On DVD/Blu-ray: THE HAUNTING IN CONNECTICUT 2: GHOSTS OF GEORGIA (2013) and ESCAPEE (2011) plus bonus Netflix Instant exclusive HOUSE OF BODIES (2013)

THE HAUNTING IN CONNECTICUT 2: GHOSTS OF GEORGIA
(US - 2013)

This geographically confused "sequel" to the forgettable 2009 horror hit was shot in 2010 as A HAUNTING IN GEORGIA and intended to be a sort-of similarly-themed "sister" film to the original.  But Lionsgate, taking a page out of their OPEN WATER 2: ADRIFT book, changed the title to the rather cumbersome THE HAUNTING IN CONNECTICUT 2: GHOSTS OF GEORGIA, finally giving it a limited release in early 2013.  It's an in-name-only sequel and has nothing to do with Connecticut or the events of the first film, instead focusing on an AMITYVILLE HORROR-type situation in Georgia that was profiled on an episode of UNSOLVED MYSTERIES back in the early 1990s.  The Wyrick family--dad Andy (Chad Michael Murray), mom Lisa (Abigail Spencer), and young daughter Heidi (Emily Alyn Lynd), along with Lisa's sister Joyce (Katee Sackhoff), who lives in a trailer near the main house--find out their property was a "station" on the Underground Railroad back in pre-Civil War days.  Lisa and Joyce, both of whom have psychic abilities inherited from their mother that the script introduces and doesn't really explore, realize Heidi shares that gift when she starts seeing the ghost of the previous owner along with visions of two slaves running in the fields, ancestors of kindly old blind lady Mama Kay (an underused Cicely Tyson).  The local preacher (Lance E. Nichols of TREME) comes by to bless the property, and of course all hell breaks loose with a vengeful spirit rising to haunt the family.  There's a few nicely-done bits and things get a little more icky than in the PG-13 original, particularly in a scene with Lynd vomiting a combination of sawdust, cockroaches, and maggots, and another where a character performs what can best be described as "reverse taxidermy" on herself, but the story just gets duller and more confused as it goes along.  This sincere but generally bland film is really no better or worse than its unintentional predecessor, and it's perfectly watchable for horror fans on a really slow night, but other than young Lynd, who has some really terrific facial expressions, there's nothing special here.  (R, 101 mins)

ESCAPEE
(US - 2011)

How idiotic is the stalk-and-slash thriller ESCAPEE?  At one point, two detectives observe a pair of bodies hanging from a tree and after awkwardly standing around for a few seconds, one finally says "So...these are the victims, huh?"  It actually looks like they left in the part before the director yelled "Action!" This blood-and-cliche-drenched Louisiana-shot dud was released on just a couple of screens in Alexandria and Pineville way back in 2011 (it was shot in those two cities) and has only now surfaced on DVD, seemingly forgotten by its distributor.  There's no scares, suspense, or storytelling competence in this lethargic and nonsensical film, filled with illogical detours and red herrings that serve no purpose other than to pad the running time.  Hulking killer Dominic Purcell escapes from a mental institution and makes his way to the home of a college student (Christine Evangelista) he attacked while she was on a research trip to the ward earlier in the day.  While the bodies in the neighborhood pile up, hard-nosed detective Faith Ford (the veteran TV actress also produced; her husband Campion Murphy wrote and directed) has to contend with condescending police chief David Jenson (who gets the mandatory incredulous "One guy...did all of this?!" line when surveying bodies strewn about a crime scene) and wisecracking partner Kadeem Hardison, somehow keeping a straight face while gritting her teeth and answering the question "Can you get inside his head?" with--what else?--"I'm already there."  There's a laughable twist about 20 minutes before the end (when isn't there?), but this was a washout even before that.  Maybe ESCAPEE could've gotten some mileage out of a committed lead performance, but Purcell is just a lumbering bore, which also accurately describes ESCAPEE.  (R, 97 mins)

HOUSE OF BODIES
(US - 2013)

ESCAPEE is a crackerjack thriller compared to this atrocious clusterfuck. HOUSE OF BODIES debuted with zero fanfare this week on Netflix's streaming service.  It didn't play in theaters and there's currently no DVD/Blu-ray release date.  There's no trailer on any web sites and there's no user or external reviews on IMDb, which still lists the film as being in post-production.  Is this film even finished?  Was it put on Netflix streaming accidentally?   While it's not at all unusual to see terrible micro-budgeted horror films with porn-level production values, video-burned credits, and awful acting in the world of DTV and cable, it is noteworthy when one appears out of nowhere and stars three Oscar nominees.  Can anyone explain exactly what Terrence Howard, Queen Latifah, and Peter Fonda are doing in this?  And why did Queen Latifah produce it?  Is the whole thing just some elaborate tax write-off that her accountant devised?  This film is an unwatchable embarrassment even with three accomplished actors who, it should be noted, have little more than cameos and never interact with the main cast.  Has director Alex Merkin done such a great job cleaning Queen Latifah's pool over the years that she agreed to finance his movie, at the same time somehow convincing Howard to spend a day sitting in a room with Fonda?  Certainly the backstory of this steaming bucket of shit is more interesting than anything that made it to the screen.  The flimsy plot has some hot college girls running an online porn chat room in a house formerly owned by a convicted serial killer (Fonda).  When the girls are offed by a copycat, all witnessed by a hearing-impaired teenager (Harry Zittel) via webcam, irate detective Howard visits Fonda to put together a profile.  The film limps along to a yawner of a twist ending (spoiler:  Fonda took the fall for the real killer--his son--who's still on the loose), dragging so badly that even the generous amounts of nudity and splatter accomplish nothing.  Canadian singer/songwriter Alexz Johnson has a cute Young Naomi Watts thing going on as the Final Girl and she at least appears to be trying, while Fonda manages to be somewhat effective just sitting there Hannibal Lecter-style, but even by his "just pay me and I'll do it" standards, this is a humiliating gig.  Queen Latifah has two brief scenes as a chat room friend of Zittel's, probably Skyped in from her living room.  An already brief film ludicrously padded with endless insert shots of hilariously phony newspaper mastheads, HOUSE OF BODIES is an amateur-night fiasco best left unstreamed.  Don't be surprised if this vanishes from Netflix and is never seen anywhere again.  It really is that bad.  (Unrated, 78 mins, currently available only on Netflix streaming)

On DVD/Blu-ray: DETACHMENT (2012), BAIT (2012) and SALVATION BOULEVARD (2011)

DETACHMENT
(US - 2012)

Full-time provocateur and part-time filmmaker Tony Kaye returns with his first released narrative feature since 1998's AMERICAN HISTORY X (his cop thriller BLACK WATER TRANSIT was shot in 2007 but remains shelved in the same production company bankruptcy case that's kept David O. Russell's NAILED unreleased since 2008).  Always more concerned with getting a gut reaction from viewers rather than being a disciplined director (and why does he have to glibly label this "A Tony Kaye Talkie"?), Kaye's DETACHMENT has a lot of ideas and characters to juggle, not always successfully bringing things together, but if a film's biggest crime is that it's too ambitious and tries to accomplish too much, then one can overlook the flaws and occasional pretentiousness and self-indulgence.  Heading a very impressive cast, Adrien Brody stars as a short-term sub in a declining NYC high school that's seen better days.  Haunted by a troubled past that involves his mother's suicide and some deep secrets of his Alzheimer's-stricken grandfather (Louis Zorich), Brody chooses to work as a sub as a means of avoiding extended contact with students and colleagues, providing him with the perfect opportunity to keep his distance and remain detached from everything around him.  Forces beyond his control end up tearing down those walls--an overweight girl (Betty Kaye, the director's daughter), who's bullied at school and at home, starts to feel misplaced affection for him; and he also ends up giving temporary shelter to an underaged prostitute (Sami Gayle) after he witnesses her being assaulted by a creep she just serviced on a bus.

