Tag: kidnapping

Infiltrate

  By

★★★
“Canadian bakin’.”

Thanks to Chris for finding this one. Albeit through a clip on a Chinese site under the name “Rescue From the Abyss”. This led to a significant diversion into movies about submarines, before eventually finding the correct, entirely submarine-free movie. No question, this is the hardest hitting film I’ve seen so far in 2026, though once you get past the action, things get more wobbly. Lily Chen (Ladouceur-Nguyen) is an operative for a shadowy government law enforcement group. She just learned about a potential promotion, though husband Jonathan is less enthusiastic and storms out. Before further discussion can occur, she gets a phone-call. The voice (Goad) informs her Jonathan is his hostage, and Lily needs to do exactly what he says.

His subsequent orders involve working her way through the criminal organization belonging to Marcel LaFleur (Moussi). Matters are complicated, as the voice eventually reveals that not everyone in Lily’s organization is as honest as she is. Can she trust even her boss, Director Bass (Berry)? There’s also backstory about a traumatic event in our heroine’s past, though this is largely irrelevant and can safely be ignored. Indeed, I’d say that overall, the scripting is the weakest link. The eventual explanation, while I can’t discuss it in detail due to spoilers, left me with a lot of questions. The supporting cast are a mixed bag too. LaFleur’s mismatched hair and beard colours irritated the hell out of me for some reason, as did his unexplained facial scars. 

But when he’s not doing pretentious things like painting in blood or debating Shakespeare… It takes a while to get to the expected Lily vs. Marcel battle. However, it is worth the wait, and is thoroughly convincing, despite the significant size disparity. It’s long, gruelling and brutal. I did have to laugh at the obvious stunt table, which stands out in LaFleur’s apartment like a sore thumb. The best fight might actually be earlier, when Lily has to take on a particularly psychosexual pair of henchmen. Though the opening scene sets bar for savagery quite high as well. Mark’s background in stunts is apparent, though I think I preferred his earlier feature, Control. While its script was imperfect, the flaws were less apparent. 

This Canadian production must be out of Quebec, given the significant sprinkling of French here. But, in another in the series of micro-aggressions the film commits, the font used for the subtitles is hard to read. I don’t recall the last time a film got the core element – here, the action – so right, yet appeared entirely dedicated to screwing things up around the edges. I could go on. The whiny nature of Jonathan, who doesn’t appear to realize it is no longer the Victorian era. Occasional forays by the director into shaky-cam. Despite that, there were still enough positives to keep me interested, and I look forward to seeing what both Mark and Ladouceur-Nguyen are able to deliver down the road. 

Dir: James Mark
Star: Orphée Ladouceur-Nguyen, Alain Moussi, Lisa Berry, Jonathan Goad

Dead of Winter

  By

★★★½
“Old, bold and cold.”

Thompson seems to be having a second wind, making her first appearance on this site at the age of sixty-six. That’s a decade more than Liam Neeson was when he became an action star with Taken, and probably makes Thompson the oldest debutante here. This comes on the heels of series Down Cemetery Road which, while not quite qualifying here, certainly was more brisk than expected. At this rate, I might even have to forgive her for throwing shade at Audrey Hepburn. No question about the credentials of Winter for this site, since it plays like a cross between Fargo and Taken. There’s not a lot of fat here, certainly. Things kick off just a few minutes in, and barely stop thereafter.

Barb (Thompson) is on the way to a lake in Minnesota – a part played by Finland – for some ice fishing. She gets turned around, and stops at a remote cabin to ask for directions. There she meets an odd man (Menchaca), and notices some blood on the ground. Then, at the lake, she sees the man chasing after and recapturing a young woman (Marsden), so realizes she has stumbled into the middle of a kidnapping plot. After the obligatory “no signal” scene, Barb realizes she is the victim’s only hope. But the man may not be her biggest problem. His wife (Greer) is the real brains behind the operation, very highly motivated, and prepared to go to any lengths to stop Barb from interfering in the grim plan.

