★
“Of unsound mind.”
My first surprise here was that this clocks in at a crisp 44 minutes. That’s an awkward length for any film: too short to be a feature, but most festivals that accept short films will balk at a submission of that length, when the time could instead be used to accept three x 15-minute entries [as someone who runs a festival, this is definitely a consideration]. Quite how this got distribution, I’m therefore not sure; but there it was, sitting on Amazon Prime. However, less than two minutes into the viewing experience, I found myself thanking my stars the running time was so brief. Because this is hamstrung by the worst audio I’ve seen on any film in several years. When even an envelope being opened sounds like a burst of automatic gunfire, you’ve got a problem, and there’s hardly a scene here where this aspect is not bad enough, as to be an unbearable distraction.
It is something of a shame, since it has at least the germ of a decent idea. Piper (Paris) is in an abusive relationship, one that ends up with her being sent to hospital. On her release, she joins a support group for similarly battered women, who share video diaries, as part of the healing process. However, revenge eventually becomes part of their therapeutic activities, taking out their anger on the men who abused them, and these prove viral successes. There is potential for exploration here, not least in the way social media can create and inflame a lynch mob mentality – with the potential for it to spill over into the physical world too. Of course, for that exploration to work, you’d firstly have to be able to tolerate dialogue which sounds like it was recorded either in a wind-tunnel or a diving chamber. Not helping matters: characters that might harbour dreams of some day developing and blossoming into shallow stereotypes. And that’s just the women. Do not get me started on the men.
Then there’s a philosophical argument to be had here. We can all agree it’s wrong for men to beat up women. But this movie seems to make the claim – without much in the way of counterpoints being made – that it’s perfectly fine for women to beat up men. Because social justice. Or #MeToo. Or something, it’s unclear. This could be a viable approach, even without coherent and explicit debate, if the film engaged the lizard brain, and made the violence justifiable, even on a visceral level. Yet it fails to do that either. Instead we get a number of scenes which frankly border on the exploitative, offering a dubious counterpoint to the female empowerment narrative being pushed. Ugly camerawork and performances that, at best, do little more than propel forward the story, are other aspects which left me underwhelmed. It also ends in an abrupt and unsatisfying manner, as if Leslie eventually realized this was going nowhere. Shame it took him 44 minutes to reach that point.
Dir: Lewis Leslie
Star: Mia Paris, Paula Marcenaro Solinger, Carly Jones, Heath C. Heine


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
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 an attempt to add some new wrinkles to that old reliable, the rape-revenge genre. Unfortunately, there are too many problems and missteps to make this a worthwhile entry. Violet (Winkler) is an aspiring actress, whose dreams are shattered when she falls for a fake audition. She is lured into a basement, raped, and the resulting footage posted on a highly-dubious website. She’s clearly broken by the trauma, to the increasing worry of her mother (Burns). But hope is present in her growing relationship with Josh (Crowe), a young man she met at the lake where Violet likes to sit, trying to find some measure of peace. However, how will he react when he finds out about her other life, in which she is making those responsible for the assault, pay.
I am old enough to remember when Suvari was playing jailbait in American Beauty. It is therefore a bit disturbing to find her here, taking on the role of the mother of a seventeen-year-old daughter. Where has the time gone? But then, it has now been approaching 23 years since Beauty came out. This realization is probably more chilling than anything this technically competent, but almost entirely lacklustre thriller is able to deliver. It starts off with an interesting premise, and even has some not commonly-seen elements in its heroine. But the longer this goes on, the more it feels rote and by the numbers, without enough to differentiate it from other, better entries in the (more or less) Die Hard knock-off sub-genre.
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 
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 (
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.
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 