Tag: urban

Snow Black

  By

★
“Put this on your blacklist. And that’s snow joke.”

This isn’t quite the worst action heroine film I’ve ever seen. That dubious honour still goes to Naked Avenger, I think. But this one certainly deserves to be in the conversation. I don’t think a movie has ever lost my interest so quickly. Literally before the opening credits rolled, I realized this was the kind of almost entirely undiluted rubbish, I wouldn’t waste five minutes on, if I didn’t have to for this site. How bad was it? The film is still on, and I’ve already started writing the review. That’s virtually unprecedented. The main problem is audio which appears to have recorded on a flip-phone, from the bottom of a swimming pool. It’s among the worst I’ve ever heard on a commercial release. Initially, I thought it might be the source, but the Prime Video version was just as intolerable. At least that version had closed captions.

The plot is no great shakes, though has some potential. Sarah Camden (Buckner) comes home from the Marines to bury her mother. While she’s at home, her little sister is killed on the streets of her local town. Sarah – code name Snow Black – realizes it has been taken over by gangsters and drug dealers, with even the mayor in their service. After her father is also murdered, she decides to clean up the neighbourhood. The issues with this are plentiful, beginning with the fact our heroine’s tattoos wouldn’t actually be allowed on a Marine. Then there’s the fact she doesn’t actually fight anyone much until 55 minutes in – and this only runs 80 minutes. While Buckner looks at least somewhat the part, when she finally gets into action, it takes place in slow-motion, presumably to disguise her lack of fighting ability. This is probably also the first time I found myself wishing for some rapid-fire editing. 

Let me be absolutely clear. There is hardly a single aspect of this, which is not excruciatingly incompetent. The only scene that is even slightly memorable is when Sarah’s Aunt Sydney goes into battle herself, taking on a barful of gang members. She’s played by former Bond girl Gloria Hendry, from Live and Let Die and Black Belt Jones. Now in her seventies, it’s not a great action sequence, to put it mildly. But that it happens at all, is the best thing the movie has to offer. They should have made the whole film about her and Sarah’s father, played by another veteran action star, Van Clief (the Black Dragon), who is approaching eighty. The concept of senior citizen vigilantes is something which might have done a better job of holding my attention. 

Instead, this is 100% one of those films which I had to sit through, so that you do not have to. Find something, anything else to do, and you can thank me later. Oh, hey: the end credits are now rolling. It’s clearly time to wrap this up.

Dir: Robert D. Parham
Star: Sarah V. Buckner, Robert D. Parham, Ron Van Clief, Humberto Gonzalez 

Pocket Full of Game

  By

★★
“Game, in only the loosest sense.”

Porsha (Nunez) – and before you ask, yes, that’s how it’s spelled in the credits – is a small-time hustler, operating in the dodgier neighbourhoods of New York. When getting away from her latest escapade, she bumps into the crew of Fresh (Garcia) and his pals, who are similarly engaged, having just robbed a drug dealer. Due to flakiness on the part of one of the team, they’re looking for a new member, and Porsha successfully convinces Fresh that she is a good fit for the role. However, the rest of the gang are less convinced, and force Porsha to prove her loyalty by committing cold-blooded murder. That does her head in, and she holes up in Atlanta for a bit. Returning, she finds Fresh and her former associated have moved on, and attempts to pull off a job on her own, to get back in their graces. It doesn’t go well, shall we say, and Porsha finds herself on Rikers Island, facing a double-homicide charge.

There are a number of concerns here, of varying levels. The biggest problem is that this is 126 minutes long, and doesn’t have anything like the content to justify such a running tine. Every other scene is unnecessary, or runs to excessive length, and this causes significant issues with pacing. The script frequently seems to forget about its own threads; for example, after one robbery, a survivor vows to take revenge on Porsha, Fresh and their associates, for their actions. This only happens at the very end, and the cinematic amnesia becomes increasingly aggravating as the movie diverts instead into another pointless shit-hop montage, or irrelevant flashback to Porsha’s childhood. Another difficulty is, the resources aren’t able to handle some of the demands of the script: it is extremely obvious that the court-room required by it, isn’t anything like the real thing. The same goes for the prison, and the film only ever reaches close to convincing, or even comfortable, when it’s operating on the streets.

On the positive side, Nunez’s performance is solid enough to work, though a lot of the cast may be better suited for supporting roles than lead ones.  There were also just enough scenes that worked to keep me from hitting the off-button. In particular, the sequence where she’s made to kill, is surprisingly shocking, even in a film that clearly has no qualms about casual violence (and whose morality is about as far from “crime doesn’t pay” as could be imagined – indeed, this seems to be a world where it’s the only employment available). The problem is, the ratio of these scenes to the those which are deficient, for one or more of the reasons explained above, is about 1:10. This is apparently based on a novel, and the trailer for the book [yes, that’s apparently a thing] calls it “A hood soap opera.” I can’t argue with that – though it’s not such a positive thing, as the makers seem to think.