DETACHMENT refers not just to Brody, but also to the teachers, the students, the parents, and the world in general.  Teachers sit in silent classrooms waiting for parents to show up on Parents Night.  No one comes.  Students write "You suck!" on tests, they openly threaten teachers with gang rape, and one even kills a cat in the gym.  Teachers internalize their frustrations or self-medicate.  Communication breaks down, tempers flare, friendships disintegrate, marriages fail.  The world is falling apart and the only feeling anyone can muster is complete and utter apathy.  Kaye and screenwriter Carl Lund clearly make the point that if we want change, it has to start on the ground level in the schools, and everyone has to be an active participant. Kaye too frequently resorts to being Tony Kaye, with zooms and handhelds, and changing film stock for no reason other than showing off, but there's some undeniably strong and powerful scenes throughout.  There's also some nice character turns by James Caan (who's very good here) as a cynical, pill-popping, seen-it-all teacher who can throw the insults right back at the students (handling detention, he tells a student "Wait here, when I get back we can discuss your bright future") and Marcia Gay Harden as the beleaguered principal.  Other familiar faces drift in and out of the story but aren't on screen enough to make a big impact:  Christina Hendricks as an idealistic teacher and potential Brody love interest; Tim Blake Nelson as a ticking timebomb about to go off on his students; Lucy Liu as the burned-out guidance counselor; Blythe Danner (who gets a really nice bit with Caan as they dance in an empty classroom, two longtime co-workers reminiscing about a time when people gave a shit), William Petersen, Bryan Cranston (given very little to do in two brief scenes as Harden's husband), Doug E. Doug, and Isiah "Sheeeeeeeeeeeit!" Whitlock, Jr as an unctuous district hatchet man who tells Harden she's on her way out (points deducted for not letting him do his signature schtick).  Shot in 2010, DETACHMENT only made it to ten screens at its widest US release, grossing just $71,000.  It's a bit of a rambling mess on occasion, but as one has come to expect from Kaye (whose 2006 documentary LAKE OF FIRE dealt with the abortion debate), it's raw and uncompromising, and when it works (which is most of the time), it works very well.  (R, 98 mins; also streaming on Netflix)


BAIT
(Australia/Singapore - 2012)

If anyone was still talking about SNAKES ON A PLANE, this would-be high-concept thriller could've easily sported the title SHARKS IN A SUPERMARKET.  Anchor Bay acquired this shot-in-3D Australian shark flick and actually released it in a scant few theaters this past weekend (just a couple of days before its DVD/Blu-ray release) instead of where it really belonged:  on SyFy at 9:00 pm last Saturday night.  Taking itself far too seriously for a film with such vapid characters and terrible special effects, BAIT puts a bunch of unlikable assholes--including NIP/TUCK's Julian McMahon as a criminal who was in the middle of an armed robbery--in a supermarket as a tsunami hits and they find themselves trapped with a great white shark swimming through the submerged store aisles, periodically leaping out of the water to devour someone.  And of course, the hero (Xavier Samuel) is still traumatized by watching his best friend get eaten by a shark a year earlier.  This does lead to a rather amusing scene of Samuel doing the Roy Scheider "Everybody out of the water!" freakout from atop the freezers in the frozen section.  Director Kimble Rendall logged some time as second unit director on films like the MATRIX sequels and he directed the 2000 Australian slasher film CUT with Molly Ringwald and Kylie Minogue, but before any of that, he was a founding member and bassist for Australian cult rockers Hoodoo Gurus (Rendall also performs a gothy, Tiamat-tinged cover of "Mack the Knife" that's played over the closing credits).  BAIT inexplicably sports six (!) credited writers, including co-producer and HIGHLANDER director Russell Mulcahy.  Watchable but stupid (there's a cop and two other guys with guns--no one ever tries shooting the shark?) and kinda boring, BAIT is still better than the useless SHARK NIGHT, though if you're looking for recent shark thriller that's solidly-done and has Australian accents, you're better off checking out THE REEF. (R, 93 mins)


SALVATION BOULEVARD
(US/Australia - 2011)

Shot in Ann Arbor, MI, the megachurch satire SALVATION BOULEVARD strands a cast of several Oscar winners and nominees in a meandering, pointless story that just registers zero across the board.  Even if it mustered the courage to be nothing more than smug and condescending, it would be something.  But instead, it's just...there, wasting the time of everyone from the cast down to the viewer.  You can tell there's a Coen Bros.-type story lurking somewhere in this mess, but it just never materializes.  When Rev. Dan Day (a woefully miscast Pierce Brosnan, in probably the worst performance of his career), the beloved leader of a community megachurch, accidentally shoots atheist Prof. Blaylock (Ed Harris) in the head, he tries to stage it as a suicide attempt before pinning it on hapless doofus Carl (Greg Kinnear), a former Deadhead who abandoned his debauched, sex/drugs/rock n' roll lifestyle to marry the devoutly Christian Gwen (Jennifer Connelly).  While Blaylock languishes in a coma, Carl gets abducted by a Mexican drug lord (Yul Vazquez) who's trying to strong-arm Rev. Day over a land deal.  Who gives a shit?   Brosnan and Kinnear fail to replicate the magic of THE MATADOR from several years ago (Brosnan should've gotten an Oscar nomination for that), but also lost in the wreckage are Marisa Tomei as a stoner campus security official, Ciarin Hinds as Carl's cranky father-in-law, Isabelle Fuhrmann as Carl's stepdaughter, and Jim Gaffigan as one of Rev. Day's flunkies.  There are nothing but solid pros in this cast and you know the material's sporting a toe tag if they can't do anything with it. There's no mystery at all why this was buried and released on DVD with no fanfare 14 months after a four-screen theatrical release, seemingly forgotten by its own distributor.  A total misfire. (R, 96 mins)

New on DVD/Blu-ray: HERE (2012) and THE FLOWERS OF WAR (2011)

HERE
(US/Germany/The Netherlands/France/Armenia/Japan - 2012)

Documentary filmmaker and music video director Braden King makes his first scripted feature with HERE, which is equal parts travelogue, introspective road film, and GOOGLE EARTH: THE MOVIE.  Filmed in 2009, HERE is very deliberately paced (probably too slow for some), but quite captivating, with some breathtaking cinematography as cartographer Will Shepard (Ben Foster) travels throughout Armenia on a contractual job marking coordinates and putting together a map for a satellite mapping company.  He befriends Armenian photographer Gadarene (Lubna Azabal of INCENDIES), who's just back from an extended stay in Paris, much to the disapproval of her traditional family.  Will decides to take Gadarene along as her photographic skills could prove helpful.  King co-wrote the script with Dani Valent, and it often resorts to facile metaphors (maps, roads, journeys, finding yourself, etc), but is also a powerful film about culture, tradition, and communication.  And, of course, existential pondering (Will, explaining his passion for maps: "I wanted to see how far I could go before getting lost").  We don't learn much about Will--only that he's a loner and letting someone tag along, much less reluctantly allowing himself to fall in love, is out of character. Only at the very end do we see the effect that Will's time with Gadarene and her family and friends and in her country has had on him.  There's a scene where Will is left alone with the husband (Hovak Galoyan) of one of Gadarene's friends, and the two don't understand one another's language, but bond over shots of strong Armenian vodka and each teaches the other how to say "friend" in their language.  It's a wonderful scene that's beautifully and naturally played by Foster and Galoyan.  There's lots of little moments like that throughout HERE.  With its somewhat Ry Cooder-ish minimalist score and long scenes of driving or hiking through desolate areas, King establishes a vintage Wim Wenders mood with HERE.  Some will find this boring and pretentious and admittedly, one has to be in the mood for it, but HERE is a quietly powerful and richly rewarding film. (Unrated, 126 mins)


THE FLOWERS OF WAR
(China - 2011)

Chinese filmmaker Zhang Yimou has amassed a long list of revered films over his illustrious career: JU DOU (1990), RAISE THE RED LANTERN (1991), TO LIVE (1994), SHANGHAI TRIAD (1995), HERO (2002), HOUSE OF FLYING DAGGERS (2004), CURSE OF THE GOLDEN FLOWER (2006), and a few others.  I guess every great auteur has an off-day, but Zhang shits the bed with THE FLOWERS OF WAR, a tone-deaf and appallingly misguided drama set during the horrific Rape of Nanking in 1937.  Budgeted at the US equivalent of $95 million, it currently ranks as China's most expensive film, and was the country's top-grossing release of 2011.  It didn't fare as well in the US, topping out at $300,000 on just 30 screens, generating almost no interest despite the presence of Christian Bale.  Based on Yan Geling's novel 13 Flowers of Nanjing, THE FLOWERS OF WAR concerns a group of teenage girls in a convent who take refuge in a Catholic church during the attack by Japanese soldiers.  They're joined by John Miller (Bale), an American mortician/drunkard/con man who's there to bury the Catholic priest who recently died.  They're soon joined by several prostitutes, and Miller finds himself in the position of pretending to be the new priest in order to protect everyone, as the Japanese soldiers won't attack the sacred ground of a church.  What could've been a compelling story is bogged down by an overstylized look that shouldn't even be used for a serious period drama, even if it is a fictional story taking place during a real event.  Presenting the atrocities in a brutal and accurate fashion is appropriate, but Zhang inexplicably opts for slo-mo bullet blasts and garish, tasteless CGI splatter, with a couple instances of arterial spray that seem like he's paying homage to RIKI-OH.  The film was shot entirely on sets, including the exteriors, so many of the buildings seen in "exterior" shots look completely cartoonish and have an almost graphic novel artifice that's more fitting for SUCKER PUNCH than an ostensibly sincere film set during one of the most painful periods in China's history.  The stunt casting of Bale is clearly a marketing decision, and he's one of the film's biggest problems.  Bale is a great actor, and for one so renowned for disappearing into his characters, he never stops being "Christian Bale" here, and never seems like he's in the same film as his co-stars.  It's his worst performance since HARSH TIMES, but THE FLOWERS OF WAR isn't his fault. Overlong, overwrought, and utterly pointless considering the much better fact-based films that deal with the Nanking Massacre (THE CHILDREN OF HUANG SHI, CITY OF LIFE AND DEATH), THE FLOWERS OF WAR is a shocking misfire for a filmmaker of Zhang's caliber. (R, 142 mins)

