Tag: wilderness

Breaking In

  By

★★
“Dumb and dumber: the home invasion”

After her father is killed, Shaun (Union – yes, I know “Shaun” is an odd name for a woman) heads to the remote home Dad owned in the country, with her two young children, to clear it out. Unfortunately, she crosses paths there with Eddie (Burke) and his gang of three thugs. They are at the house, in the belief there’s a safe which contains a large quantity of money. Shaun and family represent an unwelcome interruption, because they’re on a strict schedule, before the security company makes it out to investigate their disabling of the phone lines. The thugs take the kids hostage, with Shaun stuck outside the very secure home. Fortunately, she has taken a hostage of her own – the safe-cracker Eddie brought along.

This initially makes for a somewhat interesting twist on the usual scenario: rather than being trapped inside and trying to get out, the heroine needs, as the title suggests, to break into the building. And the “mother bear seeking to defend her cubs” motif is always a good foundation. Unfortunately, there hasn’t been nearly enough effort put into the scenario past that point. In particular, both sides need to behave with the enhanced level of contrived idiocy necessary to the plot. If either Shaun or Eddie had acted in accordance with simple principles of common sense, this would likely have lasted no longer than 15-20 minutes. Though in Eddie’s defense, he is a razor-sharp intellect compared to his minions. I’d have a quiet word with his HR department about quality control, which is clearly not among their recruitment tools.

Everything from the basic premise on, is questionable at best. What kind of cheap-ass security company takes several hours to respond to an alert? Quite how Shaun is capable of going toe-to-toe with career criminals like Eddie and his crew is never explained, and nor is her decision not to get help, beyond vaguely hand-waving lines such as, “Moms don’t run, not when their babies are trapped in the nest.” Other dialogue includes, “I wish I could have had a Mom like you,” entirely expositional statements, e.g. “You’re a woman, alone at the mercy of strangers, and your greatest weakness is locked inside this house,” and the climactic, “You broke into the wrong house!” which for anyone, like me, who’s a fan of Tremors, will provoke sniggers more than the intended triumphant cheers.

These quotes are also a fairly accurate representation of the level of effort that we see put into the characterizations here. Thus, among Eddie’s henchmen, we get the inevitable Heavily Tattooed Latino Psychopath, as well as the Nice Guy Who Didn’t Sign Up For This. It’s all very by the numbers, and while Union does her best, the script ensures that’s not much more than coming off as a low-rent version of Halle Berry in Kidnap. Mind you, given the tagline there was “They messed with the wrong mother,” this project largely feels like it was cribbed from the same playbook. And there are certainly better movies available to steal from.

Dir: James McTeigue
Star: Gabrielle Union, Billy Burke, Richard Cabral, Levi Meaden

PULSE: The Trial by R.A. Crawford

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Literary rating: ★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆☆

The synopsis starts, “It’s been 100 years since the inter-galactic organization known as PULSE intervened to liberate the women of Earth. Now purged of its male population, the women have embarked on a journey to take their place in the all-female cosmic society.” Wait, what? That seems quite the “previously…” to skip over completely. It is a lightly-sketched universe, and one which perhaps raises more questions than it answers, not least the implication that every solar system has the same concepts of “male” and “female” as we do.

Anyway, taking that as read, the spearhead of this trans-galactic Amazonian army are PULSE, which is short for the Planetary Union of Life-form Salvation and Emancipation. Becoming a PULSE officer is not for the faint of heart, requiring years of training, which culminate in the infamously brutal final test of the title. In this case, the graduating class are dropped on an undeveloped planet, and have to make their way across its surface, to where a ship is programmed to depart at a preset time. But quite intentionally, it’s a thoroughly unforgiving landscape, to the point of lethality. Every step seems to bring a new threat, from native fauna through deliberate traps to the worst of them all – the Huntress, a PULSE dropout whose apparent mission is to ensure the final graduation ceremony can take place in a phone-booth.

After the initial couple of chapters set the scene, it’s almost non-stop action once we reach the planet’s surface, as we follow the paths of a (dwindling) number of candidates. The main focus is on two aspiring PULSE officers, Stella and Faye, who have become a team over their training, using their respective strengths to buttress each other’s weaknesses. But how will they cope after being separated? And what about the other candidates, such as top of the class Miriyada, or Kandis, who was curiously absent for most classes?

It’s a bit odd how some of the women seem keen on sabotaging other candidates. If it were “first 10 to finish graduate”, this might make sense, but everyone who reaches the ship passes, and I’d have said you’d want to encourage co-operation among potential officers. The level of bitchy backstabbing seen here, seems more like high-school than a military institution. There are also a few occasions when Crawford doesn’t have a very good handle on describing the action. For instance, a fight on the side of a mountain takes place; beyond that, I’ve still no real idea what was going on. And it might have been nice to take advantage of having a galaxy to work with, and add more diversity to the candidates; they all seem a bit… humanoid.

