Claw

★★★
“Jurassic dog park”

Yeah, the scale here is a bit smaller than the Spielberg classic, to put it mildly. As in… there’s precisely one (1) velociraptor. For reasons that are a bit unclear, this is roaming a deserted Wild West attraction on the road to Los Angeles. Heading to LA are wannabe stand-up comic Julia (Walker) and her flamingly gay best friend, Kyle (Rennie). An accident forces them off the road, and with – what a surprise! – no cell signal, they are forced to seek help at the previously mentioned attraction, where Ray (Mede) is the only inhabitant, and is acting a bit odd. Turns out, there’s good reason for this, with a large, carnivorous prehistoric reptile roaming the facility, the work of a mad scientist (Mertz). Will Julia ever make it to Tinseltown?

Clearly, you have to understand that this is a low-budget entity, and not expect the kind of spectacle provided by larger dinosaur movies. That said, if you stick with it – and the 30 minutes it takes for the lizard mayhem to kick in, seems a lot longer – this isn’t without charm. Once it gets going, there is a fairly non-stop degree of energy, and there’s an interesting role reversal to the typical dynamic of couples in these movies. Kyle is the one who spends much of the time cowering in a corner; it may be stereotypical in its portrayal of homosexuality, but not gratingly so, and it allows Julia to become a bit more pro-active than normal.

If she is not exactly Ellen Ripley, to be sure, we are starting from a considerably lower level to begin with, and that does make her a bit more relatable. Most of what she does, is stuff that you or I could do (okay… probably just you. Getting out of bed is a battle, personally!), rather than any kind of superhuman feat. Between the writing and the performances, the film does a good job of making the characters seem like real people, to a better degree than most cheap B-movies. There’s a lengthy coda, after the film basically ends not past the hour mark, with several unnecessary scenes apparently added to reach feature length. It is probably just worth staying around, purely to hear Julia perform her velociraptor-themed stand-up routine.

The dinosaur is mostly CGI, and is integrated adequately enough into proceedings, though its actual interaction with any physical people or things, is limited to put it mildly. On the other hand, it manages to avoid the frequent pitfall of movies shot at night, where most of the action here takes place. You can actually tell what’s happening, without straining your eyes to peer into an underlit darkness. This positive is less common than you might think. Again, I cannot stress enough that it offers small-scale carnage, at best. However, I was still entertained more than I expected, and was left willing to give this the benefit, of the more than considerable doubts I had going in.

Dir: Gerald Rascionato
Star: Chynna Walker, Richard Rennie, Mel Mede, Ken Mertz

Burn It All

★★
“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

Violet

★★
“Love the poster. The film? Not so much.”

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.

The main theme this seeks to illustrate, appears to be the proverb about revenge and digging two graves. There’s not much uplifting about the process through which Violet goes, and you’d be hard pushed to argue that, at the end, she finds herself in a better place. She may have made her attackers regret what they did, in no uncertain fashion. [Ironically, she posts the resulting videos on the same site, and acquires a bit of a cult following as a result.] However, it doesn’t fix the problem: her thespian ambitions, for example, can never be restored to what they were. Indeed, there turns out to be a high price to be paid, though it has to be said, this results from one of the more unlikely plot twists I can remember.

That development is just one of the problems with this, which managed to keep taking me out of the narrative, just when it seemed to be pulling me in. For example, Violet’s “mother” looks, acts and sounds about three years old than the 21-year-old heroine, and is so unconvincing in this role, she sticks out like a sore thumb. The extended chit-chat between Josh and Violet also rarely surpasses the level of of his self-composed poems. At least they nailed the bad teenage verse aspect: I literally LOL’d at his rhyming of “shoulder” with “boulder”.

I’m not sure about Winkler’s performance, which is hurt by inconsistency. There are points when she seemed thoroughly believable, selling the pain of her experiences. Yet, two minutes later, it was as if a switch had been flipped and no trace of the trauma could be seen. While that may have been a deliberate dramatic choice, it feels false. I did appreciate, however, the decision to leave the rape almost unportrayed. We see only a fraction of the resulting video on the Internet, and I’m fine with that. I’ve always been about the revenge, and that doesn’t feel any less justified as a result of that choice. Overall though, it doesn’t mess sufficiently well to deliver the necessary impact.

