Tag: USA

The Bluff

  By

★★★
“Back from Davy Jones’s locker.”

Are women pirates in vogue again? It’s safe to say that the startling failure of Cutthroat Island holed that subgenre of action heroine movies below the water. That was over thirty years ago now, and this may well be the first time Hollywood has returned to it since. [I found an indie film about Irish pirate Grainne Uaile which wrapped shooting in February 2014, and still hasn’t received a release] Though even here, there isn’t much high seas action here. Outside of the opening scene, where Captain Connor (Urban) boards a ship run by Captain Bodden (Córdova) and finds gold stamped with Connor’s hallmark, this takes place almost entirely on land, specifically the island of Cayman Brac.

Connor heads there, that being where Bodden’s ship came from, in search of the rest of the gold. This was taken from him years previously by then piratical associate Bloody Mary (Chopra Jonas) , who stabbed Connor in the chest and left him for dead. She is now Mrs. Ercell Bodden, having abandoned the nautical life, and started a family. The arrival of her ex-lover upends her domestic bliss, and forces her back into the violent way of life. It’s all kinda like The Long Kiss Goodnight, without the amnesia thing. She has to protect her crippled son Isaac and rather flighty sister-in-law Lizzie (Oakley-Green), while figuring out how to rescue her husband from Connor’s clutches.

The two leads are probably the best things about thus. Chopra Jonas has been ramping up her action chops since her co-starring role in Citadel – also an Amazon product – and does a good job throughout. Urban makes for a great villain, despite being solidly into his mid-fifties. He still commands a fine screen presence, almost thirty years after playing Julius Caesar on Xena. However, the other elements aren’t quite as impressive – or, at least, not consistently so. Flowers doesn’t have a lot of directorial experience, especially in the action genre, and sometimes that shows. There are some good sequences, such as where Ercell fends off buccaneers in her own home. But others, such as a battle in a cave complex, come over as dark and muddled.

The same lack of consistency hampers the rest of the film. For every cool moment – such as the discovery that there are caimans on Cayman Brac – there are elements that don’t work, like Ercell’s relationship with Lizzie. Another issue is that since the days of Cutthroat Island, the genre has been redefined by the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise. Any pirate movie will inevitably be compared to it, and any hero(ine) to Jack Sparrow. It’s an awkward situation, and it feels as if The Bluff is torn between pandering to this, and being its own thing. Whatever Cutthroat‘s issues – and they were numerous – that wasn’t one. But if this can prove the viability of female pirates again, it’ll have been worth the effort. 

Dir: Frank E. Flowers
Star: Priyanka Chopra Jonas, Karl Urban, Safia Oakley-Green, Ismael Cruz Córdova

Overkill: The Aileen Wuornos Story

  By

★★
“Undercooked and overdressed.”

Less than eleven months after Wuornos was convicted on her first murder charge, this TV movie was broadcast on CBS. If you’re at all familiar with the facts of the case, this won’t have much to offer. It does go a little bit deeper into the police procedural, in the shape of Capt. Steve Binegar (Grimm) and investigator Bruce Munster (James). Interesting that it does depict the FBI’s indifference to the case, the investigation basically being left up to the local cops. This gives credence to an article I read, which quoted an unnamed profiler with the bureau as saying there was no such things as a female serial killer. However, said local law enforcement comes up largely smelling of roses.

I’ve a feeling this may be because some members of the police were actively involved in the production, a fact which caused them some trouble due to the conflict of interest. There were, according to The Selling of a Serial Killer, re-assignments as a result, though nothing more formal appears to have happened. This may also have been based on the story Wuornos’s girlfriend Tyria Moore sold, though I’ve not been able to confirm this. The main problem is simply that a TV movie is a profoundly inappropriate medium in which to tell the story of a serial killer prostitute. Particularly one who was a lesbian, though you would be hard-pushed to work that out here. Aileen/”Lee (Smart) and Tyria (Overall) seem much more like room-mates than lovers.

The limitations of the form mean that we don’t really get to see much of… anything, to be honest. The formative influence of Wuornos’s appalling childhood is only seen in a couple of murky flashbacks. The killings themselves come nowhere near the description of them by the authorities as brutal. The closest we get to the grubbiness required for an authentic portrayal is probably the chaste shower scene in which Aileen examines her wounds, behind which we get entirely inappropriate sexy sax music. Though let’s face it: as the picture above proves, Smart and Overall are both far too conventionally pretty, despite being somewhat uglified up. I did laugh at how even the witness sketch impressions of the pair were prettier than the ones actually used by the police. 

