Tag: 2022

Firestarter (2022)

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★★★
“The fire-devil is back!”

I must admit: While I always found the premise for Stephen King’s 1980 novel Firestarter interesting, I never read the book. 500 small-printed pages are just too much for me. The story itself shares some of its DNA with Carrie, with the difference that this here is about a younger child, not an adolescent, and instead of telekinesis the girl knows pyrokinesis, meaning she can create fire from nowhere and control it. It could be argued that King was just kind of re-using ideas from Carrie, making less of an effort to create something original as he did with other material. Opinions on the story seem to be split. Some think it’s a great novel, of the usual King quality; others think it’s a typical work from the time when King was writing as if he were on the run, and striking while the iron was hot (honestly, I don’t really see he has slowed down so much over the years).

Anyway, the novel became a 1984 movie, with all the qualities and flaws a Stephen King adaptation had in the 80s, featuring then-child star Drew Barrymore (gosh, I just realize while I’m typing that she is as old as I am!) a considerable ensemble of actors, a soundtrack by Tangerine Dream and – for its time – impressive pyro special effects. The film’s reception was lukewarm but it went on to become a success on VHS. In Germany, the title translates as “The Firedevil”, which in German means somebody who likes to play with fire. A sequel, albeit unrelated in story and without any King input, came out as as a TV miniseries in 2002 to similarly questionable results as far as fan opinions go. The main character was still Charlie, but now all grown-up. Strangely, the villain of the original piece was still alive there which made zero sense if you witnessed his demise at the end of the movie.

So here is the 2022 version, produced by Blumhouse, a studio with a very good reputation for first-class horror movies today, and also gave us great non-genre movies like Whiplash. Martha de Laurentiis, co-producing wife of the late Dino de Laurentiis (involved in a number of King adaptations in the 80s) has a producer’s credit, although she died last year at cancer. Akiva Goldsman who was chosen to direct the movie before being replaced, also got a producing credit, which doesn’t necessarily mean much nowadays.

The new Firestarter does its best not to just repeat the story beats of the 1984 movie, though by doing so is less close to the original King novel. The beginning of the movie shows young girl Charlie (Armstrong) in school being bullied by one of those ugly red-haired boys we all know from 1970s movies (nasty then, nasty now – talk about discrimination against red-haired children!). It reminded me quite a bit of Carrie, though it’s just a few scenes and serves little more purpose than to illustrate Charlie’s problems in general.

Her parents (Efron – suddenly grown up; wasn’t he just a boy yesterday? – and Lemmon) have been on the run for a long time: After being involved in an experiment that gave them paranormal powers,the secret government organisation that conducted these experiments, “The Shop”, want their child. Therefore – and a bonus point to the screenwriter for taking modern communication and tracking opportunities into account – they have been staying away from the Internet and mobile phones. I was therefore surprised when Charlie in a key scene of the movie suddenly came up with one.

These forces are on the track of the family again, after an outbreak of fire in school and Charlie burns the arms of her mother in a fit of rage. It’s funny to compare the latter scene in old and new movies. Nothing much worth mentioning happened to the mother in the original, but a great fuss was made about it. Here, she has what feel like at least second-degree burns, and the parents behave as if it were nothing in front of Charlie. Let’s go have some ice-cream! What kind of message is being sent to young parents, folks?

The Shop is now under the management of Captain Hollister (Gloria Reuben), who send apparently disgraced operative John Rainbird (Greyeyes) to get Charlie back. She is seen by Hollister as having great potential, though original leader of the experiment, Doctor Wanless (Kurtwood Smith in a cameo), fears an unmeasurable threat from the girl’s potential when she comes into full control of her power. Charlie’s mom resists Rainbird and dies in the confrontation, causing father and daughter to go on the run, where Dad’s ability to influence people telepathically comes in handy.

They find sanctuary with recluse Manders (John Beasley), only to be discovered by the police and Rainbird shortly after. While Charlie gets away, her father is caught and is brought back to the lab. After training to control her powers in the woods, a scene that feels two minutes long, Charlie comes to free her Dad. Although “The Shop” does its best to get her under control, the girl prevails, burning all those who threaten her.

