Review of The Witch

Frankly, I'm amazed that The Witch was released in multiplexes around the country. Though it's classified as "horror," it's so far removed from what casual moviegoers expect from the genre that those who walk in hoping for a mainstream experience with plenty of "jump scares" will be disappointed and possibly angry. The Witch is arguably art-house fare, and it will play a lot better to those who accept the slow pace and long game that first-time director Robert Eggers (who won a Best Director award at the 2015 Sundance Film Festival) is playing. The Witch doesn't skimp on food for thought, either. Those who desire anything the least bit intellectual in their horror films (not a ridiculous concept, I assure you) have plenty to savor here, although it takes a little digging and post-screening rumination to uncover the layers.

If not for Oscar heavy-hitter The Revenant, this would be the most atmospheric movie playing in theaters right now. The power of its cinematography and set design speak volumes. Set in the 1630s, The Witch introduces itself as "A New-England Folktale," It begins with a series of startling close-ups of children's faces (a device Eggers frequently uses to great effect) as a family elects to leave their colony and live off the land. They've settled in nicely when strange events start to happen. A baby goes missing, the young son falls ill, and the eldest daughter Thomasin (Anya Taylor-Joy), in part because of a prank she plays on her youngest siblings, becomes the primary suspect of witchcraft. Her father (Ralph Ineson) and mother (Kate Dickie) are unconvinced of her pleas of innocence as the finger-pointing threatens to tear the family apart, Crucible-style.

Eggers delights in toying with his audience's expectations, and he has made a horror film with the patient viewer in mind. The buildup is long and languidly paced. We marvel at the details of the setting and struggle a bit to get used to the Old English dialect. But once the terror inevitably escalates, it's impossible not to be completely absorbed. There's unquestionably something out-of-the-ordinary going on here, but to what ends? And what of the family goat, who the youngest kids call "Black Phillip" and claim he "speaks" to them? And how big a role does the paranoia of the times (the movie is set several decades before the Salem Witch Trials) play in all of this? The answers are there, but they're not spelled out in neon letters.

Linking sex and nudity with menace and death has been a theme in horror going all the way back to John Carpenter's groundbreaking Halloween, and The Witch is no exception. There's a fair amount of nudity in this film, some of it from supernatural apparitions (are they real or hallucinations?) and some of it from the main characters. The family's eldest son, Caleb (Harvey Scrimshaw), is clearly struggling with the growing sexual awareness of adolescence; he (and the camera) stares at his older sister's cleavage on numerous occasions. And then there's the final scene, the specifics of which I leave for you to discover.

A star is born in Anya Taylor-Joy. As Thomasin, the young actress is instantly sympathetic and represents the story's anchor. The transition to womanhood is always replete with challenges, but try experiencing it in these claustrophobic conditions, trapped with a family whose members constantly struggle with crises of faith and conscience. Also very good if occasionally over-the-top are Ralph Ineson and Kate Dickie, both of whom have roles in HBO's "Game of Thrones." Clearly they're right at home in period settings. As we learn throughout the film, none of these characters are completely innocent, but the strength of the acting across the board strengthens our belief in them, warts and all.

I can't stress enough that moviegoers choosing to see The Witch on the promise of an effective trailer and critical raves should understand the kind of movie they're walking into. The movie isn't "scary" in the traditional sense, but it's consistently unsettling and expertly plays the "slow-build" brand of horror. The level of thematic depth the movie offers is both uncommon and very welcome. The strange, haunting final scene will have some scratching their heads wondering what the point is. But the deeper one digs into The Witch, the more fascinating the movie's construction and themes turn out to be.