As long as you’re fine with an obviously watered-down idea of the story, this isn’t terrible. The actors generally do a good job: I’m not familiar with Smart, but there are points when she is able to capture the body language and mannerisms of the real Wuornos effectively, and her performance does balance between making Aileen sympathetic and demonizing her. I also liked James, an actor I know more from villainous roles such as his replicant in Blade Runner. Seeing him here as a smart detective certainly felt against type. But the whole endeavour feels like a jar of “hot” supermarket salsa. You expect to get something spicy, only to find it has relentlessly toned down for mass-market consumption. 

Dir: Peter Levin
Star: Jean Smart, Park Overall, Tim Grimm, Brion James

Aileen: Queen of the Serial Killers

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I am quietly co-opting the title of the recent Netflix documentary, for a more general piece on the topic of Aileen Wuornos – arguably the first, and certainly the most infamous, female serial killers. Firstly, I do have some qualms about including her here. After all, she’s certainly not what you’d call an “action heroine”. But a girl with a gun? Definitely. Representing the dark side of that trope, absolutely. But that doesn’t, and shouldn’t, mean people like her shouldn’t be covered here. Especially when, as with Wuornos, they have inspired any number of cinematic works, ranging from the straight-laced documentary to the luridly sensational. Both directions have their own merits.

With that out of the way: was Wuornos, as is often claimed, “the first female serial killer”? That’s largely a matter of definition. There were certainly earlier women who killed indiscriminately, some in much greater numbers than Wuornos’s seven confirmed victims. The most famous would be Countess Elizabeth Báthory – herself the inspiration for many movies – who was accused of killing as many as 600 in 17th-century Hungary. But, in general, multiple murderers seem to have had different motivations depending on gender. Women are more likely to kill for profit; men for sexual gratification.

History precedes her

Indeed, the modern era killer with the highest possible number of victims is a woman – probably one you’ve never heard of. Mariam Soulakiotis, known as ‘Mother Rasputin’, was the abbess of a Greek monastery. She would typically lure wealthy women to the convent, torture them until they donated their fortunes, then kill the “donor”. She also had a scam involving a cure for TB, which inflated her numbers dramatically, albeit through negligent homicide. During her trial, figures of 27 murders and 150 negligent homicides were given, though some suggest the true total for which she bore responsibility was over five hundred. That figure would surpass the tally even of the likes of Pedro Lopez, the “Monster of the Andes”, often regarded as the most prolific serial killer. 

Here are a selection of other women, generally regarded as having killed considerably more than Wuornos’s seven victims – and mostly had cool nicknames bestowed upon them in the media. I’ve not included medical personnel like Jane Toppan, because that would be a whole other list.

  • 35 victims: Vera Renczi, Romania, “the Black Widow” – poisoned two husbands, multiple lovers, and her son with arsenic during the 1920s. But her existence is unconfirmed, and she may be an urban legend. 
  • 17 victims: Irina Gaidamachuk, Russia, “Satan in a Skirt” – pretended to be a social worker to gain access to the homes of elderly women, kill them with an axe or hammer, then rob them (pictured, right).
  • 16 victims: Juana Barraza, Mexico, “La Mataviejitas (the little old lady killer)” – A former pro wrestler known as “The Silent Lady”; like Gaidamachuk, she targetted old women, bludgeoning or strangling them during robberies.
  • 14 victims: Belle Guinness, USA – enticed men to visit her rural property through personal ads. Her crimes were only discovered after her supposed death in a fire, though her fate is unconfirmed.
  • 14 victims, Sararat Rangsiwuthaporn, Thailand, “Am Cyanide” – Borrowed money to feed an online gambling addiction, then poisoned those to whom she was in debt. 
  • 13 victims, Tamara Samsonova, Russia, “the Granny Ripper” – Started killing at age 56. Murdered, dismembered, and in some accounts cannibalized, people in her flat.
  • 12 victims, Enriqueta Martí, Spain, “the Vampire of Barcelona” – Self-proclaimed witch that abducted, prostituted, murdered and made potions with the bodies of small children. That’s enough Wikipedia for me. 
  • 11 victims, Nannie Doss, USA, “the Giggling Granny” – Confessed to killing four of her husbands, her mother, her sister, her grandson, and her mother-in-law by arsenic poisoning.
  • 11 victims, Marie Alexandrine Becker, Belgium, “the Belgian Borgia” – Poisoned wealthy clients in order to supplement her income while working as a seamstress.
  • 10 victims, Jeanne Weber, France – Strangled ten children, mostly while babysitting them, though also including her own. In the most unsurprising verdict ever, found not guilty by reason of insanity. 

Damaged people damage people

If you ever want proof of the above, Aileen Wuornos’s early life would be it. She came from a broken home, her mother filing for divorce from her father shortly before giving birth to her daughter at the age of sixteen. When Aileen was three, her mother abandoned her, and she was taken care of by her grandparents. Who were both alcoholics. Aileen accused her grandfather of molesting her, and by the age of 11, she was sexually active, exchanging her favors for cigarettes and drugs. She became pregnant at 14, and was thrown out her grandparent’s house shortly after giving birth, living rough in woods and turning tricks to survive. 

