Tag: USA

The Follower

  By

★★½
“Misery loves company”

Country singer Chelsea Angel (Christensen) announces to her fanbase that’s she taking a time-out from touring and recording – not least because of her recently-discovered pregnancy. Her flight home crashes in the middle of nowhere, and she wakes up to find herself chained up in a remote cabin, along with another survivor, Evelyn (James). Except, it soon turns out that Evelyn isn’t the innocent air hostess she initially appears. She’s Chelsea’s most obsessive and dedicated fan, who was actually responsible for the plane going down. And now, she has the object of her affection – not to mention, her unborn baby – all to herself, for some quality time, in which she can address Chelsea’s new style, with which Evelyn is not happy. Meanwhile, the singer’s boyfriend, Dillon (Lauren), and the guy in charge of her fan-club, Frank (Kirkpatrick), are trying to figure out where Chelsea has gone, following the online trail Evelyn left behind.

The straight two-handed stuff between Evelyn and Chelsea is not bad. It’s especially effective during the early going as the dynamic between the pair shifts, and Chelsea gradually realizes her plight. The tipping moment is likely when Evelyn starts burbling about how they both had chips in their head, but she had hers removed. It’s at that point, I think, we realized we were deep into Annie Wilkes territory, and that Stephen King adaptation looms over this the rest of the way. Christensen isn’t exactly James Caan, and James isn’t Kathy Bates either, yet they’re competent enough to keep this interesting. Chelsea’s pregnancy adds a twist, and if this wasn’t a TV movie, I’d have been wondering if Evelyn was going to go all Beatrice Dalle on Chelsea’s stomach.

The stuff outside the cabin is much less effective, ranging from the simply dull to wildly implausible. For instance, Chelsea is such a big star she can “sell out stadiums” – though the audience for her concert which opens it, is in the several dozens. But we’re we’re expected to believe that she is the only person with the website password which will allow access to Evelyn’s purchase history there, and thus, her address. Yeah: I’m sure Taylor Swift packs and ships her own T-shirts too.

Even when the necessary information is obtained – and you’ll be yelling the password at the screen long before Dillon figures it out – they don’t bother to notify the authorities. Instead, Frank wanders off to investigate on his own, with entirely predictable (and not undeserved) results. Anybody who thinks men are the smarter sex, needs to watch this. Everyone else? We can probably take or leave this at will. The thought strikes me that it could possibly be adapted into an interesting stage-play, for some fringe theatre company, just using two actresses. This might end up delivering the psychological intensity necessary, only present here in intermittent and sporadic bursts – and largely overshadowed by the idiocy of the supporting characters.

Dir: Damián Romay
Star: Erika Christensen, Bethany Lauren James, Val Lauren, Jason Kirkpatrick

Proud Mary

  By

★★★
“Leonetta: The Professional”

Despite the distinctly retro feel of the poster, intro and much of the music, this is very much a contemporary affair. Mary (Henson) is an enforcer working for Benny (Glover): at one point, she was in a relationship with his son, Tom (Brown), and he still wants to continue it. During one hit on a debtor, she finds the target’s young son, Danny (Winston), obliviously playing video-games in his bedroom. Struck by guilt, she leaves him alone, and keeps an eye on the kid thereafter. A year later, she rescues him from the abusive drug dealer who has “adopted” Danny, but the resulting bloodbath is a big problem. For the dealer in question worked for Benny’s biggest rival, who is not happy about the removal and demands Benny find the culprit. Mary, who was already fed up and wanting out of her career, has to decide exactly where her loyalties lie.

As the tag-line on top suggests, I was getting very strong hints of a gender-reversed Leon: a female hitman taking a young boy under his wing, and protecting her from the evil forces which threaten to engulf them. There are, admittedly, a number of differences: Mary is not the simple creature who was Leon, and her relationship with Danny is basically maternal, rather than the slightly creepy yet endearing one between Leon and Matilda. Though the main change is one the film almost seems to underplay, when it could (should?) have been the dramatic focus: Mary killed Danny’s father. The major conflict which I expected should ensue from this, never quite materializes.

The film as a whole is a great reminder of how guns work as a “force multiplier”, allowing a skilled woman to face and defeat opponents who are clearly physically stronger than her. That said, the action is merely okay – albeit, given Najafi was responsible for the awful London Has Fallen, “okay” counts as a significant improvement. We were distracted by the frequent, blatant product placement for the remarkably bullet-resistant Maserati, in which Mary whizzed round town [we really needed a scene of someone trying to jack her car, and getting his mistake forcibly explained to him]. While it takes place in Boston, there’s not enough sense of place to make it matter: it could be any grimy inner-city. 

