Tag: f

Family Blood

  By

★½
“Bloody hell.”

Tubi TV has become a goldmine of obscure, weird and, very occasionally, wonderful content for me. When I say “obscure”, I mean their selection includes films like this, about which the IMDb has only the barest of information. No external reviews; no user reviews; not even a rating. The film exists, and at the time of writing, nobody on the Internet has apparently noticed. To be honest, there is  good reason for this: it’s another one of those modern blaxploitation vehicles, which seem to exist mostly for the director’s pals to show up on the soundtrack. Yet even by the low standards of that genre, this is technically inept, with woefully shoddy audio and almost no storyline to speak of.

What there is, occurs ten years after the event – not that you’d know it, if it wasn’t for a caption saying “TEN YEARS EARLIER”.  Det. Lens Smith (Stagger) tells the story of his ultimately unsuccessful efforts to locate a group of women assassins, operating at the time in Las Vegas. There was Dawn (Jaye), Phoenix (Cantrell)… and it then appears the group ran out of proper names, with the others being called Red Death (Douglas), White Tiger and – I kid you not – Yellow Fever. I have to repeat, there’s really no plot here. One of them is married to another LVPD detective. There’s some light bickering among the women. At the end, Det. Smith gets up and walks away, vowing to re-open the case. That’s it. 

Pluses are hard to find. It’s barely an hour long: that’s one. Initially, I thought it might eschew the usual crap rap, with the first murder accompanied by electro-Celtic bagpiping, which was at least different. This didn’t last long, unfortunately. There are occasional moments of droll humour, referencing the Die Hard and Lethal Weapon franchises, and one victim gets an extra bullet, for having had the temerity to touch his assassin’s ass. Though most of the killings are uninteresting or even unintentionally laughable. What assassin worth their salt, would climb to the roof of a building to try and shoot their victim on the sidewalk with a silenced handgun? I know nothing about guns and still realize that’s flat-out stupid.

As is sadly common, the audio is about the worst aspect. The talking head interview of Det. Smith is the only time where this is acceptable. Anything outside is doomed to be muffled; anything inside is equally inevitably afflicted with a tinny echo. I had to keep my finger permanently hovering over the volume button, turning it up whenever anyone was speaking, knowing that at any second the crap rap would burst out and send my ear-drums to Bleeding Town. In the end, I enabled the closed captions instead. Problem solved. The women are reasonably attractive, and keep their clothes on, with nothing more than a bit of cleavage to show for your troubles. It’s all, very definitely, not one of Tubi’s finest moments.

Dir: Bowfinger Stagger
Star: Kevin Stagger, Marlo Jaye, Porsha Cantrell, Ta’Sha Douglas

Fight for Survival

  By

★★
“Suffering from a bit of an identity crisis.”

This Taiwanese kung-fu potboiler just about manages to sustain interest for an hour, before losing the plot (literally, and such as it was to begin with) down the stretch. It begins with ten martial arts masters stealing an omnibus edition of fighting manuals from the local Shaolin temple. Trying to get entry, and failing, because they won’t admit women, is Shi Fu Chun (Kwan). With the help of former head priest Lin Chiu (Chan), who still lives nearby, she is taught a slew of skills, and ends up assigned the task of recovering the purloined books, and restoring the temple’s honour. Oh, except the “positive kung-fu” learned is causing Shi Fu to transition into a man. So she/he (inexplicably, the 1977 film does not provide us with preferred pronouns…) needs to find and learn some “negative kung-fu” stat, to counter the process. 

This is mostly standard stuff, with the novice being trained by the master, before going out into the world and putting her skills to the test. Except it feels like the movie was edited down from a four-hour version, as the story jumps from Shi having about three of the ten parts, to her heading back to the temple with them all. The heads of the ten clans then show up, and it all becomes almost incomprehensible. About the only part that I am certain about, had them forming what looked disturbingly like a kung-fu version of the Human Centipede [now, that’s a movie I would… if not perhaps pay to see, certainly consider downloading from a dodgy website]. I think one of the clan leaders tries to fight his way into the temple, defeating various occupants in different styles, leading up to a fight again Lin. He faked his own death to get Shi accepted, and since then, has apparently been sitting around the temple, covered in gold paint, because that’s what they do to dead ex-leaders.