Her life from there through the late eighties, was an all-you-can-eat buffet of more or less petty crime (theft, check forgery, robbery) and suicide attempts. There was also a bizarre marriage at age 20 to the 69-year-old president of a Florida yacht club. This proved short-lived – likely mercifully for everyone – being annulled after nine weeks. In 1986, she met motel maid Tyria Moore in Daytona Beach, and the pair moved in together. But in November 1989, Wuornos killed her first victim, 51-year-old store owner Richard Mallory. She later claimed this was in self-defense, after Mallory attacked her. There may have been some truth in this, because he had been convicted of attempted rape, albeit back in 1957. 

However, it’s stretching credulity to accept this also applied to all of the six other men she shot dead, between May and November the following year. Naturally, such a spree did not go unseen, with an increasing media frenzy, especially after a witness reported it was two women she had seen abandoning a victim’s car. Fingerprint evidence – obviously, her dabs were on file in Florida due to her criminal record – helped the net tighten on Wuornos. After the arrest Moore, who had fled to her family home in Pennsylvania, agreed to turn state’s evidence against her lover, in exchange for immunity from prosecution. 

In January 1992, she went on trial for the murder of Mallory. After a two-week trial, she was found guilty and sentenced to death. Wuornos subsequently pleaded “no contest” (effectively guilty) or guilty to five other murders, with one left uncharged because the body was never found. She also received the death sentence for those killings. Her attitude and explanation changed dramatically over the years. At some points she stoically maintained the self-defense claim. But at other times, she admitted her guilt, saying in court, “I am as guilty as can be. I want the world to know I killed these men, as cold as ice. I’ve hated humans for a long time. I am a serial killer. I killed them in cold blood, real nasty.”

The wheels of justice ground slowly, as they tend to do in these cases. It was more than a decade after receiving her first death sentence, that Aileen Wuornos was executed, in October 2002. It had taken so long, the state of Florida had switch from the electric chair to lethal injection as the preferred cause of death. Anyone hoping for closure from her final words would likely have been more confused than anything: “Yes, I would just like to say I’m sailing with the rock, and I’ll be back, like Independence Day, with Jesus. June 6, like the movie. Big mother ship and all, I’ll be back, I’ll be back.” To date she has not, in fact, come back. 

However, approaching a quarter century since her execution, the ghost of Wuornos still haunts society in a variety of ways, remaining a topic of dark fascination. There have been books, there have been TV investigations, and even an operatic adaptation of her life. There have, naturally, been movies, at all levels. The best-known is 2003’s Monster, which won Charlize Theron an Academy Award for her depiction of the killer. But we also have seen the more lurid Aileen Wuornos: American Boogeywoman. Below, we’ll cover the first fictional retelling of Aileen’s story; a documentary which came out not long after her death; and as evidence of the ongoing interest in Wuornos, a Netflix film about her, released just last October. 

Overkill: The Aileen Wuornos Story

★★
“Undercooked and overdressed.”

Less than eleven months after Wuornos was convicted on her first murder charge, this TV movie was broadcast on CBS. If you’re at all familiar with the facts of the case, this won’t have much to offer. It does go a little bit deeper into the police procedural, in the shape of Capt. Steve Binegar (Grimm) and investigator Bruce Munster (James). Interesting that it does depict the FBI’s indifference to the case, the investigation basically being left up to the local cops. This gives credence to an article I read, which quoted an unnamed profiler with the bureau as saying there was no such things as a female serial killer. However, said local law enforcement comes up largely smelling of roses.

I’ve a feeling this may be because some members of the police were actively involved in the production, a fact which caused them some trouble due to the conflict of interest. There were, according to The Selling of a Serial Killer, re-assignments as a result, though nothing more formal appears to have happened. This may also have been based on the story Wuornos’s girlfriend Tyria Moore sold, though I’ve not been able to confirm this. The main problem is simply that a TV movie is a profoundly inappropriate medium in which to tell the story of a serial killer prostitute. Particularly one who was a lesbian, though you would be hard-pushed to work that out here. Aileen/”Lee (Smart) and Tyria (Overall) seem much more like room-mates than lovers.

The limitations of the form mean that we don’t really get to see much of… anything, to be honest. The formative influence of Wuornos’s appalling childhood is only seen in a couple of murky flashbacks. The killings themselves come nowhere near the description of them by the authorities as brutal. The closest we get to the grubbiness required for an authentic portrayal is probably the chaste shower scene in which Aileen examines her wounds, behind which we get entirely inappropriate sexy sax music. Though let’s face it: as the picture above proves, Smart and Overall are both far too conventionally pretty, despite being somewhat uglified up. I did laugh at how even the witness sketch impressions of the pair were prettier than the ones actually used by the police. 