Henson – whom, I assume, uses her middle initial to distinguish her from all the other Taraji Hensons – is solid enough as the heroine, carrying its emotional weight effortlessly, and she keeps this worth watching, despite the flaws. Though this often feels like it’s trying to be weightier than it deserves, almost as if trying to live up to her Oscar-nominated standards. Yet at its heart, this is a formulaic “assassin with a heart of gold” feature, and there just isn’t enough beyond the obvious going on, plotwise, to separate it from its predecessors. Might have been better to embrace its clear B-movie roots, and roll with that aesthetic, rather than abandoning it after about ten minutes.

Dir: Babak Najafi
Star: Taraji P. Henson, Jahi Di’Allo Winston, Billy Brown, Danny Glover

Kidnap

  By

★★
“Car troubled.”

Oh, how the mighty have fallen. And considering Halle Berry’s last appearance on this site was for Catwoman, that’s saying something. This is so dumb, I genuinely felt I could feel my IQ slowly sliding away as I watched the movie. Even now, simply remembering it has me feeling more stupider by the sentence. If this review ends up sounding like Beavis & Butthead by the end, that will be why. Its plot is beyond simplistic. Karla Dixon (Berry) has her child abducted from a New Orleans park while she’s on the phone, by husband and wife kidnappers Margo (McGinn) and Terry (Temple). Losing her cell in the process, she takes off after them in hot pursuit, and nothing will get in her way for the next 80-odd minutes.

Which is 75 minutes longer than it would have lasted, had anyone behaved smartly. The six-year-old kid is likely the smartest person in the whole movie, and he spends most of it whimpering in the back of a car. Fortunately for him, the only thing dumber than the box of rocks which is his mother, are the two boxes of rocks which are Margo and Terry. Or possibly the entire pallet of rocks scriptwriter Knate Lee must have in his head, for thinking this procession of poor decisions and eye-rolling developments could possibly pass muster. At least, with any audience not consisting of fellow six-year-olds.

These begin with the cloying opening montage of baby pictures, proceed through a lengthy sequence of Karla at her day job – yes, you get to watch nothing except a harried waitress serving customers – and finish with the phone-call informing her of an upcoming custody battle with her ex-husband. The movie has just wasted its first 15 minutes on entirely inconsequential irrelevancies, since none of the preceding have the slightest significance during the rest of the film. Then there’s the chase itself, which relies far too much on happenstance, with Karla repeatedly losing contact with the kidnappers, only fortuitously to bump into them again: I guess Louisiana must be about the size of Hyde Park. It’s full of other ludicrous moments, like Karla trying to run Terry over, only to stop for no apparent reason, or her trading down from a shotgun to a knife.

The sole saving grace is Berry, and it’s a significant one, since she is on-screen in virtually every shot. She puts over a raw passion and drive which goes some way – albeit, not far enough – toward salvaging the woeful material. You can see how she was an Oscar-winning actress, even when spitting out cringe-inducing, sub-Taken lines such as, “Let me tell you something, as long as my son is in that car, I will not stop. Wherever you go I will be right behind you.” You do get the sense Karla is an utterly irresistible force of nature, prepared to do absolutely whatever is necessary, including wrestling with Margo while the car careers through a (suspiciously-empty) tunnel. Enjoy and appreciate this intensity: forget absolutely everything else.

Dir: Luis Prieto
Star: Halle Berry, Chris McGinn, Lew Temple, Sage Correa

Annihilation

  By

★★★½
“Some-thing in the way she moves…”

12 months after apparently vanishing while on a covert mission, the husband of former soldier Lena (Portman) suddenly shows up, unable to remember what happened, and suffering massive organ failure. The couple are quarantined by the government, and Lena learns of “Area X” in Florida. An apparent meteor strike has led to a “shimmer” which is gradually expanding in size: all expeditions into the area have vanished without trace, until Lena’s husband showed up. Lena joins another such expedition, led by Dr. Ventress (Leigh), hoping to reach the lighthouse which marks the apparent focus of the event, and discover something which can help her husband.