There are a couple of bits which are kinda cool, such as Shi having to accept the branding of the temple, carried out through her carrying the red-hot cauldron depicted on the poster. One of her skills involves the ability to extend her arms and legs to remarkable length, which leads to some interesting fights. However, the old gender re-assignment plot may well reach new depths of implausibility. Somehow, this is repeatedly mistaken for a man. Another weirdness (at least, to contemporary Western viewers) is the good luck symbol on the clothing worn by the heroine and her allies. Yep, it’s the ol’ Buddhist swastika. Beyond such trivial concerns, the main problem though, is that most of the fights are pedestrian and uninteresting. The makers even bring Judy Lee in, and don’t allow her to get into action. This shows a severe misunderstanding of how things should be done, and if you pass on this, you’ll not be missing much.

Dir: Cheng Hou
Star: Polly Shang Kwan, Chan Wai-Lau, Che Chi-Sang, Judy Lee
a.k.a. Lady Wu Tang or Shaolin Tamo Systique

Fountaine and the Vengeful Nun Who Wouldn’t Die

  By

★★
“Jack of all trades, master of nun…”

You will probably understand why the title more or less rocketed to the top of my watch-list, especially when accompanied by the poster (right). Naturally, it was almost inevitable that it could not possibly live up to either: the question was mostly, how far short it would fall. The answer is, “a fair bit, yet not irredeemably so,” even if the first half if considerably duller than I wanted. Indeed, it’s also rather confusing, in terms of what’s going on. As well as I can piece things together, Mary (Stern) is a nun who gets sent to an asylum after losing her sister, though it turns out to be less a mental-care facility than you’d expect.

There, she meets and falls for another nun, Lee (Tripp), and the pair escape. Mary eventually falls in with a vigilante group, intent on taking down the criminal empire of Fountaine, while Lee is abducted by the same group. With the help of trusty sidekick Sam (Clower), who was also Lee’s adopted brother, Mary acquires the set of special skills necessary, in addition to a fetching zebra-striped eye-patch and a very pointy Samurai sword This leads to storming Fountaine’s headquarters, in order to rescue her love. I think that hits most of the main points, though I accept no responsibility if I’m wrong. To be honest though, this is not really plot-oriented, being a collage of elements from exploitation cinema over the last fifty years.

The most obvious influence is probably Kill Bill, which was itself a patchwork assembly, so we’ve got to the point where exploitation cinema truly is eating itself. The other angle is clearly the nunsploitation genre of sinful sisters, though it has to be said, this is remarkably chaste in comparison. I think there is only one pair of breasts and zero full nudity in the whole thing, a tally at which Jess Franco would laugh patronisingly. It isn’t even close to being the first “retro grindhouse” entry that harks back to the style, trailing a decade behind both Nude Nuns With Big Guns and the recently reviewed Sister Wrath (a.k.a. Nun of That), the latter in particular doing a better job at being more than a third-gen photocopy of the genre.

Instead, it concentrates on the violence, though to mixed results. When it concentrates on practical effects, it’s not bad and occasionally reaches impressive. However, bad CGI is something you would never have seen in the seventies, and its presence here is equally unwelcome and unsatisfactory. The other problem is the lead actress falling short of the charismatic heroines in the films which inspired this. Pam Grier. Tura Satana. Dyanne Thorne. Meiko Kaji. Christina Lindberg. Stern will not be joining them in the pantheon of greats any time soon. And good retro grindhouse is capable of being entertaining, even if you have no knowledge of the genre’s history. I’m rather less than certain that’s the case here.