On the other hand, I can’t argue with the pace at all: this is one of the most page-turning stories I’ve read in the last year. I wanted to know what happens next, and the clear sense of “anyone can die at any time” created a genuine sense of threat for the remaining characters. The strictly gynocentric approach here leaves no room at all for romance – the bane of the literary genre as far as I’m concerned – so I appreciated that. These positive aspects did a good job of countering the flaws noted above, and although the ending is less cliff-hanger than brick wall, I’d not be averse to seeing where things go from here.

Author: R.A. Crawford
Publisher: Createspace Independent Publishing Platform, available through Amazon as an e-book or paperback.
Book 1 of 2 in the PULSE series.

Fair Game (1986)

  By

★★★
“Time to back out of the outback…”

First off, this is not to be confused with the other Australian film of the eighties by the same name, made four years previously. This is considerably more sparse, and likely the better for it. Jessica (Delaney, who went on to marry John Denver, and have a highly acrimonious divorce from him) runs an animal sanctuary in the outback, but discovers someone has been hunting the local fauna on it. Suspicion falls on three local yahoos: Sunny (Ford, reminiscent of a young Sam Neill), Ringo (Sandford, doing some impressive stunts) and Sparks (Who – no, really, that’s his name), a trio of hunters targeting kangaroos – regarded as vermin by the farmers – for their meat. They don’t take kindly to being confronted, and begin an escalating campaign of terror against Jessica. But even a peaceful animal-lover can only be pushed so far before she breaks. Turns out that line is likely being strapped to the hood of their Jeep and driven topless across the countryside. Or thereabouts.

While I doubt the maker of Revenge saw this fairly obscure film, it does seem somewhat similar, with three men pursuing a lone woman through a desert wilderness, before the tables are turned on them. Quentin Tarantino has also spoken glowingly aout this piece of Ozploitation, and you have to wonder if the scene described above was perhaps one of the inspirations for Death Proof, in which the similarly Antipodean Zoë Bell spends a good bit of time on the bonnet of a speeding car – albeit more clothed and of her own volition [Though amusingly, one of the video covers for the film opts to depict a rather more chaste version of the scene] If so, I can see why he opted to lift only that sequence, as the film as a whole is rather… jerky, for want of a better word. By which I mean, the narrative feels like it consists of a series of unconnected sequences, rather than ones which flow into each other.

There is still a certain sense of escalation, and for once, there isn’t actually a sexual assault. The thugs’ actions begin with petty bullying, and escalates through stalkerish activities, like taking a Polaroid of Jessica while she sleeps, but bypass the obvious rape, which is refreshing. However, it still takes a bit too long to get to the meat of proceedings, with Jessica turning her farmstead into a series of home-made, yet increasingly lethal, traps with which she can defend herself. I’d like to have seen this stretched out, rather than compressed into a frantic final 15 minutes. She’s the hunted rather than the hunter for the majority of the time, and as usual, the former is the less interesting part of the equation. Cinematographer Andrew Lesnie went on to become Peter Jackson’s favorite cameraman until his death in 2015, and does a nice job of capturing the wild beauty of the Australian wilderness.

Dir: Mario Andreacchio
Star: Cassandra Delaney, Peter Ford, David Sandford, Garry Who

Cold November

  By

★★★
“Deer Florence…”

If you think children are of one mind with regard to the gun debate, thanks to the zealots of Marjory Stoneman, the alternative view portrayed by this movie will feel amazingly transgressive and almost alien. The world it depicts is one where schools will actually teach kids how to use guns safely, handing out gun permits, and a teenage girl can receive a treasured family heirloom, in the shape of a .30-30 rifle, passed down the generations. Hunting is a way of life, and an important resource, with a particularly strong matriarchal tradition, in which three generations of women will be going into the woods together. For 12-year-old Florence (Abas), it’ll be her first excursion: in a not-too-subtle parallel, she also gets her first period.

This is a very sober film, which takes guns and the culture around them extremely seriously, and that includes hunting, which is depicted in unflinching fashion. This is likely not a film for the committed vegan, in particular when Florence has shot her first deer and, in the absence of any immediate adult help, has to dress it. This is foreshadowed earlier, Florence’s aunt Mia (Fellner) teasing her when the young girl gets a bit squeamish about menstrual blood (and in particular, its uses in hunting): “You think that’s gross? Wait until you get elbows deep inside a deer.” As someone who tends to encounter raw meat only on polystyrene trays in the supermarket, it’s quite a shock – albeit also refreshing – to be reminded from where it comes.

On the other hand, the naturalistic approach eventually hampers the film, simply because so little of note actually happens. Up until the end, when Florence finds herself alone in the woods for a bit, virtually the sole bit of excitement is a small fire breaking out in the tree stand. This is not exactly an adrenaline rush. In Jacob’s defense, it’s clearly not intended to be: according to the director on the film’s Kickstarter page, “I noticed how the power of taking a life, butchering an animal, and meditating through the act was empowering. It changes you. It seemed clear that those who had not lived through this change have a fundamentally different experience of life.” However, quite what that “change” might be for Florence is not clear. How is her life “fundamentally different” as a result? We don’t really know.

