The Foreigner Review

Tell me if you've heard this plot before: a man's loved one is killed, and he goes on a one-man vendetta to find out who's responsible. Oh- you've heard this plot dozens of times? Well I've seen it more times than that, and "The Foreigner," which casts Jackie Chan against Pierce Brosnan, is a pretty good one. It is a tightly woven little thriller that lifts many scenes from many other movies, but it all works pretty well here. It isn't as good as one would hope, considering the talent on and offscreen, but it works.

Chan plays Ngoc Minh Quan (and yes, I had to Google his name), whose daughter was killed in a bombing by a generic group of goons who call themselves the "Authentic IRA." He pursues Liam Hennessy (Brosnan), a former IRA member now doing something in the British government (I'm guessing it is important too, as he has to pay for two homes, two lady friends, and many more bottles of whisky). Quan believes the former 007 knows more about the bombings than he's telling him (in hat thick brogue), but Hennessy brushes him away as his sordid political past resurfaces and becomes his top priority. This is when the plot becomes nothing more than a "stupid movie character motivation," as even after Quan bombs his office, he still isn't concerned about the so-called "Chinaman."

His disinterest allows Chan to show that he has still got it after all these years, playing wonderfully against type, as he mopes his way from action scene to action scene, playing convincingly a sorrowed former father. Oh, and by the way, he is a retired special forces officer. Because how else could he swing from roof tops and disarm bad guys with sticks and fabric? (I guess they could have tossed in some brief "he's part robot" plotline, but I suppose that'd be ripping off too many movies...)

But we spend a lot of time with Hennessy, who goes half-soused from meeting to cafe to farm house, as he attempts to maintain his numerous connections while pressured even further by the police, his superiors, and his wife, to tell them what he really knows. Most of the movie are scenes like this, intermittently interrupted by Chan's stunt work. I liked these parts more, as the whole political backdrop becomes a bit murky, with double agents, lies- everything we've seen before. We've actually seen all of this before, but it came down to which I'd rather see with a fresh coat of paint- phone calls between men in suits or gritty, hand-to-hand combat?

We all know how this will end, and it ends exactly how it has in every other movie like this (think "Death Wish"), but I was along for the entire ride. Chan and Brosnan are convincing as the dispirited and the "possibly" corrupt politician, and they both command each scene they're in. Walking into a theater to see this was like finding some lost VHS I would have rented in the early 90's, with a few recognizable names, an explosion here and there, one or two love affairs, a handful of terrorists- even a synthesized score! There isn't an ounce of originality here, but as a pedestrian throwback to the gritty action-thrillers of yesteryear, you get what you pay for.

Blade Runner 2049 Review

With so many franchises getting revamped, rebooted, sequeled (or whatever you want to call it), it seems "Blade Runner, the fabulous 1982 financial bomb, couldn't escape Hollywood's greedy grasp. Yet, "Blade Runner 2049" is a better-than-average sequel, set long after the events of the first one- I'm guessing it was cheaper than making CGI Harrison Ford ala Jeff Bridges in "Tron: Legacy."

The plot has us follow K (Ryan Gosling), a "blade runner," or in non-movie terms, a cop who kills outdated replicants. "Replicant?" That is just a fancy term for android (fanboys will argue petty nuances differentiate the two, but I digress). Older model replicants revolted when used as slave labor, but the first movie goes over more of that in detail. Nevertheless, K finds the remains of a female replicant who died of a failed c-section, something which K's superior Lt. Joshi (Robin Wright) fears will cause replicants to demand equal rights (posing the question "does giving life make you human?"). Of course, the film asks a lot of questions, but they go unanswered to service the visuals, which yes, are magnificent, but then again, so were the visuals in the original film. So why a sequel? To be honest, it is more of the same- glorious looking sameness, but same all the same.

The plot eventually takes us to Rick Deckard (Harrison Ford), though his screen time is significantly slimmer than the trailers suggest, but he is always nice to see. Charming but curt, he spends most of his time drinking from marvelous set piece to the next, sharing exposition with Gosling, who stands up fairly well to the legendary actor. Gosling is fine here as replicant K, robotic in response time but not in movement, well, not until the punches need to be thrown.

