Nowhere

★★★
“Survival of the fittest.”

One of the shows we enjoy watching here is Alone, in which ten contestants are dropped off in a hostile location – typically chilly – with limited resources. The last one left standing wins $500,000. It’s a simple concept, yet endlessly fascinating. We sit on our comfortable couch, eating Doritos and passing comment on the failing of the competitors. Especially so when they are hoist by their own stupidity, such as losing their means of starting a fire. This feels not dissimilar, except rather than a survival expert, it’s a woman who finds herself thrown into utterly inhospitable circumstances, and forced to make do by any means necessary – not just for her own survival, but that of her new-born child.

The woman is the heavily pregnant Mia (Castillo), who is fleeing an uncertain present in Spain, hoping to get to Ireland, with her husband Nico (Novas). The route is supposed to involve them being sent in shipping containers along with other refugees, but almost from the off, things go wrong. Mia is separated from Nico; the rest of the occupants are gunned down; and then, just when Mia is on her way, the container is washed off the ship in a storm, leaving her afloat in the middle of the ocean. It’s leaking badly – bullet holes will do this – and even after she has addressed that immediate problem, she has to figure out how to survive, with only the contents of the container. Oh, and then she gives birth.

It is, of course, a very contrived set of circumstances, with the container offering a variety of potentially useful items, rather than being, say, entirely full of agricultural machinery. Similarly, her cell-phone has remarkable battery life and service coverage, though I have read a suggestion the calls she received were actually hallucinations. That might be a shame, as one of them certainly represents the film’s dramatic peak, an utterly heart-rending conversation. It was the point where I suddenly realized I had become invested in Mia’s fate, and cared. It came as a bit of a surprise, and is testament to a good performance from Castillo. Not least because for much of the time, she has nobody to act against except a new-born baby.

The scripting is less effective. As well as the convenience mentioned, the whole opening half-hour proves almost irrelevant. It sets up a scenario where resources have become so short, the government is killing off unproductive members of its own society. Let’s just say: I have questions, yet it serves no purpose in the movie, except to get Mia into her crate. Things improve once it does, and the film becomes a straight survival story, rather than trying to make (I presume) some kind of social point about… something. Not that this stopped me from sitting on my comfortable couch, eating Doritos and passing comment on Mia’s attempts to fish. If only she’d watched Alone, she’d have managed much better…

Dir: Albert Pintó
Star: Anna Castillo, Tamar Novas, Tony Corvillo, Mariam Torres

Hunt Club

★½
“Stupid hunts.”

Oh, dear. I appreciate that actors have to work, like everyone else. Van Dien, in particular, has a reputation in our house as someone whose name is not typically a badge of quality. But it’s sad to see Suvari is now apparently in the same career boat. I can only presume the offers aren’t exactly flooding in, if this is the work she has to take on. It’s another variant on the old Most Dangerous Game story-line. Here, it sees redneck entrepreneur Carter (Van Dien) luring in women with the promise of $100,000, while remaining vague on the details. Turns out the victims then are pursued through the forest and have to survive for 24 hours. Spoiler: they don’t.

Their latest prey is Cassandra (Suvari), who joins up after having a fight with her girlfriend, Tessa (Stojan), in the cafe where Carter and his teenage son Jackson (Peltz) are eating. This is going to be Jackson’s first hunt, though he’s… not exactly as enthusiastic about it as his father. I should not need to describe any plot elements further. If you’ve seen as many as one (1) of this kind of thing before, you’ll be able to predict almost every story beat to perfection. There is a twist, in regard to Cassandra and the motivation for her actions, which does at least explain some of the idiocy present. Otherwise, this is painfully predictable, and executed in a manner which is equally tedious, almost as if intended to suck away any tension.

It doesn’t help that none of the characters here rise about the most basic and banal of cliches, with the hunters the worst. Obviously, this kind of plot has an inevitable gender political subtext. That’s fine, except when, as here, the makers decide that’s insufficient, eschewing all subtlety to rub the audience’s face in it. Hence we get an extended sequence of Carter and the other hunters sitting around, spouting fringe subReddit BS, which could only be written by a true believer in toxic masculinity. For instance, someone actually wrote this: “We are men. We are primal, strong, sexual beings. We used to be the stronger sex.” I can state, with 100% certainty, I’ve never heard anyone speaking like that. Ever.

The women fare little better: the apparently “feminist” intent severely undermined by a relentless focus on having the women humiliated while scantily-clad. Five minutes of role-reversal at the end, accompanied – and I wish I were joking here – by a lesson in Greek mythology, does not cut it. The action is equally implausible, both in concept and execution, such as knives being thrown incredible distances into people’s foreheads, and any impact is nullified by the fact you have been given no reason to care about anyone involved. For much of the movie, Cassandra’s entire persona is “woman threatened by men”. That’s it. Don’t know about you, I need a little more depth of character – and  that turns out to be largely false. Even by the low standards of Van Dien’s filmography, give this one a wide berth.

