dragged down heavily, by the weight of the two women’s personal lives, which are tedious and uninteresting. Soni’s ex-husband keeps trying to get them back together; Kalpana has to deal with a husband, also a police officer, who outranks her, and a mother-in-law who is demanding grandchildren. This is all sub-telenovela rubbish, and doesn’t seem to add any informative or enlightening angles to either character. It also becomes more than slightly monotonous in its gender depictions, with men shown almost inevitably as lecherous, venal, corrupt or, at the very least, blindly indifferent. The lack of any true conclusion may be “realistic,” yet instead provides a final nail in the coffin.

Dir: Ivan Ayr
Star: Geetika Vidya Ohlyan, Saloni Batra, Vikas Shukla, Mohit S. Chauhan

The Precipice

  By

★★
“Teeters on the edge of complete failure”

There’s nothing wrong, as such, with a film playing its hand close to its chest. However, you’ve got to give the audience enough information to keep them interested, and wanting to find out more. It’s here that this movie fails entirely, doggedly remaining so reluctant to tell you anything, I wanted to strap it down in a chair and start waterboarding. We don’t even get names for anyone involved, it’s that willfully unforthcoming. This begins in the aftermath of a shoot-out at a wind-farm, from which there are apparently only two survivors: a woman (Szep) and her captive (de Francesco). They head across the rural terrain towards a rendezvous with her allies, pursued not only by the captive’s allies, but also other interested parties.

I’ll fill in some of the background, since the movie is painfully averse to doing so. There is a looming, if not already happening, ecological catastrophe, which will result in the loss of all potable water. This may potentially lead to the collapse of civilization, particularly in the more crowded Northern hemisphere. The 1% are aware of the impending situation, and are plotting to head south, taking over resources there for their own benefit – in particular, a large underground water source. This is what the captive was involved in, and what the woman is attempting to prevent. Yet there may also be other, hidden agendas.

The interplay between the two leads is probably the best thing about this, with trust hard to come by on either side. For instance, just before bedding down, he asks her, “What makes you think I won’t slit your throat in the middle of the night?” Her reply, which genuinely made me LOL: “Probably the ketamine I laced your food with,” just as he falls unconscious. It’s a shame their relationship operates in such a vacuum, as far as reasons to care go. Both she and he clearly know what’s happening here: they’re just unwilling to share this data with the audience, and the result is a low-intensity apathy. Which is a bit of a pity, since Szep is decent, a low-rent version of Rhona Mitra, and the pursuing group is led by another unnamed woman (Walker). Say what you like about this dystopian future, at least it’s clearly an equal opportunity one.

The scenery is quite nice, and well-photographed too, though I was a bit confused by the lobbing in of some South African references. I guess it’s all Southern Hemisphere. There’s also a scene where the woman just lets her captive run off, because… Well, like just about everything else here, it goes unexplained. Perhaps the most telling point is, I actually ended up watching this twice, because the first time, I got an hour in and realized I had no real clue what was happening. I blamed this on my having been distracted somehow, so restarted it. Nope. A second viewing proved it was truly a case where it was the movie’s fault, and not mine.

Dir: Michael Hatch
Star: Paris Szep, Vito de Francesco, Alyson Walker, Benjamin Francis Pascoe

Ghost Squad

  By

★★★½
“The real female Ghostbusters…”

I’ll confess, the headline above is a bit click-baity. This is perhaps closer to a female version of The Frighteners, the early Peter Jackson film in which Michael J. Fox could see dead people, and had to learn to work with them. The conduit in this case is Rika (Yanagi), a young woman who has been able to see ghosts since a young age. But an encounter with a trio of ghosts, all murder victims who are seeking revenge on their killers, opens a whole new realm. For, it turns out, whenever Rika is in a life-threatening situation, the spirits can take physical form. They can also draw energy from her, which can be used to create weapons, which range from the merely strange (the “meat hammer”) to the bat-shit insane. None more so there, than that of Akari (Mikado). She has a tendency to go into puppy mode when stressed, which involves her becoming… a bit licky. So inevitably her weapon transforms Akari’s hand into Grudge Dog, capable of ripping the face off her opponent.