New on DVD/Blu-ray, Special "Dumped By Their Distributor" Edition: MARGARET (2011) and BEING FLYNN (2012)

MARGARET
(US - 2011)

Kenneth Lonergan's follow-up to his acclaimed 2000 breakthrough YOU CAN COUNT ON ME wasn't supposed to take a Kubrickian amount of time to get released.  Filmed in 2005, MARGARET trickled onto 14 screens in the fall of 2011 after a nightmarish six-year post-production that saw two of the film's producers pass away (Anthony Minghella and Sydney Pollack both died in 2008), and multiple lawsuits going back and forth between Fox Searchlight, producers, and Lonergan.  When the film missed its projected release dates in 2006 and 2007, word spread that Lonergan couldn't finish the film.  Lonergan's eventual cut ran a bit over three hours and the studio refused to release it, demanding that it be cut to no more than 150 minutes, and pulling the plug on Lonergan's funding (the director reportedly borrowed money from co-star Matthew Broderick to continue editing his cut). Finally, Lonergan's friend Martin Scorsese and his editor Thelma Schoonmaker assembled the theatrically-released version, which comes in at exactly 150 minutes and was reluctantly approved by Lonergan.

So, was MARGARET worth the wait?  Not really, though some declared it a masterpiece.  It's too ambitious and grandiose to just disregard, but it's overwritten, melodramatic, cumbersome, and maddeningly self-indulgent, no matter how remarkable it is at times.  In an unforgettable scene, NYC teenager Lisa (Anna Paquin) witnesses a horrifying accident where a bus runs a red light and drives over a pedestrian (Allison Janney), who has both legs torn off and bleeds to death before the ambulance arrives.  But the thing is, Lisa tells the police that the light was green and doesn't tell them that she was distracting the driver (Mark Ruffalo) by banging on the door as the bus was moving because she wanted to know where he bought his cowboy hat.  Lisa's guilt over this tragedy is too much for her to handle or properly articulate, so she starts acting out.  First by breaking the heart of a classmate (John Gallagher, Jr) and immediately sleeping with a total tool (Kieran Culkin).  She also gets into constant arguments with her stage actress mother (J. Smith-Cameron, Lonergan's wife), and joins forces with the dead woman's best friend (Jeannie Berlin) to launch a haphazardly-conceived civil suit against the city and get Ruffalo fired.  Oh, but there's more.  Much more, with numerous characters drifting in and out of the story with little or no purpose.  Jean Reno plays a cultured Colombian widower romancing Lisa's mother, and he has absolutely nothing to do other than be a laborious set-up for a minor point to be made of one of Lonergan's numerous aimless tangents (believe it or not, the film works in everything from 9/11 to the Israeli-Palestine conflict to a cameo by opera star Renee Fleming as herself).  Broderick plays a square English teacher who exists in the film only to read the poem from which the film gets its title, and to oddly sip orange juice through a tiny straw while losing patience with an argumentative student during a Shakespeare lecture.  Matt Damon plays a math teacher with whom Lisa constantly flirts.  A very young-looking, pre-JUNO Olivia Thirlby plays a classmate of Lisa's, and Lonergan himself plays Lisa's father.  More than anything, MARGARET looks like an unfinished film that just got away from its maker, who obviously felt that everything he shot was too precious to cut.  Even in the Scorsese-supervised edit, scenes either go on past the point of necessity or they're cut too soon.  In the scene where Paquin and Berlin have lunch with lawyer Michael Ealy, watch how Ealy looks up from the table and has a shocked expression on his face--he's about to open his mouth, and...cut to next scene.  It seems like something potentially important was about to happen.  It's a very long, arduous haul for a film whose point seems to be "teenagers are overly dramatic about some things," though Berlin (who's quite good) does get a fantastic zinger when she yells at Paquin, "We are not supporting characters in the fascinating story of your life!"  Lonergan ends this rambling yet hypnotic mess of a film with a very powerful scene, but it still doesn't change the fact that Lisa spent the last two hours behaving like a sociopath.  The DVD/Blu-ray combo pack, currently sold exclusively by Amazon.com, gives you the choice of the 150-minute theatrical version and Lonergan's 186-minute director's cut.  As of now, Netflix isn't carrying either version, but the theatrical cut is available on some VOD services.  (R, 150 mins, theatrical version)

BEING FLYNN
(US - 2012)

Focus Features didn't really know how to sell BEING FLYNN.  Trailers made it look lighthearted and vaguely comedic, when in fact, it's often devastating and sad.  Perhaps they would've been better off sticking with the title of Nick Flynn's memoir on which the film is based: Another Bullshit Night in Suck City.  The film ultimately made it to 88 screens at its widest release, grossing around $540,000.  With two narrators, one of whom is at best unreliable and neither of whom are particularly appealing, BEING FLYNN is a tough sell and a difficult film to warm to, but it's got a pair of outstanding performances and is emotional in a very real way, without being cloying and manipulative or caving to maudlin sentimentality.  Nick (Paul Dano) is an aimless and jobless would-be writer in NYC.  He gets a job at a homeless shelter and reluctantly renews his relationship with his long-absent ex-con father Jonathan (Robert De Niro), an alcoholic, delusional, irresponsible, self-absorbed, racist, homophobic, and possibly schizophrenic part-time cab driver and full-time bullshit artist who's convinced he's a great American literary talent.  After being evicted for assaulting a neighbor and losing his cab after a DUI, Jonathan begins staying at the homeless shelter and, as is his way, eventually gets himself kicked out.  Nick, meanwhile, still has unresolved issues over the suicide of his mother (Julianne Moore in flashbacks), who raised him alone and did her best while working two jobs, and starts falling deep into hard drugs.  De Niro and Dano are both superb in difficult roles where neither of them are particulary likable, and screenwriter/director Paul Weitz (atoning, along with De Niro, for the sins of LITTLE FOCKERS) does an excellent job with structuring the film to play like a visual memoir via alternating narration and interesting editing and directorial choices.  It's a fairly standard story when stripped to its basics (father and son coming to terms with the past and the flawed, damaged men they've both become), but it strives to be something more, and for the most part, it succeeds.  And it's terrific unseen De Niro performance to go along with STONE, another film that was completely mishandled by its distributor.  Also with Olivia Thirlby, Lili Taylor, Victor Rasuk, and Wes Studi.  (R, 102 mins)

On DVD/Blu-ray: MACHINE GUN PREACHER (2011) and SOME GUY WHO KILLS PEOPLE (2012)

MACHINE GUN PREACHER
(US - 2011)

Gerard Butler delivers a committed, convincing performance in this noble but overly Cliffs Notesy biopic of Sam Childers, an ex-con biker and drug dealer from Pennsylvania who found God, turned his life around, and worked to provide food, shelter, and clothing for Sudanese orphans living under the threat of warlord Joseph Kony's Lord's Resistance Army.  Based on Childers' book, the film glosses over a lot of material and skips ahead with no real regard for a time element (other than Childers' young daughter suddenly played by a different actress who looks like she's 15, but still needs to be tucked in and have a story read to her before bed).  Childers is introduced getting out of prison, being a general asshole to his born-again, ex-stripper wife Lynn (Michelle Monaghan) and storming out of their trailer to shoot heroin with his junkie buddy Donnie (Michael Shannon).  Childers turns his life over to God after mistakenly thinking he's murdered someone, and becomes aware of the plight of the Sudanese kids during a church trip to build houses in Uganda.  His commitment to the children becomes his top priority, investing everything he has, including his construction business, into funding their needs.  And of course, this causes friction back home with the patient Lynn and his daughter ("You care more about those little black kids than you do about me!").  Despite the many contrivances, MACHINE GUN PREACHER generally works thanks to Butler, and when the film stays focused on how a very bad man can be redeemed, it's quite good.  It loses a little credibility when director Marc Forster (MONSTER'S BALL, QUANTUM OF SOLACE) occasionally depicts Childers as a fearless, Rambo-esque killing machine, and it suffers from a frustratingly weak ending, but even with its flaws, it's a powerful story with numerous moving moments (Childers presenting the kids with a playground, for instance). 