It’s probably best if I say not much more about the plot, though this will make the movie a bit difficult to review. Let’s just say, it soon becomes clear that the world inside the shimmer is radically different, and any creatures present there are also… changed. The overall feel is a bit like a female-led version of John Carpenter’s The Thing, where you were never sure what nightmarish creature lay around the next corner. Here, it begins with a mutated giant crocodile, which has developed multiple rows of teeth more in common with a shark… and only gets worse from there. One in particular is the stuff of nightmares, and is so dreadfully creepy, I wish we’d seen more of it or its associates.

The characters who make up the all-woman crew of the mission are a little generic. They are each given somewhat trite motivations for their agreement to join what is, to all intents and purposes, a suicide mission. But the actresses concerned take what they’re given and flesh out their roles well: it’s particularly great to see Leigh, who was one of my favourite actresses in the late eighties, before largely vanishing from features until The Hateful Eight. Meanwhile, Lena’s background in the military helps her take charge, and deal with situations which, to be honest, would likely have me running and screaming. It’s another in Portman’s portfolio of strong women, going all the way back to Leon.

If there’s a real flaw, it’s likely the ending, which appears to dip towards trippy psychedelic territory, closer to 2001. While The Thing was intended to do nothing more complex than scare the crap out of the viewer, and was all the better for a relentless focus on this goal, Garland appears to be trying to say something Very Deep about… something. I’m still not quite sure what. One interesting angle to consider though, is that it’s all being told by Lena in flashback – and she has shown herself quite capable of being economical with the truth. So, is what she recounts, actually what happened?

Based on the first book in a trilogy, by all accounts this diverges fairly radically from the novel. It does appear the studio were unsure of how to handle the rather unusual work which resulted, and the film went straight to Netflix almost everywhere bar America. This is perhaps an indication of its chilly, somewhat spiky nature, and what you have here a film more to admire than like.

Dir: Alex Garland
Star: Natalie Portman, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Gina Rodriguez, Tessa Thompson

Tomb Invader

  By

★½
“Deserves to be buried.”

Anyone can review Tomb Raider. Here, we go the extra mile and review the third-rate knock-off version. For despite being someone whose fondness for maverick studio The Asylum is already on the record, even I have to admit this one is not at all good. It’s one of their “mockbusters”, clearly designed to cash in on the Tomb Raider reboot, and I can see some potential ways how this could have worked. For example, hire a real athlete – ideally Jessie Graff, but probably someone cheaper from the parkour field – and make a no-frills but CGI-free version, with a heroine actually doing impressive things in the running, jumping and climbing department. [Call me, David Michael Latt! Let’s talk…] Instead, we get a cast of four, walking around a forest for 80 minutes and bickering at each other, book-ended by five minutes of somewhat interesting action.

This is, however, as much a rip-off of Indiana Jones as Tomb Raider, right from a heroine called Ally (Vitori), as in short for “Alabama”, who lectures in archaeology at a university. There’s an early scene involving escape while being chased by a rolling stone, differentiated largely by the presence of spikes on it. Hmm. The main plot concerns the search for an artifact called the Heart of the Dragon, which Ally’s mother died looking for in China, twenty years previously. When the late mother’s journal resurfaces, Ally is drawn back to China – or, at least, stock footage thereof, before cutting to the non-Chinese forest – by billionaire Tim Parker (Sloan). He has hired Ally’s rival, Nathan (Katers), and the difference in tomb raiding, sorry, invading philosophy is what leads to the bickering mentioned above.

The lack of energy here is likely the most painful element. Our explorers go through the forest at approximately the speed you would escort an elderly relative around a botanical garden, and when they eventually reach the artifact site, and further booby-traps are unleashed, there no sense of urgency to escape. Even after one of the team is taken down, it’s entirely lacking in emotional impact, partly because the victim served little or no purpose to that point, and partly because they were painfully annoying whenever they opened their mouth. The “real” original movies, particularly the second entry, were no great shakes, yet they look like classics put next to this pale and weak imitation.

Vitori does occasionally look the part, and the minimal amount of action she gets to do is not poorly handled. I did like the sequence where a terracotta statue came to life and had to be fought: it’s exactly the kind of thing I expected to see from this. The film needs about sixty more minutes like it, rather than the jaw-jacking in the woods we actually get. Though considering this was likely made for less than the budget devoted to the care and nurture of Alicia Vikander’s eyebrows, I guess we should be grateful for whatever we get.