Firestarter is a strange beast with a difficult task: Retaining the core of the original story but not being to close too the orignal movie. Paying tribute to current political correctness, yet not changing the original material too much. For most of the time, they do fine, I’d say. Some changes did catch my eye: the conflict between the parents wasn’t there, as far as I remember, in the original movie. The mother wants Charlene to train so she can control her powers, the father would rather she suppress them, for who knows what may come out of them being released? In contrast, the original spent more time with Dad and daughter in the lab, the evil Rainbird slowly gaining Charlie’s confidence in order to kill her when appropriate. It went more for slow menacing tension – also the approach of King’s novel – while this plays more as a “fugitives-on-the-run” scenario.

But the biggest change is the John Rainbird. In the original, he was played by elderly over-weight “evil uncle” George C. Scott. In no circumstance would he ever have been considered a Native American. Here, he is played by Canadian and Cree actor Michael Greyeyes, though Rainbird in the books was Cherokee. Perhaps because Hollywood thinks it can’t allow villains to be an ethnic minority, the character is slightly changed: Rainbird works for the organisation, because it is suggested they are too powerful. He himself was betrayed by them, and seems to have been part of the experiment, gaining certain supernatural powers. Here, Rainbird helps Charlie, ready to accept his death. Strangely, she spares his life and while the building behind her burns, takes his hand and they walk away. Make out of that ending what you want: it’s definitely not King’s.

It seems a lot of critics disliked the new movie. As a whole I can’t condemn taking a different approach to the story. I’m not even sure if I would call the new movie “woke”, though it definitely has woke moments. Director Keith Thomas, does fine, I think. The movie is atmospheric, has more focus on the parents and their differences over how to raise their daughter, and there is some genuine tension, e. g. when Rainbird confronts Charlie’s mother. What really astonished me is the musci by John Carpenter and his son Cody. Yes, that Carpenter. I don’t know how they got him to do the music: he directed the King adaptation Christine in the 80s and was the original choice for that Firestarter, so that may have something to do with it.

What’s my judgement? The new movie isn’t bad. Acting-wise I’d even say it’s better; I especially prefer Michael Greyeyes’s performance to the ham-fisted approach of Scott. But if I had to chose… I’d stick with the original. That had the “oh, she is so cute” Barrymore factor and a really, really impressive cast, which this movie only can dream of. The pyro FX party at the end is much more impressive than the toned-down finale here. There is also the “zeitgeist factor” to consider. In 1984 you could still accept and be fascinated by the idea of a girl who can create and control fire. In 2022, with Pyro, Dark Phoenix or Sunspot doing similar or more impressive things, Charlie’s powers just aren’t as fascinating as they used to be.

Dir: Keith Thomas
Star: Zac Efron, Ryan Kiera Armstrong, Sydney Lemmon, Michael Greyeyes

The Ledge

  By

★★½
“Falls off sharply.”

Despite the above, there are some strong positives to be found here. First off, the Serbian mountain landscapes are beautiful, and the cinematography does them justice. Free climbing, the focus here, is an innately tense pastime, with the risk of serious injury or death present at any second. Again, the photography gets this over well, with some of the shots capturing the heights involved, to the point of almost inducing vertigo in the viewer. Finally, Ashworth is entirely convincing in her portrayal of free climber Kelly. She has the right, well-defined physique, muscled particularly around the shoulders, and exudes a quiet confidence in her own abilities, which is what you would expect. That’s the good news. 

Unfortunately, there’s the rest of the film, beginning with a plot that would be overachieving if it reached the level of dumb, and is little more than a series of eye-roll generating cliches strung together. Kelly and her gal pal are prepping for a weekend’s climbing on the anniversary of a tragic accident which claimed the life of Kelly’s fiancé, just as he was about to propose to her. Four jocks roll up at the next cabin, and before you can say “date rape”, the pal has fallen off a cliff, and is finished off by the group’s leader, Josh (Lamb). Becky happens to video that, and as they chase her, starts climbing the rock face to escape. The only way out is up, except Josh and crew take an alternate route up. It leaves Becky stuck on a narrow outcrop, with bad guys above, and a thousand-foot drop below.