The main difference seems to be that Florence is no longer visited by the ghost of Sweeney, her late sibling. This is another time the film’s opacity is a bit irritating: it’s suggested that Sweeney’s death was tragic, and perhaps even firearm-related. But would it have been too much to ask, for the film-makers to be a little clearer, on what appears to be an important point? Despite these criticisms, while it’s probably not a film I’d watch again, I didn’t feel it was 90 minutes wasted. Very much understated, this provides a glimpse into an environment not often depicted by Hollywood, one where guns are a tool, and not a threat.

Dir: Karl Jacob
Star: Bijou Abas, Anna Klemp, Heidi Fellner, Karl Jacob

Breakdown Lane

  By

★★
“In need of some roadside assistance.”

An initial twist on the zombie apocalypse and an appealing heroine aren’t enough to save this. By the end, while said heroine has transformed into a mayhem-dealing machine, any fresh elements have been discarded, for a low-budget rehash of ones which we’ve seen far too often already. It starts intriguingly, with Kirby Lane (Moore) “ambushed” by a woman in a camper with a sick man at a gas station, while on the way to meet her boyfriend (Cushing). When her car breaks down in the middle of absolutely nowhere, the only connection to the outside world is Max (Howell), the agent for her on-board emergency help provider. But things in the outside world are deteriorating rapidly, and the tow-truck Max dispatches… well, let’s just say, it might be a while. Meanwhile, Kirby has to handle the perils which threaten her, including humans both infected and cannibalistic, as she tries to fulfill her promise to link up with Max.

The combination of zombies and deserts reminded me of It Stains the Sands Red, which I’d recently seen. And, like there, the makers apparently realized half-way through that the remote setting they’d chosen couldn’t actually sustain a feature, and opted to revert back to over-familiar tropes. While ending with the same overall grade as Stains, it gets there in a rather different way. This clearly has a far smaller budget, and is significantly less technically-accomplished [if the faux comic-book interludes don’t annoy the hell out of you after ten minutes… Wait longer…] But unlike Stains, it has a heroine who comes over as genuine and likable. Courtesy of Moore’s performance, you want to see Kirby survive, and that goes some distance to help paper over the obvious cracks.

Some distance, however, remains short of enough. The contrivance of having Kirby push her car across the terrain, as shelter and so she can keep hanging out with Max, is flat-out ridiculous. And once she gets back to civilization, the film can do nothing except bang out the low-budget zombie notes with which any genre fan is already familiar. Kirby’s transition into a tooled-up bad-ass momentarily piqued interest here, except it comes out of nowhere – and serves no particular purpose either, since there isn’t enough time left for it to become a significant factor. By the end, it has largely dissolved into another cheap horror film, indistinguishable from the rest, and neither particularly good nor bad as such things are concerned.

Although, here’s something odd. The film makes much of its Canadian-ness in the end credits, but unless they’ve started growing saguaros up North, looks to me like it was largely filmed in an utterly uncredited Arizona. That applies both to the desert scenes and the later urban ones. In particular, there’s a garage which is located about three miles from GWG Towers here, and one of the post-apocalypse vehicles seems to belong to a cosplay group we’re familiar with, the Department of Zombie Defense. Sheesh, how’s a state supposed to grow its film industry?

Dir: Robert Conway, Bob Schultz
Star: Whitney Moore, Stephen Tyler Howell, Aric Cushing

Hunting Emma

  By

★★★½
“The Revenge knock-offs start here…”

Actually, that’s unfair. For this was released in its home country of South Africa in March 2017, six months before Revenge had its world premiere. But the timing of its US release, less than two weeks after Revenge, is… let’s say, “interesting”, given the strong similarities between the two films. While there are significant differences, which we’ll get to shortly, both depict the pursuit of a lone woman across a desert landscape, by a pack of men intent on making sure she doesn’t get out alive. She has to turn the tables on them, pushing past societal norms in the name of self-preservation.

Indeed, if I was the makers of Jagveld, I might be a bit miffed that they’re now faced to play catch-up in the US market. Revenge has swept in and grabbed all the plaudits, leaving their film feeling (even if it isn’t) like a mockbuster. It inevitably suffers from being second. If I hadn’t seen Revenge, this might well have got our seal of approval. Instead, it no longer feels as fresh, even if it’s by no means bad. It doesn’t have quite the same feminist subtext, bypassing the sexual assault angle. Instead, the trigger for the hunt is a car breaking down in the veldt, and while Emma (du Randt) is looking for help, she stumbles across Bosman (van Jaarsveld) and his gang, just as they’re shooting a policeman. This not being something to which they want a witness, the chase is on.