As long as you’re fine with an obviously watered-down idea of the story, this isn’t terrible. The actors generally do a good job: I’m not familiar with Smart, but there are points when she is able to capture the body language and mannerisms of the real Wuornos effectively, and her performance does balance between making Aileen sympathetic and demonizing her. I also liked James, an actor I know more from villainous roles such as his replicant in Blade Runner. Seeing him here as a smart detective certainly felt against type. But the whole endeavour feels like a jar of “hot” supermarket salsa. You expect to get something spicy, only to find it has relentlessly toned down for mass-market consumption. 

Dir: Peter Levin
Star: Jean Smart, Park Overall, Tim Grimm, Brion James

Aileen: Life and Death of a Serial Killer

★★★★
“Lethally blonde.”

This is Broomfield’s second documentary around the topic of Aileen Wuornos, having previously made Aileen Wuornos: The Selling of a Serial Killer. It’s a glorious doc – one of my all-time favorites – but is more tangential, being about those around Wuornos, seeking to exploit her situation for their own personal gain. He thought he was done with the topic, but he was called as a defense witness during Aileen’s final appeal against the multiple death sentences, largely because among those exploiters was her lawyer at the time, Steve Glazer. But around appearing in the witness box, Broomfield decided to make a second documentary, this time focusing on the woman at the centre of proceedings, all the way up to her execution by lethal injection in October 2002.

What I love about Broomfield’s work is, he goes where the story leads him. Some documentarians – and I’m looking at you, Michael Moore – go into production with An Agenda (caps used advisedly). They then craft the end product towards that agenda. To me, that’s less a documentary than propaganda. Broomfield seems to have a much more open mind, and the results sometimes end up going in unexpected directions. Here, it’s clear that he has sympathy for Wuornos, but doesn’t pull any punches about her personality and mental state. He presents footage both of her claiming self-defense and absolutely confessing to having committed cold-blooded murder. The scary thing is, Wuornos appeared to me to be highly credible in each, contradictory situation. Maybe I’m just easily fooled. Sobering.

Certainly, there is evidence of Aileen’s anger issues. During his final interview, we see how she can go from calm discussion to volcanic ferocity in short order, for little or no reason, and storming out while flipping Broomfield the bird. If there had been a firearm to hand during this outburst… Yeah, watching this, the idea of her killing seven in less than a year definitely seemed possible. Rage and easy access to guns is a dangerous combination. But as the film proceeds, it appears Wuornos’s mental situation deteriorates into frequent surges of paranoia, claiming mind-control weapons are being used on her, and that the cops knew who she was after the first murder, and let her continue killing so they could exploit things in the media. 

Should someone so clearly ill in the head be executed? Political considerations – it being an election year, with the governor wanting to appear strong on crime – appear to have overridden any judicial concerns. A cursory mental exam pronounced her fit to die, and the sentence was duly carried out. On that day, Broomfield was interviewed by the media (a classic case of the snake eating its own tail). He said, “Here was somebody who is has obviously lost her mind, has totally lost touch with reality. We’re executing a person who’s mad, and I don’t really know what kind of message that gives.” As someone not averse to the death penalty, this documentary certainly made me pause for thought, and that alone proves its quality. 

Dir: Nick Broomfield and Joan Churchill

Aileen: Queen of the Serial Killers

★★
“More of a propamentary.”

This would likely have benefited had I not watched Life and Death the previous night, because any comparison does not work in this documentary’s favour. Titled on the print just Aileen, forgetting that awkward serial killing thing, this is less balanced, and skews heavily towards Wuornos as victim – of the legal system, her clients and life in general. “Actually, she was made, and that’s chilling,” said co-director Turner, apparently opting to ignore the concept of free will. The bias is apparent, in the way the film concentrates heavily on Wuornos’s first murder, that of Richard Mallory. While that is the only one where there was a full trial, it’s also the only one where I think there’s credible evidence to support her claim of self-defense. The film barely mentions the other six victims.

I won’t argue that prosecutors did everything they could to obtain a conviction. That would be… their job? The footage of a reporter quizzing lead prosecutor John Tanner about Mallory’s sexual assault conviction in the fifties, just made me wonder, how the heck Wuornos’s team didn’t pick up on this? Checking the background of the victim for something like that seems like Defense Lawyering 1.0.1. In general, though, Turner and Cunningham are largely re-treading the same ground as Nick Broomfield: indeed, some footage here appears to be repurposed from his films, or at least comes from the same sources. I was a little surprised how this largely glossed over Wuornos’s upbringing, which I’d have to consider a huge factor in her issues.

