Resident Evil Review

The world probably doesn't need another "Resident Evil" film reboot, but at least this time they got the plotting right. Director Zach Cregger (who also wrote the script with Shay Hatten) doesn't bother adapting any of the video games, instead focusing on a simple "what if." Considering the franchise's plot is so outrageously wack, even to its biggest fans, that's probably for the best.

The story follows Bryan, an unambitious medical courier who takes a last-minute job. It pays double because of how far away he has to go- he has to go all the way to Racoon City. He wants the money, even if it means he'll be home late, where his pregnant girlfriend wants "to talk" about what to do with the baby. I imagine he hopes if he's out long enough she'll fall asleep and they can just talk tomorrow; Bryan is not the kind of guy who thinks that far ahead.

In his illequipped Subaru, Bryan struggles to keep a good pace on the icy roads, his girlfriend mad that he is still not home and has bad reception. If you're wondering just what the heck this has to do with "Resident Evil," don't worry, because the filmmakers are wisely getting the setup out of the way so they can highlight the mayhem to come. He accidentally runs over a woman who stumbled into the street, and as it turns out, our poor protagonist does not exactly handle emergencies well. And that's putting it mildly.

He finds her off on the side of the road, bleeding and paralyzed. He figures he'll drop her off at the hospital since that's his destination, ultimately, especially since he can't get ahold of the police. What luck then, it is that one pulls him over for swerving recklessly. The cop's radio is down as well, so he takes the girl and escorts him to the hospital. Or so that's the plan.

Things do not go as planned. In fact, they almost immediately hit the fan. Soon after some more plot, Bryan's attacked by the woman, a dog with a surprise its own, then another person, who end up combining with the other into a grotesque, somersaulting mass of fleshy disgust. It chases him through a tunnel and into the mammal-inspired town, getting bit himself in the process. I wouldn't worry, I'm sure it's just a flesh wound.

Things just keep growing more and more out-of-hand once Bryan enters the city, too. Attacking rats, zombies jumping off of rooftops, even evil babies! The man just can't catch a break. And it's in this narrative simplicity that "Resident Evil" succeeds. Expected scenes filled with flat characters and forced dialog are replaced by dark corners, dimly lit sewers and pulsating blobs of bloody bodies. Dariusz Wolski's cinematography is a gift, and Cregger exploits it to its fullest effect.

Bryan is played by Austin Abrams, who gives a wonderfully interesting and askew performance. He's cowardly, insecure and awkward, lacking tact and force in pretty much every of the many situations he stumbles headfirst into. It's fun to watch someone constantly and consistently be in over their head; he never develops the confidence lesser scripts often suddenly give their heroes, and Abrams is charming in his own, offbeat way that the sometimes imbecilic decisions he makes don't distract.

It's not perfect, however. The men behind the camera wanted to finish with an unexpected, somber twist, but it disrespects the relationship I built up with Bryan through his journey through literal hell. He deserves better, and so do audiences.

The Runner Review

"The Runner," which came out this weekend, is unrelated to "Runner, which comes out next weekend. Both are action thrillers, but only the former has Gal Gadot in yoga pants doing a lot of running. So if sweat-drenched workout clothes are your thing, then I'm not sure I'm comfortable with my site being in your browser history alongside whatever else you look at. You sicky.

Gadot stars as Maia, a successful laywer who's latest client is about to link some big crime lord to a double-homicide of two young women. The trial date is today, and what better way to prepare then to go on a run. After dropping her diabetic son off at school, she has hardly broken a sweat when she gets a call from his phone. But it's not her offspring on the other end, but a mysterious man. She naturally doesn't believe him, until she hears her son say this nice unknown man is going to take him out for ice cream. Someone clearly hasn't ever seen an episode of Unsolved Mysteries and it shows.

What does the caller want? He wants her to shoot her client, so that his employer can walk free. He gives her rules, like not talking to anyone, must travel by foot, but most pressing is a short one hour time limit, or else her son will die. Oh, violence against kids, is there anything more tasteless?