This is rather more restrained than Revenge: something of a double-edged sword, as its sibling’s excess was part of the gonzo charm. Most obviously, it’s far less gory, and also has a more prosaic explanation for the heroine’s savagery. Rather than peyote triggering a pharmacological resurrection, Emma’s dad (Meintjes) was a special forces soldier. His cynical view about the savagery of the world led him to train her in survival skills, an upbringing she rejects in favour of a career as a teacher and fervent pacifism – there’s a rather clunky subplot about her breaking up with a boyfriend because he defended himself in a fight. The lessons still stuck, and just as there are no atheists in fox-holes, there are no pacifists in desert warfare.

There’s something of the young Uma Thurman about du Randt, and the gang members offer an interesting range of characters, from the hardcore Bosman through to some of his minions, who would clearly rather be somewhere else. While they’re all meat for Emma’s grinder, some of the wounds are rather self-inflicted [even I know better than to drink untreated wilderness water, and I do not camp well…] The main flaw is its lack of a sense of escalation, something Revenge had by the crimson-coloured bucket. When I saw Bosman picking up his F-sized rifle, I was eagerly anticipating the moment it would be turned against him. At close range. By a thoroughly pissed Emma. No such luck, but I did appreciate what might be a nod to Ms. 45 in the use of an iron as a deadly weapon. Instead, it plateaus some time before the end, finishing on an “All right, I suppose” note rather than the necessary crescendo. Worth a look though. Especially if you haven’t seen Revenge yet.

Dir: Byron Davis
Star: Leandie du Randt, Neels van Jaarsveld, Tim Theron, Tertius Meintjes
a.k.a. Jagveld

Revenge

  By

★★★★½
“Women always have to put up a fucking fight.”

This French rape-revenge movie is the most blood-drenched GWG film I’ve seen since Kill Bill, Volume 1, and is not for the faint of heart. However, the good news is, it’s not the rape part of the equation which is hard to watch: this is depicted with admirable restraint, occurring mostly off-camera. The director has stressed that the story isn’t about the rape, and I’m delighted with that: it has always struck me as the least interesting element. It’s a plot device, to kick-off what matters. Focusing on it, as some films have done, seems to me like focusing on turning the ignition key, instead of driving the car. This, instead, offers a road-trip to remember.

The victim is Jen (Lutz), a young girl having a weekend in the Moroccan desert with her rich, married boyfriend, Richard (Janssens). He’s also there to do a spot of hunting with his pals, Stan and Dimitri (Colombe and Bouchède). They four have a night drinking and dancing, but the next morning, when Richard heads off to make travel arrangements, Stan rapes Jen. On Richard’s return, he tries to smooth things over. Jen is having none of it, and storms off. Knowing that any legal complaint would destroy his marriage, Richard fakes calling for transport out, then pushes Jen off a cliff. Her landing is… not a soft one. Convinced the problem is solved, the men leave disposing of the body until later. Except, Jen isn’t dead, and when the trio go back, she’s not there. Helped by some impressively strong peyote – in this case, the drugs clearly do work – she patches herself up, and turns the hunters into the hunted.

First, let me address the improbably-resilient elephant in the room. Yes, her survival and pursuit is implausible, with a couple of large holes. Literally: one of the film’s two highly cringe-inducing pieces of self-surgery shows Jen patching up a hole in her stomach. Yet there must, of necessity, be an even larger one in her back. What happened to that? To be honest, they didn’t need this aspect at all: simply surviving the fall would have been hardcore enough. She also goes barefoot through the entire film, without a whimper. In the Arizona summer, I can’t take the garbage out barefoot without leaving singed skin on the drive. One shot of her pulling the shoes off her first victim would have fixed that.

It’s a shame, albeit a minor one, because virtually everything else is perfect. The transition of Jen, from the stuff of Richard’s fantasies, to that of his nightmares – he’s the one who delivers the tagline above – is impeccably handled. Even her good looks transform. At the beginning, it’s a shallow and utterly conventional prettiness – which she has exploited into a weekend getaway to a luxury location. By the end, she has paid a terrible price for this. Yet even as she’s missing minor body parts, disfigured, drenched in blood (both hers and others) and covered in desert grime… she’s glowing. Her inner beauty shines through, increasingly illuminating the bad-ass bitch she has become over the course of proceedings.

For a film lauded for its supposed up-ending of the male gaze, this feels a bit odd, since it could be read as the sexual assault triggering Jen’s blossoming: rape as psychological therapy. She should thank her attackers! [The image of a rising phoenix branded into her skin, due to her impromptu first-aid, is not exactly subtle in its imagery. Then again, the entire film is not exactly subtle, and proudly defiant as such] If that reading is on shaky ground, it’s also amusing to note Revenge utterly fails the dreaded Bechdel Test, despite being brutally empowering, to a degree rarely seen. More evidence – as if it were really needed – of how shitty the Bechdel Test is at evaluating films.

The good thing is that the feature’s entertainment value in no way relies on any kind of Identity Politics 1.0.1. to work. It functions perfectly well as a stripped-down pursuit, which neither asks for, no offers, any kind of quarter on behalf of the participants – for their genders or any other reason. There’s a steady, relentless escalation to proceedings from the moment Jen takes flight, to a final confrontation which redefines “paint the walls blood-red”. That’s a jaw-dropping pursuit round the house where things began, and includes proof that cling film, like duct tape, has a thousand and one uses.