For I didn’t yet mention, the director is also responsible for some of the finest examples in Japanese splatter, perhaps peaking with The Machine Girl (which may well have informed one of the weapons here, as shown in the trailer). But also including a hand in Mutant Girl Squad and Robogeisha. This is relatively restrained, though the key-word there is “relatively.” There’s certainly the same degree of lunatic inventiveness at work, although the arterial spurting is considerably lower pressure than you’d expect: the comparison above to early Peter Jackson is entirely deliberate.  For the most part it’s goofily endearing rather than outrageously offensive, and quite well thought out. Even if Rika is more a pipeline for vengeance, she tries to act as the group’s moral compass, for example refusing to let the ghosts take vengeance on the daughter of one culprit.

There are still a few scenes which seem a bit sleazy. Not least, that the energy transfer mentioned above is lip-to-lip. Basically, it’s a shallow excuse for some lesbo makeout sessions, which feels at odds with an approach which sometimes seems closer to Disney than extreme gore. And there’s some dancing in underwear which made me feel mildly uncomfortable; it seemed gratuitous, even by Iguchi’s standads. I was also surprised by the way the vengeance largely ended up compacted into a single battle; if this had been paced throughout the film (like Kill Bill), it might have been more effective and enjoyable. However, I still watched the vast bulk of this with a grin on my face, and laughed out loud more than once. It perhaps helped that, going in, I didn’t know who the director was; indeed, the poster above was about all I had to go on. My expectations were closer to a light comedy with action elements, and the imagination here definitely came as a pleasant surprise.

Dir: Noboru Iguchi
Star: Anna Yanagi, Sumire Ueno, Minori Mikado, Yuni Hong

Viking Destiny

  By

★★★
“Low-rent vikings”

The success of Vikings has spawned its fair share of similarly set films, and this isn’t the first such to stray into our purview, following Viking Siege. As there, it’s clear that the budget isn’t anywhere near its television inspiration. As a result, these films have to work harder in other areas, to make up for what they can’t offer in spectacle. Siege did this by mostly taking place in a single location. Destiny tries (and fails) to be at least occasionally epic, but benefits by having a genuine action heroine, front and centre. Not quite Lagertha, perhaps, yet close enough to be a pleasant surprise.

It’s Helle (Demetriou), who was the daughter of King Asmund of Volsung, swapped out for a male child, due to heir-related reasons. However, her replacement has grown up neither interested in, nor suitable for, leadership, while Helle has turned into a bit of a bad-ass. After Asmund’s death, his brother Bard (Nieminen) tries to take the throne, framing Helle for the murder of the official heir. She manages to escape, and with a little guidance from Odin (Stamp, who must have needed a house car TV payment or something), prepares to claim her rightful place on the throne of Volsung. Meanwhile, Bard has some divine guidance of his own, in the shape of Loki (McArthur).

The paucity of resources available is most painfully apparent during the final battle for the kingdom, which clearly has little more than a football team (plus substitutes) taking part on each side. Unless Volsung is smaller than San Marino, they shouldn’t have bothered. Considerably more successful are the one-on-one fights, such as Helle’s battle against one of a pair of hulking giant killers (note, no hyphen!), both played effectively by 6’8″ body-builder Martyn Ford. Demetriou has a fast, athletic style in combat, which is a nice contrast to the brute strength used by her far larger opponent. Generally, though, she looks and acts her part very well: as mentioned, maybe Lagertha Lite, yet a worthy shield-maiden, none the less.

The supporting cast may err on the side of panto, Nieminen and McArthur in particular, yet this doesn’t feel particularly inappropriate, given their villainous nature. Rather less interesting are the low-rent hippies with whom Helle joins up in her wandering through the woods. They show up to spout pacifist philosophy and drink fermented turnip juice (!), before mysteriously acquiring weapons and the skill to use them – just in time to slaughter and be slaughtered in the final battle. Pacifism: it’s vastly over-rated…

But when it sticks to the smaller scale, and its heroine in particular, this is by no means terrible, providing your expectations are similarly restrained. In some ways, it seems like a throwback to similar British sword and sorcery flicks of the early eighties. from polished entries like Excalibur, down to the cheap ‘n’ cheerful (yet not necessarily less fun) end represented by Hawk the Slayer. That’s not entirely a bad thing, in my humble opinion.