So she races off. It's a good few miles to the hotel where her client awaits the courts, and every single gimmick you can think of, so did writer Mark Gibson. Someone steals her phone, she gets hit by a car, she falls down, the works. She also breaks every rule she's given, though it mostly ends up as an excuse for her to run inside a train, and then on the train tracks. At one point, the caller tells her "rules are meant to be broken." Then why even bother with the rules in the first place?!

For a film Amazon Prime claims is an action thriller, there is very little action. Most of the runtime consists of Maia running in the crowded streets of London, while talking to the unknown man through her headphones. You would think some bystander would hear her conversation and contact the authorities, and the script's answer is to have every single person in the city glued to their phones. Well, except the homeless. And the cops. And children, oh and a priest, because the filmmakers decided we needed little detour in a church. Just what all films need.

I will say, the creative and relentless way things just keep happening to our heroine is amusing, and I did find myself wondering just what else they could possibly throw at her. Director 

Kevin Macdonald shows some flair by having us see Maia running from behind, then through a shop window, or from a distance, though the camera did seem to linger a bit too long on her backside at times. Then he gets in his own way by periodically showing Gadot's face in this awkward freeze-frame, and I'm sorry, but she simply isn't a strong enough actress to carry emotions, or scenes, by her mug alone. This is a woman whose only kid is being threatened, and she constantly stares ahead with the same level of wide-eye indifference.

But Macdonald is just as much to blame for the subpar acting, however. It is the director's job to make the film they want, and I honestly doubt "The Runner" ended up how anyone dreamt. Some of the more hectic moments are just clumsy, like unfinished CGI or shoddy bluescreen. One scene in particular, when our lead leaps out of the way of speeding train, grabbing onto a chain linked fense for safety. It should be thrilling, but it is so oddly filmed, acted and edited that I laughed loudly, and Amazon Prime most certainly didn't label this a comedy.

I can't be all that hard on Gadot though, as it's not like she's given much to work with. She plays a single working mom, and her case revolves around senseless violence towards women. Her backstory is even less savory: she shot her dad after he kept beating her mom. I get that these events are what made her into the heroic lead she is today, but why can't she just be heroic from the start? And don't get me started on the subplot concerning her lack of a social life. The caller man, who has hacked into her phone and computers, finds images (no doubt Photoshopped) of Wonder Woman herself half-naked, intended for a would-be lover. Maybe a male writer and director aren't the most knowledgeable when it comes to making a female-led film?

Mutiny Review

If there's one thing I hate more than planes, it's boats. I don't trust the water, myself on top or what's beneath. But what about a plane that makes an emergency water landing? Jeez, my body tensed up so much just writing those words down that I need to use one of those complimentary alcoholic drink vouchers.

Fortunately for my silly irrationalities, the new big action movie "Mutiny," which takes place almost entirely upon a large shipping vessel, doesn't so much as utter the word airplane. Not that there's much in the way of dialogue, I mean, its lead actor is Jason Statham, who views words as inconveniences on his way to continue coming up with unique ways to insert ammunition into bad guys. If Liam Neeson is today's Charles Bronson, then today's Chuck Norris would be Mr. Statham, if only because both hardly ever stray from the action genre. I make that statement with both affection and the cold realization that I'll never get to see that starring role of his in a romantic comedy.

I can't quite get over the name though. The meat of the movie takes place upon a ship, yet the title is "Mutiny." Why not "Ship" or something? I mean, the director Jean-François Richet's previous picture was named "Plane" whose action quickly left the skies and took place in, checks internet, somewhere in the southern Philippines.

