Fear Street: Prom Queen Review

I am not above the cheap thrills of exploitation films- the sight of blood spewing from a creative kill just tickles the little sicko in me. And the nudity! I mean, I didn't say I was proud to say I looked on at the sight of cinema's cheapest special effect. What I can't get behind is a film that chooses these tawdry elements out of blind nostalgia instead of having a vision of its own. "Fear Street: Prom Queen" is unfortunately one of these cases.

And there isn't even any nudity! What a tease!

It's too bad, because the bloody mayhem is done quite decent, a far cry from the repugnant gore of "Terrifier 3," but you see no less than two hands chopped off from a paper trimmer, an arm detached thanks to the swing of an ax, an impaling, among others. But there's no love for the craft on display- take, for example, when a side-character is electrocuted, their body just shakes and, well, that's it. Their head doesn't explode, there's no foaming at the mouth, just some convulsions and the filmmakers called it a day! At one point on the wall of Megan's room  you can see a poster for the 1979 classic "Zombi 2" a movie whose creators truly understood how to film a death. This is no "Zombi 2."

Wait, sorry, who's Megan? The girl played by Suzanna Son. Who's that? Oh right, the plot, there's gotta be a plot to all this right? There is, in the loosest sense of the word. See, Megan is an outcast and best friends with fellow outcast Lori Granger (India Fowler), but while Megan is content with her horror movies and drawing, Lori wants more. In particular, she wants jock Tyler (David Iacono), who is currently dating the infinitely more popular Tiffany (Fina Strazza). 

Oh, and to be prom queen; this ain't "Fear Street: How to Steal a Boyfriend," though it might as well be.

Anyway, Lori also has to contest with her family history: it's explained (far too late in the runtime, I might add) that her parent's prom was canceled after her father was found dead. Everyone suspects that her mother Rose (Joanne Boland) killed him, but it couldn't be proven. Lori's got her work cut out if she's ever going to win, especially on prom night itself, when bodies start piling up.

Most of the brisk ninety some odd minute runtime takes place during the actual senior grade event, and all the obligatory high school scenes happen, from couples fighting to the mean girl losing her friends, all handled with the subtly and grace of an episode of Degrassi. That isn't a jab at the young actors, who all play their parts well enough, but that the script by cowritten by Donald McLeary and director Matt Palmer has nothing new to say about students that isn't a cliche. Not to mention what on earth two dudes know about the pains of young women, but let's not bring that up.

What I should probably bring up is how the action takes place in 1988, though aside from a few establishing shots of old cars and the prom's playlist, you'd never really tell. Even the outfits and hairstyles only occasionally look vintage; this might as well have taken place today and just called an "80's prom." But whatever. I'm getting pretty nitpicky here because I was pretty bored.

This boredom grew to irritation when I watched the same logical errors happen that plagued the films this inspired; adults mysteriously disappear when needed, characters disregard how several teenagers have gone missing, that sort of thing. Another logistical issue? Lori's mom, who's shown at the beginning to be a cop, is not there at the end when the police are finally called to her daughter's school after the rampage. Tsk, those latchkey parents.

I suppose I should commend the lack of false jump scares, but then again, that may have woken me as I began to nod off. At least I think I did, I mean, at least I finished my box of candy.

"Fear Street: Prom Queen" wants to recreate the slasher films from decades ago, but despite all the blood we see, it doesn't come from the heart- it comes from the special effects department.

Mission: Impossible - The Final Reckoning Review

With a pre-recorded message from star and producer Tom Cruise thanking the audience for seeing the eighth and purportedly final entry in the long-running "Mission: Impossible" series, subtitled "The Final Reckoning," I sat with eagerness as the lights dimmed and waited for that familiar franchise tune, ready to grip my reclining chair's armrest in excitement.  I thought to myself that this would be the film that concluded Daniel Craig's run as Bond should have been, I mean, the two aren't all that different. Both are similarly the main actor's "last time" in the competing action spy series, both dealing with "the end of the world" while tying all the loose ends into as pretty a little knot as possible. Instead, it was "No Time to Die" all over again, only somehow longer, with fewer action scenes and without the narrative courage.