Dir: James Dean
Star: Mallory Stern, Ron Clower, Jaclyn Tripp, Zera Lynd

Fly Like a Girl

  By

★★★
“American girls only need apply…”

This documentary is about the field of women in aviation, combining archive footage with interviews, covering the range from those who aspire to fly (giving their Lego aircraft lady pilots!) to those who have been into space, fought combat missions in the Middle East or dodged death in aerobatic displays. There’s not any particular structure to proceedings, choosing instead to bounce around between its topics and subjects. This helps keep things fresh, yet at the cost of any narrative beyond, I guess, “Women can do anything men can”? Which, to be fair, deserves saying in the aviation field particularly: how much strength is needed to handle a joystick?

As you’d expect, the interviewees are a bit of a mixed bag. Historically, perhaps the most interesting is Bernice ‘Bee’ Haydu, who was a WASP (Women Airforce Service Pilots) in World War II, and aged almost a hundred at the time she was interviewed; sadly, she died not long after. I think what made her and the others interesting, were being the ones who had actually done something. While wanting to be an astronaut, say, is fine, it can’t compete with Nicole Stott giving an eye-witness account of what it’s actually like to be on the Space Shuttle as it takes off. Or Vernice Armor, the first African American female combat pilot and her tale of flying an attack helicopter, running down to its final missile and being the last hope for a pinned-down squad of troops. That kind of thing could easily become a Major Hollywood Movie.

I think my favourite of all the people interviewed was Patty Wagstaff, a three-time winner of the US National Aerobatic Championships, who seemed remarkably down to earth (pun intended) about her exploits. Seeing her fly upside down, to cut a ribbon with her propeller just a few feet off the ground, was genuinely impressive. On the other hand, Sen. Tammy Duckworth came over as a career politician, with career politician speak that was easy to tune out. Maybe she has stories of her time in the military that are the equal of Armor’s. You wouldn’t really know it from the bland content she contributes to this.

My main complaint, however, was the absolutely American focus. It felt as if no-one outside the United States had ever left the ground. No mention of Sophie Blanchard, the first aeronautess. No mention of British pilot Amy Johnson. No mention even of the Soviet Union’s Night Witches. They’re only the most successful group of female combat fliers in aviation history. But they’re not American, so for the purposes of this film, they don’t exist. The only meaningful reference to anywhere else, is when there’s a passing mention of Bessie Coleman having to go to France to get her pilot’s license. On that basis, it feels like a missed opportunity, only scratching the surface of its topic and wearing a large, nationalistic set of blinkers.

Dir: Katie McEntire Wiatt
Star: Nicole Stott, Tammy Duckworth, Patty Wagstaff, Vernice Armor

Fear of a Black Planet

  By

★★
“Not everything is black and white…”

It’s interesting to look at the film’s IMDb page, and contrast the reviews, where there’s nothing less than an 8/10, with the rating, where 73% of votes are a 1/10. One “review” was actually a rant about other reviews which appear to have been removed? Something odd there. There’s no doubt, the film is not so much tackling a contentious topic, as driving head-first into it at 80 mph. Even the title (obviously inspired by the Public Enemy LP of the same name) is an incendiary one, guaranteed to raise the hackles of many – and, to be honest, not without reason, because of the assumptions it makes. It’s a shame, since the film is at least slightly more nuanced than the title makes it seem.

We’re still deep in problematic territory, however. The topic of race relations in post-Trump America is not something a 70-minute film can address in any meaningful way. While I have to admire the intent, it feels like this was doomed to fail from the get-go, and delivers only the most ham-handed of commentary. Fay (White), a newly graduated black cop, is on the way to visit her father’s grave when full-on race war breaks out. She takes shelter in the warehouse belonging to artist Nova (Kott), only to find it’s not much of a safe haven. For Nova turns out to be part of a white militia group, run by Lestor (Benton). They’ve got a van and are plotting something not very nice with it.