But back to "Boat-" I mean "Mutiny." This is not especially an inspired film, one whose story I swear I've read at least a dozen times before when scrubbing through the bowels of Amazon Prime, but I'll do my best: Statham plays Cole Reed, a highly decorated former cop and military something or other who now works as the top security guard for some big billionaire bloke (Ramon Tikaram). His boss is about to sell his Bangkok shipping business, so that his son will be able to follow his own dreams," as if being stupid rich wouldn't already allow that, but I digress. Soon after the title card appears, there's a shootout where Cole dispatches a half dozen nameless henchmen using guns, the side and open door of a car, but not before his superior is killed in the crossfire. 

Now, Cole knows he's in trouble; this attack wasn't some random act of violence but a strategic siege. He must have seen other action movies before. Rummaging through the assaulter's belongings, he stumbles upon both a passport and security card for, get this, one of the executive's own boats! Uh oh, this means it's an inside job, and no doubt will lead to him being blamed for his death.

So it's a good thing that the now-dead goon was not just white, but also bald, now he's able to infiltrate the ocean liner unnoticed, now on a mission for vengeance. What luck! Once it leaves the dock, he begins to creep around the ship when he hears what sounds like faint whimpering. Breaking the lock off of a large metal crate, the faces of ten or so women, men and children trapped inside stare back at him. He's surprised to find them, of course, but since he had to crawl so far deep inside the barge, I'm surprised he wasn't surprised that he could hear the noise in the first place. But this is Jason Statham we're talking about, his ears must lift weights and do cardio.

There are other characters, some of which have names in the script, but who cares? The sight of everyone's English tough guy using a knife to battle a man with an ax, all while swinging on a gangway, wasn't something I knew was missing from my life, but "Mutiny" has that and more! 

Well, more violence at least. Purpose, intelligence, grace and logic are in astonishing short supply. It's not just dumb but also excessive and also loud- subtlety appears here only in its right-wing agenda: human traffickers? Bad (duh). Your boss? Good (umm). The US military? Also good (also umm), and so on.

The fighting, which is frequent, bloody and features just about as many guns as it does punches, takes place almost entirely during the day, so you can clearly see who's barrel which shot is coming out from. And isn't that what really matters in an action movie?  I mean, it is until the action stops and plot is forced to happen: the narrative is packed with holes big enough to fit an entire ship though, along with both of Statham's fists. But just when I begin to think about thinking, this absolutely goofy enterprise pulled me right back into its absurdity that I found myself no longer caring. And people say I'm a harsh critic.

The End of Oak Street Review

"The End of Oak Street" succeeds where so many in the "Jurassic Park" franchise have stagnated for so long: this is a tense action thriller disguised as a blockbuster, creating individual moments so fresh and so exciting that you often end up forgetting the aggressive silliness of the actual plot and astonishing stupidity of so many of the characters.

False Mesozoic era purists might scoff at the lack of people standing in awe at the majesty of these warm-blooded reptiles, but that's because here, they're too busy ripping people to shreds, and I appreciate that.

It all begins with a scene that only exists in the minds of boomer parents, where the entire block is out having a block party. The adults all drink Schlitz beer together while the kids play balloon toss, regardless of age or middle school social stature. This opening would be hilarious if not for its stone-cold sincerity.

We see young Brian (Christian Convery) ride bikes with his friends, dote over his doggy Starbuck and make googly eyes at the new girl Jeannette, played by Jordan Alexa Davis, who just moved in nearby. Yet not all is right in this 1980's community bliss: in an offscreen accident, he shoved a stick through the spokes of a classmate's bike, resulting in a kid breaking his arm, and boy is his older brother out for vengeance. This sort of adolescent shenanigans must run in the family, as his older sister Audrey (Maisy Stella) is seen struggling to fit in. See, she reads books! And not just any books- science fiction books! What a nerd!