Dir: Elizabeth Blake-Thomas
Star: Mena Suvari, Casper Van Dien, Will Peltz, Maya Stojan

Call Her King

★★½
“Tries hard to be Trial Hard

After the impressive surprise which was Jericho Ridge, I figured I should try out another BET Original movie and see how it fared. As the grade above should tell you, the answer is comparatively poorly. While technically adequate in most departments, it’s one of the more implausible Die Hard knockoffs I’ve seen. In a world where No Contest exists, that takes some doing. The high concept here is “Die Hard in a court-house” with Judge Jaeda King (Naughton) about to pronounce sentence in the trial of convicted murderer Sean Samuels (Mitchell). Barely has she said “death”, when the court is stormed by a force led by Sean’s brother Gabriel (Gross), a.k.a. “Black Caesar”.

King escapes the initial onslaught, along with Sean, his defense attorney, and Stryker (Messner), one of the courthouse guards. Gabriel, however, is not just interested in freeing his brother. He also puts the prosecuting attorney on trial in a kangaroo court, designed to prove the flaws and biases inherent in the system. Much of the film is therefore split between King and her group trying to figure out how to survive, as well as escape, and the courtroom side of things, where nasty little secrets are revealed, such as the prosecutor’s relationship to King having been more than professional. I will say, Miller does a good job of keeping both sides of the story moving forward. It would have been easy for the chattier portions to bring things to a halt: that doesn’t happen.

This aspect is certainly helped by a strong performance from Gross, who manages to avoid the obvious tropes of such a situation, and comes over as smart, well-spoken and committed. He’s no Alan Rickman of course; then again, who is? I found myself, if not quite on Gabriel’s side, at least seeing his point of view and his grounds for extreme action. The main problem is a failure to set King up as credible opposition. Before things kick off, there’s no reason to view her as an action heroine: all we see is her being easily beaten by her martial-arts teacher. Then, suddenly, she – or, rather obviously, Naughton’s stunt double – is kicking butt and spraying bullets around like a grizzled Army Ranger.

Okay, Naughton is far better than Anna Nicole Smith, though that’s a low bar for anyone to clear. She does okay with the dramatic side of things, though the script occasionally gives her little to work with. The broken relationship with her spouse feels like another element poorly lifted from Die Hard, and things like her overhearing another judge go full racist were so obvious as to trigger an eye-roll. Miller does have a nice visual eye, e.g. the shot of the attackers marching towards their target was a genuine stand-out, and there’s enough competence to stop it from being actively annoying. However, its script needed more work, and perhaps a better central concept, to succeed in an over-crowded field.

Dir: Wes Miller
Star: Naturi Naughton, Lance Gross, Jason Mitchell, Johnny Messner

Blue Eye Samurai

Jim: ★★★
Dieter: ★★★★
“You can’t die. You don’t know how.”

Plot. Mizu (Erskine) has a grudge. She’s a mixed-race young woman living in 17th-century Japan, a position which leaves her at the bottom of society. But she has dragged herself up to become an onna-musha, a warrior with ferocious sword skills, courtesy of Master Eiji (Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa), the blind swordsmith who raised her. Now, she’s on the hunt to take revenge on the man she believes is her father, Abijah Fowler (Branagh). He’s an Irish smuggler, who is upsetting the delicate balance of Japanese society, closed to foreigners, by importing firearms. He’s involved in planning a coup to overthrow the current shogun.

[Editor’s note: the original plan was for Dieter and I to review it independently, then combine the two pieces. But Dieter went into rather more detail! So most of what follows is his opinion, with my thoughts sprinkled as garnish, in italics]

I have to admit my opinion on this show has changed a couple of times while watching it. First, there was the enthusiasm of a Japan-based-action series with a female main character. After that I thought about the “wokeness” of the show (after all, it’s Netflix), something that hardly can be overlooked. And finally, I recognized the strong effort that went into the storytelling, the visual beauty, and small details of the show and realized that while definitely a “woke” story, these elements are neither too strong nor too dominant to destroy the genuine pleasure I had when watching it.

I liked this, but it’s probably fair to say I didn’t love it. I tend to have a blind-spot with regard to animated action. Personally, I find it’s a medium that dilutes the intensity of fight scenes, because it applies a distancing effect to it. I’m always aware that I’m watching drawings or pixels beating the heck out of each other, which is intrinsically going to be less impressive than people “really” doing so. If this had been live-action, and equally gory, it could have been awesome. There’s also a weird visual choice here in that Mizu’s nose is typically shadowed. This has the unfortunate effect of making her look to me either as if she has a bad head cold, or if she is a habitual alcoholic.

But first things first: despite its title and the location (Japan in 1657 in the Edo era) Blue Eye Samurai is – an American product, so certain allowances have to be made. While I do love a story of female persistence, this 8-part show pushes the limits of believability. We have to accept that, at a time when foreigners are forbidden to be in Japan, not only there is such a person living there, but also this man fathered a daughter. This means she is half-Caucasian, half-Japanese and therefore considered a “demon”, harassed by pure-blood Japanese who have never seen such a stranger in their country. She will then become a trained “samurai” – quotes used advisedly, as we’ll see – with the appropriate sword skills.