Oh, and I didn’t even mention the snakes, which according to the movie, are a bigger threat to rock climbers, than plummeting to your doom. Or the conveniently abandoned tent on the ledge, just a few feet below a far better site. The whole thing is littered with this kind of contrivance. Worse still is Josh – by which I mean, both the character, and the ridiculously hammy performance by Lamb. It comes over as a douchebag version of Ryan Reynolds, and could not be more an Obvious Psycho, if he had been running a motel and talking about his mother a lot.

Some scenes are effective, mostly the simpler ones, pitting Becky against the implacable combination of the rock-face and gravity. If only the makers had realized what they have, does not need to be dressed up in painful and artificial ways to generate excitement. All you need is some initial device to get Becky onto the wall; everything thereafter is needless window-dressing. This includes the back-story of Becky’s boyfriend, and the convoluted saga of Josh’s love-life off the mountain, neither adding an iota to the entertainment value. Ford also directed Never Let Go, which used its exotic location and isolated heroine to slightly better effect. But if I never see Lamb’s irritating hamminess ever again, I will be entirely fine with that.

Dir: Howard J. Ford
Star: Brittany Ashworth, Ben Lamb, Nathan Welsh, Louis Boyer

Interceptor

  By

★½
“Why Netflix is a joke.”

Two minutes in, Chris turned to me and said, “Is this an Asylum movie?” Oh, that she had been right, for the net results might have been more entertaining. This is truly the dumbest film I have seen in a very long time. It feels like a throwback in content to about thirty years ago, except with a script that makes your average Cannon product look like Citizen Kane. It’s set on a missile interceptor station in the middle of the Pacific, to which Captain J. J. Collins (Pataky) has just been assigned again. Barely has she dropped her bags off in her cabin, when word comes that their sister base in Alaska has gone dark, and terrorists have stolen 16 Russian ICBMs. Before you can say “shitty Die Hard knockoff”, trust-fund kid Alexander Kessel (Bracey) shows up, intent on removing America’s last line of defense. It’s up to J.J. and plucky SigInt guy Rahul Shah (Mehta) to prevent them – or the terrorists will have won, literally. 

Writer-director Reilly is, I believe, a popular author of thrillers. I say that, because there’s no evidence here he could write his way out of a paper-bag, with so many, painfully obvious plot-holes. The way the terrorists pointlessly go public with their theft. Kessel and his minions kill everyone on the platform except J.J. and Shahul, keeping them alive for no reason. The villain has codes which will sink the base, yet doesn’t use them until only 30 minutes are left. I could go on. It’s a parade of eye-rolling inanity, made worse by cringeworthy dialogue, such as the line shoehorned in to explain the lead actress’s heavy Spanish accent. The final nail is the irrelevant wokeness, from J.J’s sexual harassment past, through the redneck henchmen and her Muslim sidekick, to the female US President (who is completely useless, incidentally). If only Reilly had put as much thought into his script, as his virtue signalling. 

To be fair, I didn’t mind Pataky as a heroine, and the action is occasionally up to what I wanted. There’s a decent brawl with the female terrorist (played by stuntwoman Ingrid Kleinig), and a couple of imaginative deaths, including the novel use of a firearm. However, the rest of the performances are almost uniformly terrible, and the story had lost me entirely, well before the ridiculous finale. While Netflix Originals come in for a lot of criticism, I’ve enjoyed my fair share: The Old Guard was decent, and Extraction (starring Mr. Elsa Pataky, Chris Hemsworth, who cameos here) was as good as any action movie of 2020. Hell, I even enjoyed 6 Underground. So I’m no snob. This, however, was bad enough to have us reconsidering our subscription to the streaming service, once we polish off watching Stranger Things. With the price also increasing sharply, the reality is that you can find considerably better movies than this for free. Certainly, I’ve better things to do with my time and money. 

Dir: Matthew Reilly
Star: Elsa Pataky, Luke Bracey, Aaron Glenane, Mayen Mehta

Shut In

  By

★★
“Woman who talks through doors”

After Run Hide Fight, this is another film produced by political outlet The Daily Wire. This inevitably leads to reviews which are as much concerned with the leanings of the production company, which is annoying, albeit understandable. If the Huffington Post got into the movie business, I imagine the same thing would happen. But it also ignores the fact that you would have to look hard here, to find much indication of a political agenda. A considerably bigger issue is that it’s quite dull, with a heroine who spends much of the time living up to her apparent Native American name given above. Certainly, I hoped for more from this synopsis: “When a young mother is barricaded inside a pantry by her violent ex-boyfriend, she must use ingenuity to protect her two small children from escalating danger while finding an escape.”