Anne Hathaway plays their mother Denise, a hypocrite housewife who's been plotting to leave her husband Greg (Ewan McGregor) since their honeymoon, chronicling a hypothetical "how to" in a novel she writes in secret in the basement. He is a good sport though, maintaining a positive attitude throughout, much to the chagrin of the wannabe writer. She fears Greg's been drinking again, which he has, and is embarrassed that he's delivering pizzas to make some extra money. While she doesn't know he's been laid off (again) from the Chrysler plant, she knows he's keeping something else from her and that is apparently enough to put into practice that newfangled no-fault divorce she must have seen Dan Rather report on from their wood grain CRT TV.

This is a lot of backstory for what ultimately amounts to a simple monster movie. But then I remember that this was produced by J. J. Abrams, who's entire career can be defined as wanting so desperately to be Steven Spielberg that it all makes sense.

But I digress, because once the dinosaurs appear, the picture picks up such momentum that I almost forgot the awkward corner seat I for some reason decided to sit in. I say almost not because it wasn't uncomfortable, which it was, but because man, these people make some dumb choices. Brian's dog is missing since the creatures appeared, but after seeing it being chased by a raptor, he climbs down from the second-story window and goes after it! In the dark! Armed with, get this, a bow-and-arrow. His sister spots him, and instead of telling their parents, goes after him. In the dark! Armed with, get this, a pocket knife. Yeah sure, I'm sure "Jurassic Park" would have ended a lot differently had Alan Grant had a folding blade in his jeans.

Then things get lively again, like a scene where Denise and Greg's car is smashed into a house by a sharptooth. There is an intensity to these pleasantly feathered behemoths, showing up out in the open, in houses, from the sky and even out of pools, and they're shot cleanly so that we the audience can clearly see them.

Dinosaur films have hardly had any competition ever since "Jurassic Park" ruled the world back in 1993, at least not with a budget as high as this one does, and writer/director David Robert Mitchell knows exactly what kind of movie it wants to be, but it lacks the nerve to achieve those gnarly ambitions. Why bother putting kids into a dinosaur movie, dangle them in constant danger only for the worst thing to happen to them, physically at least, is a few cuts and I think a broken leg. The whole thing wraps up too cleanly with a nonsensical happy ending that isn't anywhere near as clever as the filmmakers thought.

I should also mention that, while Starbuck does live, a random cat scene in the background does not. Obviously Mr. Mitchell is a dog person.

The Devil's Mouth Review

"Shark Week" continues on So I Went to the Movies, and after April's dismal "Thrash" from Netflix, I had my hopes that a different streaming service would finally make a competent monster movie. Amazon Prime's "The Devil's Mouth" is no such film. A group of obnoxious young adults get devoured one-by-one by a bull shark in a Thailand cave. In essence, it's "The Descent" only without the tension, memorable characters, creative creature design or just about anything that keeps people talking about it. The only time this flick will ever come up in conversation is "hey, did you see that awful shark movie on Amazon this weekend?"

The plot is really as simple as I described: five friends are out on vacation, renting the kind of boat that reeks of overprivileged Gen-Zers with unstable relationships with their rich parents. Early on, the timid Sara (Kathryn Newton) is left behind in the ocean by the others and attacked by jelly fish. Her best friend, the senselessly aggressive Max (Lana Condor) was the only one who knew she was out for a swim. By the time they remember and rescue her, she's covered in scars and sores that we fortunately don't see anyone pee on. Max and Sara exchange passive-aggressive remarks but Max's boyfriend James (Nico Hiraga) is able to nudge them into forgiving each other. Which is a shame, because if they just cancelled their next-day plans they'd all still be alive, but whoa hey, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Morning comes and it is off for the band to take a smaller boat to an island, and then canoe into a cave. From there, they take to their bathing suits, don some snorkels and make their way towards "the devil's mouth." Made famous for its jagged stalagmites and stalactites, as if making a toothy jaw of an apex predator: like a shark. Or devil, I suppose. The party also includes their friend Adrienne (Tommi Rose) and her new boy toy Greg (Gavin Casalegno). Her personality is one of simply existing, and his is that of a jock. Screenwriters Aja Gabel and Myung Joh Wesner never provide an answer as to why anyone would ever enter an underwater cave system called "the devil's mouth," but they clearly haven't ever met a stereotype that they didn't like.