Dir: Deborah Cardona
Star: Katherine Nunez, Carlos Garcia, David L Holley, Joey Ortiz

The Bag Girls

  By

★★
“From bag to worse.”

Firstly, the cast names listed below are copied verbatim from the movie. I can only presume that “Megan Thee Stallion” was unavailable, but seeing those names pop up in the opening credits does make it difficult to take a film seriously. It’s like you’re watching little children playing dress-up, and a whole level of recursive nonsense, with the actors playing roles, apparently playing roles in the their “real” lives. In other news: kids, get off my damn lawn.

The core pair here are Nola (Ms. The Doll) and Dee (Ms. The Boss. Or Maybe Ms. Love the Boss? Who knows). The former is a stripper, the latter her best friend, who catches her husband cheating, only to be punted to the kerb in favour of the mistress. To extract revenge. the pair recruit Daisy (James) and Crystal (Mi’chelle) and rob the husband. Discovering that crime represents an easier source of income than, say, working for a living, they continue their efforts, gradually working their way up to bigger scores. Eventually, they get a tip-off about a big drug-buy about to go down, but are under strict instructions to take only the cash, and leave the dope. Naturally, Daisy doesn’t listen, and the Cuban owners of the drugs are very keen to retrieve their product.

There’s nothing here you haven’t seen in better films. The film-makers even have their characters openly acknowledge some of the most obvious inspirations at one point or other. This is either extremely brave or perilously reckless, since low-budget movies probably don’t want to be encouraging comparisons with their big siblings:
– What the fuck you think this is, Set It Off, Part II?
– Bitch, this ain’t no motherfucking movie.
Well, actually – yes, it is. Even the title of the film is a result of them referring to each other during their robberies, by designer handbag brands: “We can call each other code names like colors, like Ms. Pink, Ms. Yellow, like they did in Reservoir Dogs, the Quentin Tarantino movie.” I don’t know whether or not to be amused that the writer felt the need to explain who made Reservoir Dogs. But I am amused that the reaction to the suggestion is “Fuck Quentin Tarantino!” Truly a sentiment all right-thinking people can get behind, and I’m not ashamed to say that line was worth an extra half-star.

There’s not much sense of progression here, and far too much time spent on the trappings of lifestyle e.g. a Vegas trip that looks like nothing so much as a bad rap music video, rather than giving the characters or the scenario real substance. There’s the inevitable tension between the members of the gang, before the equally inevitable shootout with the Cubans. What there is not, is any sense of plausibility; I don’t know about you, but I’m fairly sure that, unlike Dee’s husband, I’d recognize my own wife if she tried to rob me, mask or not. Hopefully, I’ll never get to test that theory.

Dir: Wil Lewis
Star: Crystal the Doll, LA Love the Boss, Samantha “3D Na’Tee” James, Carmen Mi’chelle

Candy

  By

★★★
“Houston, we have a problem…”

You’ll probably understand why that cover picture got me to pause my casual scrolling through Amazon Prime. Well played, movie producers. Well played… Likely inevitably, the film didn’t quite live up to the advertising, mostly due to a significant lack of plot. The film barely runs 65 minutes, before we get to a sloth-like end-credit crawl, and there’s probably not enough story-line to fill a music video for one of the gangster rap songs which pepper the soundtrack. Yet, in terms of atmosphere and setting, it feels authentic. I can’t state with certainty it is, never having been a) to Houston, b) black, or c) involved in large-scale criminal enterprise. But in cinema, feeling authentic is a large part of what matters.

Candy (Adams) can check all three of those boxes, being in charge of an urban Texas group whose business is apparently equally involved in drugs, and robbing others in the same line of work. She’s rather hands-on: with three other women, including her cousin, Dody (Caliste), they go invading homes, and the residents usually come off very much the worse for it. Though sadly, those exploits aren’t the main focus of the film. Indeed, it’s kinda hard to say what is. Most of it seems occupied with a series of vignettes; narrative drive is very much secondary, though these episodes are good at portraying the two sides of a criminal life: both the glamour and the brutality.