It’s a stretch, though still in the reign of possibility, since there have been, real swordswomen in Japan. That woman then going on a rampage, hell-bent on revenge for… well… her own creation? This does not make much sense to me. After all, should we not all be happy we exist? But then, my own life, like most, has been peaceful and harmonious. In contrast, the main character, Mizu, has led a life of misery, constantly been harassed, pursued with hatred, endangered and betrayed. It’s not difficult to imagine, if you grew up that way, you would sooner or later start to hate the man responsible for your very existence. Though strangely, she doesn’t seem to hold a similar grudge against the mother who gave birth to her,

Mizu’s path leads her to Ringo, the son of a innkeeper, who has no hands (remember, this is Netflix!). After being saved by her, he becomes her servant. There’s also Taigen, a samurai-in-training, who once lived in the same town as Mizu and almost succeeded in killing her as a child. After she beat him in battle, he feels his honour is insulted and follows Mizu to challenge her to a rematch. But his revenge has to wait. A further complication arises in Japanese noblewoman Akemi, who is in love with Taigen and would like to marry him. Though her father has other marriage plans and Taigen is not ready to marry her until he has regained his honor. None of them know (yet) that Mizu is a woman. And as Mizu mercilessly pursues her path of revenge, Ringo and Taigen become her allies, with some indication of a mutual attraction between Mizu and Taigen.

Blue Eye Samurai is a French-American animated show by Blue Spirit for Netflix, created by Michael Green (the screenwriter for Logan and Blade Runner 2049) and Amber Noizumi. They were inspired by their daughter, who was born 15 years ago with blue eyes. Noizumi spoke about how she, herself biracial, wondered what it would have been like to lived as a biracial person in 17th-century Japan, when Japan’s borders were closed to the outside world and strangers from abroad would have no chance to be accepted in society. Another, unconfirmed inspiration might be British navigator William Adams who travelled to Japan in 1600, and was called “the blue-eyed samurai”. He also inspired the ever-popular series Shogun, which Netflix just remade. What a coincidence.

Other influences, according to Noizumi, were movies such as Kill Bill, Lady Snowblood, and… Yentl, Barbara Streisand’s musical about a Jewish woman who wants to study and has to take on a male identity. It has been confirmed by Noizumi that Mizu was inspired by Clint Eastwood’s break-out Man with No Name role in the famous Dollars trilogy by Sergio Leone, This fits, because the show often reminded me less of a typical Japanese jidaigeki (historical drama) or chanbara (sword-fighting movie with a historical background), but more a Western in disguise. If the mix between East and West was intended, whether this makes it “the best of two worlds” or a travesty is up to you. But it’s not really the first of its kind, considering Tom Cruise’s The Last Samurai.

I personally don’t like it when words like “emancipation” or “discrimination” are thrown around in relation to a show mainly meant to entertain. But in this case, they are justified given the very basis of the show, in medieval Japan. This setting is different to current Western countries, being one with a mostly homogeneous population, traditional conservative values and what feminists nowadays like to call “patriarchal”, as a background for a story of female emancipation and racist discrimination. You may question what “woke propaganda” Netflix is tossing at an innocent viewer this time. But it’s a relief that any messaging comes, not in heavy-handed preaching, as is typical for many Netflix shows, but mostly carefully integrated into the show, rather than feeling like they were bolted on.

The show certainly ticks all the diversity check-boxes with its characters. We have a biracial female who taught herself everything, a repressed (though in the context of the era “spoiled” might be more accurate?) lord’s daughter, a helpful assistant born with no hands, a blind sword-maker, while an old white man is the perverse, cruel villain, and women have no say in society, serving as servants or prostitutes. Did I forget anything? Despite it all, this feels acceptable given the time and place in which the story occurs.

As noted, in choosing this kind of story, time and place, the creators often stretch the limits of believability. In particular, with Akemi, the daughter of a powerful lord who wants to marry her to the son of the shogun. She is in love with Taigen, so absolutely resists that idea. Akemi comes across the entire series as enormously stubborn, resisting advice and always wanting to get her way. I have to shake my head in disbelief, knowing that the idea of “marriage for love” was in those times rare both in Japan and Europe (Historians say the idea of what we call today “romantic love” was born around 1850). People married due to sharing social class, to keep property within a circle of families, or because their business-partnered parents decided so, sometimes even before they were born.

Even more unbelievable for the time, is the idea a Japanese woman would have been allowed to voice her wishes or opinion in the blunt manner depicted here. Quite honestly, I think if any woman would have behaved so disrespectfully to an older man, giving strong, vocal objections or even slapping the shogun’s son, she would have immediately been beheaded or drowned in the nearest pond. The wish of the creators to have another strong female character in the show backfires here. Akemi is what you would expect a modern, Western young woman to be, not a Japanese woman from the Edo era. This is fan-fiction at best, bad research at worst.

Probably my least favourite aspect was this significant side-plot involving noble samurai Taigen (Barnet), and his true love, the Princess Akemi (Branda Song), who is about to be married off against her will. Neither of those characters seemed significant, and it felt like this sometimes became an excuse for male-bashing. Brothel madam Kaji (Ming-Na Wen) was the worst for that: look, nobody is keeping you a prostitute. Get out of the profession or quit complaining about your customers. Oh, and if men are bad, white men as embodied by Fowler are the absolute worst.