The new stuff is mostly from Australian film-maker Jasmine Hurst, who corresponded long-distance with Wuornos for year, and interviewed her in 1997. I felt she was the whole endeavour’s weakest aspect. Her adoration for the killer is wildly improper from that start, Hurst drooling over Wuornos: “She’s like the trifecta. Gay, female, sex worker. And killing white men.” Hey, it is the Netflix trifecta, anyway. Later on, Hurst delivers this doozy of a statement: “It didn’t matter to me at all if none of the men had raped her. Those men may not have raped her in the moment, but they are icons of previous rapists that she didn’t fight against.” That the makers saw fit to leave that comment in the movie, says a lot about their agenda.

For, make no mistake, an agenda is what we have here, and what differentiates it most sharply from Broomfield’s work. Turner and Cunningham aren’t seekers after truth. They are convinced they know it, and want to drag the viewer to agree. That’s why we get comments on Reddit about the film like, “I feel so dumb for falling for the Aileen is evil stuff. This doc changed my mind completely.” More than one thing can be true, y’know. Yes, she did not receive a fair trial. Yes, she had a rough life. But she was also evil, and an incredibly angry sociopath. Not that you’d know it from the footage here, almost all showing Wuornos at her most serene.

Dir: Emily Turner, Kirsty Cunningham

Women’s Prison

  By

★★★
“Innocence behind bars.”

It’s always interesting to watch these early entries in the women-in-prison genre, and see the elements which are still staples of the genre, close to seventy years later. Well, some of the elements anyway: this dates from 1955, so is obviously tamer than a kitten on Valium in terms of sexual content. No strip searches. No prison showers. And when it’s revealed that one of the inmates is pregnant, it’s almost as much of a surprise to the audience as it is to the authorities. But it’s still recognizable as an ancestor, thanks to things like the sympathetic prison doctor, new inmate who shouldn’t be there, and the sadistic warden who rules things with an iron fist.

It is an ensemble piece, whose focus shifts throughout. Initially, it seems likely to be the story of “fresh meat” Helene Jensen (Thaxter), who is doing time for vehicular manslaughter, and has a tough time adjusting to life inside. Then it shifts to Joan Burton (Totter), an accomplice to her robber husband, Glen, who is doing time in the men’s prison next door. He has something vital to tell her, and makes repeated attempts to sneak across the border to visit Joan. On the other side of the bars is the power struggle between the warden, Amelia van Zandt (Lupino) and jail physician Dr. Crane (Duff). Her methods are anathema to Crane, who flat-out calls van Zandt a psychopath. He may have a point.

Despite the lack of salacious elements, this is still entertaining fodder. There are a lot of amusing characters among the inmates, from cheerful fraudster Brenda Martin through to black inmate Polyclinic Jones – named after the hospital where she was born! She’s played by Juanita Jones, who’d be Oscar nominated a few years later. Interestingly, despite this being years before the Civil Rights era, the prison is not segregated: the black inmates have their own cell, but otherwise mix freely with the white prisoners. Race is never even mentioned here. There’s an impressively meta moment too, when two guards are discussing a cinema trip. “They never get things right in prison pictures,” muses one, and is told, “I know, but I like to pick out the flaws.”

This happens just before another familiar element: the prisoners riot and take over, after being pushed too far. In this case, it’s van Zandt’s brutal interrogation of Burton which proves the tipping point. Or at least, “brutal” by fifties standards; it’s not much more than a bit of light slapping around. The rebellion leads to tear-gassing and hostage taking, as the women seek to make van Zandt pay, plus Glen roaming around with a pistol. Really, the men’s side need to look into their security protocols, I reckon. For all its innocence in many ways, bordering on naivety, there are still moments which have an emotional impact; I found the death of one inmate surprisingly affecting. Released in Germany as Revolte im Frauenzuchthaus, which I only mention, as “frauenzuchthaus” may be my new favourite German word.

Dir: Lewis Seiler
Star: Ida Lupino, Howard Duff. Audrey Totter, Phyllis Thaxter

Billie the Kid

  By

★½
“Sadly, they’re not kid-ding.”

I’m inclined to look kindly on this, because I suspect it was a local production, filmed here in Arizona. While the end credits are silent on the topic, there are enough saguaro cacti about, to make it likely the faux Western town and other locations used, were somewhere near me. I recognize an actor or two as well. Unfortunately, it’s not exactly a film I would hold up as a shining example of quality Arizona cinema. While clearly set in the Old West, the movie is stuffed with anachronisms, from haircuts through a terrible British accent to glasses. It consequently never succeeds in establishing a convincing sense of period. This is a bit of a shame, since the Western horror action heroine isn’t one we see often. 