Budgeted at $30 million, MACHINE GUN PREACHER was on 93 screens at its widest release last fall, and grossed just $530,000.  Perhaps the film could've gained some renewed interest in March 2012 with "Kony 2012," had that viral YouTube sensation not immediately been associated with its creator having a meltdown, stripping nude, and jerking off at a streetcorner.  (R, 129 mins)


SOME GUY WHO KILLS PEOPLE
(US - 2012)

This horror comedy gets off to a promising start with some twisted humor and over-the-top splatter reminiscent of early Sam Raimi or Peter Jackson.  Unfortunately, it quickly loses its focus and vacillates between being a gore spoof, a live-action comic book, a revenge thriller, and a maudlin feel-good movie, and ultimately succeeds at none of them.  A well-cast Kevin Corrigan is Ken Boyd, recently released from a mental institution after a failed suicide attempt.  He works in an ice-cream shop with his friend Irv (former Larry Clark regular Leo Fitzpatrick) and lives with his chain-smoking, harridan mother Ruth (Karen Black).  Ken's problems stem from a horrific high-school bullying incident at the hands of the basketball team, and soon, members of that team start turning up dead in a variety of amusingly grisly ways. At the same time, Ken cautiously begins dating Stephanie (Lucy Davis of SHAUN OF THE DEAD and the UK version of THE OFFICE) and starts spending time with his 11-year-old daughter Amy (Ariel Gade, best known as Jennifer Connelly's daughter in 2005's DARK WATER), who only recently became aware of his existence.  Despite some nice work by the cast, writer Ryan Levin (the Disney Channel series I'M IN THE BAND) and director Jack Perez (MEGA SHARK VS. GIANT OCTOPUS) really struggle to find a tone here and it's detrimental to the whole project.  It's nice to see veteran character actor Corrigan (usually cast as dumb criminals or dim-witted sidekicks) in a rare leading role, Gade is very charming (when told by Black's Ruth "Call me Ruth...Grandma makes me sound old," she deadpans "So does Ruth"), and Barry Bostwick gets some laughs as the folksy, boozing sheriff, but it's just very directionless and filled with missed opportunities, set-ups that go nowhere, and an obligatory dumb twist ending. Perhaps executive producer John Landis, an expert at effectively fusing horror and comedy (AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON), should've directed.  Also with Lindsay Hollister (BLUBBERELLA), Laura Kightlinger, and Ahmed "Jar Jar Binks" Best as the useless mayor. (R, 98 mins)

New on DVD/Blu-ray: BULLHEAD (2011) and GOON (2012)

BULLHEAD
(Belgium/The Netherlands - 2011)

This Oscar-nominee for Best Foreign Language Film is a riveting drama with an astonishing lead performance by Belgian actor Matthias Schoenaerts, who gained 60 lbs. of muscle to play Flemish thug Jacky Vanmarsenille.  Jacky's family runs the top cattle farm in their region, breeding cows with all manner of added hormones and steroids obtained in their shady business deals with the local "hormone mafia." Jacky has been abusing these hormone drugs for years, which explains his bulked-up appearance (which Schoenaerts achieved naturally), but addiction to growth hormones is only one problem on his plate.  A cop has been found murdered and the police are slowly building a case against the Vanmersenilles with the help of informant Diederik Maes (Jeroen Perceval), a childhood friend of Jacky's and a witness, shown in an extended flashback, to a traumatic assault he suffered at the hands of young Bruno Schepers (David Murgia), the son of a rival farming family.  Jacky also tries to romantically pursue Bruno's sister Lucia (Jeanne Dandoy), who runs a small perfume shop.  As played by Schoenaerts, Jacky is initially unappealing, violent, and completely antisocial (he's often compared to an animal, especially in the way he intimidates others by approaching them and butting heads very much like a bull).  But Schoenaerts and writer/director Michael R. Roskam slowly reveal layers of Jacky's personality and his inner torment to present a truly tragic figure whose life was derailed by one horrific moment in his childhood that still affects him every moment of every day.  Roskam's film is densely plotted and doesn't wrap everything up in a tidy fashion (we can conclude from Jacky's visit brief visit with an adult Bruno--who's not quite the same person he was as a teenager--that Jacky enacted some kind of revenge, but when and how are never explained) but it falls a little short when it comes to the handling of Lucia.  Perhaps Roskam is being deliberately ambiguous in the presentation of this platonic relationship, but it's hard to tell if Lucia recognizes Jacky or not.    It's not credible either way, but plausibility be damned, Roskam needs Lucia to drive Jacky down the path he takes.  Other than this shaky bit of plot convenience, BULLHEAD is a gut-wrenching, powerful character study of tragedy, masculinity, and the often-frayed bonds of friendship that stays with you long after it's over.  (R, 129 mins)


GOON
(Canada - 2012)

This dark, foul-mouthed, blood-splattered Canadian hockey comedy draws obvious comparisons to the 1977 classic SLAP SHOT.  While it's not quite on that level in terms of quality, there's a surprising depth and character to GOON that you wouldn't think is there based on the slapsticky advertising and the presence of Seann William Scott.  Scott really dials down his AMERICAN PIE/Stifler persona to play Doug Glatt, a nice, earnest, not-very-bright Massachusetts bar bouncer who only lucks into a spot with the minor-league Halifax Highlanders not because he's good at hockey (he's not), but because he's good at beating the shit out of people.  Director Michael Dowse and writers Jay Baruchel (who also appears as Doug's buddy, the host of a web-based hockey talk show) and Evan Goldberg (who co-wrote SUPERBAD and PINEAPPLE EXPRESS), working from Adam Frattasio & Douglas Smith's book (Glatt is based on Smith), do a very good job of conveying the unglamourous, blue-collar life of minor-league hockey and present it in a much more drab, realistic fashion than you'd think.  There's no Hanson Brothers wackiness here.  Even with all the laughs, GOON still comes off as gritty and real, and Scott's performance is a bit of a revelation.  He's generally not been one to play moody, introspective, and well-meaning-but-kinda-dumb, and he demonstrates range that he's never before shown. Solid work by the supporting cast, including Liev Schreiber as Ross "The Boss" Rhea, a legendary badass St. John's Shamrocks enforcer who's close to retirement, Kim Coates as the irate Highlanders coach, Alison Pill as Doug's possible girlfriend ("You make me want to stop sleeping around with a bunch of guys," she tells him), and Eugene Levy, serious and not befuddled as Doug's disapproving father.  Also with one-time Cronenberg regular Nicholas Campbell, Marc-Andre Grondin, and a training montage set to Rush's "Working Man."  GOON is one of those small, under-the-radar sleepers that don't take very long to become a word-of-mouth cult item.  Highly recommended. (R, 92 mins, also streaming on Netflix)

New on DVD/Blu-ray: WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN (2011) and CORIOLANUS (2011)

WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN
(UK/US, 2011)

Director Lynne Ramsay's first feature since since 2002's acclaimed MORVERN CALLAR is a difficult, demanding, profoundly depressing look at familial dysfunction taken to tragic extremes.  Working from an epistolary novel by Lionel Shriver, Ramsay and co-writer Rory Stewart Kinnear restructure the film into a more fragmented, Innaratu-esque stream-of-consciousness format that can be frustrating in the early going but every scene and every detail are vital by the end.  Even an archery target board in the distant background of one shot carries incredible significance by the end.  Travel writer Eva Khachadourian (Tilda Swinton) is unable to connect with sullen, antagonistic, and possibly evil teenage son Kevin (Ezra Miller).  He's the kind of kid who plants a virus on her computer and, when caught masturbating by his mom, just glares and smirks at her and starts jerking faster.  And that's just the harmless stuff.  We can piece together the basics fairly quickly: something unspeakable has happened. Kevin is in jail, Eva has become the town pariah, and her husband Franklin (John C. Reilly) and young daughter Celia (Ashley Gerasimovich) are out of the picture. The once well-to-do Eva now lives alone in a small house that gets vandalized regularly.  Ordinary people walk up to her outside the supermarket, belt her across the face and tell her to burn in hell.  The only person we see who's nice to her is a teenager in a wheelchair who affectionately calls her "Mrs. K," asks how she's doing, and mentions there's a possibility he'll walk again.  Ramsay cuts between the past and the present as we witness the difficult relationship between Eva and Kevin, going all the way back to his infancy. 

