Hollow in the Land

★★★
“Hollow, I must be going…”

This feels like a Canadian version of Winter’s Bone; not that there’s anything necessarily wrong with this, it just results in a slight sense of deja vu. The Miller siblings are already pariahs in their small town. Their mother walked out on them, and father went to jail for a car accident which killed the son of the local sheriff. Brandon has become a teenage delinquent, whom his sister Alison (Agron) is trying to keep from going off the rails entirely. And she’s a lesbian, so isn’t exactly popular either. After the father of Brandon’s girlfriend turns up dead, he vanishes, becoming suspect #1. Alison can’t believe he’s that bad, so goes looking for him. In the process, helped by a sympathetic deputy (Ashmore), she begins to uncover a lot of unpleasant secrets – things the town would much prefer stayed buried.

For the majority of this, it likely fell short of qualifying for the site. Alison has an undeniable persistence, certainly, and her unwavering loyalty to her brother is also laudable. However, the closer she gets to the truth, the greater the importance of physical action becomes. The likely turning point comes when she is out in the woods, and comes across the body of someone who has been shot. The shooter is still nearby, and has Alison in his sights. Thereafter, following an amusing encounter with a pair of female marijuana growers, it becomes clear that talk is no longer getting it done, and it’s time for her to take action. Anyone who says, “Violence isn’t a solution” won’t be happy with the results. But that’s why the film is getting reviewed here!

It’s a very good performance from Agron, who takes a spiky character and makes her easy to like and root for. Alison is someone to whom life has not dealt an easy hand, yet she still persists in trying to do the right thing, in particular towards Brandon. It would certainly be easier, and perhaps even justifiable, for her just to throw up her hands and walk away, leaving him to the consequences of his actions. That unrelenting sense of family is the reason I applied the “mother” tag to this one, even though she’s his sister.

My main issues are likely to do with the plot, which seems to have a number of weaknesses. The biggest one is the identity of the actual murderer. Their motivation fell some way short of feeling compelling, and as a result, their actions seemed more contrived, than flowing naturally out of their situation. There’s also a certain repetitive approach, especially in the front two-thirds, up until the woods incident mentioned above. Seeing Alison approach other residents, and get told to go away, in less polite terms, does get a bit old. And, for Canada, there seem to be a lot of guns around… However, Agron’s performance is enough to hold together this slice of small-town noir, and makes it worth sticking around for the (likely inevitable) bloody finale.

Dir: Scooter Corkle
Star: Dianna Agron, Shawn Ashmore, Rachelle Lefevre, Michael Rogers

The Russian Bride

★★★
“Gothic Grand Guignol”

For the first, perhaps, three-quarters, this feels almost more like a Lifetime Original Movie. Then, at the end… Hoo-boy. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shall we? It begins with Nina (Orlan), seeking to escape a fraught life in Russia, for her and her young daughter, Dasha (Pimenova). Through an online dating service, she meets Karl Frederick (Bernsen), and they eventually move to America to be with him. While he’s an older gentleman, initially they seem to have struck it lucky, for he’s a rich, retired surgeon, who owns a massive estate in the country. In fact, you could say it seems almost too good to be true…

Which, of course, it is, despite the rapid marriage which follows. Even if you’re not aware of Bernsen’s long, distinguished career of playing psychos of various flavours (going back at least to The Dentist in 1996), the warning signs quickly pile up. The antagonistic housekeeper. Karl’s coke habit. The forbidden wing of the house. Apparently spooky occurrences. The random attack dog. A precarious, highly-pointy chandelier hanging in the hallway. The previous wife and child Karl “forgot” to mention. Though these all pale in comparison to the sight of Bernsen’s buttocks, and are before we get to his attempt outright to dispose of Nina in a riding accident. It’s clear he is rather more interested in Dasha than her mother. The only questions remaining are, to what purpose, and what is Nina going to do about it, to protect her daughter and herself.