Dir: David L.G. Hughes
Star: Anna Demetriou, Timo Nieminen, Murray McArthur, Terence Stamp
a.k.a. Of Gods and Warriors

Prospect

  By

★★½
“Get the little things right, but…”

Coming in on a wave of hype, e.g. “The Best Indie Science Fiction Movie Since Moon“, I guess I should have listened – because I didn’t think Moon was all that great either. Here, there’s a great job done of creating a universe, and even the two lead characters are interesting enough. It’s just an abject failure to fill the world with a decent story. Still: that world… It’s a grubbily lived-in and analog future version of space, controlled with retro-styled switches, and where the beauty of the cosmos is largely glimpsed through undersized, dirty spaceship windows.

Resident in it are teenage girl Cee (Thatcher) and her father (Duplass), barely scratching a living by mining resources out of alien creatures on the surface of a planet with a toxic atmosphere. Fortune beckons, however, because he has got word of a mother-lode which will set them up for life. Unhappily, their attempt to reach it is derailed by an encounter with Ezra (Pascal) and his partner, two other prospectors of dubious morality. One thing leads to another, and Cee suddenly finds that her survival is dependent on forging an extremely uneasy alliance with Ezra.

There’s definitely the feeling that this is intended to be a space Western, with a lot of the characters seeming like they come off the range, wearing space-helmets instead of Stetsons. The weapons wielded, though hi-tech rail-guns, operate more like a Winchester Model 1873, and there’s additionally a sense of lawlessness, with the planet being a wild frontier. If you want justice – as Cee certainly does – she will have to administer it herself, because no-one else is going to do so. True Grit feels like an influence there. On occasion, the scope suddenly broadens out too, with a wide, magnificent landscape – only one with an F-sized planet hanging low in the sky.

This is all quite lovely. The problem is a incredibly underwhelming script, not helped by dialogue which often seems to border on gibberish. For example, “We have three cycles for the job before we have to catch the slingback.” What happens if you don’t catch the slingback? Is that a very bad thing? And is three cycles a lot? Hours? Days? Weeks? We never know, because Cee’s watch tells the time in some bizarre foreign language. The same obtuseness goes for much of the plot: too often, we’re never clear who’s doing what and to whom, or for what purpose. Perhaps the original short film fared better on this front?

Certainly, it feels as if Cee gives up her quest for revenge here rather too easily. Though she still has a somewhat interesting character arc. Forced to come out from under the protection of her father, and fending for herself, especially given the hostile environment, is no piece of cake. Focusing on that aspect, rather than the vaguely-defined efforts to reach the buried treasure and/or get safely off the planet’s surface, might have proved more effective.

Dir: Zeek Earl and Chris Caldwell
Star: Sophie Thatcher, Pedro Pascal, Jay Duplass

A Lonely Woman

  By

★★
“An overcooked spaghetti Western”

It’s one of those weird coincidences. I watched two action heroine flicks last weekend and both, while American, starred actresses who were born in Greece. Really, what are the odds? Sleeping Dogs Lie was the other: this is slightly superior, largely through being less wordy, and more genuinely vengeful. Coming home one night, Annie (Skafida) is stunned to find both of her parents dead in their house, the victims of an apparent robbery. But her concern is raised when their will is read, and Annie discovers that she has been disinherited, the victim of a mysterious late change. Annie was a foster kid, and never felt quite like “one of the family,” so is immediately suspicious of her siblings, especially the one who appears to have benefited from the update. The further she digs, the murkier the waters become, as she seeks bloody vengeance on those responsible – directly or indirectly – for the murder of her adopted parents.