The mom in question is Jessica (Qualley, the daughter of Andie McDowell), a recovering drug addict who is preparing to get out of town, and start a new life with adorable little moppet, Lainey (VanDette), and her toddler, Mason. Unfortunately, her plans are derailed by a troublesome door, and the arrival of her skeevy ex-boyfriend and father of Lainey, Rob (Horowitz), who is still very much under the control of his meth habit. Dodgier still is his skeevier pal, Sammy (Gallo, making his return to features after close to a decade), who has a very poor reputation, to put it mildly. An argument with Rob leads to Jessica being nailed inside the pantry, with her two children outside, Rob storming off promising to return when she has learned her lesson. Worse follows, with Sammy sleazing his way back. As a storm erupts, he poses an unspeakable threat to Lainey, who now also has to take care of Mason, under Jessica’s increasingly fraught instruction.

Especially in the first half, this means a lot of Jessica shouting through a door, and Lainey whining “I am hungry/am scared/need the toilet” in repetitive order. It gets old very quickly. Even though Gallo certainly makes for a slimy villain, the reality is that the film has locked itself in a confined space, along with its lead character. Neither of them are going anywhere for about the first hour. Caruso attempts to ramp up the tension by having everything threatening happen out of sight of both his heroine and the audience, but I never felt particularly concerned. This is a case where it felt like we needed a more direct approach to the threat. There’s also a weird religious subtext, which is neither prominent enough to be significant or objectionable. So I was left wondering what the point of it was.

Things do pick up, at least somewhat, for the final reel, where things are allowed out of the closet. Had the script worked on that basis from the start, this might have had a chance. Instead, it’s the very definition of “too little, too late.”

Dir: D.J. Caruso
Star: Rainey Qualley, Jake Horowitz, Luciana VanDette, Vincent Gallo

Everything Everywhere All at Once

  By

★★★½
“I’d have settled for two of three.”

This has been a long, long time coming. I’ve been a fan of Yeoh since seeing her Hong Kong starring debut, Yes, Madam, which came out all the way back in 1985. Over the years since, her career has had its ups and downs, including complete retirement after her marriage in the late eighties. She returned, and is the only actress to have appeared in two movies rated five stars here: Heroic Trio and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. But her career in Hollywood has been limited to sterling support roles, in both movies and television, encompassing everything from Bond film Tomorrow Never Dies through Star Trek: Discovery to Crazy Rich Asians. A starring role, appropriate to her talents, never seemed to come along. 

Until now. Thirty-seven years after Yes, Madam, and at the age of 59, this film finally puts Yeoh where she deserves to be: front and centre. Yet, perhaps partly due to how long I’ve been waiting for this, I must confess to being a bit disappointed this is not a classic to match the titles listed above. Oh, it certainly has its moments, and Yeoh is as good as expected. However, its 139-minute running-time feels more a curse than a blessing. The concept at its core is almost infinite in scope, and I did feel the movie was trying to include all of it. Less could have been more, with a targetted approach preferable to the relentless overload adopted by the makers, which left me feeling as if I was drinking from a fire-hose.

The multiverses here literally rotate around Evelyn Wang (Yeoh), who runs a laundromat teetering on the edge of failure, with her husband, Waymond (Quan). Their marriage is also failing, her relationship with her daughter, Joy (Hsu) is on rocky ground, and she has to go to an appointment with hard-ass IRS tax auditor Deirdre Beaubeirdra (Curtis). The last is where things kick off, as she is visited by a Waymond from an alternate universe, who tells Evelyn she is the only hope of foiling the evil Jobu Tupaki. That’s an alternate Joy, who has gone insane and created a black hole-like vortex which could destroy all the multiverses. Fortunately, Evelyn’s abject failings at life give her the ability to tap into all the skills and knowledge of the other, better versions of herself.