The latter question is of particular relevance here, and is best answered by the picture on the right, depicting Nina in a blood-drenched wedding gown. To call the final act of this berserk would be an understatement. Shotgun blasts to the head and hands. Multiple hammers to the head. And, of course, the much anticipated attack of the highly-pointy chandelier. It’s as if the Lifetime channel production was hijacked by Rob Zombie and Eli Roth for the final week. And possible the maddest element of all? It’s triggered after the heroine falls face-first into Karl’s stash of Colombian marching powder, in echoes of the peyote-driven rampage we enjoyed in Revenge.

Ojeda is no stranger to this site, having previously given us Savaged. If you’ve seen it, then the latter part of the film makes considerably more sense – if anything, it’s the earlier going which is more out of character to that. However, it’s also the biggest weakness; as detailed above, the script is seriously guilty of overloading the film with Ominous Goings-On [capitals used deliberately], to the point any half-responsible mother would be “Peace, out”, and taking her child on the first plane back to Russia. There are times when less is more, and the first three-quarters of the film demonstrate this. However, there are also times when more is more. And, boy, the last quarter are an example of that, just as much.

Dir: Michael S. Ojeda
Star: Oksana Orlan, Corbin Bernsen, Kristina Pimenova, Lisa Goodman

Don’t Cry Mommy

★★½
“And the first shall be last”

I say that, since this Korean film appears to have been at least a partial inspiration for not one, but two Bollywood films which were recently reviewed here: Maatr and Mom. And, indeed, Thai telenovela Revenge also has something of the same theme: a mother who seeks vengeance against those who raped her daughter. If I’d seen this first, it would probably have had a greater impact. As is, even though not the film’s fault, it feels over-familiar. What is the film’s fault is a tone which appears engineered to be as depressing as possible, by any means possible. While fair enough in some aspects – you can’t argue it’s inappropriate for the material – this reaches its peak in an unforgivably melodramatic moment where a cake shows up with the title of the film on it. I’m fairly sure that eye-rolling and a derisive snort was not the intended reaction.

It does possess a couple of minor twists. When daughter Eun-Ah (Nam) is assaulted by a gang of fellow scholars, they videotape the attack. The threat of posting this is then used to blackmail her into further humiliating acts. It’s not really much of a surprise when this eventually triggers further tragedy. To the film’s credit, it’s not very interested in the assault, which is depicted in just a few seconds; it’s certainly not emphasized or stressed in the way some entries in the rape-revenge genre do. However, neither does it seem particularly interested in the revenge side, which is crammed into the last 20 minutes or so, in an almost perfunctory fashion. There’s no sense of catharsis to be found for Yoo-Lim (Yoo Sun), and by extension, not for the audience either. Which may be the point –  yet it doesn’t make for much… “fun”. Not that it’s impossible for a depressing film to be worthy, from Grave of the Fireflies through to Requiem For a Dream. However, it’s really not why I’m a fan of the girls with guns genre.

But the main problem is, it’s all too predictable, by no small measure. This was apparently based on a real Korean case, but in that, the perpetrator was herself raped at the age of nine, and waited twenty-one years before killing her attacker. I can’t help thinking that, while it might have been more difficult to turn into a screenplay, it would definitely have been a take with which I’m not familiar. Instead, this offers just another parade of predictable developments, ticking off boxes as it goes. If I’ve seen one scene in the courtroom where a group of smirking assailants get off with little or no punishment, I’ve seen half a dozen. It has gone beyond a trope, and the execution here does nothing to alleviate the severely cliched nature of the sequence. It is a pity, as I can’t fault either lead actress for their performance, which put over no shortage of emotional anguish. I just wish it had been in the service of a better story.

Dir: Yong-han Kim
Star: Yoo Sun, Nam Bo-ra, Shin Dongho, Yu Oh-seong

Sweet Justice (2009)

★★
“In need of significant support.”

Four women run a charitable agency in Texas, helping single mothers track down and obtain child support payments from deadbeat dads. However, they don’t limit themselves to the simple serving of legal papers. The women adopt a more… hands-on approach, shall we say, first luring their targets in with the promise of sex, then threatening them at gunpoint, to make sure they pay up. For obvious reasons, the cops soon take interest in this string of unusual armed robberies. Meanwhile, the city’s white mayor, is dealing with a domestic crisis of her own, thanks to her daughter having had a child by (gasp!) a black man.