The director says the only previous example of the rape-revenge genre she watched was Wes Craven’s Last House on the Left. Though if true, the proximity of names for the heroine here and in the genre’s most infamous entry, I Spit On Your Grave, is a striking coincidence. That aside, it’s interesting to note that the only other female-directed entry, Baise-moi, was also from France. And in tone, this has almost as much in common with À l’interieur (Inside), which was just as blood-drenched, and similarly gave absolutely no fucks. Much credit to Fargeat for this “take no prisoners” attitude, and delivering a thoroughly uncompromising piece of cinema; kudos for all of her cast as well, in particular Lutz, who go all-in to no less a degree.

I’ve been watching extreme films for thirty years or so, and let’s be honest, you get a bit desensitized to it all. We went to see this one at a local art cinema, and from their reactions, it was clear that most of the audience were, let’s say, not as “experienced” in the ways of savage cinema as Chris and I. Their responses merely added to the fun: I’d kinda forgotten how audience reaction can enhance a film (their goddamn rustling of snacks… not so much, but let’s move rapidly on). At the end, after all was said and done, one of the other attendees blurted out loud, “Best ten bucks I’ve ever spent.” I’m not inclined to disagree. Despite its flaws – which I acknowledge and embrace – if 2018 offers a film which packs a bigger punch, I can’t wait to see it.

Dir: Coralie Fargeat
Star: Matilda Lutz, Kevin Janssens, Vincent Colombe, Guillaume Bouchède

12 Feet Deep: Trapped Sisters

  By

★★½
“Drowning, not waving.”

There aren’t many films which will be reviewed both here and on aquaticsintl.com, a site offering “Commercial swimming pool and waterpark industry news” [their opinion: a “woefully inaccurate portrayal of pool technology”]. But then, if you see only one film about sisters trapped underneath a swimming-pool cover this year… Yeah, it’s highly likely to be this one. Eskandari deserves some credit for taking a paper-thin and highly dubious premise and almost stretching it out to feature length. But even he eventually runs out of steam at about the hour mark, and derisive snorting will take over from there. 

Siblings Bree (Noone) and Jonna (Park) are the victims, after trying to retrieve the former’s engagement ring from the bottom of the pool. Lackadaisical pool manager (Bell, recognizable to horror fans from the Saw franchise) closes the giant fibreglass pool cover on them – though I defer to the experts at aquaticsintl.com, who said, “There is no way that would possibly ever meet any ASTM standards for pool safety covers used in the U.S.” Having flagrantly disregarded ASTM standards, he then locks up shop, leaving the pair trapped underneath over a long holiday weekend. Their only hope is the pool’s cleaner, Clara (Farr), but she’s not long out of prison, and the felon sees Bree and Jonna as a moist, trapped meal ticket. Her demands to free them begin with the PIN for Bree’s phone, and escalate from there, as the sisters strive for their own escape.

This feels like a descendant of 47 Meters Down, which was the spawn of The Shallows, which called back to Open Water, all using drowning as the main threat. At least here, “being eaten” isn’t on the menu, and the story has to contrive a number of other elements to stretch things out. Thus we (eventually) get the truth about the death of Brie and Jonna’s father, and the latter’s jealousy about the former’s engagement leads to significant quantities of sibling bickering. Jonna initially comes across as quite the bitch, though we eventually discover there are reasons for her being a curmudgeon. Oh, and did I mention that Bree is a diabetic, who needs an insulin shot, like now?

Supposedly “based on true events” – I can hear derisive laughter from acquaticsintl.com as I write – you’d probably need an especially forgiving nature to get past the “I’m so sure” moments here, such as why they bother to tread water for much of the film, when they could just head to the shallow end and stand there [as well as getting much better leverage for their breakout efforts]. In the first half, things are executed with enough energy as to paper over the cracks, and the series of unfortunate events by which the two women end up trapped is more plausible than I expected. However, I can’t helped thinking it would have been much improved, had Bell returned as his Jigsaw character at the half-way point, and released some sharks into the pool.

Dir: Matt Eskandari
Star: Alexandra Park, Nora-Jane Noone, Diane Farr, Tobin Bell

It Stains the Sands Red

  By

★★
“Aunt Ruby goes on a trip.”