In this case, it’s vampires which provide the darker elements – though these can daywalk, probably because it’s harder to film at night. A small clan are seeking the location of Drakul, a senior bloodsucker who can grant a blessing to his chosen one. Emphasis on “one”, leading to dissent in the ranks. Meanwhile, the bodies they left behind causes local Sheriff Jack Barton (Prell) to assemble a posse. Included is Billie (Hsu), who was languishing in Barton’s jail, but is allowed out due to her tracking skills. There’s also a Van Helsing type, in the shape of black “British” guy – did I mention the accent? – James Underhill (Monroe), who seems to know a lot about them. One might say a suspicious amount.

A simple approach would have worked better here, pitting cowboys against vampires in a straightforward action adventure. But the film diverts too much time and energy into uninteresting areas. For example, it tries repeatedly to generate romantic tension between Billie and Jack. However, when this relies on lines like, “I’m plenty good – and I’m good at plenty”, it’s a struggle which is more uphill than the side of El Capitan. Similarly, one of the vampires (Conran) has taken up with a prospector (did I mention the haircut?), a thread which occupies running-time and little else. The same goes for Billie’s back story, involving sexual abuse and revenge. Couldn’t she just be a gunslinger without a tragic past?

Things grind to a particular halt in the middle, freeing me up to consider whether or not this was better than the infamous and similarly themed 1966 B-movie, Billy the Kid Versus Dracula. Given John Carradine called the latter the worst of the 343 feature films in which he appeared, the competition is tough. This probably isn’t quite as bad: Hsu does what she can with dialogue which is often spectacularly terrible. But much like its predecessor, this fails badly as a Western, and likely even more so as a horror film. I was left with a greater understanding of precisely why the two genres have largely gone their own way. Though the general ineptness in this production certainly doesn’t help.

Dir: Paul Tomborello
Star: Olivia Hsu, Frank Prell, Zion Monroe, Veronica Conran

A Breed Apart

  By

★★½
“Dogged by problems”

I’ve seen a lot of reviews slagging this off as irredeemably bad, and that’s fair comment. Its execution is often lazy to the point of incompetence, and the talents of the cast are largely wasted. And, yet… Was I not entertained? More than I expected, reading those reviews. Oh, sometimes in the wrong way, certainly. But it’s clear the makers were in on the joke. To a certain degree, as with the likes of Sharknado, that critic-proofs it, because it is intended to be stupid and implausible. When you have a dog running around for half the film with a wine-bottle on its muzzle, or canines which can climb trees and ropes… Yeah, it’s clear the creators aren’t letting reality get in the way. 

This is a spiritual sequel to 2006’s The Breed, in which Michelle Rodriguez and her friends land on an island populated by feral attack dogs. Society wasn’t holding its breath for a follow-up, yet here we are. In this version, a film about those events gets abandoned, and 13 years later, influencer Vince Vertura brings five colleagues to the island location to rescue the now thoroughly wild pups. This goes about as well as you would expect, and they quickly start getting turned into doggie chow. Siblings Violet (Curry) and Collins (Steiner), have to try and survive, with the kinda help of Vertura’s personal assistant, Thalia (Gardner), and the other, largely useless, Internet personalities. 

I was hoping for more, based off the poster, and the fact that this re-teams Currey and Gardner, who worked so well together in the awesome Fall. This is not awesome, though I did laugh at the exchange between them:
– What idiots climb up a cellphone tower?
– Someone with a death wish, that’s who.
clearly intended as a knowing reference to their previous film. Oh, and if you are expecting much Hayden Panettiere, given the artwork, you will be disappointed. She shows up at the beginning, then vanishes until the very end. Though she does end up going full Kristi Noem on the dogs, as they besiege the boat on which Violet and Thalia are holed up. [Yeah, I watched a certain South Park episode last night!]

There is some light bow-work from Violet, and it’s certainly a movie that will be appreciated more by cat people, if you know what I mean. You will have to be very tolerant of effects for the dog attacks, which rarely reach the level of anything remotely convincing. Say what you like about The Breed, at least they did use real animals. These are largely bad CGI, and I speak as someone who has seen far too many straight-to-video Chinese films, which set the bar for bad CGI. The Furst’s filmography is littered with movies titled such as Trailer Park Shark or Ghost Shark, and this is not dissimilar. Indeed, at one point a dog falls overboard right into the mouth of a shark. If you don’t find that greatly amusing, this may not be for you.

Dir: The Furst Brothers
Star: Grace Caroline Currey, Virginia Gardner, Riele Downs, Zak Steiner

 

They Call Her Death

  By

★★½
“At no point, does anyone call her death…”

It’s clear what Snell is going for here. This is a throwback to the spaghetti Westerns of the seventies, along with Italian exploitation films from around the same time. I certainly admire the effort which went into this: for example, rather than shooting digitally and applying effects to imitate film, Snell actually shot on Kodak 16mm stock. I did not know that was still a thing, to be honest. Some of the other elements, like the music, also do a good job of reproducing the era – the movie poster is another one. I’ve seen enough of this kind of movie (mostly through Project Kinski), to appreciate what he’s doing.