Y’know, woeful though this is in many ways, I actually somewhat respect the intent and the topic: at least its heart is in the right place. It seems like I have seen a lot of female vigilante films of late, and too many of them seem to descent into undiluted man-hating. This does a better job than most of avoiding that. There are times when the agency’s female clients are actually wrong, identifying the wrong man as their “baby daddy”, and some men are actually trying to do the right thing as well, such as the father of the mayor’s grandchild. It’s all considerably more even-handed than I expected, and does a decent job of highlighting just how screwed-up the current system is, failing almost everyone involved. However, social commentary, no matter how well-intentioned, is generally pretty low on the list of things I’m looking for on this site.

It doesn’t help that the execution is laughable in most regards, with few of those involved in front of the camera giving any indication of being genuine professionals. To be fair, the actresses generally come off slightly better than the “actors,” who appear to be a selection of wannabe rappers. But the story is ridiculously implausible as well, and morally dubious, too: is armed robbery really an appropriate and measured response to failure to pay child support? You’ll definitely have time to consider such things, during the many slacker-paced scenes. The cops are spectacularly incompetent too, though this is stupidity necessary to the plot, otherwise the vigilante squad would be locked up inside fifteen minutes. This perhaps therefore deserves slightly more slack.

There isn’t even any particular escalation or closure to be seen here. The sole thread which gets properly resolved involves the mayor, who eventually comes to terms with her grandchild’s parentage, and quits the re-election race in favour of her family. That’s nice. The vigilantes just continue on their serene way, as if this were some kind of pilot for a banal TV series. It all feels less like a coherent or interesting feature film, than an excuse for the director to hang out with a few of his pals and some local musicians. To anyone outside that clique, there’s little here of interest, and it’s certainly as forgettable as its remarkably generic title.

Dir: Arthur Muhammad
Star: Tammy Thomas, Reagan Gomez-Preston, Shannon Ashe, Z-RO
a.k.a. Black Angels

Darlin’

★★★½
“Mother of all predators”

This strange little film probably makes more sense if you’ve seen The Woman, in which a feral cannibalistic woman, played by McIntosh, was captured and kept in the basement of a dysfunctional family. While this features McIntosh in the same role, it does work as a standalone film: its predecessor may help explain some of the background. Here, the woman drops off her equally uncivilized teenage daughter (Canny) at a hospital. Unsure of quite how such an unusual child should be handled, Darlin’ – called that, because of a bracelet spelling that out which she is wearing – is handed over to the Catholic church.

In particular, to St. Philomena’s Home, a dubious institution run by an even more dubious Bishop (Batt). He sees in Darlin’ the chance for his parish to make a name for itself by “redeeming” their new ward in the name of the Lord, which would help them stave off an impending financial crunch. But when the Woman returns to the hospital, and finds her daughter is no longer there, it quickly becomes clear that she will go to any lengths to recover Darlin’ and punish those who are trying to exploit her. And even though the teenager is no longer quite the wild child she was, as the saying goes: You can take the child out of the woods, but you won’t necessarily take the woods out of the child…

McIntosh is probably best known for her work on The Walking Dead. But on this site, we adore her for Let Us Prey, and her directorial debut is little if any less savage. However, it is probably fair to say that the script – also written by McIntosh – tries to cram too many things into its pages, and comes up short as a result. Not to say there aren’t moments of supreme effectiveness. Just that they are diluted by the film’s desire to go in so many different directions. For example, despite the Woman’s apparently inexorable quest for Darlin’, she vanishes for much of the second half, instead just hanging round a homeless women’s encampment to no particular purpose. It’s a shame, as I don’t think I’ve seen a more genuinely scary female character in a film for a very long time. [Though Darlin’ doesn’t fall far from that tree, at least initially]

The rest is more hit or miss. Going after the Catholic Church for child abuse is… Well, it feels kinda obvious, though there’s a righteous anger here which does at least seem honest. And the civilized version of Darlin’, despite now being able to communicate through speech rather than growls, seems less interesting, as if she had lost much of what separated her from any other teenage girl. Neither of these really work so well, as the more linear concept of a mother prepared to do absolutely anything to reclaim her daughter, which is when the film is at its best and most memorable.