The issue here is the script, which has so many flaws it’s hard to pick out the worst. It’s probably Fay’s repeated failure to nope the hell out of there, despite prolific opportunities. Though the competition in this category is tough. Why does Nova let a “monkey” in to their lair, on multiple occasions? Why do the militia not permanently dispose of Fay the first chance they get? Shouldn’t they – oh, I dunno – lock the door to prevent Fay’s white boyfriend, Ric (Price), from coming in? It’s not as if civilization outside has collapsed into anarchy and utter chaos. Oh, my mistake: it supposedly has. Or maybe not immediately recruit Ric onto their team? Guess you just can’t get the white supremacists these days…

None of these have anything to do with the film’s apparent message: it’s basic storytelling. The performances are fine, and the direction occasionally impressive; the ending works better than it should. However, these aspects deserve a much better plot, and aren’t enough to salvage the endeavour as a whole. With regard to the messaging, it’s not as painfully didactic as I expected from its title, tending to let its morality flow from the situations. Though any pretense at balance is limited to a two-minute appearance by a vigilante apparently affiliated to the Black Hebrew Israelite movement, going by his multiple references to “white devils”. The reality, of course, is that 90% of people, black and white, don’t hold these kinds of extremist views. Here, 90% do, making it as much a dubious fantasy as Birth of a Nation.

Dir: Detdrich McClure
Star: Jay White, Amanda Kott, Joshua Benton, Keli Price

The Flood

  By

★★★
“Destroy me? They made me…”

The first eighty or so minutes of this are really good: powerful, committed and extremely angry film-making. And justifiably so, I would say. Unfortunately, the film runs for a hundred and seventeen minutes, and definitely goes off the rails towards the end. The gritty realism which was perhaps the movie’s strongest suit is replaced by odd fantasy sequences, such as the fugitive couple suddenly dressed, in the middle of a forest, as if they were attending a Victorian embassy ball. I’m not certain what the point of these elements, or the anachronistic pop songs were. I am certain that they didn’t enhance my appreciation of the film in any way, and that’s a shame, considering how assured it had been in the early going.

There’s no doubt aboriginal Australians received a really bad deal from their government, up until very recent times. As this film documents, they were forced off their lands, and their children frequently taken away as wards of the state. Even those who served their country honourably in World War II, like Waru Banganha  (Cook), were denied basic civil on their return to civilian life. Hard to blame Waru for going berserk, and killing some of the Mackay family who had sexually abused his wife, Jarah (Lane), and their daughter, Maggie (Williams), while he was fighting in the jungle. Worse is then to follow, as Jarah is gang-raped while in custody, in an attempt to get her husband’s location. “Don’t let what they did you destroy you,” a friend tells her. Jarah responds with the chilling line at the top of the review. She’s not wrong, as she takes revenge on the Mackays and their cronies, first rescuing and then alongside Waru.

What’s interesting is that, despite his military training, it’s largely Jarah – no mean shot with a gun herself – who takes the lead, and shows little or no mercy. She has decided that they must pay, even those who were only tangentially involved in ripping her family apart, and does so with a clear-headed intensity and ferocity which is wonderful to behold. This kind of story can easily feel like pandering, playing on liberal white guilt, yet McIntyre avoids that. The closest cousin to the body of this picture might be the blaxploitation flicks of the seventies, where the hero or heroine was pushed too far, and eventually stuck it to “the man”. Abosploitation? Though if we’re making up words, it also feels like a “Vegemite Western”, despite the post-war time-frame.

Throughout this, there have been flashbacks and memories that could be dreams. However, these have generally been restrained, and if not maybe adding too much to the film, don’t feel like they hurt it. That changed in the final third, with the pace dropping close to zero, just when it should be ramping up to a climax with all guns blazing. I will admit in particular to rolling my eyes at the redemptive fate of the main antagonist, who deserved considerably worse than he received. The energy and momentum this possessed, just about carries the film over the finish line. Yet I can’t help feeling. it should have been a great deal more effective.