Dir: Samuel Vainisi
Star: Alyss Winkler, Jason Crowe, Ember Burns, Keith Voigt Jr.

Locked In

★★½
“Die Hard in a storage facility? Hardly.”

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.

Maggie (Suvari) is a single mom, struggling to make ends meet after her husband is sent to prison. She and daughter Tarin (Polish) cross swords frequently, and Maggie is also teetering on the edge of being evicted from their apartment in an unsavoury neighbourhood. She works at a storage facility, becomes aware that her boss is up to something shady, and stumbles across a box of cash – the proceeds of his side-hustle, renting out space to store stolen goods. Tempted to take some of the money to solve her financial issues, she decides not to. But she then sees over the facility’s CCTV cameras, her boss being killed by Mel (Fahey) and Ross (Perez), who have come to retrieve a stash of diamonds, the proceeds of a robbery. Complicating matters, Tarin is also in the building.

The heroine has some interesting traits, and it’s a shame these aren’t leveraged more. For example, she’s a Christian, reading passages from the Bible to Tarin. She also falls short of being particularly competent, and is easily cowed in the face of aggression. Right at the start, it’s also established she suffers from claustrophobia; that seems like a particularly obvious plot-point, yet at least the film doesn’t overplay that hand. The film’s issues are more on the other side of the coin, with far too much camera time given to the villains of the piece. They are about the least effective thing the movie has to offer, with Fahey and Costas Mandylor getting characters straight out of stock casting.

To be honest, this is more of a thriller than an action movie. Tarin needs to outwit her enemies, and figure out who she can trust, more than taking them down, John McClane style. However, the scenario, especially with her having to defend her child (who is Annoying Teenager 1.0.1, in the same way as we get Bad Guys 1.0.1.), is what makes it qualify here. While first-time director Gutierrez tries to use the single location to amp up the tension, I can’t remember off-hand a single moment where this worked to the film’s advantage.  Then again, I can’t remember very much about it overall; considering I watched it less than 24 hours ago, that’s not a good sign…

Dir: Carlos V. Gutierrez
Star: Mena Suvari, Jasper Polish, Jeff Fahey, Manny Perez

Unchained

★★
“Needs a short leash”

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 should be filmed. I can only guess that “Raphaello” never saw Boyka: Unleashed. And since he also co-wrote, co-produced, shot and edited this thing, pretty much all the blame for its shortcomings has to be laid at his feet. I say this, since the performances, if hardly Oscar-winning, are likely the least of the film’s worries. Even if Eric Roberts may have literally phoned, or these days, Zoomed in his role, straight from his living-room couch, as the story-telling father of the heroine.

She is Aella (Mulroney), an ex-soldier who is now desperately seeking work to fend off the bills that are piling up. She goes to audition for a role in a movie about an underground fight club, only to be bopped on the head, and wake up in – what are the odds! – an underground fight club. There’s she is forcibly trained by The Warden (Andrews, looking like the resurrected corpse of Lemmy from Motorhead) and his sidekick Regina. The latter is played by Valkyrie – that’s not her real name, she’s a pro wrestler whom we remember from Lucha Underground,  and is married to the more well-known John Morrison. From here, things progress more or less as you’d expect, with Aella and her fellow captives fighting each other, while plotting a break for freedom.

It is, as noted, the technical aspects which are woefully inept here. “Raphaello” seems incapable of holding the camera steady and pointing it in the same direction for more than two seconds during the fight scenes, which are borderline unwatchable as a result. Mind you, the participants appear largely unfamiliar with how to throw a punch; odd consider Aella’s supposed military background. Not helping matters are the tedious training montages, terrible soundtrack, and resources which fall well short of the high-end operation supposedly taking place, where women are sold for six-figure sums. I’m pretty sure the entire film did not cost anywhere near six figures. Then there’s the ending, where a giant fireball kills all the bad people, while the heroine escapes unscathed… by turning her back on it. I kid you not.