Dir: Pollyanna McIntosh
Star: Lauryn Canny, Bryan Batt, Nora-Jane Noone, Pollyanna McIntosh

Mom

★★★½
“God can’t be everywhere.” “I know. That’s why he created mothers.”

This strong Indian tale of revenge and (step)mother love was, sadly, the last major appearance for its star. Sridevi accidentally drowned in a Dubai hotel, a few months after the film was released. But it’s a wonderful monument to her talent. She plays Devki Sabarwal, a biology teacher who is having trouble in the relationship with her teenage step-daugher, Arya (Ali). But everything changes after Arya is abducted while leaving a party, raped and beaten, then thrown into a roadside ditch. The fact Arya had been drinking is used to discredit her testimony, and the absence of forensic evidence helps her attackers walk free. Blood relation or not, Devki isn’t having that. With the help of private eye DK (Siddiqui), she starts to impose her own kind of justice, despite the increasing suspicions of Detective Francis (Khanna).

At 146 minutes, it’s certainly too long, though this is par for the course in Bollywood. And, at least, the makers wisely abstain from any musical numbers (there are some songs which are a little too foregrounded for my tastes). Despite the length, you’d be hard pushed to call any of it dull, and it’s effective stuff – occasionally, very much so. The assault, for example, isn’t seen. Instead, we follow the car in which it happens from above – pausing as the perpetrators get out to swap sides – before Arya is dumped. Despite, or perhaps because of, such restraint, it packs an undeniable punch. Similarly, the dialogue, such as at the top, between Devki and DK, is sharp and makes you sit up and pay attention, and it’s generally smarter than you’d expect.

In particular, the sequence where she poisons one target with apple seeds, then frames another for the crime. Initially, I was, “Wait, what?” But, some Googling told me seeds contain small amounts of a compound called amygdalin: when chewed or (as here) ground up, this turns into highly toxic hydrogen cyanide. Who knows this stuff? A biology teacher like Devki, that’s who. It’s an interesting exercise to compare and contrast the approach here to Revenge, which covered a not dissimilar topic of a mother seeking justice after the gang-rape of her daughter goes unpunished. Both film and TV series lean heavily on their lead actress, and in each, they are up to the job.

Revenge has the advantage of greater length at which to explore the idea, and when the vengeance comes, it’s considerably more satisfying and brutal. This is perhaps a little too restrained, and the subplot of Arya being Devki’s step- rather than biological daughter feels a bit unnecessarily tacked-on. Mother’s mad skills at breaking and entering are a little unexplained, too. However, I did appreciate the cops’ underestimating her, initially believing her husband to be responsible, and letting Devki get about her work. And if you aren’t standing on your chair and cheering at the end, after Arya calls her “Mom” for the first time…

Dir: Ravi Udyawar
Star: Sridevi, Nawazuddin Siddiqui, Akshaye Khanna, Sajal Ali

Revenge

★★★★
“The mother of all vengeance stories.”

This is the first Thai TV series I’ve seen, and while I suspect it’s not exactly par for the course, I found it undeniably impressive. Behind a generic title, it’s easily the most intense of the telenovelas I’ve seen, regardless of location. [Note: various sources have different names for the characters: for consistency, I’m giving the ones used by Netflix] It’s a long, extended rampage of vengeance, in which the heroine, Maturos (Panyopas), goes after the perpetrators of a particularly vicious group-rape. The assailants are a local gang, who extract revenge on both Maturos and her daughter, Peung (Ruayruen), following their co-operation with the police. It’s an assault which leaves Matukron almost catatonic, and when half the gang are found not guilty in the subsequent trial, Maturos opts to find her own justice, adopting a variety of characters to get close to them. But the killing comes at the cost of her own sanity, which splits her personality into two: a caring and compassionate half, and an alternative persona which demands ever-more savage vengeance.