Dir: Victoria Wharfe McIntyre
Star: Alexis Lane, Shaka Cook, Dean Kyrwood, Dalara Williams

The Female Hustler

  By

★★½
“The long climb up.”

This is another one in the apparently endless series of low-budget urban movies, which focus on crime in the black community. Though this does actually have a couple of wrinkles which make it stand out, if not quite enough to make it a success for a wider audience outside its community. Columbus, Ohio is the setting, where Princess (Godsey) is struggling to make ends meet. She’s relying on handouts from her dodgy brother, Dae Dae, to make rent, and also wants to get her best friend away from her pimp. Opportunity comes knocking, in the shape of an Uber driver, Omar (Campbell), who brings her on board in his business, which he tells her has almost unlimited upside and growth potential.

to the movie’s credit, this isn’t the usual drug-dealing we’ve seen so many times before. While the specifics were a bit vague, it seems Omar is working on white-collar crime, syphoning off company payroll. His associate on the West coast, the appropriately named Cali (Bosley), is planning a hostile takeover, and brings Princess on board. Omar gets wind of this, only for Princess to turn the tables, leaving her boss for dead. That brings us to phase two of the movie, where Princess is now in charge of a nationwide enterprise. However, to no great surprise, it is not as easy as that, not least because Omar is still alive, and unhappy about the situation, to put it mildly.

To start with the positives, Godsey is a good actress, and indeed, most of the cast are solid enough, when their performances are given room to breathe. The first half of this, depicting Princess’s rise to the top, may be small scale, but is effective. I do have some questions though: for example, the reason why multi-millionaire entrepreneur Omar is working as an Uber driver, is never convincingly explained. However, the budget here is entirely incapable of depicting the lifestyle of Princess once she has reached at the top. It needs yachts, big cars, lavish apartments, etc. and the film never delivers. It feels like she’s probably still living in the same crappy apartment she inhabited at the beginning of the movie.

That’s far from uncommon: I’ve seen many similar films whose ambitions did not live up to their resources. A bigger problem, however, is the soundtrack. It feels simply like the director left his Spotify account on random, with one of an endless selection of songs written and performed by his mates, blasting every three minutes. There seems to have been little or no attempt to choose the songs to fit the needs of the scene, and they are far more often a jarring distraction. Occasionally, we get some sequences where Campbell does exercise restraint, opting for stock music instead, and these are inevitably better. But I’m not averse to Campbell overall, who shows enough talent, along with his lead actress, that they will be worth keeping an eye on going forward.

Dir: Dom Campbell
Star: Courtney Godsey, Dom Campbell, Kenneth Bse Count Bosley, Vivica Cartier

Fall

  By

★★★★
“Nope. NopeNopeNope. Nope.”

I never considered myself to be afraid of heights. I respect them, sure. But I am capable of going up the ladder to change that annoying smoke alarm battery without a safety net. This film though, literally gave me sweaty palms. It’s about climber Becky Connor (Currey) who lost her husband Dan (Gooding) in a rockface accident a year before, and has spiralled down into alcoholism and depression since. Her father (Morgan) gets her best friend Shiloh Hunter (Gardner) to intervene, and she convinces Becky the best thing is to get back on horse, with a climb of a two thousand feet tall, abandoned TV mast. 

The journey up is where the moist hands started. I don’t care how nice the views might be, I’m afraid it’s going to be a no from me, dawg. Adding to the fraught tension, is the focus by Mann on the decaying structure: rust, missing bolts and general creakiness. It’s like Final Destination: you know something is inevitably going to go terribly wrong, it’s just a question of when, and the specifics. It duly does, leaving the pair stranded near the top, on a platform about the size of our dining table, with no route down or way to call for help. The rest of the film is the struggle of Becky and Hunter (she uses her last name, or her social media identity of “Danger Deb”) to find a way to do one or the other. 

