Tag: psycho

Sever

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★★
“When you order À l’interieur on Wish…”

The French film À l’interieur (a.k.a. Inside) is one of the most ferocious and intense of all action-heroine films. It’s the story of a pregnant woman who has to defend herself and her unborn child from an absolute psycho who turns up on the doorstep of her remote house one night. This film, more or less, has the same plot. It is, however, a pale imitation in just about every single way. Where À l’interieur was spare and taut, this is bloated and meandering. When it had nothing but excellent performances, the ones here are largely poor or worse. And while the French movie delivered on its hellish premise, this possesses almost no impact at all.

The targets here are Cord (Caillouet) and Mindy (Kavchak), an apparently happily married couple, who are having a weekend getaway at their family retreat, deep in the Rocky Mountains. Their vacation is interrupted by the arrival on their doorstep of a stranger, a woman who claims to need help. With the cabin having no phone, and ‐ this is my thoroughly unsurprised face – being out of cellphone range, Cord invites her to stay the night, without even consulting his wife. This is the first of many truly poor decisions the couple will make. For the woman is Martha (Cruz), who recently staged a brutal escape from the psychiatric facility in which she was incarcerated, and is now intent on making her unwitting hosts, Cord in particular, pay for the sins of the past.

Which is part of the issue: the resulting narrative is so convoluted it becomes ridiculous. Though especially in the final act, I actually found myself thoroughly amused by its excesses. The problem is, I think I was supposed to take it seriously. Yeah, that’s gonna be a “No” from me, dawg. The other big flaw are the performances of Kavchak and, especially, Caillouet. The former is flat and thoroughly unconvincing as a woman in peril of her life. She is still Oscar-worthy compared to the oak wardrobe which is her on-screen husband, delivering lines with all the energy of an airport departure announcement. A cord of wood might have made a better Cord.

The only thing which kept this watchable was Cruz (credited as Batya Haynes). Her bible-spouting religious fruitcake was a genuinely scary creature, truly devoted to her philosophy of life. If it may not be one with which you can agree, it is possible to see where she’s coming from. You certainly have to admire the commitment to her chosen purpose, even though such fanaticism is terrifying at the same time. It’s just a shame it’s not a performance in the service of a better movie. I’ve just realized I’m not even sure if Mindy actually was pregnant. If so, it never played much part in proceedings. I suspect I may simply have spliced that plot-point in from another, far superior one. No prizes for guessing where.

Dir: Matthew Ryan Anderson
Star: Batya Cruz, Maia Kavchak, Garret Caillouet, Phyllis Spielman

Ride or Die

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★½
“Die, please.”

This is not to be confused with the rather higher profile i.e. it’s available on Netflix, Japanese film with the same title, made the same year, and covering a not dissimilar theme. Both are about a woman who is prepared to commit murder, in order to save their best friend from an abusive relationship. However, after the killing in question, the films take divergent paths. The Japflix version becomes a road-trip movie, with the killer and her friend going on the run. This, however, focuses heavily on the killer, whose already fragile mental state falls apart completely, after she discovers that things weren’t quite as she had been led to believe. It’s not her first time at the homicide rodeo either.

For that to work, it needs to have a convincing relationship at its core, and this fails miserably on that level. Ashley (Allen) may be willing to do anything for Mandy (Brooks), but we are never shown why this might be the case: just told it, and expected to accept this at face-value. It’s less credible than the BFFs in Jennifer’s Body, and that is a low bar indeed. It doesn’t help that Brooks is, to put it bluntly, one of the worst actresses I’ve seen given a major role in a movie for a very long time. Yet she’s not ever the worst in this movie: that goes to the “grandmother” who recites her lines from off-screen. My granny would have delivered them with greater conviction, and she has been dead for approaching forty years.

Allen is, at least relatively, watchable, with a smokey voice which makes her resemble a young version of Yancy Butler. The film did manage to hold my attention for about 20 minutes. This began with Ash shooting the abusive boyfriend (Rehman) in the face, and having to deal with an unexpected witness (Blundon), and runs through the revelation that upends Ashley’s worldview. However, the movie singularly fails to do anything significant with it, and all the hallucinatory nonsense thereafter, with Ash being visited by her victims, was completely unable to re-ignite my interest. There is zero development, and too many strands are painstakingly set up, only to go nowhere, e.g. the nosy waitress, another performance which it would be kind to call thoroughly wretched.