A word of warning to the uninitiated. The show does not hold back in the depiction of violence. The slicing-off of extremities sometimes made me wonder if the victims’ bodies were made out of styrofoam, and I also found a bit excessive, the arterial blood spray. How many litres does the human body contain? The same goes for sexuality, though less often. I personally have seen more extreme things, but this is Western animation, and the audience may not be quite prepared for the graphic content. But I guess anyone going to watch the show would probably know beforehand it is not a show for children. You wouldn’t expect kid-friendly content from an Akira Kurosawa samurai movie, wouldn’t you?

This was not a problem for me. Indeed, I would have been disappointed had it been any other way! The “garden hose” approach to blood has long been a mainstay of Japanese cinema, certainly back as far as the early seventies and the Lone Wolf & Cub films – a staple of Western VHS stores under the title of Shogun Assassin. Realism isn’t a factor, and this is an area where animation can really push the pedal to the metal, being unconstrained by the limits of latex and Karo syrup.

Ah, yes… samurai, that’s a key word: after all, it’s in the title and is mentioned several times. I should stress here, Mizu definitely is no samurai by the traditional definition. He would usually act in service of a daimo, a feudal landlord serving the shogun. This usually comes with certain obligations and behaviour that would be seen as a code of honor. Mizu quite definitely doesn’t fit the description. However, many of Kurosawa’s “samurai” don’t either, including The Seven Samurai or the character Toshiro Mifune plays in Yojimbo and Sanjuro (which, cycling back, served as inspiration for Eastwood’s Man with No Name). But the writers of the show were really smart, and address it within the story. When Ringo complains she doesn’t act like a samurai would, she turns and angrily shouts: “I never said I am one.” It’s a sign of well thought-out screenwriting, and I like it very much. Kudos to the storytellers: now, will they make the show eventually deliver what the title promises?

I was less impressed with the music. More than once the people responsible seemed to think, “As long as it’s cool, everything is fine” – an attitude I personally don’t agree with at all. For example, in a training montage of Mizu, the famous “Battle Without Honor Or Humanity” by Tomoyasu Hotei plays. Sure, a cool tune from a Japanese composer. But it’s modern music and – though first used somewhere else – so closely associated with Kill Bill, it really felt like a misstep. Other popular pieces, e.g. by the Black Cats or Metallica, have even less justification. You tell a story in 17th century Japan, please apply music that fits the time period. And partly the show feels like a check-list of everything you ever heard or saw in the West about classic Japanese culture, from bunraku (classical puppet theatre) through geishas, samurai, Zen-like philosophy, sword-making, kimonos, calligraphy and so on and on. You name it, they have it.

With regard to the cultural depictions, I wasn’t happy with the fact these obviously Japanese characters were speaking in English, to the point I even checked for a Japanese dub option (no luck). It felt like the creators sent out a casting call for any Hollywood voice talent with somewhat Asian origins, e.g. Song, born in California to Thai parents, and having Kenneth Branagh putting on a dodgy Irish accent doesn’t help. Were all genuinely Celtic actors unavailable? 

Episode 6 really knocked my socks off. It played virtually like a computer game: think Tomb Raider’s Lara Croft going through different levels of the game, plus elements from Resident Evil for good measure. I’m not saying it was bad. so much as unexpected. It’s also a point when it became harder to suspend my disbelief concerning Mizu’s abilities. I mean, how many people can you still fight, after one of your feet gets perforated? Or fighting a dozen-plus armed men without a weapon? Or carrying a man on her back, hanging from her sword on a stone wall, then climbing with said sword in her mouth (!) to safety on higher ground? Are we really sure she is not the child of a supernatural monster? I’m willing to believe this woman is exceptional, but this was a bit much. Mizu gets dangerously close to the superheroes of popular comic-book movies who can do anything, and usually do.

Part 6 was my favourite of the entire show, because it removed all the extraneous elements (hello, Taigen, Ringo and Akemi!), leaving it a blow-dart episode – all it had was point, simply Mizu fighting her way inexorably towards her goal. Which was what I came here to see, frankly.

What saves the character’s depiction again and again, is the makers never make it easy for her. She bleeds a lot over the course of the story. Mizu is shown making mistakes, and is not a hero since, as much as you sympathize with her goal, it is in the end selfish. I attribute the fact she survives this season to her remarkable physical skills, absolute die-hard dedication to her self-set cause, the help of her (very often smarter) allies and an enormous portion of luck. Which… works for me, though I’d have wished for a bit more realism in a show that explicitly is not fantasy. What is impressive is the visual style. A lot of work went into the landscapes, the backgrounds, and probably researching how ancient Japanese houses, buildings and temples looked. There are a lot of little details that you may overlook when watching the show for the first time. Also, as expected, the voice performances by actors such as Erskine, Takei, Branagh, Tagawa and many others are excellent.

I agree, the animation was great, especially in the action scenes, which were probably as good as anything I’ve seen this side of a Miyazaki movie. Fluid, and assembled in a way that certainly seemed cinematic. It was often easy to forget you were watching animation, and that’s close to the highest praise I can give the medium. Plot-wise, the main storyline was also excellent. I loved the fact that Mizu is single-mindedly focused on her revenge. That it might help avoid the Shogun being overthrown is utterly irrelevant to her.