Dir: James Thomas
Star: Gina Vitori, Evan Sloan, Samantha Bowling, Andrew J Katers

Hostile Intentions

  By

★★
“Not brought to you by the Mexican Tourist Board…”

Nora (Carrere) and her two American friends cross the border to Tijuana for a weekend of partying. It doesn’t quite go as expected: the trio instead end up locked up in a Mexican police-station. When two cops on guard at the jail attempt to rape one of her pals, Nora grabs a gun and shoots them both dead. While this perhaps does solve the immediate problem, it obviously creates some rather heftier issues. The three women go on the run, assisted by another inmate, Juan Delgado (Gómez), who has the local knowledge they need to survive south of the border. It turns out Juan was just about to sneak across the American border, and he agrees that if they will fund the payment to the coyotes for him and his family, they can come too.

To say this doesn’t present a positive portrayal of Mexico as a holiday destination would be putting it mildly. Even though the incident which kicks everything off is actually the result of uncouth actions by another group of tourists, it doesn’t exactly depict the locals – the police, especially – in anything except a horrible light. Of course, this is also the poster-child for Bad Decisions Made Overseas, so it’s not as if Nora and her pals deserve to escape the consequences of their own actions. #1 would be “Going to Tijuana,” which in the mid-nineties was a major drug-hub, the local cartel being among the most feared gangs in Mexico. [In 1997, the DEA called the Tijuana Cartel “undeniably the most violent” organization.] So, my sympathy for Nora’s predicament is muted at best.

Even Juan and his family aren’t exactly sympathetic. Between cheerfully confessing that “everybody” wants to sneak across to America, and the gun-battle that breaks out between the illegal immigrants and the federal agents on the U.S. side, they’re basically walking advertisements for Trump’s wall. While this may be partly the result of societal changes over the two decades since this was released in 1995, I think it probably seemed dubious at the time, based off the poorly-considered scenes spent both at the American consulate and behind the scenes with the Border Patrol. I kept expecting these to play some role in subsequent events: never happens. 

The main positive from this is Carrere, whose portrayal of Nora provides – despite the snark above – an energetic enough heroine, pro-active rather than reactive. She especially seems so, when set beside her two travel-mates, who largely sit around bemoaning their fates. There’s no particular reason why there need to be three women here at all; the others serve little purpose, except for an embarrassing subplot where one of them slept with the other’s boyfriend. Not that this has any significant impact, thanks to the “sisters before misters” philosophy on view. If this had been a solo adventure for Nora, Carrere has the charisma to have pulled it off. Instead, we get an ill-conceived exercise, which can’t figure out whether it wants to be liberal or conservative hogwash.

Dir: Catherine Cyran
Star: Tia Carrere, Lisa Dean Ryan, Tricia Leigh Fisher, Carlos Gómez

Scorched Earth

  By

★★★
“Future imperfect.”

This workmanlike effort, if not particularly memorable, does at least cross two genres not frequently combined: the Western and the post-apocalypse movie. For it takes place in a world where global warming and other stuff have created a poisoned wasteland. Consequently, the currencies of choice are water purification tablets and silver, the latter being the raw ingredient in the air filtration masks which have become essential. Using vehicles powered by fossil fuels is totally outlawed, and those who do have rewards placed on their heads, attracting the attention of bounty hunters.

One such is Atticus Gage (Carano), who hears from former partner, Doc (Hannah) of an outlaw town, Defiance. This is run by Thomas Jackson (Robbins), whose bounty exceeds them all. Inevitably, Gage heads to the town to take Jackson out, adopting the identity of one of her previous targets, and insinuating herself into his posse. And equally inevitably, he turns out to have a connection to a dark incident in Gage’s past, when not plotting to re-open a nearby silver mine, the ore being dug out by pilgrims kidnapped off a nearby trail.

Carano has struggled to repeat the success of her (effective) feature debut, Haywire, with cinematic supporting parts in the likes of Deadpool and Fast and Furious 6 alternating with straight-to-video starring roles, such as In the Blood. These have been best when she has been allowed to concentrate on the physical aspects which are her strength, and the same goes here, right from the first moment we see her, riding into shot and dragging a coffin behind her, in a nice nod to the original Django. However, if she’s ever going to go further, she needs to show significantly more development as an actress. Haywire was now seven years ago – not that you’d know it from her performance here, especially when put alongside someone like Hannah.