The complete lack of any official interest in the killing spree is understandable, the budget clearly not stretching to any forces in authority. Yet this does not excuse the second half degenerating into dull scenes of Ashley driving around, mindless chit-chat or PG-rated lesbian canoodling with more people who can’t emote their way out of a moist paper-bag. In (marginal) defense, they are not helped by a number of scenes apparently being re-dubbed in post, or a musical score that doesn’t so much complement the on-screen action, as compete vigorously with it for attention. It’s a race to the bottom there, and neither aspect gets out of here alive.

Dir: Aly Hardt
Star: Vanessa Allen, Hannah Brooks, Celeste Blandon, Raavian Rehman

The Girl Who Got Away

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★★★
“The plot that got away.”

This isn’t the first movie I’ve seen, in which a woman escapes apparent death at the hands of a serial killer, only for them to track her down years later. However, the twist in the narrative here, which perhaps pushed it over the necessary boundary for inclusion on the site, is that the killer is also female. The victim is Christina Bowden (Johnson), who as a young girl was the sole survivor of Elizabeth Caulfield (Tuckerman) and her “child farm”, for want of a better phrase. Bowden has slowly put her life back together and is now a school teacher. She’s also looking to adopt another troubled teen, Lisa Spencer (McCarthy), and pay it forward. Then she gets a visit from local sheriff Jamie Nwosu (Iwuji).

For Caulfield has escaped during a transfer, and may be heading to finish what she started. Jamie does what he can to offer protection, but the stress is clearly taking an increasing toll on Christina and her psyche. Her relationship with Lisa disintegrates ad she tries to keep her in the dark about her own past.  Then dead bodies start to pile up. At first, it seems Caulfield is the obvious suspect, until the victims become people about whom she wouldn’t even know about, let alone have any reason to kill… If you are anything like me, you’re perhaps a bit ahead of the story, and there are some elements where you wonder why everyone is so slow to put the pieces together.

To the film’s credit it doesn’t stretch these aspects excessively. On the other hand, I still have questions about a number of the developments in the final act, some of which had me muttering “Hang on a moment…” under my breath. I’m prepared to cut it a certain bit of slack, for what had been a slow burn to that point, suddenly turned on the nitrous, and went fairly intense grand guignol. It’s a trade-off I’m usually prepared to make. It does help balance a movie that does feel overlong at 116 minutes, with elements in the early going, that never come to any particular fruition. I’d rather have seen more of Caulfield, who is backgrounded too far to be a truly effective horror threat.

That may at least be somewhat deliberate, as this isn’t exactly the horror movie implied by the poster. It’s perhaps more of a psychological drama, with thriller components. Regardless of genre or marketing, the performances are generally solid though. Johnson does an effective job of playing someone with a rough past, whose future suddenly does not look all that bright either. Over the course of proceedings, it’s certainly one hell of a character arc, and the audience are more or less compelled to go along with her, willingly or not. I can’t say it’s entirely successful as an entity, yet there are moments here that are effective enough. It may have been almost two hours, yet I didn’t feel they were entirely wasted.

Dir: Michael Morrissey
Star: Lexi Johnson, Chukwudi Iwuji, Willow McCarthy, Kaye Tuckerman

A Serial Killer’s Guide to Life

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★★½
“Too politely British for its own good.”

Lou Farnt (Brayben) is stuck in her life, with a dead-end job, no apparent friends to speak of, and still living with her domineering mother (Ball). She seeks escape from one self-help guru after another, spending her money on their books, DVDs and audio-tapes, though with little or no apparent positive results. Then, she meets the unconventional Val Stone (Roe), who lives in a seaside caravan and promises to change Lou’s life forever. After some qualms, she agrees to depart with Lou, who does indeed deliver on her promise. For, as the title suggests, Val is a psychotic if smart killer, who is specifically targetting those same gurus. Either she regards them as a curse on humanity with their vapid schemes, or she simply wants to dispose of the competition.