Deckard has been in hiding ever since the events of the first movie, and it is a rat race for both K and Luv (Sylvia Hoeks), a "bad" replicant working for her manufacturer Wallace (Jared Leto). Sylvia is completely fine here, but Leto unfortunately copies his poor performance as the Joker in "Suicide Squad," only without the facepaint and perhaps a bit more screen time.

While "Blade Runner 2049" is an ambitious orgy of spectacle, it is not an action film, no matter what the trailer implies. It asks questions for which it provides no answers to, and takes its time moving from one inquiry to the next. At 163 minutes, this is a long picture- sure, I can't recall a movie that dedicated itself so unbridledly to its visuals as this one, but there is about twenty minutes of fat to this otherwise entertaining parade of eye candy; sterile, nonplussing eye candy. I admire the film's technical achievements, but there is little else to recommend here.

Cult of Chucky Review

Sometimes a movie, devoid of intelligence and logic, is one of the most entertaining films all year. "Cult of Chucky" is one such flick. Going direct to video allowed the filmmakers to show gallons of blood for sheer sleezy exploitation, and I cheered every moment of it. I don't admire it's beliefs, but it's dedication to its craft is commendable- just be prepared to see in detail how far they take such craft.

Picking up after the events of 2013's "Curse of Chucky," we follow Nica (Fiona Dourif) as she transfers from a mental institution to a "medium security" one- in the world of the "Chucky" movies, that simply means that there are no cameras and is severely understaffed (which makes sense, considering that either of the two would have prevented much of the bloodshed). She, of course, still believes that the titular doll is responsible for the events of its predecessor, to which no one listens, and when the bodies hit the floor, people still don't listen. Stop me if you have heard this plot before. But its brilliance is in its simplicity, or rather, that the story is threadbare so not to get in the way of creative ways people are dispensed. One of my favorites involves the arm of- well, actually, I had better not spoil it for you.

Of course, Dr. Foley (Michael Therriault) thinks that bringing in a "Good Guy" doll, the brand name of the toy in the franchise, would be a good idea during therapy, just in case you were wondering how the doll gets into the hospital (though the film makes bigger leaps in logic, so I'm surprised they even bothered with an explanation here).

To call the characters as thin as paper would be an insult to handy writing equipment, all your usual suspects in a film taking place much inside an insane asylum, but the acting is top-shelf, or at least never boring. Everyone is over the top but convincing, from a murderous mother to a debauched doctor, and the film never flinches from displaying just how nutty these people are. (A nice touch is the blood stain on the mommy's blouse after she breastfeeds- actually, let me just stop myself from actually finishing that sentence. I would need to take a shower if I did.)

Among the small cast includes Tiffany Valentine (Jennifer Tilly), a fan-favorite who tosses another Chucky doll into the mix when she visits Nica. She tells her that she is the legal guardian of Alice, Nica's niece, and that she has died. She says that Alice would have wanted her to have the doll. Devotees know her true motivations.

But wait, there is more! More of what? Why, there is yet another Chucky puppet, this time from Andy (Alex Vincent), reprising his role from the first two movies in the series (as well as a cameo in the last film). But I'm getting too nitpicky about the plot- just know that there is three times the killer-doll-carnage.

How can there be three Chuckies when franchise lore (is there even such a thing?) if the original doll is possessed by the soul of Charles Lee Ray, as explained in the first film? Well you see there is voodoo (how the soul initially found its way into the toy), which eventually gets into Nica's body, allowing her to walk (even though she's born a paraplegic and her legs would be too weak to hold her weight- but I don't know...). Nothing makes sense here, but it is ninety one minutes of sheer insanity, no pun intended. "Cult of Chucky" won't convert those who didn't enjoy the previous six films, but it is amazingly trashy, and wholly entertaining. And I guess that was all I wanted the day I watched this.