Like I said: almost infinite in scope. Apparently, co-writer/director Kwan was diagnosed with ADHD during the creative process: to be frank, it shows. While the imagination on view is admirable, the film bounces about between ideas at a ferocious rate, almost regardless of whether they deserve it. We spend an inordinate amount of time in a multiverse where everyone has long, floppy fingers. Yet there is also buttplug-fu, which is an example of the movie going places you’d never have expected could be so entertaining. Or a lengthy, surprisingly engrossing, scene in which two rocks in an otherwise lifeless multiverse have a conversation in captions. Because why not?

To the film’s credit, it never abandons its characters, and that helps keep it grounded. Albeit only just, on occasion the movie standing on its tippy-toes as it tries desperately to avoid being blown away by its own excesses. It’s perhaps telling that, despite all the film’s visual bluster, the most effective moment for me was among the simplest, one character telling another, “In another life, I would’ve been happy just doing laundry and taxes with you.” As such, Yeoh is the story’s heart, and gets to demonstrate her unquestionable acting talent. It has been fascinating to see the development of that, especially considering her lack of not just experience but any formal training. I mean, she first entered the field close to four decades ago, as a former Miss World contestant. How many of them eventually go on to get talk of an Oscar?

It’s as a result of this that I kept watching the film, because I genuinely cared what happened to Evelyn. I wanted to see her figure it all out and make peace with the various forces trying to tear her humdrum life apart. From that angle, it’s close to soap-opera, albeit an unusually effective one. Except, of course, the means by which that peace is potentially achieved, includes multiverse hopping, and fighting an evil version of your own daughter, who wields a gurgling plughole of doom. It’s the overlap between the mundane and bizarre where this finds its own voice. The problem is, it tries too hard to live up to the title. Sure, give us everything, everywhere. I’d just rather it hadn’t done so, all at once.

Yet, similarly, it leaves an awful lot of potential on the table. Why is kung-fu virtually the only talent Evelyn uses? Tap into a universe where she’s a cab driver, and give us an epic car-chase. Or the one where she’s a cat-burglar, for heist purposes. It’s not hard to come up with a dozen such threads. Perhaps the makers were constrained by their budget, a relatively cheap $25 million – less than Crazy Rich Asians. They do an admirable job of squeezing value out of it; again, the sheer pace probably helps, with your brain trying so desperately to keep up, it’s hard-pushed to pay attention to any of the finer details.

But I’m glad I won’t go to my grave with my final paid cinematic experience being Terminator: Dark Fate. [Though the two Neanderthals beside us, talking loudly and checking their phones throughout, really make me think we are done with theatres] The Daniels deserve credit for the obvious invention displayed, and this is the kind of original property I’m happy to support, over another sequel and/or shitty comic adaptation. I also must mention the supporting cast, who are uniformly great, particularly Hsu as both aggravated daughter and multiiverse threatening villainess [There’s also a cameo by another eighties Hong Kong action actress, Michiko Nishiwaki. Maybe she’ll get her own movie next?]. That it stars one of the most under-rated actresses in Hollywood, finally getting the opportunity she deserves, is alone reason enough to see this. Just don’t expect too much.

Dir: Dan Kwan, Daniel Scheinert
Star: Michelle Yeoh, Stephanie Hsu, Ke Huy Quan, Jamie Lee Curtis

Black Crab

  By

★★★
“Let slip the slogs of war…”

Rapace seems to be turning into a female version of Ryan Reynolds. By which I mean, it seems that hardly a month goes past without a new Netflix Original coming out starring her. Ryan had 6 Underground, Red Notice and The Adam Project. Noomi has given us What Happened to Monday, The Trip and, now, this. Still, much as with Reynolds, I’m happy to see her working regularly, and while the results may be a bit variable, they’re usually worth a look. This is no different, though I’m not sure whether its story, driven by a (largely generic) war in the Eastern half of Europe, is helped or hurt by its timing. On the one hand, it gives this a certain “ripped from the headlines” topicality. On the other, I largely watch movies to escape everyday life, not have my nose rubbed in it.