To say anything more would risk spoilers, but even when you think you've got the story figured out, you don't.  Shriver's novel was written in the form of letters from Eva to Franklin, and readers only get her (possibly unreliable) take on the events.  The film doesn't have that literary luxury, but there's enough here to illustrate that Kevin is more like his mother than Eva wishes to believe, or at least representative of her worst traits gone unchecked.  Kevin is unquestionably a horrible, monstrous human being, but to what extent is Eva culpable for what he is?  She's the only person who sees the "real" Kevin, who certainly doesn't make himself known to his well-meaning but (perhaps purposely) clueless dad.  Swinton, Reilly, and Miller are superb in this emotionally exhausting work that deserved more attention than it got, but admittedly, is a pretty tough sell and offers no easy answers.  One of 2011's best films. (R, 112 mins)



CORIOLANUS
(Serbia/UK/US, 2011)

Ralph Fiennes directs and stars in this ambitious contemporary adaptation of the Shakespeare tragedy, shot in some war-ravaged areas in Belgrade and other parts of Serbia.  It was a longtime pet project of the two-time Oscar nominee and first-time director, who saw his labor of love acquired by The Weinstein Company only to get lost in their end-of-the-year Oscar shuffle with THE ARTIST, THE IRON LADY, and MY WEEK WITH MARILYN.  Briefly considered for a big Weinstein Oscar push, CORIOLANUS was ultimately the child left behind, ending up on just 21 screens at its widest release and grossing around $750,000, despite overwhelmingly positive reviews from those who managed to see it.  Set in "A place calling itself Rome," CORIOLANUS focuses on General Caius Martius (Fiennes), a highly-revered war hero who has just defeated the Volscian forces of General Tullis Aufidius (Gerard Butler).  Prodded by his mother Volumnia (Vanessa Redgrave) and opportunistic Senator Menenius (Brian Cox) to enter politics, the arrogant Martius proves to have nothing but contempt for the common people ("Bid them wash their faces and keep their teeth clean").  He's been conditioned to know nothing but war and has little respect for those who haven't fought for their country.  A pair of tribunes, Sicinius (James Nesbitt) and Brutus (Paul Jesson) turn the people against Martius, who is branded a traitor and banished after lashing out against them.  Forced out of "Rome," Martius, previously bestowed the honorary name Coriolanus, makes his way to the Volscian stronghold of Aufidius and proposes that they set aside their personal differences and launch an attack on Rome.  Coriolanus' anger and need for vengeance knows no bounds, and even Menenius remarks "There is no more mercy in him than there is milk in a male tiger."

CORIOLANUS covers a lot of ground in two hours, but Fiennes and prolific screenwriter John Logan (RANGO, HUGO, and the upcoming SKYFALL and LINCOLN) do a brilliant job of conveying important exposition by displaying it in the form of "Breaking News!" alerts on a ubiquitous 24-hour cable news network (it seems there's a TV on in every room).  Fiennes is keenly aware of how the themes of Shakespeare's play are relevant to today's political situation, particularly in the way the politicians, both conservative and liberal, manipulate the gullible populace and put their own interests above the people they represent.  Ultimately, the modernized CORIOLANUS is a dead-on allegory for the politics of today, proving that things really haven't changed.  Brutal, unflinching, and deeply cynical, CORIOLANUS is gripping throughout, with a terrific performance by Fiennes (his "I banish you!" outburst is a career highlight), who gets strong support from Butler (who seems to be making a sincere effort to stop being in so many terrible Hollywood movies), Cox, Jessica Chastain (as Martius' wife), and Redgrave, who really does some Oscar-caliber work here.  Like WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN, this is a bold, challenging film and it deserved better treatment by the Weinstein Company.  (R, 123 mins)

New on Netflix Streaming: THE HEIR APPARENT: LARGO WINCH (2008) and KING OF DEVIL'S ISLAND (2010)

THE HEIR APPARENT: LARGO WINCH
(France/Belgium, 2008; US release 2011)

Based on a series of popular Belgian comic books and graphic novels, LARGO WINCH ("THE HEIR APPARENT" was added by US distributor Music Box) was a hit in Europe, but took three years to get a limited US release.  It drew comparisons to early 007 films, but it really feels more like what might happen if the Bond films focused less on action and thrills and more on meetings in M's office and the behind-the-scenes stuff at Universal Exports.  With a globetrotting plot that eventually crosses over into the incomprehensible, LARGO WINCH focuses on the titular hero (the bland Tomer Sisley), the adopted son of recently-murdered billionaire industrialist Nerio Winch (Miki Manojlovic).  At the time of his father's murder, Largo, estranged from the old man and traveling around the world, is being imprisoned in Brazil after mystery woman Lea (Melanie Thierry) plants drugs on him.  Busting out of jail and making his way back to the Winch headquarters in Hong Kong, Largo gets embroiled in all manner of corporate espionage and an attempted takeover by his father's nefarious rival Korsky (Karel Roden).  Most of the rest of the film deals with endless blathering about shares, files, accounts, debts, and Hong Kong.  Once in a while, there's an action scene or a stunning aerial shot of Hong Kong to keep you awake.  Despite game effort from a qualified supporting cast (including Kristin Scott Thomas, Benedict Wong, Anne Consigny, Steven Waddington, and the awesomely-named Wolfgang Pissors), and an admittedly spectacular climactic rooftop fight sequence, the film moves along at a snail's pace, and much of the blame lies with Sisley, suffering from a severe charisma deficiency in the starring role.  Looking like a more toned Sacha Baron Cohen, Sisley does his own stunts (though who knows why he's being chased?), but elsewhere registers zero regardless of what language he's speaking (the film is split about 50/50 in French and English).  A movie like this lives or dies with its star, and Sisley, going for cool but coming off catatonic, is either miscast or just bored when he's not in motion.  And on top of that, what the hell kind of thriller ends with a slow-clapping scene?  Sisley returned for 2011's THE BURMA CONSPIRACY: LARGO WINCH II, which co-stars Sharon Stone, but has yet to secure US distribution. (Unrated, 109 mins)


KING OF DEVIL'S ISLAND
(Norway/Poland/France/Sweden, 2010; US release 2011)

Based on a true story, KING OF DEVIL'S ISLAND is a frequently harrowing look at the events leading up to the 1915 rebellion of the so-called "Bastoy Boys" at the Bastoy Island boys reform school, off the coast of Norway.  What's here isn't really anything new, and director Marius Holst lets it drag on a bit long and lays the Moby Dick analogies on a little too thick, but overall, it's very well-acted and beautifully shot.  When Erling (Benjamin Helstad) arrives at Bastoy amidst talk that he killed someone, it doesn't take long for him to establish his bona fides as the school's resident rebel.  He forms an uneasy alliance with Olav (Trond Nilsson), who's been installed as the group leader by Bastoy head Governor Bestyreren (Stellan Skarsgard), who lives in a very ornate house on the other side of the island with his young wife (Ellen Dorrit Petersen).  Olav is due to be released soon and has grown accustomed to looking the other way at assorted injustices and cruelties, but it's Olav who tries to tell the Governor about his top aide, housefather Brathen (Kristoffer Joner) being a pedophile who regularly molests slow-witted Ivar (Magnus Langlete) in the laundry room.  For his own reasons, the Governor sweeps Olav's accusations under the rug, and a final tragedy involving Ivar, which finally prompts the boys to rally behind Erling and Olav and revolt.  Skarsgard's Governor is a fascinating character who, despite his stern and unbending manner, feels a duty to rehabilitate the boys and doesn't believe in the cruelty practiced by his underlings.  He's torn about doing nothing about Brathen, but in doing so, puts his own interests ahead of the boys.  Holst doesn't keep the momentum going all the way up to the very end and it occasionally succumbs to cliche and familiarity (a lot of it recalls THE MAGDELENE SISTERS), but KING OF DEVIL'S ISLAND goes far on the performances of Skarsgard, Joner, Helstad, and Nilsson. (Unrated, 116 mins)

New on DVD/Blu-ray: CERTIFIED COPY (2010); BEYOND (2012); CONTRABAND (2012)

CERTIFIED COPY
(France/Italy/Belgium, 2010; US release 2011)