Rating: ***1/2 (out of ****)

Review of Deadpool

We have officially entered the Year of the Superhero. No fewer than six major motion pictures featuring DC or Marvel characters will reach screens in 2016. For nerds of all things comic books, it's like being on Cloud 9, but will everyone else feel over-saturated? That's a question to be answered much later in the calendar. Right now, we have 20th Century Fox's latest attempt at a franchise (following the mostly successful X-Men series and the utterly disastrous Fantastic Four attempts), and, truth be told, Deadpool doesn't "feel" like every other superhero movie. Sure, it depicts an origin story, but its approach and tone are wildly divergent from anything else in the sub-genre. Not only does it delight in satire and self-reverential humor, but it wallows in graphic violence, f-bombs, sex, and full frontal nudity (of both genders). And its main character couldn't possibly care less about truth, justice, and morality. It's a wild ride, but unlike every other superhero movie ever made, it's not in any way, shape or form suitable for children.  

Deadpool doesn't completely escape the trap of the tired "origin story," but give the filmmakers credit for having fun with the timeframe. The movie begins in present day, where the titular character, aka Wade Wilson (Ryan Reynolds) is on the hunt for the man responsible for mutilating him, a mutant named Ajax (Ed Skrein). Then we flash back to earlier times when Wilson is diagnosed with terminal cancer. When approached by a mysterious organization with an experimental procedure designed to cure him, he takes the leap of faith in order to live happily with his girlfriend (Morena Baccarin). Ajax and his lackey, Angel Dust (Gina Carano), subject Wilson to extreme torture in order to "release" a mutant gene within Wilson, and it both cures his cancer and gives him superhuman abilities. On the flip side, it leaves his whole body scarred. Donning a full-body costume to hide his appearance, Wilson seeks to wipe his two antagonists of the face of the earth. But the X-Men disapprove of his ultra-violent methods and send two of their own, Colossus (Stefan Kapicic) and Negasonic Teenage Warhead (Brianna Hildebrand), to reign him in.

You've seen this entire story before, but you probably haven't seen it in the manner that director Tim Miller elects to take things. The movie is full of snarky, raunchy humor, most of which is successful. Wade Wilson has a wisecrack for every occasion, even to the point where he's aware he's in a movie and takes shots at other Marvel characters and films (for example, when told he's being taken to Professor X: "Which one? Stewart or McAvoy? Ugh, these timelines are so confusing!"). Deadpool also sticks out a giant middle finger at the prospect of a shared, homogenized universe. Could this character and his attitude possibly fit into any other mainstream superhero's world? I don't know and I don't care. The point is to deliver an entertaining experience in the now without waiting for some future project to justify its existence.

If any superhero trope is available, you bet it's fodder for Deadpool to skewer. The opening credits mock everyone in the cast from "A British Villain" to "Directed by Some Asshole." The courtship of Wilson and Vanessa is anything but cute as it depicts a wide variety of sexual kinks. And the title character himself, played with the ideal mix of sarcasm and charm by Ryan Reynolds, never skimps on an opportunity to rip into the pretentiousness with which the X-Men view their "hero" status. The movie never stops winking and wisecracking, and while such a rapid fire rate of jokes guarantees a fair share of clunkers, worry not. When one joke misses, another one is right around the corner to redeem it. Guardians of the Galaxy (unloved by me but adored by many) tried to mix satire with straightforward action, but Deadpool is more successful-- and far more ruthless.

The need for Deadpool to replicate virtually every beat of a standard superhero origin story is a minor annoyance. One senses the inevitable sequel (teased in a post-credit sequence, of course), free from the shackles, will take the character to even greater heights. In fact, the story in general feels small; there's very little at stake outside of the fate of a tiny handful of characters. The villains are adequate and participate in a satisfyingly brutal climax, but they're not especially memorable outside of that. Still, the movie has enough of a heart to make us care about Wilson and Vanessa, and I applaud the filmmakers for taking on a hard-R approach to a familiar project. Deadpool hits the screen not as a cog in a giant toy/comic book marketing bonanza, but as a thoroughly entertaining movie in and of itself.

Rating: *** (out of ****)

Review of Hail, Caesar!