Rapace plays Caroline Edh, who was split up from her daughter in the war’s early stages and has never been able to find her in the years since, as the conflict has turned her homeland into a meat-grinder. Now a soldier, she gets talked into a perilous mission that could turn the tide of the war, with the promise that her child is on the far end of it. She’ll be part of a group of six, skating across a treacherous frozen archipelago in enemy territory, to deliver a package – with the usual, stern “Don’t dare open it” warnings – to a research facility.

I do wonder why they sent a group: it’s not as if the package is large. One person, the quickest skater going undercover, could potentially slide beneath the radar, when a platoon of soldiers attracts more attention. I suspect it’s simply so the various perils, of thin ice, enemy combatants and unfriendly locals, can thin the herd of the operation. Some of them are so thinly-drawn, the makers might as well have slapped a red shirt on them, and been done with it. However, it’s still an impressively filmed, brutal slog of a journey, across a hellish landscape, which will have you reaching for a warm blanket and cup of cocoa. This likely reaches its peak when the group stumble into an ice graveyard: it’s quite the imagery.

We are, of course, here for Rapace, who learned to skate and broke her nose during filming. Despite one of the ugliest hair-styles in her filmography, her performance, along with the visuals, keep things adequately interesting, when the plot and supporting characters often fail to do so. In particular, the last half-hour (though it runs 114 minutes, so there’s quite a lot before that point) is almost entirely predictable, with the big twist actually weakening the lead character, by making Edh seem too gullible for her own good. Consequently, the subsequent redemption feels a bit too much of an uphill struggle. And even a novice like me knows that skating uphill is a tough ask…

Dir: Adam Berg
Star: Noomi Rapace, Jakob Oftebro, Dar Salim, Ardalan Esmaili

The 355

  By

★★★
“Mission reasonably possible”

I went into this preparing to hate it. There had been red flags all over the place, such as star and producer Chastain coming out with comments about her movie like, “It’s very important for society. We’ve moved against the status quo, and we’re creating our own narrative for it. The film is, in some sense, a political act.” Uh-oh. No film is ever “very important for society.” It’s a film. The good news, however, is this is perfectly watchable without worrying about such things. While it may have been created as a female-led story, it’s much more identifiable as a generic spy romp, in which the protagonists roam the world in pursuit of some threatening item, on which the bad guys want to get their hands. Hooray for the equality of mediocrity!

In this case, Item X is a black box that lets its owner do anything at all on the Internet, from hacking emails to crashing planes. It was found in a raid on a Colombian drug lord’s lair, where it came into possession of a soldier who now wants to sell it. Initially, a deal is brokered to sell it to the CIA, and agent “Mace” Browne (Chastain) is sent to Paris to complete the transaction. However, the meeting goes badly wrong, so Browne has to team up with a United Nations of other intelligence operatives, to stop it falling into the wrong hands, which could bring about unspeakable horrors. Such as nobody being able to post their thoughts on Twitter.

It’s all rather predictable, and quite remarkable how, after being cut off by the CIA, Mace is still able to commandeer aircraft and whatever other resources she needs. As the tagline above suggests, it’s all more than a bit evocative of another spy franchise in tone, though in most ways, feels like a Good Value version thereof. Chastain isn’t quite Tom Cruise; Nyong’o isn’t Simon Pegg; and so on. There’s not a great deal of emotion to be found either. The only one who feels properly human is Cruz, and her character is a psychiatrist, unfortunately entangled in the operation, rather than a field agent. The others feel more like high-functioning AIs, programmed to do their jobs.

The action scenes, however, are thoroughly professional and well-staged. There are some early chases around Paris which are approaching top tier, and plenty of bullet-spraying action for the finale. Though Chris has asked me to inform you that, if you have a hand-to-hand fight on a balcony, the rules of action cinema require someone to go over the edge. She was disappointed by the wilful disregard to tradition shown here. In general though, this was acceptable entertainment, and outside of a couple of sentences of dialogue, did not seem obviously preachy. That title, however: painfully obscure, and not explained until far too late. Still, this likely did not deserve the dismal box-office fate which it suffered. Perhaps the audience’s refusal to buy tickets to see it was, in some sense, a political act?

Dir: Simon Kinberg
Star: Jessica Chastain, Penélope Cruz, Diane Kruger, Lupita Nyong’o