I did like the overall setting, despite odd gaps in logic: sometimes people need to wear masks, at other times they don’t. It’s a universe which I’d have been interested to see explored some more, perhaps in an extended format, such as a TV series. This could have answered questions such as, where are those pilgrims going, anyway? I also appreciated how Gage has the ability to be a complete bad-ass, on more than one occasion showing absolutely no qualms about shiving or shooting those who might be about to blow the gaff on her assumed identity.

The tone is likely best summed up by a sequence in which Gage finds herself sealed into her own coffin and tossed off the side of a cliff. Naturally, she survives, staggering back to Doc, who patches her up, allowing the pair of them to return to Defiance, for a final grandstand(ish) shoot-out. It’s all thoroughly implausible, yet somehow, is in keeping with the pulp/comic-book aesthetic for which the makers seem to be aiming. I can’t say it’s entirely, or even largely, successful there. Yet it’s just enough to leave me back on the hook for whatever Carano does next, hoping for better.

Dir: Peter Howitt
Star: Gina Carano, Ryan Robbins, John Hannah, Stephanie Bennett

A Deadly Game

  By

★½
“An arrow escape.”

Winner of the “Most misleading DVD cover of the year” award, the gap between expectation and reality has rarely been wider. It starts off promisingly enough, with young woman Kayla (Fairaway), carrying a bow and running away from a man in a car. She’s rescued by a passing motorist, but they are run off the road by their pursuer. There’s then a flashback, to explain how these events came about. Which would be fine, except for the flashback lasting close to an hour and a quarter of thoroughly mind-numbing chit-chat, before anyone even picks up a bow in anger. It’s not exactly the Hunger Games wannabe the sleeve is trying to suggest.

One of the alternative names, Deadly Spa, is far more accurate, even though it’s a title more likely to raise a smirk than a rush of adrenaline-charged excitement. Kayla is at the spa in question – ‘The Source’ with her mother, Dawn (Pietz), having convinced Mom she needs a break. At first, the place seems beyond perfect: all meditation rooms, power food breakfasts, toxin-cleansing saunas, and of course, no cell-phones allowed. Though Kayla has a yearning for a cheeseburger, which she guiltily admits to sympathetic (and hunky!) spa employee, Brett (Werkheiser).

Like most things in Lifetime TV movies which seem too good to be true, this is too good to be true. In particular, spa owner David James (Whitworth) has more in common with David Koresh than his customers should expect. He takes a shine to Dawn, and successfully pulls the wool over her eyes. Kayla is nowhere near so easily convinced, not least because she has seen David’s more psychotic side. When her mother finally sees the light as well, the two try to escape, planning to divulge David’s dirty little secrets to the authorities. If you’re well-read on cult leaders like Jim Jones, you’ll know that, to David, it makes them a problem. The solution initially involves tying Kayla up in an attic and inflicting low-rent brain-washing techniques on her. It doesn’t take. This is my unsurprised face. 

Eventually – and, boy, do I mean “eventually” – this brings us back to where we came in. It takes so long, that I was beginning to feel I was the one held captive against my will, though unfortunately without any of that nice Stockholm syndrome kicking in. [And the sooner the PTSD kicks in and erases the whole movie from my memory, the better] First mom, and then the daughter, use their archery skills, miraculously picked up after little more than two arrows, to defend themselves. It’s just enough content – along with Mom’s miraculous and unannounced judoka talents, allowing her to flip one of David’s henchmen off a cliff – to allow this to qualify for the site. However, this review should be considered far more of a warning, than any kind of endorsement. I’m sure the place will be getting a one-star review on Yelp as well.

Dir: Marita Grabiak
Star: Amy Pietz, Tracey Fairaway, Johnny Whitworth, Devon Werkheiser
a.k.a. Zephyr Springs and Deadly Spa

The Vault

  By

★★★
“It’s always somebody else’s vault…”

In an effort to pay off gambling debts their brother Michael (Haze) has run up, sisters Leah (Eastwood) and Vee (Manning) plan and execute a bank robbery. While smart in intent – they set up a diversion, and have a cunning escape route prepared – it’s not long before the operation goes wrong. The bank’s safe does not hold anywhere near the expected haul: fortunately, the assistant manager (Franco) helpfully informs them of an undisclosed vault in the basement holding six million dollars in cash. Sending some of their gang down to the vault, The sisters can only watch on CCTV aghast, as the men are picked off by mysterious figures. For, it turns out, the bank was the site of a robbery in 1982, leading to a hostage situation that ended in multiple deaths. The ghosts of those involved are still in the basement, and opening the vault has apparently released them to take revenge.