As the world goes through the zombie apocalypse, Molly (Allen) and boyfriend Nick (Mondesir) are elsewhere. Specifically, driving through the desert near Las Vegas, heading towards an airfield where they are going to catch a flight to Mexico – and, hopefully, safely. After their car gets stuck in the sand, Nick is attacked by a lone zombie (Riedinger), Molly flees on foot, striking out in the hopes of getting to the airfield, and pursued by the relentless creature. For it turns out the heroine is having her period, which allows the zombie to track her – and also lends a rather different meaning to the film’s title…

It’s the kind of idea which would have made a strong short film, but falls apart when stretched to feature length. To reach that duration, the story has to bolt on all manner of additional elements, most of which don’t work, while also leaving some gaping plotholes, through which an entire army of the undead could stumble. For instance, there are moments where the zombie is just feet behind Molly; then, in the next scene, she’s far enough ahead to be able to stop for a snooze. Given she seems to have no athletic ability and is clad in shoes which are as far from desert-traversing footwear as imaginable, it feels as if she’s teleporting ahead of her pursuer. Similarly, when she reaches her destination, the script is flipped, and this coke-snorting bitch suddenly becomes a devoted mother, desperate to return to Las Vegas and be re-united with her child. It’s a startlingly unconvincing development.

The aspect that perhaps works best is a surprising one: the relationship between Molly and her pursuer, in particular after he saves her from an unpleasant fate. It’s largely unwitting – just his nature in action – and requires more suspension of disbelief in the way he suddenly can apparently enter stealth mode. But it adds a nice wrinkle, albeit one which is rapidly discarded for the film’s change in direction over the final third. There, the film abandons any effort at inventiveness, and returns to the same furrow which has pretty much been ploughed into the ground [admittedly, where you would expect to find a furrow] by the multitude of zombie films, TV shows, books and games churned out over the past decade or so.

To the makers’ credit, they did at least realize they needed to find something new, a different direction which would help their creation stand out from the walking dead crowd. It’s unfortunate they managed to screw things up in almost every direction once they got past that decision, beginning with a heroine who is startlingly unlikable for the vast bulk of its running time. At one point, she whines at her pursuer, “You’re like every guy I’ve ever met a bar!” I couldn’t help thinking, that’s the kind of comment which says more about the person making it, than the target. You might find yourself rooting for the zombie.

Dir: Colin Minihan
Star: Brittany Allen, Juan Riedinger, Merwin Mondesir

Tomb Raider

  By

★★½
“The female movie version of Green Arrow“

SPOILER ALERT. The following discusses the plot in some depth, and includes spoilers for it. You have been warned!

It’s not great. It’s also not terrible. It’s just… average. This doesn’t break the so-called “video-game adaptation curse”, but nor is it a movie that you will passionately regret having seen – unless you paid too much to see it. Though I didn’t see it in 3D, it’s rather two-dimensional, and doesn’t feel like something which requires to be seen in 3D. It’s a rental – or even wait until it is shown for free on TV – more than a movie worth going to the cinema to see. I don’t regret having watched it, but nor would I regret not having watched it.

The above may all seem contradictory, but this belongs in the category of movies that are so mediocre, it’s very difficult to find strong arguments either for or against. It’s simply “there”. Comparable, maybe, to Tarzan or King Arthur. But then, I’d rate it higher than Wonder Woman, which I found more lackluster than this. So who knows, maybe you will love this, and wonder what I’m talking about?

For call me prejudiced, but I still prefer Angelina Jolie in the role. When I saw the original movie in 2001, I liked it very much, and over the years have found myself watching the Jolie films time and again. It may have something to do with the fact that these films are shown about every other month on TV! ;-) But there’s no denying, Jolie left her mark on the character and that Lara Croft was her star-making and maybe even image-shaping role. Vikander, who is being praised in so many online reviews… Well, I do admit that she is really trying, has some charm and was given the chance to display some humor, usually in her responses to serious questions – it seemed like her “defense” against answering those.

Heck, maybe she is even a better actress, though honestly, I think she lacks charisma. I don’t hold it against her that Vikander had hardly anything in common with “my” version of Alice in The Seventh Son – the movie adaptation of Joseph Delaney’s Wardstone Chronicles. But it can be argued that she hardly resembles how most people perceive Lara Croft in general. This is usually then countered by the gamers’ statement that “this Lara Croft is based on the rebooted games”, etc. etc. This one is more “realistic”, “human”, blah-blah-blah. But you know what? I don’t care. I don’t f___g care!

I loved larger-than-life Lara with her four big guns, her cool attitude, humor and cargo pants. I must admit I never played the new games, which were said to be quite grisly, bloody and violent. Honestly, the new Lara, doesn’t knock my socks off at all! And going by both the first reactions (and financial numbers), my feeling is, I’m not the only one seeing things this way. Perhaps the problem started with the new game’s conception (by Square Enix instead of the old Core Design games), to make Lara less a “female combination of James Bond and Indiana Jones” and more some kind of Lisbeth Salander/trauma survivor. Not an approach that meets my approval.

This is not Alicia Vikander’s fault, of course. She plays what she was hired for and does fine in that respect. Doing MMA-training (reminding me of Million Dollar Baby) or biking in London, she probably wins some audience members over, only to be let down by the script, the moment she boards the ship under the guidance of Lu Ren (Wu). He’s tasked with leading her to the last known destination of her father (West): a small island, full of evil white men forcing poor Asian men to do their hard work and open the tomb of – according to legend – an evil empress named Himiko.