Skafida is probably the best thing about this, simply for her presence, which is the cinematic equivalent of a heap of burning tyres – and not just for the amount of smoke she produces. [Seriously, I can’t remember the last film with so many cigarettes in it] I actually mean that comparison in a positive way, since she brings a smouldering, yet toxic intensity to proceedings – though, as in Sleeping Dogs Lie, it often feels like the heroine is acting in a second language. Still, the intensity keeps the viewer on edge, with the sense she’s a wild-card, who might explode into action at any moment, especially in her alter ego of “Jezebel”.

The problems are… Well, sad to say, just about everything else. Start with a story which appears to bounce around in time and space without any logic. For instance, early on, there’s a shootout between Jezebel and a group of disgruntled poker players, from whom she won her motorbike. The poker game itself shows up an hour or so later. There’s no explanation for this approach, and it serves no purpose either. Similarly, there are cases where the lack of background on a movie character can work in their favour, giving them an air of mystery. Here, it seems more like laziness.  

The music sounds as if the makers got a discount on three tunes from the stock soundtrack emporium, and decided to make the most of their bargain basement purchase, by using them in every single scene, regardless of fit. Ennio Morricone, it most definitely is not. And Cavazos certainly doesn’t match up to Sergio Leone in terms of cinematography. Even in the climactic duel, clearly intended to echo a “high noon” gunfight, the scene is edited in a hyper way which would seem better suited to an entry in the Crank franchise. While the aim of a modern take on the spaghetti Western is laudable, this is largely a failure. The end product is closer in appeal to a plate of last week’s soggy pasta than the works of Leone.

Dir: Juven Cavazos
Star: Youlika Skafida, Beau Yotty, Joe Grisaffi, Michael Tula

Sleeping Dogs Lie

  By

★★
“Dogged by issues.”

Account Armando (Cabellero) has made a series of questionable decisions, the two largest of which are: a) skimming from his organized crime connected client, Mr. Nakamura, and b) cheating on his wife Eleni (Giannatou) with his secretary, Luna (Zanella). These both come to a head when Eleni walks in on the pair of them, and the three of them take a long drive to a remote house in the desert, with Armando in the trunk of the car. There, Eleni prepares to extract the access information to the account where he has stashed the ill-gotten gains – an account Luna is rather unhappy to discover was created in her name. However, Armando knows this information is the only thing standing between him and a hole in the desert, so won’t give it up easily. And what, exactly, are Luna’s allegiances? Is she on his side or that or Eleni?

After a satisfactorily intriguing start, this falls apart after Armando breaks free of his bonds, and vanishes into the blackness surrounding the cabin. Far too much of the film thereafter consists of running around in the near darkness, and you’re left peering into the gloom, trying to figure out who is doing what, and to whom. [Low-budget film-makers need to realize that their product is far more likely to be seen on the small screen than a big one, and light/shoot on that basis] Though the problems start earlier, with a script that seems a draft or two short of polished. For instance, Eleni talks at length to Armando about how the foot is the most sensitive part of the body, then drives a nail right through… his hand?

It doesn’t help that the lead actress appears to be operating largely in her second language. What we get here is an object demonstration of the difference between speaking English, which she does perfectly well, and acting in English. It’s the latter which is an issue, and one made all the apparent by a scene or two where she gets to revert to her native Greek. The difference, in a positive direction, is palpable. Maybe it should just have been made entirely in Greek and Spanish?

But the weakness here is mostly the storyline, which relies too much on contrived incompetence necessary to the plot. By which I mean, if the trio had a lick of sense, events would have unfolded in three radically different directions. Eleni, in particular, stops being the intelligent and resourceful woman she initially appears, the one which I was looking forward to seeing, taking her revenge on an idiotic and unfaithful husband. Instead, by the time this ends, with one final twist beyond what is either necessary or plausible, you’ll be hard pushed to muster any reaction beyond a sigh, or possibly a small, marginally derisive snort.

Dir: Konstantinos Kovas
Star: Markella Giannatou, Miguel Angel Caballero, Joanna Zanella