Now inside the twisted system of caverns and probably forty minutes in, we finally get to meet the real star of the movie, the shark. The water inside is fresh, despite being surrounded by ocean, so the group deduces it is a bull shark, surprise surprise. Just once I'd like to see a movie about an irritated nurse shark or something, but I digress.

With a threat now obvious, the pack quickly begins to panic, despite their guide Wat (Tayme Thapthimthong) desperately trying to lead them to safety. He's my favorite character actually- he looks at the hysterical folks and just leaves, saying to follow him if they want to. Wat has no time for drama and I respect that.

Once the party of five realizes they're now guideless, Max decides the best course of action is to wait for help. Sara wants to try and escape through the ocean view gap nearby, arguing it's probably how the killer fish got in in the first place. Then someone dies and Max changes her plan. Not to what Sara proposed, oh no, that wouldn't do in a silly movie like this. She wants to go through a cave they didn't swim through, hoping the paths are too narrow for the shark. Others die and well, you can see the pattern here.

I'm not against dumb plotting or dumb characters in creature features, but if it decides to give me both, then it better damn well deliver the goods with monster mayhem. Sadly, we get only the briefest glimpse of the euryhaline carnivore. The times it's actually visible, it's clearly generated by computers, and generated poorly. This is also rated PG-13, so the most gore we get is some blood in the water. But come on, why PG-13? It's not like Amazon Prime is going to be ID-checking folks. If a kid really wants to watch this, they're gonna figure out how. Kids are pretty smart, though maybe less so if this is what they seek for entertainment. 

The grotto never becomes a character itself, director Jeff Wadlow has this annoying little habit of shrouding the entire film in near total blackness. Possibly to cover up the lack of decent sets, he zooms the camera up into these awkward closeups that belittle any sense of scale or immersion. I never for a moment believed anyone was in any danger- everyone just looks like soggy actors squatting in a dark swimming pool.

Jackass: Best and Last Review

"Jackass: Best and Last" is doubtfully the last and definitely not the best film in the surprisingly resilient franchise. Much of the same cast returns, including those who only just joined from the previous entry, "Jackass Forever," all up to the same old tricks. People get hit between the legs, shocked by a stungun, covered in poop and generally get all sorts of roughed up. 

You'd better take the subtitle literally, however, because much of the film's runtime are old clips. Some are introduced as "never before seen," but I doubt anyone could tell you with a straight face they hadn't seen this guy get kicked in the gonads this time before.

I never quite understood "Jackass" as a media property. A group of dummies get together and do incredibly dangerous stunts just to laugh at each other during it. But there is an unspoken aura of twisted creativity these skits demand, not to mention blind courage, and after, checks internet, twenty six years, the folks here kinda are running on fumes. By showing new footage with outtakes and scenes from earlier movies, things get a bit more labored.

Take, for example, the moment when "Danger Ehren," "Dave England" and "Wee Man" are suspended by wires in a shoddy play. There's cross-dressing, pineapples thrown and firecrackers, but what's the joke? Are pineapples intrinsically funny?

Maybe it's because these guys are getting old, that there's only so much hammering they can take? But wait, you say, what about all those new young members? They hardly appear in part five. And when they do, it almost always involves electricity or an obese person's butthole.

What the hell am I supposed to say here? Did I laugh? I did, actually, and, against my better judgement, the casts' joyful stupidity is rather infectious. I'm not against potty humor, I was a kid once after all, and even under the facade of an adult, I can willingly enjoy the lesser brows of comedy. "Jackass: Best and Last" might not be the team's best effort, but as a celebration of their idiocy, it scratches that itch we all have in our groins.

Disclosure Day Review

The marketing for Steven Spielberg's latest film, "Disclosure Day," has been nothing short of masterclass. You're left wondering what the film's even about, but then you see it and realize its plot is both somehow too simple and too complicated for its own good.