Honestly, the MacGuffin of these movies has always been the least interesting aspect for me – that’s why it is a MacGuffin, Hitchcock would say. And it also doesn’t mean much here at all.

But let me step back. The beginning of the movie, the first 20-25 minutes, seemed fine. They built up an interesting character, a Lara who didn’t allow others to see her weakness, and could be saucy, funny, stubborn and nevertheless kind of likable. But after all these London scenes (which include in minor supporting roles, Kristin Scott Thomas and Derek Jacobi – how did he get into the movie?), the film… hmm… How can I say it..? Became less interesting – at this point, I still want to withhold the evil word “boring”. I liked the interaction with Lu, and the big ship-wreck on the coast, which I know is taken directly from the game. But after Lara arrived on the island, the film for the majority of its subsequent running-time, dropped dead for me.

I don’t know how this happened, and don’t really feel inclined to start a detailed analysis here. It may have had to do something with Vikander insisting that main screenwriter Geneva Robertson-Dworet made this a “serious” heroine story. Though it can be said that the new games, have a strictly serious (and even brutal) tone, too. Originally, the script was supposed to be much more jokey and contain quite a bit of humor. By cutting this element out, the movie may actually have bit into its own flesh.

I mean, we all know these old tropes, mainly established by the Indiana Jones movies in the 1980s. Heck, I still remember having seen Part III, to which this movie is surprisingly often compared, in the cinema. So, I think, this genre had its day a long time ago. But it may have been the hokiness and the fact that the stories were so overdone which resulted in these movies being so funny and enjoyable, like Roger Moore’s James Bond movies. The Jolie movies never took themselves completely seriously. Yes, they may have been campy but they were high-class camp. Going all in, as Jolie did with her over-the-top performance, made them entertaining romps of the genre.

This Tomb Raider doesn’t want that. TR 2018 wants to be taken seriously. It wants us to care for a whiny tween-brat who doesn’t sign the inheritance papers after her father has been lost for years, and suddenly decides (ignoring his strict wishes) to go looking for him. This Lara sometimes does things which seem downright dumb to me. But let’s give her the benefit of the doubt, allowing that she is a beginner – though Vikander is already older than Jolie, when she starred in her first Tomb Raider movie!

So, she lands on this island of evil villain Matthias Vogel (Goggins). To my amusement, even in the German version, they pronounce his name how an American/British person would (for those who care, the right pronunciation in German would be Ma-tee-ahhs Foh-gehl). Despite fine acting on Goggins’ part, there’s nothing special about the role. This bad guy has no attitude, nor any real motivation. If they had given him personal reason – say, hoping to resurrect a dead wife with the powers of the dead empress – he could have been a potentially interesting, maybe even tragic, character. I’m speculating here, but my feeling is that in writing the script something may have fallen off the table. It would be nice to discover something – well, anything – more about this character. in deleted scenes on a future DVD.

As it stands, the character is like Orson Krennic in Rogue One: doing his job (for almost a decade?), wanting to leave this damn island and return to his daughters. This is disappointing. Heck, the Jolie-villains at least wanted to be masters of time and space, or annihilate the majority of humankind with a toxin so they could govern over the rest. That is what I call a villain, and may be one of the big shortcomings of this movie. Vogel and his minions are also trying to find Himiko’s grave… because that’s what his employer on the other end of the phone tells him to do. Our Lara escapes into the jungle to execute some urgently needed action-scenes that I’m quite sure are taken directly from the computer game. I give Roar Utaug this: they look good. But somehow they didn’t reach me emotionally, because at no time had I built up any identification with the heroine.

One of the most praised things about the game was the heroine being faced with disgusting creeps, absolutely merciless, killing and abusing people, so that young-Lara could then grab her bow and arrow and play Katniss with them. Here, Lara does some kind of mud-wrestling with a man who is larger and bigger than her, before drowning him in a puddle and screaming while fighting him. I guess the female audience is supposed to cheer her for doing so, relieved that the evil attacker got what he deserved. But, honestly, the scene left me as unenthusiastic as when a young Sean Connery stabbed one of Dr. No’s guards in his kidneys in the swamp. Really, I enjoyed it more when Angelina killed off a dozen well-trained mercenaries, who rudely interrupted her bungee-jumping exercises inside Croft Manor.

Lara than finds her father (West) who is wearing an Alan Quatermain/Sean Connery memorial-outfit – maybe not accidentally? That was the emotional climax for me in the movie, and I got a bit moist-eyed, seeing West in his cave, repeatedly mumbling opposite hurt Lara, “It’s not real, if you don’t pay attention, it will vanish again!” and Vikander’s reactions: that’s acting. The fact that they were able to touch me emotionally here – but only here! – proves they are both good actors, when the script gives them something to work with. I liked him sitting on the beach and her cutting his beard, though have to say I was equally touched in the 2001 movie when Lara met her (dead) father, played by Jolie’s real father, Jon Voight.