It must be said that Mizu herself is a character ‘work in progress’. As mentioned, less a hero, than driven by years of abuse, mistreatment, non-acceptance, anxiety and sheer hatred. I guess any little boy with red hair and glasses who was harassed in class can understand her. The feeling of not being part of society or a group, of being rejected due to just being how you are, is something many people will identify with. Though again: does it justify a violent rampage on a merciless one-woman war against the person that fathered you? Hardly. The feeling is softened by the fact Abijah Fowler, who may be her biological father, is a real piece of abhorrent trash. He is a disgusting, almost inhuman, pervert, who deserves his just deserts.

Interestingly, the final fight between Mizu and Fowler is the catalyst for the fire of 1657 which devastated Edo (today’s Tokyo). Perhaps the message here is, if you follow only your own egotistic trail – Mizu’s wish for revenge and Fowler’s to take over Japan – you risk turning into a destructive force that causes more harm than good. I hope Mizu might realize her thirst for revenge is not the best motive, but rather acting to prevent the mayhem Fowler and his people would bring to the world if allowed to run it. This would make Mizu a real heroine and earn her my respect. Perhaps indicators for such a development can be spotted when Mizu decides to save her “frenemy” Taigen from death. If the show is willing to follow this developing character trait, it could evolve into something very beautiful and extra-ordinary. We will see.

It ends on something of a cliff-hanger, without much resolved. Yet where it’s going has me genuinely interested, and it’s quite possible the (already announced) second season may end up addressing most of the issues. In particular, some of the more annoying characters look likely to be left behind!

In a time where female protagonists get everything they need or want on a platter, without having to do the hard work, make difficult decisions or sacrifices, a character like Mizu feels different. She has character flaws, feels pain and has to become a better person, not just to achieve her own goals, but better the world around her. That is what popular fiction needs right now, and Hollywood screenwriters should take notice. That’s how you should write a character: flawed, not perfect. If your character can already do everything and is perfect you end up with boring, bland characters like Rey or Captain Marvel. So, while still a bit too superwoman and “Xena-ish” for me, Mizu is a big step in the right direction. Despite some complaints, the show as a whole exceeds the large majority of current female-centered TV and films. I hope it might inspire other producers to learn from its example. This is how you do female empowerment right, without hitting both sexes of your audience on the head with messages or propaganda.

Creators: Amber Noizumi and Michael Green
Star (voice): Maya Erskine, Masi Oka, Kenneth Branagh, Darren Barnet

Cascade

★★
“Falls off.”

It’s kinda interesting to compare this to Mercy Falls. Both concern an ill-fated trip into a scenic wilderness – all trees and waterfalls – by a group of friends, which goes increasingly off the rails. The main difference is, in Mercy, the call was coming from inside the house, as it were. Here, the threat is definitely external. The target is four friends, just finished high school and about to enter the world at large. Jesse (Oulette) will work as a mechanic; his girlfriend Alex (Waisglass) wants to leave their small town and go to college, but hasn’t plucked up the courage to tell Jesse yet. Making matters more complex, her father is part of the Dark Saints, a biker gang and generally criminal enterprise. 

This matters, because the Dark Saints just lost a shipment of drugs, the plane carrying it having crashed in a remote region of a nearby national park. Their minions are on the hunt for it, but – what are the odds? – Alex and her friends are first to stumble across it. A discussion ensues about what to do, but it’s all rendered moot after they cross paths with the minions. Before you can say, “implausible plot line,” Jesse has broken his leg and he, plus another of the quartet, pregnant pal Em (Laflamme-Snow) have been captured by the bad guys. It’s up to Alex to figure out what to do, as the only member of the group left able to operate freely.

Which is fortunate, since she’s also the smartest of the people wandering in the woods, and it’s not even close. Let’s just say, pond life would likely rate second or third place among these people, and I’m including both the hikers and the minions in those rankings. Seeing her mental wheels spinning as she out-thinks and outmanoeuvres her enemies is one of the few pleasures this offers. But it’s like watching a grand master playing chess against a pigeon. The only genuine and credible threat is her Dad and the Dark Saints, and they don’t show up until the very end of proceedings. With Alex’s witless friends, dumb and/or unlikable, the ones in peril, the stakes here aren’t enough to engage the viewer either. 

I will say, the film does look half-decent, with Diego Guijarro’s cinematography popping nicely off the screen, and the Canadian backdrop is scenic. But too often, the film pulls its punches, whether it’s a character leaping off the waterfalls, depicted with them simply vanishing out of sight, or a pivotal car crash in which it appears no vehicles were actually harmed. This might as well be a TVM, with only the potty-mouths of some inhabitants meriting more than a PG rating. It’s all blandly innocuous, and despite Waisglass’s best efforts, it never gels. Things like Em’s pregnancy, for instance, feel like an afterthought, which goes nowhere and seems like nothing more than a cheap ploy to get audience sympathy. Memo to the film-makers: it didn’t work. 

Dir: Egidio Coccimiglio
Star: Sara Waisglass, Joel Oulette, Sadie Laflamme-Snow

Night Train

★★
“Not trucking good.”