Iranian auteur Abbas Kiarostami's first film outside his homeland garnered much critical acclaim and has been released by Criterion, but I'm not feeling the magic. In Italy, an antique shop owner (Juliette Binoche) attends a lecture given by British art historian James (opera singer William Shimell, in a role originally intended for Robert De Niro).  Much to her surprise, he agrees to spend a leisurely Sunday afternoon with her before catching his train that evening.  They drive to a small village and discuss art, culture, philosophy, and life, and when a cafe server mistakes James for her husband at about the 50-minute point, they decide to roll with it.  For the remaining hour of the film, they role-play as a couple celebrating 15 years of marriage.  So, much like their art talk of the value of "real" vs "copy," we're meant to question which of these halves is accurate:  are they strangers spending the day together or are they a married couple at a crossroads, and the first half was role-playing?   If there are any answers, Kiarostami's not interested in them.  Instead we get a lot of facile symbolism involving mirrors, windows, and reflective surfaces (oooh..."real" vs "copy"...the duality!).  Binoche's character has a young son who exits the film early on--is this their son and is he even real?  Looking back, no one other than James seems to see him or acknowledge him. Are she and James a couple who drifted apart after an overwhelming tragedy?  Who knows?   They pontificate on art, emotions, meaning, memory, reality, but assuming for a moment that they really are strangers, are we to believe that a world-renowned figure like James would play along with this woman who would seem to grow increasingly unhinged over the afternoon?   This drew a lot of comparisons to BEFORE SUNRISE and BEFORE SUNSET, but honestly, as bizarre as the "they're strangers" side of it is, it wouldn't take much tweaking to turn it into a riff on MISERY.  And hey, I know if I had a chance to spend an afternoon with one of my favorite writers, I'd expect them to indulge me and role play so I can work through my psychological hang-ups and foibles.  CERTIFIED COPY is pompous, pretentious bullshit.  (Unrated, running time: endless)


BEYOND
(US, 2012)

It's nice to see Jon Voight in a lead role again, but aside from his presence, there's not much to recommend about the bland, boring BEYOND.  A kidnapping thriller with supernatural overtones, BEYOND casts Voight as a veteran Alaska detective who's the go-to guy for missing children cases.  Nearing retirement (of course), this sort-of Abduction Whisperer is called in to help find the police chief's (Dermot Mulroney) missing niece (Dharbi Jens).  Voight suspects everyone, including the squabbling parents (Teri Polo, Ben Crowley), the babysitter (Skyler Shaye), and even a famous TV psychic (Julian Morris) who claims to have visions of the missing girl.  The paranormal angle is just a dead-end distraction and the final revelation straight out of an uninspired LAW & ORDER episode.  Director Josef Rusnak (who made the underrated 1999 sci-fi film THE THIRTEENTH FLOOR, but lately has been doing stuff like the dreadful IT'S ALIVE remake) establishes an impressively cold, barren look throughout the film with wide open interiors and the snowy terrain of Alaska and gets an appropriately grizzled, grouchy performance from Voight, who's still got it at 73, but as a thriller, BEYOND is a pretty stale affair.  (PG-13, 90 mins)


CONTRABAND
(US/UK/Iceland, 2012)

Icelandic actor/director Baltasar Kormakur starred in Oskar Jonasson's 2008 thriller REYKJAVIK-ROTTERDAM and steps behind the camera for this remake.  Mark Wahlberg takes over Kormakur's role, bringing his finest "say hi to your mother for me" schtick to his role as a now-legit ex-smuggler brought back into the game for One Last Job.  Now running his own New Orleans security company, Wahlberg is forced to bail out his loser brother-in-law (Caleb Landry Jones) who botched a drug run and is on the hook for $700,000 to dirtbag drug lord/Cajun meth-head Giovanni Ribisi.  Ribisi, totally over the top, has no problem making overt threats to Wahlberg's wife (Kate Beckinsale) and kids, so she takes them to stay with Wahlberg's best friend (Ben Foster), who really can't be trusted, since he's played by Ben Foster.  Wahlberg and some pals get work on a container ship captained by J.K. Simmons (cast radically against type as "J.K. Simmons") in order to smuggle in some counterfeit bills from Panama, but there wouldn't be a movie if the plan didn't turn to shit.  Before long, the plot involves a psychotic Panamanian crime kingpin (Diego Luna), bricks of cocaine, a priceless Jackson Pollock painting, and Ribisi threatening to shoot Wahlberg's kid at his Little League game.  Plausibility isn't CONTRABAND's strong suit, but it's sufficiently entertaining.  Kormakur thankfully avoids annoying trends like shaky-cam and in the latter part of the film, with the help of Clinton Shorter's synthy score, he actually gets a very Michael Mann vibe going before a wrap-up that's just far too conveniently neat and tidy.  Diverting while you're watching it but forgettable soon after, CONTRABAND will have a long life on cable but isn't anything special, though it's highly recommended for fans of Giovanni Ribisi scenery chewing. (R, 110 mins)

On DVD: RETREAT (2011), THE TUNNEL (2011), WYATT EARP'S REVENGE (2012)

RETREAT
(2011/UK-Ireland)

Another entry in the new wave of apocalypse cinema, RETREAT uses the end of the world as the basis for a psychological thriller.  Clearly troubled married couple Cillian Murphy and Thandie Newton head to an isolated island cottage in the middle of nowhere.  She's devastated by a recent miscarriage and resentful of Murphy's apparent non-reaction to it.  The cottage owner isn't answering his CB, the generator goes, military planes start flying overhead, and she feels the need to cover herself with a towel when he tries to enter the bathroom.  Into this already tense situation comes dazed, bloodied Jamie Bell.  He has a gun and claims his boat sank, but he brings worse news:  a superflu pandemic is wiping out the rest of the world and it's only a matter of time before it reaches them.  Bell starts fortifying the cottage as it becomes a powderkeg of unresolved issues, lingering tensions, shifting roles, and head games.  Plus there's the very real possibility that the increasingly unhinged Bell is making it all up.  Director/co-writer Carl Tibbetts moves things along quite briskly and somewhat rushes through things (Newton's inevitable Stockholm Syndrome/questioning of Murphy's manhood hits and passes so quickly that you might miss it) and isn't very subtle with the foreshadowing (when Murphy pulls out an inhaler early on, do you think there's any chance he'll be stricken by a sudden asthma attack at a crucial moment later on?), but it's a diverting thriller that actually has a creative and unpredictable twist and Bell (will it ever be possible to look at him and not see BILLY ELLIOT?) makes a very credible creep. (R, 90 mins)


THE TUNNEL
(2011/Australia)

Another BLAIR WITCH-inspired faux documentary with long scenes shot in night vision?  With a misspelled blurb ("skilful"?) on the poster art?  Yes, but before dismissing it entirely, know that the low-budget Australian import THE TUNNEL is a surprisingly effective knockoff that gets a lot of mileage out of a great location and believable performances by its four leads before succumbing to familiarity late in the game.  When the New South Wales government abruptly abandons its much-ballyhooed plans to build an underground water recycling plant in the miles of unused train tunnels under Sydney and won't tell the media why, ambitious TV news reporter Nat (Bel Delia) thinks it has something to do with reports of homeless people disappearing in the tunnels where many have made a makeshift home.  Nat, producer Peter (Andy Rodoreda), camera operator Steve (Steve Davis), and sound man Tangles (Luke Arnold) sneak into the tunnels unauthorized and soon wish they hadn't.  They find evidence of people living there, but no one's around, and Tangles starts picking up strange whispers in his headset.  And because Nat never bothered to run any of this by their boss, no one knows they're down there.  Director Carlo Ledesma isn't breaking new ground here and there's been no shortage of underground tunnel-related fright flicks in recent years (CREEP, THE MIDNIGHT MEAT TRAIN, STAG NIGHT) and certainly no shortage of faux documentary/found footage films.  But like the terrific LAKE MUNGO, another fairly recent Australian film with the overused faux-doc set-up,  THE TUNNEL succeeds despite everyone being sick of its type.  It even provides an excuse for why Steve continues to film all of the action instead of putting the camera down and running (it's their only light source after the flashlights mysteriously vanish).  Only near the climax, when Ledesma starts cribbing a little too brazenly from BLAIR WITCH, right down to the same tilted angles that date back to Ruggero Deodato's CANNIBAL HOLOCAUST, does it start to seem stale and dated.  But when the quartet finds themselves hopelessly lost in the endless, narrow, claustrophobic catacombs under the city, listening to every sound and eerie whisper, coupled with the way Ledesma very subtly lets the menace be seen in very fleeting glimpses, there's no denying that THE TUNNEL gets the job done.  (Unrated, 90 mins)


WYATT EARP'S REVENGE
(2012/US)