In short, it's about Daniel, a computer geek turned whistleblower of the US' knowledge, exploitation and coverup of extraterrestrial life. Only there's too many characters and plot-points that I stopped wondering about the amazement of aliens and instead focused on why this person said what they said so cryptically.

Dan is given chase by chief baddie Noah (Colin Firth), who runs the evil Wardex corp., which is sorta-kinda a government entity that it has henchmen all over the country and whose goons can drive recklessly. He needs to make sure the files Dan stole don't leak, though it never seems to occur to anyone that he could have made copies somewhere, but I digress.

Noah also has his eye on Margaret (Emily Blunt), a weatherwoman who suddenly speaks with pops, bubbles and gurgles like a shaken soda bottle. She faints and is taken to the hospital for examination, but she too breaks out when she sees who identify as FBI agents there wanting to ask her questions.

Our villain also wields some sort of alien device, a sort of symmetrical puck that can allow for him to pilot others, as well as appear as a sort of avatar in faraway places. There are three of these devices, one of which Hugo has. Why only three? I surmise that is probably the max amount the audience can keep track of at any given time. These space rocks also enables certain others the ability to turn invisible, power on lights, etc., but how this ties into the greater story isn't ever followed up on.

Then there's the religious parables, where Sister Maura (Elizabeth Marvel) quotes the bible by suggesting that just because god made us on Earth does not necessarily suggest the deity didn't do the same elsewhere. This, the mind-control and extraterrestrial espionage could make for three different films, but there isn't enough time to flesh out any. The film confuses clutter for intelligence.

 

Much of the nebulous exposition comes from Colman Domingo as Hugo, a coworker of Dan who's actively aiding his escape and evidence disclosure. Early on, Dan remarks over the phone to Hugo that he should just dump all the info online; Hugo says not to do that under any circumstance. Why not?! I think it's a pretty good question.

I can't delve into spoiler territory, the film at least deserves that much, but this artifical conflict means we need person A to be found by person B, they both need to do X and Y first, then we need to travel to location 1 and then location 2. Then, and only then, can everyone travel to location 3 before villain 0 gets them.

At first, the slow, drip-feed of plot had me invested, but the movie doesn't make time for all the wonder it introduces. My initial intrigue eventually became frustration, and then finally disenfranchisement.

With the amount of talent behind the camera, you'd think they'd know better. I suppose we need to fit in a car chase, another capture, another escape and a few more close calls for good measure.

I lay much of the blame is on screenwriter David Koepp, who's also penned the aggressively underachieving "Jurassic World Rebirth" last year. There's some rough concepts of characters and an occasionally clever piece of dialogue, but so much is left unsaid for no reason outside misleading the audience. And when it is time for the big finale, you realize he doesn't have anything new to ask about the genre.

But let's move on and talk about another weak point: our protagonist Dan. He's played by Josh O'Connor with all the personality of a doorknob. He lacks chemistry with his failed nun and oft-kidnapped girlfriend Jane (Eve Hewson), and is missing the intensity that a young Richard Dreyfuss displayed effortlessly in a similar kind of picture. His voice remains monotone and disinteresting, and its especially egregious early on when the film jumps between him and Margaret's boyfriend, portrayed by the magnetic Wyatt Russell.

The two males both spend a majority of their time in a bewildered panic, but where as Russell engaged me, O'Connor bored me.

Then there is the xenophobes themselves: their mild screen time is a disappointment. You've seen these exact creatures before. I was hoping for something more alien, and instead, I just got more aliens.

I appreciated "Disclosure Day" more for its ambition, even though it buckles under its own weight. Spielberg's technical ability remains firm throughout, with lense flares and a grand sense of adventure; the soundtrack by his frequent collaborator John Williams is a sight for sore ears. (Or should I saw sound?). I just wish they channeled their energies into a tighter picture.