For instance, there’s a scene where the women go into a convenience store and Candy shoots the breeze with the owner, an OG called Mr. Mack (played by rapper Bun B), who’s now retired from the game to become a shopkeeper. Though Cody does meet someone significant there, in terms of the film, it’s not very important. However, it’s just a nice exchange, and the film has a number of others. They’re rarely dull, and it generally avoids getting bogged down in cliche. Eventually, we do find out that corrupt cop Soso (Smith) is planning to take out Candy and her crew, as they prepare that mainstay of gang films: a big score. In this case, shipping tons of drugs to St. Louis.

It’s just a shame the plot hadn’t been there from the beginning. Perhaps I’m too used to my narconovelas, which go to the other extreme, arguably cramming in too much. But even the way in which the climax here is resolved, is rather unsatisfying, relying on what feels like a bit of a cheat, and being based on information withheld from the audience. It’s a shame, as the framework is in place for something better than most of these urban films I’ve seen, such as Jack Squad or the cinematic hell which was Hoodrats 2. On the basis of this, how Candy came to be where she was, for example, might have been a more interesting story than what she did once she got there.

Dir: Nahala Johnson
Star: Sheneka Adams, Gina Caliste, Kendrick Smith, Jessica Kylie

Sweet Justice (2009)

  By

★★
“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

SheChotic

  By

★½
“You’ll need a break.”

Within about two minutes of starting this, I realized I had made a terrible mistake, and was watching something barely reaching the amateur level of film production. Still, I soldiered on – albeit for some loose definition of “soldiered” – until the bitter end, mostly so I could issue an informed warning about this to any prospective viewers. Maxine (Mitchell) is rather upset when she discovers her boyfriend, music video producer Lance (Watts) has been cheating on her with Lana (Bryant). Mind you, she’s clearly a bit unhinged already: for example, telling him she’s pregnant when she isn’t. So it’s not much of a surprise when her reaction to his two-timing is to kidnap Lance, tie him up in her basement and submit him to various indignities, along with seeking revenge on Lana. Which, apparently, includes sleeping with her father (Walker).

If this all sounds like completely ludicrous and implausible nonsense… I have done my job as a reviewer, because that’s exactly what it is, buttressed by poor audio quality, questionable directorial decisions (the conversation where the camera spins around the participants like a hyperactive house-fly was an especially dubious choice) and a final twist which managed to be both out of left field and entirely predictable at the same time. About the only thing which I did quite like, was the way Maxine’s personality splits into two distinct characters. One is urging her on to do ever more malicious deeds, while the other is trying to take a higher moral path. Surprisingly – considering the ineptness everywhere else – it’s decently handled on both sides of the camera. Even if I doubt anyone ever thought, “I want an erotic thriller which largely avoids actually nudity, with a black, female version of Gollum in it,” this aspect is likely responsible for this avoiding a dreaded and rarely awarded one-star rating.

I was amused by the po-faced disclaimer from the director which opens this: “Due to my strong convictions, I wish to stress that this film in no way endorses support of violence, abuse against women or other subject matter that may be considered offensive.” Several points come to mind. Firstly, if you have to add a disclaimer to your film like that, you’re doing it wrong. Secondly, it’s little more than empty virtue signaling anyway: It’d be far more notable if a director stated “I wholeheartedly endorse violence.” Thirdly, any abuse here is far more by women: what is Mr. Fiori’s stance on that? Sadly, it appears we will never know, save for the unlikely event of there being a SheChotic 2. Fourthly and finally, it’s never a good sign when the text which starts your movie is worthy of deeper analysis and commentary than 95% of what follows it. Though if it had instead simply read, “Abandon hope all ye who enter here,” it would certainly have been equally valid.

Dir: Leandre Fiori
Star: Erica Mitchell, Robert D Watts, Brittany Bryant, Jason Walker

Queen Pin

  By

★★½
“Thug life.”

Rhanni (Brown) falls for the notorious Florida drug-dealer Seven (Bird) hard – to the extent she’s prepared to overlook the fact he’s married. Instead, she becomes his best friend, and works alongside him in the pharmaceutical business. When he is gunned down by his rivals, Rhanni decides to take what she has learned and put it into practice. She assembles her team of loyal but brutal associates, and sets out to take over the town. This brings her unwanted attention from two groups. Firstly, the authorities, who are always seeking to snare one of her underlings, and get him to snitch on his boss. More lethally, there’s the mysterious “Genie”, the current top dog, whose face no-one has seen. Genie sends Lil’ Miller (Michele) to take out Rhanni, only for the hitwoman to throw her lot in with the intended target.