I still wonder why Matthias has previously claimed to Lara, that he killed her father. What was the intention behind that? And why did he think it was good she was there? He hardly could expect this young girl would have her father’s expertise. There are some real big plot-holes in the film; the best thing is maybe not to think too much about them, otherwise the whole story might fall apart. Just as unbelievable for me, was that this young woman, who last night had a hard time killing, suddenly takes up her bow and arrow and starts shooting men in the camp right and left. But then, this was one of the big selling points of the 2013 game – albeit taken right from The Hunger Games, n’est-ce pas? ;-)

Then it goes directly into the grave with Lara, Daddy, Matthias and some other unfortunate red-shirts replaying the best parts of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade – only with less originality, suspense and emotional involvement. Honestly, I found this the least interesting part of the movie. I always wonder when reading some great praise for the reboot, if those guys/gals ever saw the original Indys, Tomb Raider 2001 – or at least that Tarzan movie from the late 90s/early 2000s. Because otherwise, I can’t see why anyone at all should think this so great. Really, I don’t understand it; these scenes were yawn-worthy, IMHO. I don’t know the game, but hope it was more exciting there, when we arrive at Himiko’s grave – 

We know how a big final climax should look from the Indy-movies, don’t we? Well, there’s probably something to say about going against expectations… But, you know what? There’s the Rule of Cool, cited by Kim Possible director Steve Loter, which says that you can do something because it’s cool, even though it may not be very logical. The original movies understood that. No matter how cheesy or even stupid you may have found them, there’s no denying the endings of both were cool and visually stimulating climaxes.

This, on the other hand… Himiko has no super-powers: Matthias even shows us a mechanism that lets her dead body sit up. She was the highly infectious “patient zero” for some kind of super-deadly virus, and the movie shows its effect on some of the redshirts. Probably, these scenes are meant to disturb but appear so toned down, we are not the slightest shocked. You want to surprise someone with villains who meet a terrible fate? Watch Raiders of the Lost Ark again. Heck, I’d say, all three of the eighties Indys directed by Spielberg. Roar Uthaug… not so much. I personally would have had Himiko call out a horde of zombies, to flood the island and have the living fight the undead army. And I don’t even like zombies! It would have been a (film-)logical, visually fitting climax; what we get here is far less, and terribly unsatisfying.

That’s something I feel about so many scenes of the movie. The foundations for something (excitement, humor, suspense) are there – but everything is then either seen before in other movies, or diluted to the point it didn’t trigger any emotional response from me. It’s frustrating. The ingredients for a great meal are there and the cook knows his job. But when it’s all put together in the pot and cooked, the dish at the end is very, very average. It’s not tasteless, you definitely can eat it, but it’s nothing special; you have eaten it before and it tasted better at thise other restaurants. In cinematic terms that’s Tomb Raider 2018 for you.

Daddy Croft ends up sacrificing himself and it doesn’t even touch me a one-hundredth of when Sean Connery survived at the end of Indy III. The villain dies a typical Disney death and I couldn’t care less. I knew nothing about him and he was less charismatic (sorry, Mr. Goggins) than the two villains of the Jolie movies. Maybe Paramount should have kept the film rights for Tomb Raider, instead of letting them fall into the hands of Warner/MGM? But the idea of replacing Jolie had been circulating for some time, when she was becoming a little bit difficult too deal with and the second movie didn’t make as much money as the first. And neither will this, even ignoring 17 years of inflation.

The film ends with Lara back in London, finally signing her inheritance papers, in the presence of Jacobi and Scott Thomas, only to find out that “Trinity”, the terrible organization that Matthias worked for, is tied to Croft Holdings. And for anyone who has not been in cinemas for the last 15 years, nor has seen the first Largo Winch movie, the film makes it clear that the voice on Matthias’s telephone belongs to Scott Thomas. Honestly, it should already be well-known that you do not let this woman occupy an executive position in your multinational conglomerate!

Obviously, this is an attempt to launch a new franchise of Lara fighting the evil minions of Trinity, but it remains to be seen if the returns qualify for a sequel. I think they may have been a bit premature and their efforts in vain. It tries to replace the memory of the old Angelina Jolie-led movies by being an adaptation of the successful computer game of 2013, but fails in this respect. Jolie was too iconic, too charismatic for that. My feeling is that she made Lara and Lara made her. Alicia Vikander – for all her good looks, acting talent and admitted charm – can’t hold a candle to her.

The will is there… but not the ability to do it. Yes, it’s nice to see Vikander pulling out a splinter from her stomach. But honestly, seeing Jolie punching sharks is somehow more impressive. Less is more they say, but sometimes over-the-top trumps everything else, I think! There are good actors here doing their jobs, some nice action scenes that are over too quickly, and a bunch of scenes that don’t work the way they should, because they simply don’t have the required little bit extra, that’s always needed.

Dir: Roar Uthaug
Star: Alicia Vikander, Dominic West, Walton Goggins, Daniel Wu