If more a disaster movie than an action one, in the sense of being a disaster, I will say, I did keep watching. As noted earlier, this is mostly due to decent performances. Mulroney has about the right mix of resilience and insolence for the role, while both Andrews and Valkyrie are cut from suitably villainous cloth. In better hands – such as the people behind Boyka: Unleashed – the actors and actresses could have been part of something entertaining. As is, it largely goes to prove that, no matter how many hyphens “Raphaello” may string into his credentials, there’s no substitute for talent. 

Dir: Raphaello
Star: Mair Mulroney, Larry L Andrews, Taya Valkyrie, Maricris Lapaix

Cold Blooded Killers

★★
“In severe need of warming up.”

A confusing mess with some redeeming features, we first see the titular assassin – in either title – Rose (Rose) taking out an entire family in their home. This is notable in two ways. First, how the wife keeps an arsenal of weapons under the sink. Second, how Rose kills the young daughter, after the little girl vows to take revenge when she grows up. This is, unfortunately, as good as it gets. Before long, coherence is left by the wayside. The basic plot involves Rose’s sister Misty, being kidnapped by Hank (Sheridan), in revenge for her killing of his brother. She heads out, accompanied by her sister’s boss Becky (Williams), in search of Hank and Misty.

But there are also a slew – far too many for the script to handle, truth be told – of other assassins, on Rose’s tail, working through some kind of phone app for hitmen. It’s difficult to keep track of them all, and even the movie can’t manage it. For example, at one point, another killer is clearly introduced as Anita, but the on-screen caption calls her Marilyn. I read reports there were issues in production, with control being taken away from the director, and all manner of extra footage shot. That would go some way to explain this jumbled mess, and why it wasn’t released until three years after the initial shoot had finished. Though, of course does not excuse it.

I will say, the final battle is somewhat amusing. Albeit, more for Becky going berserk with a chainsaw, than Rose firing hundreds of bullets at her target, who drops with a feeble three or four blood squibs on his chest. If the film had concentrated on that pair, it might have amounted to something, as their scenes have a rough edge to them that is entertaining to watch. And, let’s face it, the amount of cleavage on view from both is not exactly a detriment. I’ll also acknowledge the presence of legendary scream queen Brinke Stevens, which is never a bad thing, even in little more than a cameo, as here. 

However, the flaws are considerably more numerous. Even though our heroines are fun, we’re never given any real reason to care about either of them. The same goes for the other characters: Hank’s impact is almost entirely limited to his facial hair, and Anita/Marilyn to her costume choices. There is little or no structure, with the grand finale coming out of nowhere, and delivering a twist which neither was a surprise, nor made much sense. I’m also not a fan of copious CGI, which appears to have been used for a lot of the gunplay, and in a sloppy way at that. The end result is something which would probably make a very good trailer, yet would leave any viewer of said trailer, hugely disappointed. For this is 10 minutes of decent content in a 90-minute movie.

Dir: Rickey Bird Jr.
Star: Felissa Rose, Dave Sheridan, Caroline Williams, Steven Chase
a.k.a. Killer Rose

Bruised

★★★★
“Packs a surprising punch.”

Halle Berry was born the same year I was. There is, however, just one of us that is capable of convincingly playing the role of a mixed martial artist. To give you another yardstick, the lead in this was originally going to go to Mrs. Ryan Reynolds, Blake Lively (The Shallows and The Rhythm Section), who is more than 20 years younger than Berry. I will admit, Chris did raise one of her sardonic eyebrows at the scene where Halle’s character buys Tampax, and the idea of her having a six-year-old son is perhaps a bit of a stretch. But if you didn’t know the actress has been AARP-eligible for over five years, you’d simply never guess.

This is probably the best movie yet made about women’s combat sports, though that’s not exactly going up against strong competition. The script is probably the only weak element, never escaping the standard clichés; there are very few surprises in its 138 minutes. But just about every other aspect is excellent. The heroine is Jackie Justice (Berry), a former UFC fighter, whose promising career fell apart four years ago. She just lost her job as a cleaner, and is pretty much at rock-bottom. Her boyfriend/”manager”  Desi (Canto) takes Jackie to an underground match, where she is provoked into beating her opponent into a pulp. That gets the attention of a local promoter, who gives her one last shot, a bout against undefeated champion, Lucia “Lady Killer” Chavez (Valentina Shevchenko, the current UFC Women’s Flyweight Champion, whose fight face is genuinely scary!).