Val Kilmer's iconic performance as Doc Holliday in 1993's TOMBSTONE will likely go down as his finest work, especially since he's spent most of the last decade in some of the worst DTV swill out there, in addition to his unholy alliance with 50 Cent (STREETS OF BLOOD, GUN, BLOOD OUT).  I still think Kilmer's got an Oscar-worthy performance left in him, and he occasionally finds himself in supporting roles in quality films, but those are few and far between.  So bad are most of Kilmer's films these days that the dull and uninspired WYATT EARP'S REVENGE isn't even that good and yet, it's one of the classier DTV films he's done.  Kilmer's participation is minimal, playing an aged Earp in 1907, telling his story to a newspaper reporter.  The bulk of the film focuses on Earp 30 years earlier, and played by Shawn Roberts, who heads a cast of basic cable and basement-dwelling network mainstays playing cowboy dressup and making YOUNG GUNS look like THE PROPOSITION (half the cast seems to have been recruited from the CW's HART OF DIXIE). When Earp's fiancee Dora (former AMERICAN IDOL runner-up Diana DeGarmo) is killed by vicious outlaw Spike Kenedy (Daniel Booko), he forms a posse, which includes Bat Masterson (KYLE XY's Matt Dallas), and they're off in hot pursuit.  WYATT EARP'S REVENGE isn't awful, but except for some incidental swearing and one gruesome bullet removal, it feels like it was made for the Hallmark Channel.  All of Kilmer's scenes have him seated, talking to the reporter and looking like he borrowed his get-up from one of those old-timey photo booths at an amusement park.  He was probably on and off the set in a day, two tops, and still manages to turn in a better performance than everyone else.  The only other name of note is country music star Trace Adkins, who's second-billed but doesn't even appear until 70 minutes in and can't act to save his life.  Given its low-budget DTV origins, the film is surprisingly well-shot, with only Adkins' terrible acting and a couple of ineptly-staged fistfights to provide unintended laughs.  Tired and forgettable but, simply by default, one of Kilmer's more tolerable recent efforts.  And that's just sad.  (PG-13, 93 mins)

New on DVD/Blu-ray: INTO THE ABYSS (2011), SLEEPING BEAUTY (2011), THE DARKEST HOUR (2011)

INTO THE ABYSS
(2011/US-UK-Germany)

Werner Herzog's latest documentary is an examination of capital punishment in America and has some fleeting moments of undeniable power, but suffers from a lack of focus and no real expansion on Herzog's personal point of being against the death penalty.  Originally conceived as a look at five different capital punishment cases, Herzog narrowed it down to one for a feature film, and the rest became episodes of the Investigation Discovery TV mini-series ON DEATH ROW.  INTO THE ABYSS looks at convicted killers Michael Perry and Jason Burkett, who murdered three people in Conroe, TX in 2001.  Perry and Burkett killed nurse Sandra Stotler in a home invasion because they wanted her Camaro.  After disposing of the body in a lake, they returned and waited for her son Adam to return home, then killed him and his friend Jeremy Richardson.  It only took police a matter of days to figure out that they were responsible.  Perry and Burkett, not the brightest sorts, were driving around in the Stotler vehicles, claiming to some that they bought them with a $4000 winning lottery ticket, while openly bragging to others that they killed three people and stole their cars. A cigarette butt with Perry's DNA was found under Adam Stotler's body in a wooded area where they'd disposed of it.  And at some point between the murders and being apprehended, Perry needed to go to the hospital and used Adam's ID and was calling himself "Adam Stotler," who hadn't been seen in nearly a week. 

But oddly, once Herzog begins interviewing the subjects, with occasional exceptions, the film starts spinning its wheels.  He's not trying to exonerate anyone, as Errol Morris was in THE THIN BLUE LINE (1988) or as Joe Berlinger & Bruce Sinofsky were with the PARADISE LOST films There's absolutely no doubt that Perry and Burkett committed these crimes.  Herzog states he's against the death penalty and flat out tells Perry, interviewed eight days from his July 1, 2010 execution, that he doesn't like him but respects him enough as human being that he shouldn't be executed.  Through interviews with Perry, Burkett, Burkett's incarcerated father, and relatives of the victims, we see that pretty much everyone in Conroe comes from a broken home with much tragedy in their lives.  Like CAVE OF FORGOTTEN DREAMS, INTO THE ABYSS feels like a 45-minute TV documentary special stretched out to feature length.  Tedium occasionally sets in as Herzog makes his points and belabors them with interview footage that supports his thesis.  I found that the best moments of INTO THE ABYSS are the ones where no one is talking:  the way Herzog incorporates the truly disturbing police crime scene video into the early part of the film.  We see the dead bodies of the Stotlers and Richardson, as they were found, and Sandra Stotler's house, with blood spatter on the walls, the TV still on, dirty dishes in the sink, a baking sheet half filled with dough as she was in the middle of baking cookies when Burkett rang the doorbell.  Or, a decade later, Sandra Stotler's red Camaro, the reason three people were brutally murdered, weather-beaten and still sitting in a police impound lot, where it had to be moved once because a tree grew under and through it in the previous spot where it was parked.  Or Herzog's camera slowly panning across the graves in a prison cemetery for those executed.  These chilling moments are without question the most hauntingly effective in INTO THE ABYSS, because other than saying "I'm against capital punishment," Herzog really isn't saying anything at all.  Lip service is paid to the fact that Texas administers more executions than any other state...why not examine that?  (PG-13, 107 mins; also available on Netflix streaming)




SLEEPING BEAUTY
(2011/Australia)

Australian novelist Julia Leigh makes her directing debut with this maddeningly indecipherable, Jane Campion-presented look at the enigmatic Lucy (SUCKER PUNCH's Emily Browning), a college student working multiple jobs.  She goes to class, works in a cafe, does some secretarial duty in an office, earns money from being a medical test subject, and is a part-time prostitute by night.  She also gets a job as a semi-nude wine server at dinner parties for a group of rich weirdos at an EYES WIDE SHUT-type mansion where the rest of the topless serving team look like they just walked out of a Robert Palmer video gone S&M.  Her boss at this "service," Clara (Rachael Blake, eerily channeling Charlotte Rampling) gets her a side gig for the same old pervs where she's given a sedative that knocks her out for eight hours, during which time the client can do whatever he wants with her aside from vaginal penetration.  Leigh fills the film with obscure symbolism (berries spilling from Lucy's hand!) and shoots it in a very claustrophobic, non-cinematic style with static, stationary shots and very limited camera movement.  It goes nowhere fast, though Browning should be given props for an often daring performance as she lies motionless while several veteran Australian character actors (including Hugh Keays-Byrne, aka MAD MAX's "Toecutter") strip completely nude (for those who've waited patiently for a shot of Chris Haywood's taint, your prayers have been answered) and climb on top of her, fondle her, lick her, cradle her like a baby, sadistically burn her with a cigarette, etc.  But what's the point?  Lucy remains a cipher throughout.  She has no friends other than an alcoholic shut-in (Ewen Leslie), seems to be juggling a series of lies to all her acquaintances, and as such, it proves difficult to get to the heart of a protagonist who has no core. We don't know Lucy, what she is, who she is, how she came to be, or why she does what she does.  Add to all of that a frustratingly ambiguous ending that resolves nothing, and you end up with a highbrow, pretentious Skinemax flick that's as impenetrable as its heroine when she's on duty.  (Unrated, 102 mins; also available on Netflix streaming)



THE DARKEST HOUR
(2011/US)

Director Chris Gorak's 2007 debut RIGHT AT YOUR DOOR was a terrifying dirty-bombs-going-off-in-L.A. paranoia thriller that served as an introduction to a promising filmmaker.  Now working with a much bigger budget and increasingly irrelevant NIGHT WATCH auteur-turned-Hollywood hack Timur Bekmambetov, Gorak delivers a shit-the-bed sophomore slump of the lowest order with THE DARKEST HOUR, one of the least scary horror films you'll ever see, indifferently acted by a bored cast of talented actors who shouldn't be this cynically coasting so early in their careers.  Emile Hirsch (already a long way from INTO THE WILD) and Max Minghella are two douchebag software designers trying to close a deal in Moscow when the city is attacked by...lights?  They're actually tiny aliens housed by a protective outer field, and...well, who gives a shit, really?  Hirsch and Minghella end up on the run from the aliens with vacationing American Olivia Thirlby and Australian Rachael Taylor, plus Swedish asshole Joel Kinnaman (probably the best thing about the TV series THE KILLING), who screwed Hirsch and Minghella out of their business deal.  Combining elements of at least ten other better movies, THE DARKEST HOUR is terribly-written (by Jon Spaihts, one of the writers of Ridley Scott's eagerly-anticipated PROMETHEUS), badly-acted, thoroughly lacking in suspense or scares, sluggishly paced, and frankly, boring as hell.  It's bad.  I'm talking SKYLINE bad.  Plus, bottom-of-the-barrel visual effects and shoddy greenscreen that had to look even worse in theaters when this played in 3D.  An utter waste of time.  (PG-13, 89 mins).