For movie buffs, the release of a Coen Bros. movie might not have the same "juice" as that of, say, Martin Scorsese or Quentin Tarantino, but it's nonetheless something to look forward to every few years. For their latest, the veteran duo has turned back the clock to 1950s Hollywood, a time when the allure of movies was a much bigger deal, long before streaming, high definition, or even home video entered the fray. The Coen's don't have anything particularly compelling to say with this movie; their goal with Hail, Caesar is considerably lighter. They introduce a colorful gallery of individuals who probably aren't too far from real-life movers and shakers in the industry and let them go wild in various vignettes. The movie is unquestionably a comedy, but its full-blown belly laughs are few and far between. Nevertheless, anyone who enjoys the Coens' work should be chuckling and smiling throughout.

Hail, Caesar is an ensemble piece, but to the extent that it contains a main character, that would probably be Capitol Pictures producer Eddie Mannix (Josh Brolin). In the span of just a single day, Eddie navigates one crisis after another. His leading man in the studio's Biblical epic, Baird Whitlock (George Clooney), has been kidnapped by Communist academics who demand a $100,000 ransom. "It" girl Deanna Moran (Scarlett Johansson-- using the same accent she donned in her "chandeliers" SNL sketch) has become pregnant out of wedlock, so the studio must create a cover story to protect her reputation. Respected director Laurence Lorenz (Ralph Fiennes) is about to lose his mind when he's forced to work with cowboy movie idol Hobie Doyle (Alden Ehrenreich) on a serious drama, an acting job the latter is woefully out of his depth to pull off. Meanwhile, gossip columnists Thora and Thessaly Thacker (Tilda Swinton playing both) harass Eddie for exclusive stories while he ponders an offer to leave show business altogether and join Lockheed Martin.

The Coens' approach to all the fictional films within this movie is different from what you might expect. Instead of going for full-blown satire and making everyone look like buffoons, they opt to play these scenes almost straight, the key word being almost. They go for light jabs instead of haymakers. Seeing George Clooney make Charlton Heston-esque speeches and Channing Tatum tap dance like Gene Kelly is a hoot, but that's mainly because we're watching modern stars mimic major tropes from half a century ago. What looks silly today was taken at face value back then. Theses scenes are also a reminder of how amusing and over-the-top a movie can look during its making versus the "wow" effect the finished product can have on viewers. For a scene that hammers home this connection, compare cowboy Doyle's slightly embarrassed reaction to a screening of his latest movie (titled "Lazy Ol' Moon") to the uproarious laughter of everyone in the audience.

Hail, Caesar will certainly entertain fans of the quirky and offbeat. The more you love films from the 50s-60s era of Hollywood, the more details you'll pick up on. Individual scenes are wonderful and occasionally hilarious (like the argument between Eddie, a priest, a rabbi, and minister over how to depict God and Jesus on film, or the stuffy director trying to get the cowboy star to drop his Southern drawl) But if there's anything holding the movie back from upper-echelon Coen Bros., it's the lack of a strong through-story. For a while, it looks like the kidnapping of Whitlock and his experience in captivity will fill that role. Indeed, the concept of a Hollywood star being kidnapped and potentially brainwashed by Communists is a pretty funny one. But the filmmakers don't dedicate enough time to this; it's just one of a series of episodes stitched together into something that almost resembles a variety show.

In contrast to the major studio projects featured in Hail, Caesar, the movie itself debuts modestly during early February. That's not a time when box office hopefuls strike gold, but the Coens have never been about that to begin with. They have a select audience in mind, and their latest movie delivers what that audience expects. The movies-within-the-movie are simultaneously Hail Caesar's greatest strength and weakness. The Coens put so much of their energy into these re-creations (and the great Roger Deakins' crisp cinematography helps immensely here) that viewers will enjoy them on their own terms while at the same time wishing the plot had a little more forward momentum. Still, the overall movie, while at times messy and unfocused, is undeniably entertaining.



Rating: *** (out of ****)