The story is told in the context of Maturos’s trial, so we know there’s no question of her getting away with it [that would probably have been a step too far!]. But will she get the death penalty, life imprisonment, or be found not guilty by reason of insanity? The show unfolds in flashback, occasionally interrupted with moments from the trial, telling the story of how she came to be facing multiple charges of murder. It begins with mother and daughter leaving their abusive husband and father. It’s the resulting precarious financial situation, moving them into a flat in a less than desirable neighbourhood, and bringing them into contact with the gang. They accidentally come into possession of a drug stash belonging to the posse, and hand it over to the authorities.

This triggers the brutal punishment on them both, on top of a building during a storm. It’s a lengthy ordeal, which occupies much of episode #4, with Maturos and Peung left lying on the roof. Though the police are able to arrest the suspects, the rain washes away much useful forensic evidence; only three of the seven are convicted, despite the best efforts of Inspector Patorn (Tangtong). He feels responsible for what happened, and had been somewhat involved in a relationship with Maturos before the attack. Afterward, however, that quickly proves to be impossible.

Indeed, it’s not long before Maturos’s alter ego, Roong, starts to show up. At first, she is subservient, appearing only in mirrors, but gradually becomes to dominate, taking control for much of the time. Not helping matters – though it is one of the most interesting angles – is the encouragement of Yuki Fukushida (Amratisha), who rescues Maturos from an abduction attempt by her ex-husband. Yuki runs a “victim’s support group”, for those abandoned by justice. It’s really more to do with helping them acquire the necessary set of skills to punish those who did them wrong. Needless to say, her encouragement doesn’t do much for our heroine’s sanity, instead letting her tap into her inner psychopath. The ex-husband is the first to experience that.

For the four unconvicted perpetrators, the pattern in the following episodes is similar. As shown on the poster (above, right), Maturos adopts a range of disguises – old woman, porn distributor, bar girl, human trafficker, or even a man – in order to get close to them. Having done so, eventually, she strikes, rendering them helpless, most typically with a sedative injection. She makes them record an apology to Peung, before finally dispatching them – albeit only after removing their genitals. Their deaths are never quick or easy, and are depicted at quite some length, as well as with a brutality which I found surprising. Thai TV may have severe limitations on sexual content, but violence is clearly seen as much less of a problem.

As the body count increases, the remaining gang members grow increasingly suspicious, and harder to track. Inspector Patorn is also beginning to put two and two together, and Maturos’s psychiatrist, Dr. Nattha, discovers her patient’s split personality, meeting Roong. Even after Patorn realizes her involvement in the murders, he agrees to let her act as bait to lure in the three remaining gang members, who have escaped from prison and, having reached the same conclusion, are coming for their own revenge.

But Maturos is playing a longer game, and it all builds to a final confrontation on the same rooftop where it began. As the image on the left suggests, she ends up going full Silence of the Lambs, wearing the face of one of her targets as a mask, and her final “disguise”. Though we still have to wait for the court’s verdict on her fate, with the case triggering a national debate regarding the death penalty, in addition to the question of Maturos’s culpability.

As on screen, so in real life, with the series proving a word of mouth hit in Thailand, and sparking similar discussions on the criminal justice system. The show’s ratings improved from as low as 1.3 in the early going, partly due to a late-night slot resulting from its content, reaching 3.7 for the finale. Deservedly so, because it was very effective: a real page-turner in televisual form. It certainly doesn’t pull any punches, and seems to be radically different from the typical “lakorn”, as the popular soap operas in Thailand are known. Though a 2014 study discovered that 80% of them depicted rape or sexual violence, I suspect few did so in such an uncompromising way as here.

It may, indeed, perhaps go too far occasionally. Chris largely lost her sympathy for Maturos, after watching her bring Peung along on one of her murders – even I have to admit, that is fairly questionable parenting, split personality or not. And watching the heroine don blackface in her prostitute character was perhaps something which didn’t transfer well, culturally. However, given the length of the series (24 x 50-minute episodes), such mis-steps are infrequent, and more than balanced out by a great performance from Panyopas. That’s especially so when she’s acting opposite her malevolent self, in a way which feels almost like a maternal version of Gollum.