This is one of those where I am very clearly not the target audience, and I had to keep the closed captions on to figure out every second word – basically, the ones which weren’t “nigga”, sprinkled around here as frequently as a Valley Girl uses “like”. The only reason I mind, is because it gets pretty repetitive. Authentic? Possibly: I’m not exactly in a position to comment. The aim seems to be something like a distaff version of Scarface (or La Reina Del Sur, though this 2010 film pre-dates the TV series by a year), but the film just doesn’t have the budget to be able to deliver anything like its ambitions. As a result, those who are supposedly on the top of the heap, seems to spend a startling amount of time in cheap apartments and casual restaurants – the kind of place where, I kid you not, the shrimp alfredo arrives 30 seconds after the characters order it.

Credit this for being a little more thoughtful than I expected, with Rhanni eventually deciding to escape the thug life and start a record-label (no prizes for guessing how that goes), and a final moral that’s more effective than I expected. This might perhaps be because the director is a woman – something I wasn’t aware of, given a non-gender specific name, until the end credits where she is listed as playing a waitress. There’s definitely too much bad rap, playing almost permanently in the background, which does nothing to enhance the atmosphere, and at times the result feels more like a poverty-row music video than a genuine feature film. Despite this, I’m not averse to watching the sequel, which sees the return of Lil’ Miller – likely the most energetic and interesting character here.

But not Rhanni. For, in a creepy bit of art imitating life, Jokisha Brown was gunned down in an Atlanta parking lot in July 2016, a few months after her brother was shot dead at a Jacksonville strip-club. [Her ex-boyfriend was arrested the following April and is a “person of interest”, according to the most recent reports] That’s a level of method acting to which even Al Pacino wouldn’t go.

Dir: Gin X
Star: Jokisha “Dynasty” Brown, Krystal Michele, Jacoby “Beam” Freeman, Tearon “Nephew” Bird

Avenge the Crows: The Legend of Loca

  By

★★★½
“Though I’m still not sure what the title means…”

This feels like a low-budget project in many ways, but manages to punch above its weight, in part due to an impressive supporting cast. While Lou Diamond Phillips, Danny Trejo and Steven Bauer are nowhere near as important as their names on the cover might suggest, their presence provide a solid foundation on which the less well-known members of the cast can build. In particular, Danay García as Loca; having bailed on Fear the Walking Dead after about two episodes, I wasn’t aware of her, but on the basis of this, she’s a name on whom we’ll be keeping an eye.

Gabaeff, as well, has some interesting shots in his directorial locker. At times, this almost reminded me of Memento in the structure: it’s only at the end that you are given the necessary knowledge to  understand all that has happened. Even on a smaller scale, the layout is often fractured. More than once, a character gets a phone-call, and the film then jumps back in time, and over to the person on the other end of the line, to show what led up to them making that call. As such, it takes a bit of getting your brain around – yet the payoff, in the “Aha!” moment where you realize how it connects, is gratifying.

An interesting twist is that Loca is not the executor of the revenge, as is usually the case – she’s the target for it. Casper (Phillips) is in prison, but a henchman there, Joker (the genuinely scary-looking Flores), is about to be released. Joker is told to “send a message” to Loca, through her niece, Cammy (Rivera). But he goes further than Casper intended, and rapes Cammy. That starts Loca on a search for protection, but the gun-dealer she visits to acquire weapons turns out to be targeted for some retribution of his own, and Loca is dragged into that as well. Handling all this will require her to navigate dangerous waters, and bring together enemies to face a common foe.

There’s a strong scent of grim reality here: I don’t know if the tattoos everyone is sporting were “real” or not (likely a mix), but I don’t think I’ve seen a more inked-up feature. You get the feeling the people involved are largely familiar with the environment in question – not least, of course, Trejo, whose background as a felon-turned-star actor deserves to become a movie of its own. Here, he plays the owner of the bar where Loca hangs out, and is as gloriously gruff and down to earth as ever. The rest of the cast all fit their roles well. If the eventual resolution (where Bauer eventually turns up, after we had virtually abandoned hope!) feels a little unlikely and convenient, given the complexities of what had gone before, this doesn’t undo the generally solid work here. It’s better than I expected going in.

Dir: Nathan Gabaeff
Star: Danay García, Emilio Rivera, Michael Flores, Angelique Rivera

Diamond Dawgs

  By

★★
“Car trouble.”

It’s hard to believe a film rated two stars exceeded expectations, but when I saw this had scored just 1.7 out of ten on the IMDb, I was braced for something much worse. I mean, cross off the friends of the cast and crew who scored it a “10”, and 72% of voters have given it the lowest mark possible. Make no mistake, this isn’t great. It’s not even good. But this is not quite as irredeemably bad as that score would imply.