It seems clear that writer-director Roe holds a strong, likely personal grudge against self-help tutors, in order to create a movie which is largely based on showing their flaws, and then killing them off. This isn’t a cause I particularly care about: if not my cup of tea, I’m sure some people find them helpful. So this naturally limited my buy-in to the concept here. Kill off social media “influencers,” reality TV celebrities or Los Angeles Dodgers fans, and I’d be right there with you. Motivational speakers? Meh. It is somewhat amusing how naive Lou is, in regard to Val’s extra-curricular activities, and how long it takes her to realize she is taking life advice from a psychopath.

When she does, her reaction is little more than a shrug, admitting it feels quite empowering to kill. The movie really needs to buy into this concept considerably further, rather than gently nodding its head. The likes of Killing Eve have shown even we British can engage in a gleeful embrace of the darker side of things. The script here is simply too gentle for the subject matter, not least with much of the violence happening off-screen. We never get much insight into what makes it particularly empowering, since there’s no sense of catharsis for Lou. These aren’t people who have wronged her in any way, more than the most superficial. Unless “being annoying” is a capital crime? In which case a lot of people are in trouble…

I enjoyed Roe’s performance, which does have much of the same failure to give a damn as Villanelle in Eve. But how much you get out of it may depend on two things. Firstly, how long you see the end twist coming before it’s announced. Note: not if, when. For it’s one that most viewers will see coming, especially if they are familiar with a couple of cult movies from 1999 and 2003, the latter reviewed here. The other issue is how much this bothers you. Personally, less than I’d have expected. Though that may reflect the film’s general lack of impact. It feels like the kind of horror-comedy which would rather invite you in for a nice cup of tea than horrify you.

Dir: Staten Cousins Roe
Star: Katie Brayben, Poppy Roe, Ben Lloyd-Hughes, Sarah Ball

Rendez-vous

  By

★★★★
“There’s so many crazy people out there…”

I did not originally expect to be reviewing this here. I watched it because of the technical elements, which I’ll get to in a bit. However, by the end, it does qualify – though you certainly wouldn’t think so from how things begin. It gets underway with Lili (Puig) waiting for a date arranged over the Internet with Eduardo (Alcantara). He shows up late, very apologetic after having been mugged, and having had his phone taken, but is utterly charming, and the chemistry with Lili is immediate. They end up back at his place for dinner. But as he’s cooking on the kitchen, the tone of the evening changes, when she hears his supposedly stolen phone going off in his jacket…

That’s the beginning of a shift in content from warm romance into something considerably darker, and in which the dynamic changes several times before the final credits roll. As the above indicates, it initially seems that Eduardo is the problem. However, it’s considerably more complex, with Lili also having her own secrets. Quite how it’ll play out remains in doubt until the final scene, with the best-laid plans going astray along the route. I will say this though: if I ever engage in a kidnapping scheme, I won’t be answering the door to visitors. This does deliver some black comedy, when a drunk pal of Eduardo swings by, and wildly misinterprets the situation unfolding in front of his booze-filled eyes.

I mentioned the technical side. The hook here is the movie unfolds in a single, 100+ minute shot. Even more startling is what director Arrayales said: “We couldn’t afford another chance to shoot the movie again, so the movie is the only take we did. We really prepared hard, for three weeks with the actors, and a week with the DP just to plan the whole movie. That was about it: four or five weeks of rehearsals and one chance to make it.” Hard not to be impressed. While certainly not the first to use a single shot, most either fake it or, at least, get to use multiple takes. It’s a tribute to the makers that, after initially being the focus, you largely forget about the gimmick, with the story and characters taking over.

A good portion of the proceedings are more mental than physical. Eduardo pushes Lili for what he believes to be the truth, while she is resolute in stating he has got the situation very, very wrong. However, it eventually becomes more direct in its action, with a hunt unfolding around the two levels of Eduardo’s house (complete with make-up and effects artists sneaking around to apply their art out of shot!). You may well figure out the final direction before it happens, yet I’d be impressed if you accurately predict the specifics of the resolution. Though it’s not especially important if you do. Between the technical execution and the other elements, there’s more than sufficient elsewhere to justify the experience. 

Dir: Pablo Olmos Arrayales
Star: Helena Puig, Antonio Alcantara

Aileen Wuornos: American Boogeywoman

  By

★★
“Till death do she part.”