It’s her portrayal which glues the series together; outside of sensei Yuki, the supporting cast of characters feel more functional than memorable, on both sides of the law. How successful you find the show as a whole is thus likely heavily dependent on how convincing you find her performance. Personally, I was more than satisfied with it, and while this may be optimistic, hope to find similar quality elsewhere in the lakorn genre.

Dir: Sant Srikaewlaw
Star: Lalita Panyopas, Pornsroung Ruayruen, Saksit Tangtong, Rudklao Amratisha
a.k.a. Lah (The Hunt)

The Odds

★★
“Odds against.”

A woman (Butler) agrees to take part in a contest. live-streamed for betting purposes, where 20 players are put through a series of tests, designed to push them to the physical and mental breaking point, with the (literally) last person standing getting a million dollars. Her only associate is the Game Master (Fuertes), who oversees the challenges and relays the results from the other location to her. Initially, it seems like he is on her side, cheerleading and encouraging her. But the further into the event she proceeds, the more questionable his actions become, to the point where she begins to doubt everything he tells her.

It’s a not-exactly subtle metaphor for abusive relationships: once you’ve realized this, the impact is like being repeatedly whacked across the nose with a newspaper. I get it. I GET IT. I GET IT!!! Which is why it starts off with the man being super-nice and friendly, only to become completely controlling, and potentially “gaslighting” the woman with false information, playing his own game of manipulation in an effort to keep her obeying him. All far too obvious: a pity, since a straightforward rendition without the undertones, could have been perfectly fine. The unnamed woman is apparently taking part to make up for past transgressions involving her child, which is plenty to have driven the story, yet this aspect is largely forgotten as we move on.

The structure of the game doesn’t make sense either. After the five preliminary rounds (involving fire, rats, drilling, drowning and de-digitification, should you want to know), it turns into a game of Russian Roulette. Whose outcome is entirely determined by luck, rather than being any particular measure of endurance. Might as well have watched the heroine playing a slot-machine for a bit. Even the film eventually seems to realize the limited interest of repeatedly watching someone pulling a trigger and it going click. For it opts to skip through the rounds with increasing speed, in order to reach the final denouement, where everything you’ve learned might or might not be wrong.

This is clearly one of those films which were written to be cheap, with two speaking roles and a single location. I don’t fault it for that: it’s wise for any film-maker to build something which fits the available resources, and the main thing is that both leads here are decent. Butler, in particular, has an intensity about her which goes a long way to making you understand why someone might sign on for something like this. But my level of interest was far from consistent. It started off high enough, lured in by the interesting concept. However, it dropped off due to the unimaginative nature of the challenges. Things perked up for a bit when I realized the metaphor aspect. At least until I realized it was going to grind the whole thing into the ground, which also made it too easy to predict what would happen next. That’s where enthusiasm settled, and I’m willing to bet you can find more effective uses for your viewing time.

Dir: Bob Giordano
Star: Abbi Butler, James J. Fuertes

High-Rise Rescue

★★½
“All fired up.”

Architect Beth Davis (Bell) is just about to leave Chicago for a business meeting in Miami, when she hears there has been an explosion at the high-rise apartment building downtown, where she lives with husband Jack (Davis) and son Charlie (Arnold). Rushing back home, she finds the situation increasingly perilous, and the fire department unwilling to enter the unstable structure. Having been the person who designed the building, Beth is able to sneak in, with the aid of a sympathetic fireman, Ray Steele (Holmes, looking like a low-rent Tony Todd) on the outside, and begin the perilous climb to the 55th floor where Jack and Charlie are trapped in the bathroom.

When this sticks to the basic, Towering Inferno-like concept of Davis vs. fire, and the heroine making her way up through the burning building, this isn’t bad. There is some decent practical effects work, and although CGI is also used, it’s clear that someone is getting quite close to the flames – even if it’s unlikely to be Bell. The film switches focus frequently between her and her family, as the latter find themselves in increasing peril, despite the helpful advice offered over the phone by Ray. This is quite educational, and if ever I find myself trapped, six hundred feet above the ground and awaiting rescue, I feel I will be reasonably well-informed as to the best tactics for survival.