Of course, even to reach that point, she has to overcome the inevitable slew of obstacles. Desi’s domestic abuse, the doubts of her trainer, Buddhaken (Atim); and in particular, having her son Manny (Boyd) dumped on her, after the death of his father. Naturally, Jackie is able to rise above them all, and get her moment in the sun. Really, there’s only two possible outcomes – she wins or she doesn’t – and neither are exactly novel. Still, it’s all so earnest that you can’t help be pulled in. Berry sells the tropes with the conviction of her performance, and there are particularly good supporting roles from theatre veterans Atim, and Adriane Lenox as Jackie’s mother.

It’s worth pointing out that this is also Berry’s directorial debut, and it’s a very assured first feature. It never feels long, and about the only thread which felt superfluous was the romantic entanglement with her trainer. The resulting lesbisn canoodling seemed a bit gratuitous and out of sync with the gritty, down to earth feel from the rest of the movie. Fortunately, there are more than enough powerful and excellent scenes, and it’s very easy to get behind the heroine in her quest for redemption. Jackie is a character who comes with a lot of baggage, yet it all just makes her struggle seem all the more real. A shame this, Berry’s portrayal in particular, will likely be overlooked come the Oscars.

Dir: Halle Berry
Star: Halle Berry, Sheila Atim, Danny Boyd Jr, Adan Canto

Crimson Crown Wrestling’s Goddess of Gore 2

★★★½
“Hard to the core.”

I’ve written occasionally about the more extreme end of women’s wrestling, but it appears not for a while. It was back in 2012-13 when I covered IWA Mid-South: Queen of the Deathmatch and FMW: Torn to Shreds. A fair amount of water has gone under the bridge in the field, since I bemoaned “the largely pathetic excuse for it put out by the WWE”. We had the Divas “Revolution” in 2015, which eventually led to the WWE’s first all-female PPV, Evolution, in 2018. Becky Lynch, Ronda Rousey and Charlotte Flair then headlined Wrestlemania that year, the first women to do so.

But it’s still very unlikely you will see mainstream promotions go ‘hardcore’, using weapons and bleeding. That said, in March this year, AEW had a somewhat controversial match between Britt Baker and Thunder Rosa, which ended with both participants wearing the crimson mask. Generally, however, if you want that – and if you don’t, that’s perfectly fine too, for I appreciate this is not to everyone’s taste – you need to dig down into the world of independent wrestling.

Which brings us to CCW’s Goddess of Gore 2, held at American Legion Post #335 in South Gate, California, on October 3rd, before a crowd of… dozens. Okay, that is a bit snarky. We have worked for and patronize a lot of independent federations locally, and the crowd for them is typically along similar lines, between one and two hundred. That is a bit sad, because given what the participants go through, they deserve more. Then again, tickets for this show started at forty bucks, which is easily twice the price of what we’d pay here in Arizona. Maybe, like petrol, professional wrestling just costs more in California.

The format was simple: eight women in a knockout tournament, so the winner would need to win three matches in the night to take home the trophy. The participants were a broad mix, including veterans and relative newcomers. Ironically, the former included Mickie Knuckles, who was the winner of 2006’s Queen of the Deathmatch. The others included Randi West, who has been fighting even longer then Knuckles, starting her pro career in 2002; Mariah Moreno, a transgender wrestler; and the wonderfully named Ludark Shaitan, who came up from Mexico for the event.

Things did take a little while to get going, with the first match almost blood-free. However, things escalated thereafter, with the next bout, between Knuckles and Ruby Raze including – and I wrote all this down – fluorescent light tubes, a TV set, an apparently real beer bottle (which failed to break on the victim’s head!) and a weed-whacker. This was more like the kind of insane mayhem I expected, given the title. In terms of pure wrestling, the third match might have been the best, in which “Pumpkin Queen” Sage Sin prevailed over “The Patron Saint of Filth” Christina Von Eerie [Yeah, no pro wrestler ever undersells themselves!]