I don’t think I’ve seen a film which combined a heist flick with a ghost story before, and it works fairly well. I say “fairly”, since it feels uneven. The bank robbery side is meticulously assembled, to the point that it could have been better if that been the movie’s sole focus. Eastwood, who made a strong impression in M.F.A., is equally as good here, playing Leah as a cunning strategist who has put a lot of thought into her meticulous plan, only for it to be derailed by factors outside her control. Vee, on the other hand, is a loose cannon, driven by her emotions, and reacting to events rather than managing them. You understand perfectly why the two sisters have led separate lives prior to reuniting to help Michael, though the specific details of the estrangement are never revealed.

It was almost an annoyance when the supernatural elements began to kick in, for those were not handled as effectively. Perhaps it’s a case of over-familiarity, with the horror genre being one with which I am particularly well-acquainted; the barely-glimpsed dark figures just didn’t do it for me. Some elements reminded me of the dumber excesses of the genre too. For instance, the willingness of the robbers to stumble around an extremely dimly-lit basement, without going, “Hang on… This makes no sense”. Or given the spectacular and murderous nature of the original robbery, it stretches belief that these local robbers had apparently never even heard of it. That’s a bit like someone from Hollywood not having heard of Charlie Manson.

While never derailing entirely the solid foundation of character and story-line set up in the first half, I couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed by the relative weakness of the second portion. Matters are likely not helped by an unsubtle coda which appears to have strayed in from a far worse film. This adds little if anything to the movie, and isn’t the sort of final impression you’d want to leave on an audience. The performances definitely deserved better.

Dir: Dan Bush
Star: Francesca Eastwood, Taryn Manning, Scott Haze, James Franco

The Bad Batch

  By

★★
“After the apocalypse, there will still be photocopiers. And raves.”

In the film’s defense, it’s not clear quite how post-apocalyptic this is meant to be, since we don’t see anything of the world at large. Everything takes place inside a stretch of desert which has been used, apparently for some time, as a dumping ground for the dregs of society. Into this environment is dropped Arlen (Waterhouse), who soon gets first-hand experience of the situation, when a cannibal mother and daughter capture her, and cut off an arm and a leg. She escapes, and is found and rescued by the Hermit (Carrey), who brings her to Comfort, the nearest the zone offers to civilization. When she’s well again, Arlen returns to take revenge on the mother, but believing the daughter to be innocent, takes her back to Comfort. Which provokes the ire of Miami Man (Monoa), a tattooed behemoth who turns out to be the girl’s father, and wants her back.

There’s also Keanu Reeves, running around as “the Dream,” a rave promoter, drug pusher and overall lord of Comfort, who has a harem of pregnant, gun-toting women, all sporting “The Dream is inside me” T-shirts: probably the film’s most memorable image, despite its undoubted ludicrousness. But it all fails to gel into anything coherent or interesting, except in very sporadic moments. It’s a long slog through the first 30 minutes, which are almost entirely dialogue-free, to get to what passes for the meat of the story – though it’s more like undercooked tofu, to be honest.

For the movie never achieves anything like a consistent direction or even tone. Even its Wikipedia page calls the film a “romantic drama horror-thriller”. Good luck juggling all those genres. Is it aspiring to be Mad Max? A spaghetti Western? My best guess could well be, merely a six million dollar budgeted excuse for the director’s favourite Spotify playlist, the soundtrack roaming with jarring inconsistency from Culture Club to Die Antwoord, while we endure lengthy shots of Arlen wandering the desert, high on the Dream’s product. And don’t even get me started on the Hawaiian Momoa playing a supposed Cuban, with a cod-Mexican accent. I’m just glad Chris (whose family is genuinely Cuban) wasn’t around, or all Momoa’s scenes would have been overdubbed with a stream of her derisive snorts, emanating from next to me on the couch.

I did appreciate the look of the film, with some striking imagery: the towering wall of shipping containers, parked in the middle of the desert, for example. That just isn’t enough to sustain a 115-minute running-time, especially when the film seems to get bored of its own ideas, and forget about them. Miami Man, for example, despite proclaiming that his daughter is the only thing he cares about, apparently abandons this search and drifts away from the picture, apparently preferring to do something else for much of the second half. This viewer’s interest was right there beside him.

Dir: Ana Lily Amirpour
Star: Suki Waterhouse, Jason Momoa, Keanu Reeves, Jim Carrey