I will say, it does take a bit of getting used to, hearing Thompson going full Marge Gunderson, eh? This is no comment on the accuracy of the accent, a topic on which I am not qualified to speak. It’s just odd. However, this is not a particularly dialogue-heavy movie, with Barb spending much of it alone and in the wilderness. We never find out either of the antagonists’ names, incidentally, the end credits just calling them Purple Lady and Camo Jacket. The film focuses increasingly on the two women. Purple has nothing left to lose, generally having the edge in firepower and ruthlessness – as is demonstrated after Barb is able to reach help through a CB radio. But Barb has motivation of her own. 

This comes out in rather clunky flashbacks to the early days of her relationship with her husband. Truth be told, I didn’t feel these added particularly much; the same information could have been provided more efficiently, and in ways which didn’t derail the tension of the current situation. Though I did like how the young Barb is played by Thompson’s real-life daughter, Gaia Wise, I found myself impatient for the film to return to the one-on-one battle, which you know is going to end badly for someone. Or someones. The film doesn’t disappoint there, with a brutal struggle in the middle of a frozen lake, good enough to make me forget the combatants have a combined age of 116. 

Dir: Brian Kirk
Star: Emma Thompson, Judy Greer, Marc Menchaca, Laurel Marsden

Kidnapping in the Grand Canyon

  By

★★★
“Not grand, but adequate.”

Despite my relentlessly commitment to sit through any film with an action heroine that strays across my radar, I’ll admit to suppressing an inward wince, when the film started and the ‘Lifetime Movies’ logo popped up. This origin was news to me. However, I was literally a captive viewer, since I was sitting on a plane to Mexico, so couldn’t exactly pop up and put on something else. At least it did mean I wasn’t going to end up uncomfortably trying to hide my screen from fellow passengers. This has occasionally happened previously, after an ill-considered choice of in-flight entertainment. Inevitably when I’m occupying the middle seat. Say what you like, Lifetime TVMs are safe. 

And to my surprise, in this case, reasonably entertaining. Admittedly, expectations were low. However, this kept my attention. Not that I could exactly walk out. But it keeps things simple, and is the better for it. To mark the twentieth anniversary of their friendship, pediatrician Brooke (Vitori) and photographer Chandra (Rosita) decide to do something special and hike the Grand Canyon. They bump into guide Nate (Boyd), who convinces them to go off trail and see hidden delights. As the title suggests, big mistake. For he is actually in need of a doctor who can tend to a nasty, infected leg wound suffered by extremely reluctant fiancée Tara (Bailey), and won’t take no for an answer, from any of the three women. 

Nothing new in the plotting here (there’s another Lifetime film with a suspiciously similar premise, Vanished in Yosemite),  but it does a decent job of avoiding character idiocy often needed in many of this sort of thing. Chandra is established early on as the risk-taker, so it makes sense when she immediately accepts Nate’s offer, over the objections of the much more cautious Brooke. This, too, is understandable as she lost her husband in a climbing accident two years previously. Yet despite the disparate personalities, the friendship between them is sold by the actresses’ performances. It gives a solid foundation, so that the occasionally rocky plotting doesn’t end up causing the whole endeavour to collapse. By the end, both have clearly changed and moved towards the middle, a nice acknowledgement of moderation being the best policy. Boyd does his part too, initially making Nate seem charming, until the inevitable – for anyone who has seen a man in a Lifetime movie, anyway – heel turn. 

I do suspect not all of it was actually filmed in the Grand Canyon. The stuff at the rim, certainly. But they’re shown entering the National Park, before arriving at the Sugar Loaf Lodge, which is actually in Sedona, a good hundred miles south. Some of the scenery looks more like Utah as well. However, you can’t go wrong with the Grand Canyon. It looks as majestic and imposing as ever, adding value to the production. Weirdly, it ends up being the second film I’ve seen this week, after Deep Fear, where a flare gun is wielded for offensive purposes. What are the odds?

Dir: Derek Pike
Star: Gina Vitori, Philip Boyd, Katrina Rosita, Ryann Bailey
A version of this review originally appeared on Film Blitz.