But it was in the semi-finals where the carnage ramped up to another level. West faced Shaitan, who deserves credit for wrestling back-to-back matches, with little or no rest (at over 11 minutes, this was also the longest bout in the tournament). It ended with West beating Shaitan, after driving her through a door, after coming off the top rope. There may also have been a cheese-grater involved. [Quick aside here: despite the small attendance, I did find CCW’s presentation of the event quite impressive and professional. It was helped in particular by commentators Kris Kloss & Kikyo, who managed to be both enthusiastic and informative]

The other final saw Knuckles taking on Sage Sin, and certainly had some of the more… original items. A car windshield was propped up in one corner, and at one point, Sin tried to drive Knuckles through an ironing-board. That particular move ended with Mickie’s head catching the edge of the board, in a sobering reminder that, especially in this kind of wrestling, shit happens. Still, Mickie was able to recover, surviving that and being swatted with a fan of light tubes. She reached the final, albeit with the help of some outside interference. This may have made more sense in the broader scheme of CCW storylines; to this casual viewer, however, it seemed rather pointless.

So: West vs. Knuckles it was, proving that experience matters. Neither might be exactly what a non-fan would think of as lady wrestlers – lady truckers might be a bit cruel, yet not unfair – but you can’t argue about what really matters. That would be their willingness to put their bodies on the line for our amusement. In the beginning, they were chained to each other with barbed-wire, and the ring hadn’t even been cleared of the debris left over from the semi-finals. It did not take long before both women were bleeding: Mickie had the worst of the early exchanges, as Randi stapled her shirt to her opponent’s head, then used it to choke her.

The ring, by this stage, was awash in broken glass, thumbtacks, beer and god knows what else, making things even more treacherous. It was only when West was able to throw Knuckle through the windscreen, and cover her for the pin. But it was kinda touching how, after the bout, Knuckles spoke in glowing terms about her veteran opponent. West, too, seemed genuinely moved by having won an actual trophy: “In wrestling, you don’t get a lot of tangible rewards.” Yeah, pro wrestling is staged, I know. But having seen what West had gone through over the course of one night, I’m in agreement with the crowd and their chants of “You deserve it!”

Promotion:: Crimson Crown Wrestling
Star: Mickie Knuckles, Randi West, Sage Sin, Ludark Shaitan

Arcane

★★★½
“A tale of two sisters.”

I’ve never played League of Legends, but the good news is, you don’t need to, in order to enjoy Arcane. While that may provide some extra depth, it works perfectly well on its own. There is a degree of over-familiarity with the high-level scenario, which is Generic Fantasy Plot #3. Per Wikipedia’s premise, “Amidst the escalating unrest between the advanced, utopian city of Piltover and the squalid, repressed undercity of Zaun…” Yeah, it’s class war time again, cut from the same basic stamp as Mortal EnginesAlita: Battle Angel and The Hunger Games. To this series’s credit, it does show more nuance than some, with good and bad on both sides of the divide. Perhaps a bit too much though, as there were points where it felt like new characters were being thrown at the viewer, even late into the nine-episode series, when the time might have been better spent developing existing ones.

The central pair are sisters Vi (Steinfeld) and Powder (Purnell), orphaned after a failed rebellion. They’re brought up by the leader of the rebellion, and subsequently get entangled in the web of crime, politics, magic and science which powers both sides of the divide. There’s a lot going on here: simply summarizing it would fill the rest of the article. But there are a couple of key points. Powder becomes estranged from her sister, changes her name to Jinx, and goes to work for crime lord Silco (Spisak). Scientist Jayce Talis (Alejandro) creates a technology called Hextech: this (Generic Fantasy Plot #7…) allows for the control of magical energy, which can used for good or evil. It also does… well, whatever the plot needs, from curing illness to blowing things up. Intrigue ensues. A great deal of intrigue.

I did appreciate the script’s complexity, which stands in contrast to most video-game adaptations. I think the greater length (9 x 40-ish minutes) than a movie, gives the writers time to explore things in more depth, and I can’t complain at all about the overall world-building, either in story or artwork. Its French origins perhaps explain the look, which sometimes resembles a bande dessinee. Indeed, the show does almost all the big things right, from animation that’s top-notch, through good voice-acting, and some very well-constructed fight scenes. Vi does not mess around, and proves more than capable of going toe-to-toe with the biggest and baddest both Piltover and Zaun have to offer. Animated combat often lacks the impact of live-action – it’s an almost inevitable result of the medium – but that is not the case here. Blows pack a real punch, if you see what I mean. 