Almost twenty years after her execution, Aileen Wuornos remains a cultural icon. A very rare example of a genuine female serial killer, she was killed by lethal injection in 2002, after being convicted of six murders, and confessing to a seventh. The following year, Charlize Theron won an Oscar for her portrayal of Wuornos in Monster, though for me, the film about the killer which is the best, is Nick Broomfield’s, Aileen Wuornos: The Selling of a Serial Killer. It certainly deserves to be ranked among my favorite documentaries of all time, along with its post-execution follow-up, Aileen Wuornos: Life and Death of a Serial Killer. Any other version is going to have an uphill struggle in comparison, and this peters out into a trashy, tabloidesque tale, with perilously little connection to reality.

It does have an interesting structure, with a Broomfield stand-in (Sturgeon) interviewing Wuornos, the night before her execution. At this point, the killer is played by Ashley Atwood, and the make-up crew have done an amazing job, along with Atwood’s capturing of her target’s mannerisms. Wuornos then tells the interviewer the story of her short-lived marriage to yacht club president Lewis Fell (Bell), almost five decades her senior. During this, she confesses to several murders, including that of her brother, though the interviewer pulls her up, as her version doesn’t align with the known facts. This “unreliable narrator” element has potential, but is rapidly discarded – a shame, as what the film offers instead is rather pedestrian.

Overall, it’s not much more than a truish-crime take on pot-boilers like the Poison Ivy franchise, in which attractive young gold-diggers embed themselves in families, before revealing their murderous natures. Here, the young Wuornos (List), considerably more attractive than the Death Row version, charms her way into marrying Fell after just a couple of weeks, much to the concern and chagrin of his daughter, Jennifer (Hearst). We’ve already established Wuornos’s violent tendencies, and these escalate until she murders the family lawyer, who threatens to expose what he has uncovered about her past, unless she takes his cash offer and leaves town. It all builds to a late-night confrontation on a boat in a storm, which I’m fairly certain is entirely fictional.

Farrands has carved out a niche for himself in this kind of not-so-true crime movie, his previous subjects having included Ted Bundy, the Manson killings and O.J. Simpson. Maybe they are more than a shallow skim, with stories which are not largely made up, and provide more insight into their subjects. This has little to offer, and doesn’t have the enjoyably salacious elements of Poison Ivy, even when Aileen is consummating her marriage to her husband. If it had told the story of Wuornos’s whole life, especially with more from Atwood, it could have been worthwhile, especially if embracing the uncertainty around her version of events. Instead, the only real positive result was discovering the two Broomfield documentaries are on YouTube. Guess what I’m watching tonight.

Dir: Daniel Farrands
Star: Peyton List, Tobin Bell, Lydia Hearst, Hamish Sturgeon

Confessions of a Homicidal Prostitute: Demonatrix

  By

★½
“Nice title. Shame about the film.”

I must confess I have not seen Confessions of a Homicidal Prostitute, to which this is a sequel. It’s marginally possible, I suppose, that the character development, story and nuance were present there, and explain why these are all but entirely absent in its successor. I would not, however, be prepared to bet on it. I suspect the original was every bit as mean-spirited as this: and “suspect” is all I’ll ever do, because I won’t be making any effort to track it down. In fact, I probably wouldn’t watch it if my aged mother begged me to on her death-bed. Too harsh? Perhaps. Yet I don’t think I’ve ever seen a flat-out uglier film, in terms of largely repellent people being extremely unpleasant to one another, shot in a way that exacerbates its grimness. In its defence, that may be the point. Again: may. It could also just be torture porn of the lowest-rent kind.

From what I can gather, Lilith (Baun) is the titular hooker; I’m not sure if the weird contact lens she wears in one eye is a tribute to Christina Lindberg and her eye-patch in Thriller: A Cruel Picture? Anyway, she apparently got pushed over the mental edge by abuse, and responded to violence with violence. Here, she introduces gal pal and fellow prostitute Eve (Shenk) to the lair where Lilith carries out her torture and slaying. Eve is remarkably blasé about the whole, potential “accessory after the fact” thing, and politely declines to get involved, saying “I don’t think I could stomach it… Not for me!” This reluctance lasts about 30 minutes into the film, where she gets brutalized by the vicious Jackson (McGinnis). All of a sudden, she’s rather more gung-ho, a tendency encouraged by Lilith (“The empowerment you feel after you kill this bastard, will be indescribable”). After initially both being caught and tortured by Jackson, the pair are able to turn the tables on their captor, taking their revenge and sodomizing him with a metal pole.