You’re Killing Me

  By

★★★
“Angelic Upstarts”

Eden Murphy (Miller) has a problem. She desperately wants to get into Pembroke College, but is currently on the wait list. However, classmate Barrett Schroder (Heller) has a congressman for a father, a letter from whom would surely push her application forward. Barrett isn’t exactly helpful, so along with friend Zara (Milliner), she crashes his party, hoping to press her case. A series of events ensue, resulting in Eden being trapped in a bedroom with a passed-out drunk Zara, and a phone belonging to one of Barrett’s friends, Gooch (Deusner). This has some incriminating video footage on it, apparently linking Barrett to the recent disappearance of another classmate. He is very keen to get it back, by any means necessary.

The first two acts here are fairly straightforward siege horror, with Eden trying to figure out how she and Zara can escape a situation that’s increasingly untenable. Their own phones were collected on the way into the venue, and Zara’s current state makes running for it a poor strategy. Instead, Eden has to fight a rearguard action, trying to bargain with the increasingly aggressive Barrett and his henchmen, while barricading their current location and repel attacks. It may helps that she is able to capture Gooch when he tries to climb in through a window, giving them a bargaining chip – and potentially a first-reported sighting of Chekhov’s Hair-dryer… That depends: Barrett might not care all that much about his “friend,” considering he caused the problem to begin with.

This is likely when the film is at its best, because neither Eden nor Barrett are idiots, and both know what’s at stake. This dynamic changes sharply when his parents (played by Dermot Mulroney and the late Anne Heche, to whom the film is dedicated) come home unexpectedly. You thought Bennett was willing to stop at nothing? Mrs. Schroder, in particular, cares not one whit how many bodies will need to be buried by the end of the night. To be honest, I felt this is where the film slipped over the edge of plausibility, quickly descending into carnage which teetered on the edge of ridiculous, and with some questionable pharmacology. 

There were times where it almost felt there was a reel missing too, one escape teetering on the edge of “With one bound, she was free” territory. However, we still get a satisfactory final confrontation (remember that hair-dryer?), and I found myself rooting for Eden more than I thought I might at the beginning. There’s a sense of social commentary here, based around the concept of the rich and powerful being able to get away with anything. But it’s handled lightly enough not to get in the way, and despite problems in the final reel, I was adequately entertained. If it does feel that Miller may have been trying too hard to be an alternate to Samara Weaving, there are certainly much worse things to be!

Dir: Beth Hanna, Jerren Lauder
Star: McKaley Miller, Keyara Milliner, Wil Deusner, Brice Anthony Heller

First Daughter

  By

★★½
“Secret Service with a smile.”

El Jardinero isn’t the only long-delayed review of a franchise opener. I saw First Shot, the third movie in this series about Secret Service Agent Alex McGregor (Hemingway), back in 2014, and at the time it was the only entry present on Netflix. A decade later, I now get the chance to catch up with the first entry and… it is pretty much what you’d expect. Competent enough for a TV movie, but the limitations of that medium are always going to knee-cap the material. This does begin well enough, with an energetic terrorist attack on a fundraiser for President Jonathan Hayes (Harrison) by members of the American Freedom Fighters – this clearly dates outside the 2001-16 window when domestic terrorism was ignored. 

His life is saved by Alex, but only after she disobeys orders from her boss, which gets her into hot water. Still, a few months later, she is selected to accompany Hayes’s teenage daughter, Jess (Keena), on a wilderness adventure trip. Unfortunately, this drops them right into the Colorado terrain (actually Australia, but who can tell the difference?) where the AFF militia are hiding out. They get the bright idea of kidnapping Jess, so they can exchange her for their leader, captured during the attack mentioned above. Jess is the only agent to survive the initial assault, and so it’s up to her and tour guide Grant Coleman (Savant) to track the terrorists through the forest, and free Jess from their clutches

This is spottily entertaining, and you can probably tell most of the story beats in advance. Jess resents Alex’s presence on the trip, while Alex and Grant get off on the wrong foot – but you just know everyone is going to grow to respect each other by the end of the film. However, it holds together well enough, with decent performances from Hemingway and Savant, who make for a likeable pair. It is front-loaded, with the original attack a nifty piece of bullet-ridden carnage, before the film then goes to sleep on that front. It’s instead busy introducing characters, establishing relationships and making Alex do rock-climbing to prove she’s not a lesbian. Or something like that. My notes are a bit unclear on the point.