Danielle Ryan’s quest for a movie worthy of her talents meets another swing and a miss. I guess you have to give credit to this one: it is at least trying to go in a different direction, making the Mexican cartel the good guys. For as well as their… less salubrious activities, they’re shipping pharmaceuticals into the US, and undercutting Big Pharma, by selling them to the needy at lower prices. #SoBrave Needless to say, this can’t stand, so word comes down to FBI supervisor Connoll (Sergei), who puts agent Jaylynne Jackson (Baird) on the case. Except, you wonder how much he wants to help, since she is an alcoholic burnout, with PTSD resulting from her stint in the military.

The target is Holly McCord (Ryan), who might also be a vet – to be honest, my attention kinda lapsed. She is trucking the imported drugs to the distribution hub in Las Vegas, using her souped-up vehicle. But only because it gives her access to the medicine her sick son needs. Her contact, Renzo Romeo (Haapaniemi) was initially unconvinced, but McCord’s ability to get the job done showed him she isn’t just a girl – a point the film practically belabours. That, however, can’t stop Holly from getting ensnared deeper in the crime web, as Jaylynne closes in, both ends threatening to destroy everything Holly cares about. Which is basically her son, so she decides to make a break for the border with him and Renzo.

I’ll take misleading posters for $400, please, Alex. I am fairly sure – despite the attention thing mentioned above – that Holly never picks up a gun at any point, even during the final face-off with Jaylynne. Indeed, in terms of action, this is considerably more subdued than you’d expect. I was thinking there would at least be some hot car chases here, and the movie largely fails to deliver on that front either. It’s more of a thriller than an action film, and doesn’t work particularly well as that. If it had kept to the battle between noble criminal and ignoble cop, it might have worked, since both characters are interesting – even if Jaylynne would, in reality, have been tossed out of the FBI.

However, the film throws too much extraneous stuff in there which is either not needed, or plain bad writing. I mean, if you have to use a sick child as maternal motivation, that’s simply lazy. We also get Holly’s relationship with her father, Jaylynne’s PTSD, the creepy attraction the Las Vegas head has for Holly, etc. etc. When the two women finally meet in the desert, the battle-hardened FBI agent ends up falling to her knees and weeping, then letting Holly go, after a stern lecture from the smuggler. No, really. The words,”Who writes this crap?” may have passed my lips at that point. Some day, Ryan (and, indeed, Baird) will hopefully find a script that matches her abilities. Today is not that day.

Dir: Shane Stanley
Star: Danielle C. Ryan, Diora Baird, Paul Haapaniemi, Ivan Sergei

God is a Bullet

★★★★
“God, faith, mayhem and a lot of blood”

To be honest, I never read Boston Teran’s novel. I wasn’t aware of the story until this movie came out here on DVD – but then the book was also never released in my country. I’ve every intention to read it and have already ordered it in English. However, I can’t make any comparisons between the book and the movie adaptation, directed by Nick Cassavetes, son of John Cassavetes.

It seems that when Teran’s novel came out in 1999, it caused quite a stir in Americas crime literature circles. Most agreed about the literary quality of the book: it won several crime novel awards and was nominated for even more. At the same time, its dark outlook on life, as well as the strong violence, were criticized. Teran’s style has been compared to that of Hunter S. Thompson, Jim Thompson and Cormac McCarthy. The author himself, who writes many different sorts of novels, is seen as some kind of mystery: few people seem to know him personally and he doesn’t give many interviews. But maybe he is just not interested in being a public personality (and why should he?), constantly standing in the limelight as some “star authors” do.  The movie rights were quickly bought by Hollywood and Nick Cassavetes planned an adaptation.

It seems to have been a passion project for him. But for whatever reason, it needed a quarter of a century until the movie, filmed in 2021 in Mexico City and New Mexico, would see the light of day. The main character is Bob Hightower (Coster-Waldau, best known as Jamie Lannister in Game of Thrones), a police officer searching for his daughter. She was abducted by a violent sect who also killed his ex-wife and her husband. A former member of the sect, Case Hardin (Monroe) declares herself ready to help him. According to her, he would never have a chance to find the gang by official means, without his daughter getting killed immediately. Bob accepts her assistance, though doesn’t know how trustworthy Case is. Does she really just want to help him rescue his daughter, from the fate that Case herself experienced 12 years ago? Or does she have other motives?

That’s the story in a nutshell. But it’s much more complicated than that, and you also shouldn’t expect this to be a non-stop action movie: it isn’t. I think you could maybe call it a road movie. The search for the young girl, while actually leading there in the end, is more a “McGuffin”, in that it moves the main protagonists forward – but under the surface, a different story is being told. There is an evaluation or discussion about faith, belief, God and values between Bob and Case. He is a believer in God and Christian convictions, while she is essentially atheist. Inevitably, they clash in the beginning until they develop an understanding. They come from two different sides of the spectrum. It’s the cruel descent into a man-made hell, where there is hardly any law except what you make for yourself, like an old-time Western, which makes them partners who rely on and save each other again and again.

It’s the most fulfilling part of the movie. In a way, Case is Bob’s guarding angel; she knows about those people, how they behave, how to deal with them, also the danger that they embody as human life has hardly any value for them. Bob goes “undercover” to find his daughter which also means he has to look and appear like these people, so gets a full-body tattoo by “The Ferryman” (Foxx in a larger supporting role). The aim is to contact the sect, whose cult leader Cyrus (Glusman) is a specific piece of human scum, and deal with him. All of what has happened ties back to Bob’s father in law and his superior at the police office, though he doesn’t know this.