Unfortunately, I’ve seen enough of this kind of thing, to be able to differentiate the good from the bad, and a fair bit of this skews towards the latter. Molly Pray (Rippel) can only watch as her husband is gunned down in front of her by a bounty-hunter, having been framed for the murder of a lawyer, But she will not accept this, and begins to unravel the threads of the conspiracy, which made Mr. Pray an unwitting victim. And when I say, “unravel”, I mean with extreme, bloody prejudice. She guts some, blows the faces off others, on her way up to the chain to the person pulling the strings at the top. She’s holding a stick of dynamite. We’ll leave it at that. 

If you are looking for a comparison, it would be something along the lines of Hobo With a Shotgun. That’s a film I love dearly, and that might be partly why I’m a little sniffy about this. Because if you compare Hobo to Death, the results do not favour this, almost across the board. Most obviously, while Rippel is decent, she’s barely in the same solar system as Rutger Hauer. The lack of a strong antagonist here is a problem too. Instead, Molly largely chews up one person after another. But because we don’t know much about them – beyond their connection, sometimes tangential, to the death of her husband – there’s a severe lack of emotional impact, even as she’s dismembering them for her pigs to eat. 

Finally, the pacing leaves something to be desired, especially the sections where the focus drifts off Molly, such as to the friendly new deputy, who is generally on her side. Almost any time he was on the screen, I found myself quickly losing interest, and keen for it to go back to the directly focused line of Mully’s vengeance. The reliance on mostly practical effects is laudable, and there are certainly some impressively gory moments of which Lucio Fulci and his ilk would be proud. But too many of the supporting performances feel like they come from people who were available. Given the shoot took several years from start to finish, that may not be much of a stretch. 

Dir: Austin Snell
Star: Sheri Rippel, Jeff Boyer, Devan R. Garcia, Shawn Nyberg

Black Bags

  By

★★½
“Lost luggage.”

The first half of this is better than average, setting up an intriguing scenario that feels as if it might be going somewhere. Unfortunately, the second half manages to go almost nowhere, the hard edge honed to that point being severely blunted. We end in something which feels more appropriate for an “Aren’t All Men Bastards?” marathon on the Lifetime channel. It centres on Tess (Rulin), a pregnant woman returning to her new home in the countryside on the bus – her husband having forbidden her to drive. However, she ends up collecting the wrong suitcase, picking up an identical one belonging to another passenger. When she gets home and opens it, she finds a severed head. Worse, the case’s owner is now at her door.

This is Sara (Vandervoort), a black-gloved killer, who now wants – no, make that requires – Tess’s help to dispose of the evidence. Sara does have the courtesy to explain why she is carrying about a head. Eleven years ago, she’d had an affair with a married man, resulting in a daughter. The child now has leukemia, and she went to ask the father for help. It did not go well. But what’s also clear is that there is a good deal going on, to which we, the audience, are not privy. Tess’s husband seems sketchy from the little we have seen of him, and it gradually also becomes apparent that the switching of bags was no random accident, Tess being very specifically the target. 

It’s during the disposal things start going wrong for the movie. An abandoned factory, I can accept. One with an open vat of bubbling green stuff, perfect for dissolving heads? A little too convenient.  Then, let’s go get pie together! And tell the waitress we literally just got away with murder! It feels quite at odds with the smart person Sara had been – those gloves are there for a reason. The more we find out, the more it feels like the script is shooting itself in the foot, while simultaneously tying itself in knots. Which is quite an achievement, if you think about it. It also drops the twist we’ve been anticipating since the beginning, though your reaction may be more “Huh” then “Wow”.

In the end, the biggest problem may be trying to make Sara sympathetic. Once it’s been established that she flat-out decapitated someone, it’s always going to be a difficult road back, regardless of her motivation (and by throwing not just a child, but a sick one at us there, the script is guilty of trying too hard). It is both more plausible and entertaining when she’s behaving like Villanelle, than when Sara is trying to be the concerned parent. Unfortunately, it’s the latter which becomes heavily weighted as we reach the end, she and Tess eventually seeming to bond over motherhood. A particularly superfluous coda whacks another half-star off the rating, and solidifies the final score as below average. Bit of a shame.

Dir: Josh Brandon
Star: Laura Vandervoort, Olesya Rulin, Ryan Francis, Drew Pollock

Unit 234

  By

★★
“Lock out while you rock out.”