They then begin a two-woman killing spree, washing the scum off the streets. There’s a montage sequence here, which is quite effective, and rescues the film from receiving the dreaded one-star rating. But otherwise, we’re dealing with content which is cheap and poorly-executed, and possesses little or no emotional impact at all. Weirdly, given the topic and grindhouse-oriented title, the only nudity present is extremely fake penises being abused. Otherwise, it’s remarkably chaste. Though, to be honest, I’m fine with the lead actresses keeping their clothes on. No worries there. I’m good. With special effects that are largely unconvincing, this doesn’t even work as a gore flick, and there’s no sense of development of plot or characters. I got to the end with no sense of.. well, anything. I was neither entertained, educated or appalled. Overall, it’s the kind of film where I wonder if I’ve spent more time writing this review, than was actually spent making the movie.

Dir: Emir Skalonja
Star: Casey Baun, Krystal Shenk, Paul McGinnis, Richard Ruiz

Revenge is Her Middle Name

  By

★★½
“Junkie. Whore. Mother?”

This is an unashamedly grimy item, whose main character, Cat (Brennan), we first meet turning tricks in a back-alley. She then goes home to her equally addicted boyfriend, Dolph (Schneider), whom she is trying to convince to get her pregnant. Eventually, her mission succeeds, and to provide for their impending child, they rob their dealer. Cat then bails on Dolph, leaving him to take the fall, and gets her act at least somewhat cleaned up, with the help of friend Marilynn (Bellin). Eight months later, however, neighbourhood boss Mutton Chop (Bell), shows up on her doorstep with his thugs, and extracts a particularly vicious form of revenge. Seven further years pass, and Cat is just about back to normal, when the violent behaviour of a man she meets in a bar awakens her inner Ms. 45. She’s soon cutting up his corpse with a hacksaw and stuffing it into garbage bags, then progresses to extracting long-dormant vengeance on her attackers.

There’s no doubt, this wears its grindhouse attitude mostly on its sleeve – except for a strange unwillingness on the part of its lead actress, to take off her clothes. There’s no shortage of gore, certainly, and it’s the kind of film after which you’ll probably want to take a shower. It wallows, unapologetically, in the worst that human nature has to offer. However, that’s as much a flaw as a strength. This kind of film works best – indeed, works at all – when you can feel some sympathy for the protagonist as she goes through hell. Here, that’s not the case. Cat is hardly a nice person, and is perhaps the best argument for forced sterilization I’ve seen in a long time: she hardly seems fit to be a mother, and comes over as an entirely selfish creature. Dolph is no more than a sperm-donor, and she spurns all Marilyn’s efforts to help her, until Cat wants them. The person I feel most sorry for, is her foetus.

The look of the film is considerably more low-fi than the poster, though it’s not inappropriate to the generally scuzzy atmosphere. It could probably have benefited from some trimming, as there are points where things do drag. The actual “revenge” which appears in large, red letter on the promo image, doesn’t arrive until well into the second half. I’d likely have started by editing out the pair of detectives, who serve no purpose at all. This is the kind of movie which needs to keep moving forward in order to hold the audience’s attention, as most of the performances are little more than functional, especially among the cartoonish villains. Credit to Brennan though, for going full throttle into her portrayal. By the end of this, if I was still some way short of liking her character, Cat was someone I’d certainly not want to cross. If I have no interest in seeing this again, I don’t feel as if the time was entirely wasted.

Dir: Anthony Matthews
Star: Lissa Brennan, Douglass Bell, Paula Bellin, Michael Todd Schneider

Brutal

  By

★★★
“Certainly lives up to its title.”

No-one does low-budget hyperviolence like the Japanese. Whether it’s pseudo-snuff like Guinea Pig: Flower of Flesh and Blood, or more fantastical entries such as Mutant Girls Squad, there have likely been more memorable entries from that country than any other. Note my use of the word “memorable”, as distinct from “good”, since they aren’t the same. I’d be hard pushed to recommend this to anyone, unless I knew they were predisposed to microbudget horror of a particularly savage type. I probably won’t ever watch it again. But I have to say this: I will remember it. As will Chris, who came in for the denouement, and was literally jaw-dropped by what she saw. I’m not going to spoil it, so apologies if some of what follows is a little vague.