Most of it is well-written, with the two women using every bit of ingenuity, as well as both their physical and mental strength, in that struggle. While I was ahead of the plot a couple of times – some of the foreshadowing isn’t as subtle as it could be – there was one doozy of a twist near the end, that we definitely did not see coming. By the end, there’s no doubt Becky is an utterly badass, prepared to survive by any means necessary. My main complaint, storywise, was the clunky shoehorning in of a wedge issue to divide her and Hunter. This served no dramatic purpose, and had me rolling my eyes at the incongruity of it all. Hello: you are two thousand feet in the air!

Technically, however, it’s very well done, giving the viewer a real sense of what it must be like. If you are the slightest bit sensitive about heights, this film will find out, force its way into those cracks, and use them as leverage, to an almost queasy extent. I found it easy to believe they were genuinely up there, even if neither lead actress has quite the ripped physique of a real climber, someone like Slovenian Janja Gambret. I did wonder if it was potentially going to go full The Descent on us at the end, and embrace its inner bleakness. I won’t say whether or not it does. However, I suspect that the next time our smoke alarm starts to beep, its battery will have to change itself.

Dir: Scott Mann
Star: Grace Caroline Currey, Virginia Gardner, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Mason Gooding

Firestarter (2022)

  By

★★★
“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

Firestarter (1984)

  By

★★½
“I’m the trouble starter, punkin’ instigator…”

It’s somewhat ironic that John Carpenter was originally supposed to direct this. However, after The Thing tanked at the box-office, he was let go from the project, and replaced by the more commercially “safe” Lester. The irony being that The Thing is now regarded (rightfully) as one of the greatest scifi/horror films of all time, while this is… not. It’s very much a mid-tier Stephen King adaptation, far less well remembered than the similarly themed The Dead Zone, from around the same time. I can understand why: it’s lumbering when it needs to be taut, needlessly coming in a little shy of two hours, and only comes to life at the end, when a pissed-off Drew gets enough XP to learn her Level 3 Fireball spell.

She plays Charlie McGee, daughter of Andrew (Keith) and Vicky (Heather Locklear), who met during a fringe scientific experiment, carried out by a dodgy arm of the government. Dosed with a substance called Lot 6, she can read minds, and he can compel people to act in accordance with his will. Charlie, meanwhile… Oh, see the title. Or the poster. Figure it out for yourself. Though the stiff breeze which springs up out of nowhere, each time she furrows her little brow and gets toasty, is a nice touch. Naturally, the government under Captain Hollister (Sheen) are very keen to get their hands on her, with psycho Indian hitman John Rainbird (Scott) eventually sent out to bring in Charlie. 

There’s quite a lot here which has not stood the test of time, and/or wasn’t very good to begin with. Top of the list is likely Keith’s performance, which feels like a poorly conceived effort to channel Patrick Swayze. Scott is creepy, for all the wrong reasons. Rainbird’s relationship with Charlie feels inappropriate from a 2020’s angle, and few people are likely less appropriate to play a native American than Gen. Patton. The film’s main strength is Barrymore, who alternates between adorability and frankly being damn scary. Every other minute, you want to hug her… while wrapped safely in a fireproof suit. At the age of eight, I guess she was still a couple of years from going into rehab.

While the structure largely mirrors the book, doing so probably doesn’t help, beginning when Charlie and her father are already on the run. This then requires a series of clunky flashbacks to get us caught up, and there is too much sitting around the lab, getting father and daughter to demonstrate their talents. Charlie probably isn’t the only one to issue a derisive snort when she is presented with a pile of wood chips. When things do eventually get going though, this is deliciously well-done (in the steak sense, at least), a throwback to the days in Hollywood when wanting to blow stuff up, required actually blowing stuff up. I would nod in acceptance if you told me the finale was responsible for starting off global warming. It just doesn’t quite make up for the 105 minutes which preceded it.

Dir: Mark L. Lester
Star: David Keith, Drew Barrymore, George C. Scott, Martin Sheen
A version of this review previously appeared on Film Blitz