It has to be said, despite the presence of WWE’s Diamond Dallas Page among them, the AFF members are very much low-grade terrorists. There’s only three of the left, and I would not say smarts are their strong suit. As threats go, they’re lightweights. It was also a little disappointing how McGregor ends up needing to be rescued in the climax. While it’s an acceptable conclusion, tying up a dangling loose end, it does weaken her as a protagonist. There is some impressive bits of white-water action, and in generally, it feels more like a low-budget theatrical feature than a made for television one: its budget of $5 million certainly feels more than the typical nineties TVM. If my review of the third entry was scathing, I suspect it won’t take another ten years before I review the second.

Dir: Armand Mastroianni
Star: Mariel Hemingway, Doug Savant, Monica Keena, Gregory Harrison

Don’t Move

  By

★★★
“Suicide hotline stalking”

A somewhat gimmicky but adequately competent Netflix Original, I guess the moral here is that being abducted and stalked by a serial killer is the best kind of therapy. We meet Iris (Asbille) in the remote woods where her young son previously died. She never recovered, and is now standing on edge of a cliff, contemplating suicide. She’s interrupted by the arrival of a stranger, Richard (Wittrock), who talks her down. However, it turns out he has an ulterior motive: he wants to be the one to kill Iris. He tazes her, and while subsequently managing to escape, she has also been injected with a muscle relaxant that in twenty minutes will render her unable to move. 

Obviously, this makes for a perilous situation, as the drug slowly works its way through her system, eventually shutting down almost all conscious muscle movements. As such, it is going to be an “action” heroine film more in spirit than literally. For the vast majority of the film, Iris is unable to do very much more except blink enthusiastically. Naturally, both coming and going, the chemicals operate in exactly the way necessary to facilitate the script, and ratchet up the tension. Need to alert a suspicious police officer (Francis) to her presence? She will be able to move her hand just enough for that purpose, albeit very slowly. However, the script is assembled well enough, these moments feel organic enough to pass muster.

I think the best sequence has her washing up on the land of the reclusive Bill (Treadwell), an old geezer who is initially able to help. However, he is interrupted by the arrival of Richard, supposedly looking for his mentally disturbed wife. Bill can sense this isn’t exactly the truth, but Richard spins a plausible web of lies, all while Iris is inches away, unable to do anything. This generates quite the nervous energy, before it’s suddenly released. Indeed, Bill is an interesting person, albeit by the low standards of “minor characters in serial killer films”. Richard, too, has some surprises in his back-story. An unexpected phone call upends his carefully prepared plans, requiring a quick disposal of Iris, which leads to the movie’s climax. 

This is where it does topple over in terms of credibility, with more than one, “Wait, what?” moment. Apparently, a dunk in cold water is all it takes to reverse any pharmaceutical effects. Didn’t do much earlier, but I’ll say no more. While it’s always an issue if a film can’t stick the landing, Asbille delivers a good enough portrayal to keep me interested. That’s especially so, given the physical limitations imposed on her by the script; there are points where her eyes are the entire performance. Like most Netflix Originals, this isn’t likely to leave a lasting impression. However, unlike some, it did not leave me feeling my time had been wasted. Producer Sam Raimi, his name larger on the poster than the stars or directors, shouldn’t be embarrassed by this.

Dir: Brian Netto, Adam Schindler
Star: Kelsey Asbille, Finn Wittrock, Moray Treadwell, Daniel Francis

Escape

  By

★★★
“Now, I always fight back…”

This feels almost like a throwback to the silent era, and ‘white slave’ films with titles like Traffic in Souls, combined with a significant fear of ‘the other’. As such, it’s both painfully simplistic, and endlessly fascinating in the layers of interpretation which can be read into it, should you be so inclined. On the most basic level, it’s your everyday tale of “good” girls, kidnapped for sale to the highest bidder, who need to fight to retain their modesty and virtue. [Though let the record show, at no point is there any bikini-wearing wielding of automatic weapons, despite what the poster clearly wants you to think. The heroines here prefer weapons of the blunt and/or pointy variety]

Director Ford is no stranger to this site, having previously given us Never Let Go and The Ledge. This is similarly workmanlike, benefiting from a straightforward approach and uncomplicated plot. Young, attractive women on holiday (this was filmed in the Canary Islands) are being abducted and sold off as sex slaves. The tactics used by Andras (Cronin) and his gang vary from luring their targets to a remote cabin, to barging into their vacation apartment and chloroforming them. The net result is the same: they end up in a cell, deep in the bowels of a remote building, awaiting shipment to a buyer, located somewhere even more foreign. The latest victims are Tamsin and nurse Karla (Marks), who join seven other girls in peril, including Lucy (Rankin).