The problems are much more when the film attempts to build character through the backstory and dialogue, such as the subplot involving Beth and Jack’s shaky marriage, or their differences of opinion as to whether or not to have a second child (though in an admirable shift from what you’d expect, it’s Beth who is less than enthusiastic about the prospect). Watching them swapping dialogue which is so soapy, you could wash the floor with it, is painful – though likely still less cringeworthy than the scene where Ray reveals the personal life experience which resulted in him becoming a fireman. It’s ironic, since an early scene deliberately establishes that, “Fire doesn’t care who or what you are.” The same can probably be said for this viewer.

It’s all rather too implausible, from the moment live TV has a report on the explosion, within literally ten seconds of it taking place. I’m not sure the actions of the fire-brigade quite stand up to scrutiny either: the chief seems far too unconcerned about the civilians that are still present in the conflagration. I’d like to have seen them make more use of Beth’s position as the building’s architect, putting her specialist knowledge to good use, instead of all but forgetting about it, as soon as she enters the basement. The results just about skate by as a way to pass 90 minutes, mostly thanks to a decent performance from Bell. But it’s a long way short of being even disaster soft-porn, and will barely leave even a scorch mark on most surfaces.

Dir: Robert Vaughn
Star: Catherine Bell, Adrian Holmes, Greg Bryk, Sam Ashe Arnold

A Good Woman is Hard to Find

★★★★
“Hammer time!”

2020’s first seal of approval goes to this uber-gritty Irish film, starring Sarah Bolger, whose most familiar to us from Into the Badlands. While her GWG creds there are overshadowed by the likes oE Emily Beecham, safe to say Bolger makes up for lost time here. She plays single mother Sarah Collins, who is struggling to come to terms with the recent, unsolved murder of her husband. Barely managing to make ends meet, her life is upended when entry-level criminal Tito (Simpson) breaks in, seeking sanctuary. He has stolen some drugs belonging to top boss Leo (Hogg), and offers Sarah a cut of the proceeds if she’ll act as his safe-house. Very reluctantly, she agrees. Needless to say, it doesn’t go as they plan.

And that’s putting it very mildly. I won’t spoiler it, but there’s a reason she ends up visiting a hardware store, and weighing up whether an axe or a hack-saw is better suited for her “project” [the correct answer, it appears, is both…]. Yet, the character arc from mild-mannered mother who basically won’t say “Boo!” to a goose, into someone capable of going about with a bowling-bag of highly unpleasant content, is remarkably plausible. Because it’s almost all driven by fierce maternal love for her two children, one of whom has been traumatized into muteness by witnessing his father’s murder. Sarah will do anything to protect and provide for them, and as motivation for taking up a criminal lifestyle, it’s a far sight better than we got in the similarly themed Widows or The Kitchen.

It also does not soft-pedal its violence. The extended sequence where Sarah goes over the edge and becomes a killer for the first time, at one point almost teeters into farce with her first choice of weapon. But the further it goes on – to the point of death and beyond, the grimmer it gets. I was reminded of the line spoken by Macbeth: “I am in blood stepped in so far that should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o’er.” This is made clear from the opening scene, which sees a gore-drenched heroine taking to the shower, setting the scene for its subsequent savage tone. We only find out the source of the blood later, and it won’t be the last time it gets spilled.

It’s a spectacular performance from Bolger, portraying a woman who is ground down to almost nothing, before finding fate presenting her with an opportunity – albeit one which comes with a frightening cost in terms of her humanity. Yet her portrayal manages to take the audience along with the character on that journey. The rest of the cast pales in comparison, though it probably doesn’t help that non-British audiences may need subtitles for some of the dialogue; even I was going “What?” at some points, particularly for Tito’s lines. Still, neither that nor some suspiciously convenient skill with a firearm (likely a necessary contrivance) are sufficient to derail a thoroughly successful slab of Irish noir.

Dir: Abner Pastoll
Star: Sarah Bolger, Edward Hogg, Andrew Simpson, Jane Brennan