The film is divided into three sections, and after the first one, called “Man”, you’ll be wondering what the hell it’s doing here. For it is a look at the work of a male serial killer (Butch), who kidnaps and tortures women. That’s basically it, for twenty minutes, and the director believes in getting as up close and personal as possible here, with many of the shots being literally “in the face” of either perpetrator or victim. This certainly enhances the claustrophobic intensity, though I could have done without the shaky-cam attempt to establish its cinema verite credentials. “Do you understand what I’m doing?” he demands of his prisoners. Sadly, the correct answer of “No, because you’re a loony” is never given.

Things get more interesting and relevant in the second section, “Woman”, where the roles are reversed. An unnamed woman (Ayano) honey-traps men back to her room, where she kills them. She has a particular fondness for repeated and enthusiastic stabbings in the crotch, which had me shifting uncomfortably on my chair. She’s also rather more psychologically inclined, conversing with her victims, rather than interrogating them. Though eventually, she brings home someone (Nishina) who is aware of her murderous intentions, and is intent on stopping her. The result is a bloody battle – again, shot in close-up – which swings one way then the other, before our “heroine” [quotes rarely used more advisedly] eventually prevails.

This sets up the third and final act, probably inevitably titled “Man and Woman”, in which the two killers cross paths. She follows him to his flat, apparently aware of his tendencies – how is never made clear. Barely have they crossed the doorstep before battle is joined. And if you thought the previous fight was vicious… Hoo-boy. This ends in a double-whammy of revelations, which make sense in one way – they’re clearly perfect for each other – but count among the more batshit crazy things I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen some things. While it is somewhat poignant, we know so little about any of the people involved (how could we learn much, given it’s barely an hour between opening and closing credits), the emotional impact is limited. Brutal though? Definitely.

Dir: Takashi Hirose
Star: Butch, Ayano, Takashi Nishina, Katrina Grey

Nicole

  By

★★★½
“Patience is a virtue.”

If you came into this with absolutely no previous knowledge (including the poster on the right!), you’d be forgiven if you spent the first forty minutes thinking this was an independent drama about the perils of professional dating life in the big city. Then, suddenly, it’s very not. But initially, it’s about Nicole (Shannon), who while she may be a little strange and anti-social, doesn’t seem all that far outside the bounds of normal behaviour. Well, I guess her carting a bottle of hard liquor to work, for drinking sessions in the bathroom, is somewhat problematic. Maybe her imagining dinner with her parents could be a bit of a red flag. [The film makes nice use of switching between b&w and colour, to separate reality from flashbacks and fantasy] But, all told, she’s fairly high-functioning.

That all changes when she goes out on a rare date with John (Green), whom she met through an online app. She’s simultaneously fending off advances from a co-worker (Busey) and neighbour (Lockhart) – it must be said, all the men here fall somewhere on the creepy/predatory spectrum. What we know, but Nicole initially does not, is that John is well toward the latter, with a fondness for date rape and every intention of adding Nicole to his list of dubious conquests. However, her day drinking has given her a remarkable tolerance for alcohol, so when he makes his move, she’s not as drunk as she should be, and fights back, with no shortage of vigour. As well as a knife. That’s where the tone of the film changes drastically. We’re not in Sex and the City any more, Toto.

The rest is considerably closer to pitch-black humour, as Nicole has to come to terms with the consequences of her actions. Realizing what John was intending, she decides simply to dispose of his body. This requires a late-night trip to the hardware store, where the Goth assistant nods approvingly at her selection of tools. Then there’s the actual dismemberment, not helped by John’s corpse continuing to talk to her throughout the process. For example, he requests a refill on his wine, only to realize it’s hard to drink since she’s removed his hands.

This disposal reminded me a little of A Good Woman is Hard to Find, though that was thoroughly serious. There are also elements of Ms. 45. in a blurring of the lines between reality and delusion, which are deftly handled. Regular readers won’t be surprised to learn I preferred this second half of the film. I was actually a bit disappointed things ended when they did, more or less with Nicole’s return to work, and in a maybe or maybe not more well-adjusted state. It felt there was mileage left on the table, with her further adventures as an IT worker, moonlighting as a killer of sexual predators. We can only hope for Nicole 2: Ax Me Anything at some point down the road.

Dir: James Schroeder
Star: Tamika Shannon, Stephen Green, Ke’Shawn Bussey, Tre Lockhart