However, there were a number of elements which did hamper the show, and for me, left it short of Seal of Approval level. I mentioned above the reliance on over-familiar tropes. This extends to dialogue which sometimes topples over into clichés, e.g. Vi telling Powder, “What makes you different makes you strong.” Pardon me if I roll my eyes and quote Chuck Pahluniak in response, “You’re not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You’re the same decaying organic matter as everything else.” I also didn’t like the use of indie rock and rap music, finding it too distracting and not a good fit for the environment. I like Imagine Dragons as much as the next person, but… This felt too much like a soundtrack CD in search of a film. Contrast the fight at the end of episode 7 (I think?), accompanied instead by orchestral music, which is perhaps the best in the entire show.

Still, there are absolutely no shortage of strong female characters, even past the sisters. For example, Caitlyn Kiramman, the daughter of a noble family who taken on the difficult job of policing the streets, or Mel Medarda and her mother. While the society portrayed in the show has its issues, gender (and race) don’t appear to be among them, rarely even cropping up. I’ve tended to skip a lot of the Netflix animated shows, for one reason or another, but this definitely was not a waste of time. The way it finishes though… I can’t discuss it in depth for spoiler reasons. But if they hadn’t already announced a second series is coming, I would be severely peeved. I hate that kind of ending in books, and it works no better in a TV show. Do better next time, please.

Dir: Pascal Charrue, Arnaud Delord
Star (voice): Hailee Steinfeld, Ella Purnell, Kevin Alejandro, Jason Spisak

Masquerade

★½
“Home confusion.”

It’s never a good sign, when the first thing we do at the end of a movie, is go straight to the Internet and try to find out what happened. That’s what we needd to do here, after a “twist” left us both thoroughly confused as hell about what had happened. After 15-20 minutes of both Chris and I googling, I think we eventually achieved some kind of consensus. But it was far from satisfying, and we are definitely not happy about it. I admire the attempt made to up-end everything the audience has seen over the previous 75 minutes. Unfortunately, when the execution is as wretched as here, I wish writer-director Taylor hadn’t bothered. 

After Girl and Chick Fight, it seems to be part of Bella Thorne’s attempts to re-invent herself as an action heroine, rather than the wussy vampire lover of Twilight fame. But this appears to have mutated more into a race to the bottom, between her and Ruby Ros,e as to who can select the worse projects. While both actresses have potential, neither of them have found material which is decent. This definitely ranks among the crappiest, even before reaching the ending. It’s about the burglary of a mansion belonging to married art brokers, Olivia (Monroe) and Daniel, by a masked man and a woman (Samuels). The couple’s young daughter, Casey (Lind) hides after the babysitter is brutally bludgeoned to death, while waitress Rose (Thorne), who is driving the couple home, appears to be in cahoots with the home invaders. Key word: appears.

The burglars turn the power off, for no particular reason – it’s established they had already disabled the alarm. Which means that the bulk of the movie has everyone involved creeping around the house in near darkness. I don’t know why film-makers persist in doing this. I stopped being scared of the dark when was 11, and now it’s just an irritant. Not helping matters, the criminals demonstrate absolutely no sense of urgency, moving at the most languid pace possible, when you would think it would behoove them to get in and out as quickly as possible. Of course, these actions are so that the movie can happen, with Casey crawling around the attic space, desperately trying to avoid capture, as Rose looms ever closer.

Lind is probably the best thing about this, balancing nicely between being brave and resourceful, without toppling over into Hit Girl-like excess. But even here there are problems – such as, why she didn’t get her parents’ gun earlier, or make any effort to call for help, leave the house, etc. It all adds up to one of the most woefully inept scripts I’ve had the misfortune to view in a long time. I should have seen the warning signs on the poster: when the thing you want to tout most is the producers’ previous credits, you have a very weak hand. Still better than Twilight though. Albeit, only just.

Dir: Shane Dax Taylor
Star: Bella Thorne, Alyvia Alyn Lind, Skyler Samuels, Mircea Monroe