As well as the clearly xenophobic approach – foreign places are bad, and foreigners worse – there’s also a notable class element here. All the girls appear “nice”, from middle- to upper-class families, while their captors are rough-hewn working-class thugs. The exception is Jude (James): also the only one with a conscience, he provides Karla and friends with the opportunity to free themselves. This mass escape definitely feels like it’s taken from women-in-prison films, the women turning the tables on their captors. Karla, in particular, initially intends to leave, but for reasons connected to her past (everyone here has issues – see the quote, top), decides to go back and make Andras pay, using the pointy weapons mentioned above.

This is the gnarliest, though not the only bit of violence here, and the film doesn’t hold back. Despite some digital blood, other effects are clearly practical and the audio work enhances the effect nicely. There’s an subplot about the search for the girls back in Britain, which is almost entirely superfluous, and could surely have been replaced with some gratuitous nudity. The film is so chastely moral in that department, it could almost pass the Hays Code. It feels like there are too many interchangeable victims as well, who sometimes blur together, especially when they are running in different directions. Is that Tamsin? Or Karla? But it’s rarely boring, and as a melodramatic throwback, pushes enough of the right buttons.

Dir: Howard J. Ford
Star: Sarah Alexandra Marks, Sophie Rankin, Sean Cronin, Louis James

Trunk: Locked In

  By

★★★½
“Difficulty booting up”

This certainly wastes no time. Malina (Martens) regains consciousness to find herself in the trunk of a car stopped at a petrol station. Things get worse, as she discovers her legs are paralyzed, and she has a nasty wound in her lower abdomen. How did she get there? And more importantly, what can she do to escape her predicament? It’s certainly one hell of a hook, and in the way it hits the ground running – as well as its Germanic origins, almost real-time approach and the plucky heroine with a sketchy boyfriend, forced to survive on her own – reminded me of Run Lola Run. Not as brilliantly executed, of course, but well enough done to keep my interest thereafter.

It does require a little suspension of disbelief to get things rolling, such as the way she has a mobile phone. What self-respecting abductor would not ensure their victim is kept well away from portable electronic devices? The fact Malina’s very first call is not to the police also seemed a bit iffy. But once the initial road bumps are overcome, I found myself increasingly drawn in to her predicament. Considering the film takes place almost entirely in a car boot, it works surprisingly well. Schießer uses all the tricks in his cinematic locker to keep the story moving forward, as find out about Malina, and her relationship with boyfriend Enno (Gilz), her father (Rettinghaus) and even the police operator (Helm) who is her best hope of survival.

Gradually, it becomes clear that this is not quite the simple abduction for ransom it initially appears. While her Daddy is certainly rich, why was the poverty stricken Enno apparently abducted too? Is there a connection to a bit of medical malpractice in which Malina, a trainee doctor, was involved? Then there’s the wound in her side, which is not just an accidental gash. Not all of these will end up relevant in the final analysis, and piecing them together is part of the fun. I figured out the key revelation only a couple of seconds before the film announced it, and this propels things forward in a very different direction, the rest of the way.

Obviously, given her circumstances – locked in a car trunk and with limited use of her legs – this is less “action” oriented in the traditional sense. But also given these limitations, I’ve no doubt that Malina qualifies here, having to use all the abilities at her disposal, from her medical knowledge to brute force, to try and survive, as her situation grows increasingly dire, e.g. she crosses the border out of Germany. I feel sure it’s the kind of plot where a less charitable reviewer could probably pick so many holes, it ends up resembling a lace garment. Martens isn’t Franke Potente either, though who is? However, I am prepared to give it the benefit of the doubt, and note that I wasn’t even tempted to pick up my cellphone once. These days, I’ll take that.

Dir: Marc Schießer
Star: Sina Martens, Luise Helm, Artjom Gilz, Charles Rettinghaus