File this synopsis under technically true: “After the shocking discovery of an unconscious man in a locked unit, the lone employee of a remote storage facility must fight to survive the night against a ruthless gang, dead set on retrieving their precious cargo – at any cost.” I guess the word with which I have the most reason to quibble is probably “fight”. For heroine Laurie Saltair (Fugrman) is more from the Brave Sir Robin school of fighting, if you’ve ever seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail. She’s much more inclined to avoid confrontation than seek it out. Which perhaps making sense when facing a larger, better armed and more experienced enemy. But where’s the fun in that?

The man in question is Clayton (Huston), who is on a gurney having been kidnapped from hospital by Jules (Johnson), who is keen to finish the job. What job is that? Well, you find this out towards the end, when Laurie does, and it certainly upends much of what has gone before, to the point you’d be forgiven for annoyance at the film having perhaps wasted your time. What unfolds is, Laurie rescuing Clayton, and they then have to try and escape the storage facility and/or call for help, while Jules and his men hunt them both. Naturally, neither prove exactly successful, and that’s hos the plot unfolds. Mostly through the maze of passages in the facility, with a brief excursion outside for fresh air. 

There’s potential here: imagine a film where the heroine can crack open storage units and use the contents against the villains. This kinda happens here – only in about the dumbest and most implausible way you could imagine. Seriously: of all the things potentially to utilize, this was the way Laurie went? I think it was probably the moment at which the film jumped the shark for me, and it was never able to… I guess, un-jump itself thereafter. I feel a vague sense of loss at this, since the central performance are fine. Fuhrman is an engaging heroine, and Johnson is effective in his role. Weirdly, after non-GWG film Day of Reckoning, it’s the second this week where an ambivalent character coughs up blood. Go figure. 

It also felt like Laurie only became pro-active at the end of the movie, when it was necessary for the plot. When it happened, part of me was relieved it had finally happened – it probably just pushed the film over the line for inclusion on this site. However, there was another part of me that wondered where the hell this had come from, because it simply didn’t fit in with Laurie’s passive approach to that point. I may have been somewhat prejudiced by Fuhrman’s track record in Orphan: First Kill, where she’s more aggressive. This definitely needed a heroine along similar lines, although it’s the script, and its inability to unlock the potential, which feels the biggest weakness. 

Dir: Andy Tennant
Star: Isabelle Fuhrman, Don Johnson, Jack Huston, James DuMont

The Beta Project

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★
“Beta, in the other sense of the word.”

I usually strive to find something nice to say about most low-budget action heroine films. Maybe the soundtrack is cool. Or there’s one performance which stands out. But for this one, I’m really struggling. The good here more or less begins and ends with the synopsis, which is also why it’s here: “Four women are recruited into an organization that hunts the supernatural.” Mauser does appear to be on board with our field, and we’ve covered a couple of his films before, most recently the fairly decent Lady Lawman. While flawed, you could overlook the shortcomings if you squinted somewhat. This, however, is a clear step back, and was a real struggle to get through. 

In the scenario that unfolds here, there is indeed an unnamed organization, run by Rose (Nash). The supernatural in question is… Well, it’s basically vampires, and in particular the legendary Lilith (co-director Berkshire). She is supposed to have died centuries ago, but the group discover this is not the case. The decision is made to recruit four women to take on Lilith (who is not the hairy dude shown on the poster). Why does it have to be women, you may be asking. Good question. Pity it’s one the film is completely uninterested in answering. Not that it matters, because the group never really ends up getting recruited either. Instead, there’s just smuggler AJ (Rodriguez), who gets paired with the organization’s accountant (!) and… Well, not very much, either. They go rescue one of AJ’s pals. That’s just about it.

What we have here feels like it could, and should, have been taken care of inside the first ten minutes, instead of playing out at feature length, like a pilot movie for a TV series that nobody wants to watch. It’s full of interminable scenes which deserve to have died a death on the cutting-room floor, like the introduction of AJ and pals, sitting around a restaurant. Or the training scene where AJ and accountant get whacked with sticks a couple of times. The latter is actually pointed out by the characters as useless, in a way that I can only presume was intended to be funny. Guess what? It isn’t, in the slightest. 

This is in part because there’s no real difference between the stick-whacking and the “genuine” action scenes, which are utterly limp and unconvincing. When killed, the vampires “explode” in a shower of sparks, in a way done considerably better by the Buffy TV show, approaching thirty years ago. The performances are generally unconvincing too: Berkshire comes out okay, which may explain why she ends up also playing another recruit, Joy, in addition to the villainess. I kept expecting them to be sisters or something, but… Nope. Like so much else here, it was thoroughly pointless. All the goodwill Mauser picked up for the “can do” attitude of his previous films has been wasted; he’s now on my “approach with caution” list. 

Dir: Brett William Mauser and Dane Berkshire
Star: Cristina Cruz Rodríguez, Dane Berkshire, Katrina Nash, Brett Mauser