The story concerns the car thief gang of the title, including Ciara (Johnson) and Pretty (Manning), who work under the heavy thumb of South Central (Núñez). They target a party being held by rappers High Rollaz, not realizing the trunk of one car lifted contains the only copy of a master tape for the High Rollas latest album. The trio, led by Millions (Green), start to follow the Dawgs’s trail, only for things to get complicated when Ciara and one of the High Rollaz fall for each other.

Made in 2009, the production values here are shaky at best, with the video in particular not having aged well. You could likely record better quality footage on a medium-end phone these days, and the sound might well be improved, too. The story is woefully thin: there are scenes which either stay far beyond their purpose (unless that purpose was to showcase one of the rap songs on the soundtrack), or don’t appear to serve any purpose at all. The action, such as it is, is very poorly-executed: the Dawgs do very little actual crime after the opening sequence. Basically, rob the party and that’s it.

And, yet… On a couple of occasions, the film did surprise me. For instance, there’s one scene where South Central forces one of his minions to play Russian Roulette, and it’s genuinely disturbing. Núñez’s acting experience is apparent, and weirdly, his performance here reminded me of Jeffrey Dean Morgan’s portrayal of Negan in The Walking Dead (which, obviously, it well pre-dates). There’s the same sense he’s entirely unhinged, and could go off into insane violence at any moment. We also get the Most Unexpected Star Trek Reference of All-Time, when a drug dealer says of his product that it will, “Get you high, like Captain Kirk… The young Kirk, the one getting all the alien pussy.” I laughed, anyway.

I’m certainly not the intended audience here, yet I can’t imagine even its target would be able to look past the shoddier aspects, despite what feels like a certain veneer of urban authenticity to the dialogue and characters. It plods on, entirely as you’d expect, to the final face-off, when the High Rollaz try to execute a deal with South Central and his crew, for the return of their tape. I sense the actresses here were chosen more for their visual appeal – it seems most of them were models – rather than their acting ability. Though since they get precious little to do here, it’s very difficult to tell whether or not they have any talent. They do nail the “looking pretty” thing, close to impeccably.

Dir: Chris Rogers
Star: Sherina Manning, Azur-De Johnson, Will Green, Miguel A. Núñez Jr.

Skirt Day

  By

★★★½
“Those kids became my enemies.”

skirrtdayGuaranteed to put anyone off education as a career, this stars Gallic sex-kitten from the 80’s, Isabelle Adjani, now all middle-aged and playing French literature teacher Sonia Bergerac. whose career has devolved into hell – hence the line atop this review. She’s teaching a teenage class who, virtually without exception, clearly don’t want to be there, when she finds a gun in one of their bags. A struggle erupts, and when the dust settles, Sonia has the gun, a student is lying on the floor with a bullet-wound, and a siege situation has begun. On the outside, police negotiator Labouret (Podalydès) is having a bad day himself, trying to avoid a blood-bath, while his political masters try to spin news of the unexpected hostage crisis. But inside the theater, Sonia finds that it’s not just political power that grows from the barrel of a gun: she hasn’t ever had pupils pay such impeccable attention to her lessons before…

Made in 2009, this has, if anything become even more topical in the light of the refugee crisis which has become a hot-button issue in Europe of late. For this pulls few punches in its criticism of those who adopt politically-correct policies, simply to avoid trouble with minorities. The title refers to one of Sonia’s unusual demands, a day that women can wear skirts without the risk of harassment by political or religious conservatives, and writer-director Lilienfeld is also scathing in his criticism of immigrants who don’t integrate into their new homeland (a later reveal indicates it’s the latter aspect which is most important), as well as, it appears, yelling at local kids to get off his damn lawn. It is almost certainly the case that aspects of this will make more sense to a local audience; viewers outside France have to work backwards from what’s presented, to read Lilienfeld’s view of French society, rather than the other way around. However, he is also careful not to paint the pupils with a single brush: some are every bit as aggrieved with the status quo of appeasement as Sonia – and, arguably, with greater justification.

It’s not a film without its problems. The exterior scenes don’t have anything like the same impact, and the end feels almost like the director ran out of things to say, and opted for the simplest way to tie up all the loose ends, regardless of how abrupt it might seem. But it’s still genuinely thought-provoking – not something we find often in our genre here – and even if you don’t necessarily agree with everything Lilienfeld has to say, he deserves respect for saying it in a reasonable way. Adjani, who largely came out of retirement to make this, does a great job: the scenario sounds kinda silly, yet largely through her portrayal of a woman at the absolute end of her rope, it becomes plausible enough to work. Hard to imagine anything like this coming out of Hollywood, that’s for sure.

Dir: Jean-Paul Lilienfeld
Star: Isabelle Adjani, Denis Podalydès, Yann Ebonge, Sonia Amori
a.k.a. La Journée de la jupe