It’s an exciting and I’d even say great piece of film work, though regrettably, will probably never get the attention it deserves. As far as I can see the film never ran in German cinemas, and only I was barely aware of the movie coming out on DVD and Blu-Ray. As the movie wasn’t produced by one of the big studios, the money for marketing might not have been quite there, I assume. The film was criticized for the amount and intensity of violence and so-called misogyny, due to the fact that the movie doesn’t hold back. But bad things happen to everyone in this story, regardless if you are male or female, black or white. In that respect the film is truly democratic, mistreating everyone equally. There are no safe spaces for anyone here.

While I personally have seen worse, a little word of warning. The movie includes rapes, vicious murders, child prostitution, drug addiction, poisonous snakes, slashed throats, head-shots, and people getting killed with flame throwers or suffocated with a plastic bag. You name it, the movie has it. That said, the depiction of all the carnage listed is not gratuitous. I never had the feeling that Cassavetes indulged in violence for violence’s sake. However, if you belong to the more squeamish, this might maybe not be the movie for you.

That said, the movie feels honest in showing a different side of America: the ugly, dark side you usually don’t see in all these feel-good Hollywood movies anymore. You get the sense this is about real people experiencing real pain. Despite the violence, that is stretched over two and a half hours, giving the movie a certain kind of calmness and tranquility. Cassavetes gives his characters time to develop and it pays off handsomely. Scenes can breathe, and unlike a lot of movies today, it’s not all cut-to-the-chase. In the end, Bob and Case are just two lonely people who find each other, during their journey through backwoods towns and the desert, a trip that has something of a cathartic quality.

In the end – and that’s why it’s here – it’s in the main Case’s story. Yes, Bob hopes to find his daughter but he always appears a bit bland compared to her fascinating, broken character. The movie begins and ends with her. There are flashbacks and you start to realize that she is not just lost, she has been robbed of her childhood, that no one really cares for her. She may be on a journey to her own death as Case has no real place that she can call home. The whole depiction reminds me of characters like Revy from Black Lagoon or Lisbeth Salander. Or maybe it’s just my imagination running wild.

In any case, I was highly impressed by Maika Monroe’s performance and the movie as a whole. I personally had no problem with the depicted violence, and think this movie deserves more exposure. All told, if you want to see something different from the typical Hollywood entertainment, this might be of interest.

Dir: Nick Cassavetes
Star: Maika Monroe, Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, Jamie Foxx, Karl Glusman 

 

Robotica Destructiva

★★
“Technically marvellous. But only technically.”

To bring out one of my go-to phrases, if I was eleven years old, and hopped up off my face on candy-floss, this would probably be one of my favorite movies. Instead, it’s the kind of film which apparently caused my brain to shut off as some kind of defense mechanism. I’m not kidding. Ten minutes into my first viewing attempt, I suddenly fell asleep. I think my mind may have experienced the cerebral equivalent of a blue screen of death and ran out of memory, forcing a shutdown. For this is just an insane overload of a movie, all the more so considering it was a labour of love, assembled over a period of multiple years.

Gaffin and pals are part of a rock band out of Florida, called The Killer Robots, whose schtick involves dressing in (undeniably impressive) robot costumes, and have also made films like The Killer Robots and the Battle for the Cosmic Potato. Maybe if I’d seen those, this might have made sense, instead of being the incomprehensible gibberish it seemed.  As far as I can determine, the plot is this. The Killer Robots steal the Arculon Destroyer from planet Radia, leaving it defenseless. To retake it, the rulers defrost a trio of android warriors: Mytra (Belko), Azalla (Martin), and Luna (Theron), known as the Destructivas. Mayhem ensues. Which is my way of saying “I’m not sure what happens thereafter.” Oh, except there’s time-travel. Definitely time-travel.

To say this is loosely-plotted, would imply there was any plotting going on at all. There’s no shortage of stuff happening, to be sure. However, very little of it makes coherent sense on more than the shallowest of levels. Characters arrive, do something or more or less relevance, and then vanish without explanation. I was somewhat amused on occasion, such as the way the Destructivas keep getting arrested, convicted and sent to space prison. Or there’s the “peacekeeper” chasing after them whose hand turns into a literal hammer. It’s just that it feels as if Gaffin simply hurled every idea he could think of into a blender, flicked the on-switch and committed the results to high-quality digital video.

Make no mistake, there’s a strong visual aesthetic here, perhaps best described as Tron, remade for fifty bucks after a hit of industrial-strength weed. The poster above is actually a fairly decent representation of the lurid delights in question, and I can’t fault this side of things. However, the lack of characterization, and performances which largely feel like having Chris Farley yelling in your face for a hour, outstay their welcome and become wearing. I would say, it’s the kind of thing which might work better as a music promo. Except, after the credits, that’s exactly what we get: a promo for The Killer Robots. And it’s kinda dull, with the band just wandering round in their admittedly impressive costumes. I still might buy a ticket for a live show. Their movies? Not so much. 