New on Netflix streaming: UNDOCUMENTED (2011), DEVIL'S PLAYGROUND (2010), SAINT NICK (2010)

UNDOCUMENTED
(2011/US)

It was only a matter of time before the subject of right-wing extremism became the basis for a horror film, and UNDOCUMENTED has some intriguing ideas but doesn't really do much with them.  A documentary filmmaker (Scott Mechlowicz) and his crew tag along with a group of Mexicans illegally crossing the border into the US.  Once they're across and in New Mexico, they're abducted by a far-right militia group and taken to a compound, where the leader, X (Peter Stormare, relying on his distinctive voice as his face is obscured by a mesh hood for 99% of his screen time), makes Mechlowicz change the focus of his film to what goes on at the compound.  Fed up with illegal immigration and the perceived disrespect of America, X and his followers, many of whom are naturalized citizens, proceed to torture and kill the illegals, using some of them for organ harvesting for rich American clients (that plot again?).  There's a potentially interesting story here, but director/co-writer Chris Peckover too often focuses instead on the past-its-sell-by-date torture porn angle, making UNDOCUMENTED come off less like a topical horror film with a message and more like what might happen if Eli Roth remade EL NORTE.  (Unrated, 96 mins)


DEVIL'S PLAYGROUND
(2010/UK)

Absolutely dreadful, shamelessly derivative British zombie outing may as well be titled 28 RIPOFFS LATER.  Here, its sprinting dead are the result of a company called N-Gen testing an over-the-counter energy booster on 30,000 volunteers.  29,999 turn into flesh-eating ghouls with the sudden ability to engage in agile parkour and free-running.  No, really.  Maybe this was supposed to be a spoof and they forgot the jokes?  "Hey, it's like DISTRICT B13, but with zombies!" is the kind of idea that sounds awesome until your high wears off.  One volunteer (THE DESCENT's MyAnna Buring) is immune and the unscrupulous N-Gen CEO (Colin Salmon) sends hard-bitten (and zombie-bitten, but he has a temporary vaccine) mercenary hitman (Craig Fairbrass) to find her.  There's also Buring's sprung con brother (Danny Dyer, trying to sound badass but sounding more like Bob Hoskins after oral surgery), his pal (DOOMSDAY's Craig Conway), and a few others who, courtesy of the screenwriters at Plot Convenience Playhouse, all end up in the outskirts of London, barricaded in a garage to stave off the hordes of the infected.  Filled with ludicrous contrivances (amazing how Fairbrass literally stumbles upon, in the middle of nowhere, the very place Buring is hiding), ugly digital video cinematography, headache-inducing shaky-cam and fast cutting that renders most of the action incomprehensible, numerous characters that director Mark McQueen forgets about for long stretches (plus a pointless comic relief cameo by DOG SOLDIERS' Sean Pertwee), and a bored cast that looks like they're waiting around for Neil Marshall to put them in a better movie, DEVIL'S PLAYGROUND is the absolute pits.  Forget it.  (Unrated, 97 mins)


SAINT NICK
aka SAINT
(2010/The Netherlands)

This yuletide fright flick from Dutch horror master Dick Maas (THE LIFT, AMSTERDAMNED) no doubt plays much better on DVD where you can choose the original Dutch audio track.  The version streaming on Netflix is the badly-dubbed English track, and it's distracting, to say the least.  Maas explores the darker side of the holiday season in a 1492 prologue where evil bishop Niklas (Maas regular Huub Stapel) and his evil minions the Black Petes regularly rape and pillage their way through the village until they're all burned alive by the fed-up townspeople.  Now, every 32 years (or 23...the dubbers can't keep it straight, and the years referenced don't add up either way) on December 5, St. Nick returns to exact his vengeance.  Cut to 2010 Amsterdam, as St. Nick returns for his killing spree.  In spite of all the gory killings, most regard St. Nick as a myth, except for high-strung detective Goert (Bert Luppes), who gets suspended from duty while the clueless cops blame the killings on local teen Frank (Egbert Jan Weeber).  So, of course, the two of them have to reluctantly join forces to defeat the ghost of the evil St. Nick. If you can get by the abysmal dubbing, SAINT NICK is a pretty good time, depending on your tolerance for splatter and general bad taste.  A lot of the killings are played for laughs and done in the over-the-top style of early Sam Raimi or Peter Jackson.   You can get the general plot and enjoy the dark-humored, blood-soaked mayhem, but Netflix really should look into streaming the Dutch audio with English subtitles instead of the slapdash and extremely awkward English dub, where none of the voices seem to fit the actors.  Good fun as long as no one's talking. (Unrated, 88 mins).

On DVD/Blu-ray: WAR HORSE (2011), COLUMBUS CIRCLE (2012)

WAR HORSE
(2011/US)

Steven Spielberg considers his film version of Michael Morpurgo's 1982 novel and Nick Stafford's 2007 play to be his "John Ford movie," and that's pretty accurate. WAR HORSE is the kind of grand, majestic, unabashedly sentimental epic that simply doesn't get made any more.  Yes, it's maudlin and manipulative, but it's also beautifully made, with stunning imagery throughout, and a love of cinema that comes through in every scene.  The story of an exceptionally gifted thoroughbred named Joey, trained by young Albie Narracott (Jeremy Irvine), and sold by his loving but financially-strapped father (Peter Mullan) to the British Army at the start of the Great War is one that shamelessly tugs on the heartstrings.  It's easy to be jaded and cynical when it comes to cinema these days, but Spielberg pulls this off so well that if you aren't a believer by the end, then there's really no hope for you.  We follow Joey on his episodic journey through the chaos of WWI and a succession of brief masters like a military officer (Tom Hiddleston), a pair of German brothers (David Kross, Leonard Carow), a young French girl (Celine Buckens) and her grandfather (Niels Arestrup) and so on.  When an injured Joey is trapped by barbed wire on a battlefield, he even manages to make a British soldier and a German soldier emerge from their respective trenches, setting aside the war for a few minutes as they work together to free him.  Albie, meanwhile, has enlisted and is fighting in the trenches.  Will he and Joey find each other?  Of course they will.  You know that already.  And even when you know it's coming, Spielberg films it just right, with the John Williams score swelling at just the right time...not a dry eye in the house.

There have been times where Spielberg's sentimental streak has worked against him (the last half hour of A.I.: ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE comes to mind), and there are countless different ways this could've been a laughable disaster in the wrong hands, but Spielberg is at the top of his game here, and in scene after scene, WAR HORSE serves as yet another reinforcement of why Spielberg is Spielberg.  By his lofty record at the box office, this wasn't a huge hit, topping out at just under $80 million in the US, but along with 2005's MUNICH, it's probably his best film since SAVING PRIVATE RYAN.   The terrific cast also includes Emily Watson, David Thewlis, Toby Kebbell, Liam Cunningham, Eddie Marsan, and Benedict Cumberbatch.  (PG-13, 146 mins)



COLUMBUS CIRCLE
(2012/US)

Universal dumped this minor-league suspense thriller directly to DVD after two years on the shelf and it's not hard to see why.  It's not that it's bad, but that it's entirely too predictable, with the twists telegraphed far too early and obviously by director George Gallo, who co-wrote the script with co-star Kevin Pollak.  Gallo (who gets a lifetime pass for scripting 1988's MIDNIGHT RUN) and Pollak are both known more for their comedic skills and don't really demonstrate a knack for Hitchcock knockoffs.  The film has an admirably old-fashioned feel to it, but the script is utterly lacking in any of the wit either of these guys have demonstrated in their past work, as well as any kind of central mystery.  There's a couple flashes of inspiration in the last 20 or so minutes, but it's not enough to lift this above the level of an uninspired LAW & ORDER episode.  All of that, in addition to a capable, perfectly acceptable, yet not exactly A-list cast that would've carried more marquee weight in 2002 instead of 2012, is ample evidence why this skipped theaters altogether.  COLUMBUS CIRCLE centers on an agoraphobic heiress (Selma Blair) who hasn't left her NYC penthouse apartment in 18 years.  When her neighbor dies in a fall that detective Giovanni Ribisi thinks might be a homicide, that apartment is rented by rich asshole Jason Lee and his abused wife Amy Smart.  Blair, hiding from a mysterious past, trusts only the concierge (Pollak) and her doctor (Beau Bridges), but cautiously forms a friendship with Smart, even though the sinister Lee clearly has something up his sleeve.  From the opening scene with a photo on the neighbor's bedside table, Gallo and Pollak seem all too eager to make this mystery as flimsy as the wobbly door going into Blair's penthouse.  Remove an F-bomb and this is weak TV-movie material from start to finish as Gallo and Pollak use every means short of spotlights and an air horn to point out every twist long before they happen.  Did Pollak learn nothing about plot twists and story construction when he co-starred in THE USUAL SUSPECTS?  Also with the venerable Robert Guillaume in a small role as a bookstore owner with an intricate knowledge of obscure family crests, rewarded for his time and effort by having his name misspelled "Giullaume" in the closing credits. (PG-13, 86 mins)