Dir: Sam Gaffin
Star: Amber Belko, Torie Martin, Kristal Theron, Sam Gaffin

Mother’s Day (2023)

★★★½
“Everybody has issues.”

I’d be the first to admit, those issues likely extend beyond the characters in the movie, and probably extend to the script writers, because there are certainly… well, let’s just say, some novel concepts here. The heroine is Nina Nowak (Grochowska), a former Special Ops soldier, who had to fake her own death and give her son Maks up to adoption, for both their security. She’s been keeping an eye on Maks (Delikta) from afar, but after he’s abducted at the request of a gangster Nina took down, she needs to become considerably more hands-on. Rescuing Maks, however, will bring her into contact with a number of rather odd  people, on both sides of the law.

In particular, there’s Igor (Delikta), her contact inside the establishment, who is divorced, and has a fragile relationship with his daughter that he desperately wants to repair. On the other side is the very strange Woltomierz (Wróblewski), a gangster who keeps the severed head of his father in a jar on his mantelpiece, and is known as “Volto” for his habit of tazing incompetent henchmen to death. Getting, and keeping, Maks out of his grasp is going to be a challenge for Nina. Although her bad-ass credentials are firmly established after she takes on a group of men outside a convenience store, armed with nothing more lethal than a six-pack of beer. Nina literally knocks one of them out of his shoes.

This is not to be confused with any of the other similarly titled films, not least the 2010 movie starring Rebecca de Mornay. Nor should it be confused with another recently released Netflix movie about a mother with special skills, looking for her abducted child, The Mother, starring Jennifer Lopez. With that said, the look and feel of this is impressive, the fight scenes in particular being well-staged and imaginative – though fair warning, do not expect realism. or anything approaching it. I’m unaware of Grochowska having any particular action background, yet she still delivers on that front.  Most notably, she stabs someone in the head with a pair of carrots: I’ve not seen that since the equally bonkers Clive Owen movie, Shoot ‘Em Up.

The whole film is lit in a sickly green palette, which does a great job of making the city in which it takes place, look like a terrible place to live. Less successful are the attempts at drama. The Nina/Maks relationship is flat and unconvincing, and the rest of the cast largely seem to be weird for weirdness’s sake. They’re not as interesting as the makers think they are. The best way to look at this is perhaps as a female-fronted version of Crank: a deliberately excessive action flick, clearly not intended to be taken seriously. As such, I think it is a better effort than Jolt, another Netflix movie which seemed to be aiming along similar lines. The ending hints at a sequel and, truth be told, I wouldn’t mind one.

Dir: Mateusz Rakowicz
Star: Agnieszka Grochowska, Adrian Delikta, Dariusz Chojnacki, Szymon Wróblewski

Incarcerated

★★½
“Chastely sleazy.”

There’s an interesting idea here, at least. As a young child, Elena (Ayala) has to watch as her mother and brother are killed by crime boss babe Maeve (McComb), after her father (Pardo) made the ill-advised decision to try and steal from her. It’s particularly awkward, since Maeve made him choose which of his two children should live… then killed the one he picked, his son. This Sophie-like choice has, understandably, left the father-daughter relationship somewhat strained, to put it mildly. 15 years later, Elena is a druggie, who robs a liquor store and gets sent to jail as a result. Except, this incarceration is entirely deliberate, because it’s the facility in which Maeve is now serving time, giving Elena her long-awaited chance for revenge.

Naturally, it proves not quite as simple as that, even though within two minutes, her friendly cell-mate, a veteran of the system, is providing a helpful gobbet of exposition about how Maeve has a parole hearing coming up, and has bribed a judge to recommend her release. From here, the inevitable tropes of the women in prison genre kick in, replacing the fairly original overall concept. The enemy quickly made by Elena (or rather, “Sophia,” the name she goes by in jail – perhaps a nod to the whole choice thing mentioned above?) after an incident in the chow hall. The horny guard, Fletcher (Wiles), with an addiction to taking advantage of the inmates. Violence in the showers.

What’s weird, though, is the relatively tame content, considering the situations. For example, on arrival, Elena is given a strip-search by Fletcher, in a rather creepy scene – rendered oddly powerless by the lack of any nudity. The same goes for several scenes shot in the prison showers, in a way which would barely stretch a PG-rating, and feel more in keeping with a TV movie (it’s not: this was made for streaming company Tubi, who have plenty of “mature” content on their service). The only exception is Fletcher getting his comeuppance, which involves a certain body part being sliced off and flushed down the toilet, in fairly graphic fashion. Mind you, Monroe was responsible for the remake of I Spit On Your Grave: it does feel as if he’s more comfortable with violence than sex.

This is all more than a bit implausible, from the way Elena miraculously ends up two cells down from her target, through the way she’s able to keep her identity secret on the inside, to the finale where all pretense at prison security simply evaporates. Can’t help thinking, she could also have just waited until Maeve got out on parole and taken care of her revenge then, considerably more easily. But where’s the fun in that? There are no surprises in the way things unfold, and the almost tasteful amount of restraint here left me suffering from a bit of cognitive dissonance. It feels as if Monroe misunderstood the assignment a bit, resulting in a missed opportunity.

Dir: Steven R. Monroe
Star: Yesenia Ayala, Heather McComb, Jason Wiles, Danny Pardo