For nearly three hours, its large and aging cast stand around in exotic locations (ranging from the US to England to South Africa) speaking about how crazy Ethan Hunt's (Cruise) plan is. What's his plan, you ask? What's the plot? Well, there is this evil AI named "the Entity" that is using misinformation to recruit people from all over the world to infiltrate "all levels" of military and government, eventually taking control of nuclear missiles, wiping out the population. 

I guess the idea is that its followers would rebuild the world after, but if the bombs do go off, then all the computers "the Entity" needs to rule its people would be blown to smithereens, unless AI is patient enough to wait for humans to civilize again to the point in which they can build computers. That's some really considerate code right there.

Then there's the issue of how all the people of all different countries would communicate, considering the language barriers, but I digress, I'm sure "the Entity" comes upgraded with auto-translate. (Or how about the issue of physical travel, assuming all the planes, boats and cars would be piles of rubble- you know what, it doesn't matter.)

Anyway, what "the Entity" wants to do is less pressing than the film's villain Gabriel, played by Esai Morales, whose plan is to control it and therefore control the world. (Or something.) But first he needs to infect it with a computer virus created by Ethan's old pal Luther (Ving Rhames), which he acquires early on thanks to plot. But that's not all; he also needs "the Entity's" source code, somewhere on a sunken Russian submarine of unknown coordinates, which is where Hunt comes into things. 

This is a problem right here, as subs rarely make for a good time at the movies, looking more like floating potatoes during outside shots. It doesn't help that 1999's Bond film "The World is Not Enough" also extensively featured scenes of a Russian sub, and is a far slicker and satisfying action spy thriller.

There's more story, of course, ranging from shady government officials to the President of America herself (Angela Bassett) and while none of it is terribly complicated, every plot point is explained in lengthy detail, sometimes with flashbacks but other times with clips of scenes yet to play, surrounded by plenty of Tom Cruise running in a straight line. It all feels like needless padding to its already bloated runtime.

You know you're in trouble when there's only one good scene, its tentpole action sequence featured not only in its trailers but also some of its damn posters; the only surprising thing is how everything else is so boring. Maybe its Tom's age (he's in his sixties, don't cha know?), but this "big summer blockbuster" cheaps out by not showing its star actually fight, and not just once- twice! One time, a nameless guard rips off a mask after the fisticuffs to show its actually him, and the other time, the camera pans away to the sounds of punching, smashing and killing, Tom seen panting with some blood on his shirt next to two dead bodies. 

According to my friend the interwebs, "Mission: Impossible - The Final Reckoning" was very (very very very) expensive to make, so to leave the viewer feeling cheated is a cinematic sin I cannot forgive and won't forget; making a good movie itself was apparently the real mission: impossible.

Final Destination Bloodlines Review

Watching "Final Destination Bloodlines" in a relatively rowdy theater, the one with the biggest screen I could find, seemed to have clouded my judgement. This sixth film in the series, all of which are unseen by me, has plot holes so big you can fit a plane, logging truck, roller coaster, race car and bridge through, yet I found myself caught up in its vile little game of sadistic manipulation. It's the horror version of "The Naked Gun," where your eyes need to dart around the screen, only instead of trying to find jokes, you are trying to locate clues as to how secondary character X will die in an elaborate and gruesome way.

Kaitlyn Santa Juana plays Stefani, a college student on academic probation; she can't get any sleep because of the same, reoccurring nightmare; she sees a young couple back in the 60's get engaged and find out their expecting, only for them and hundreds more to die a most graphic death atop a Space Needle-like restaurant on its opening night. Instead of seeking therapy or perhaps a campus counselor, she decides to ask her divorced dad (Tinpo Lee) about her estranged grandma, since the lady in her dreams both share the name: Iris. This leads her to seek out her aunt (April Telek) and uncle (Alex Zahara), who caution her that the real Iris is a dangerous old woman. As the script by Guy Busick and Lori Evans Taylor wants to avoid getting our poor protagonist any actual help by someone trained in sleep (or even family) discord, she sets off to locate her mother's mother, who's barricaded herself deep in the woods from what looks like a zombie apocalypse.

There she meets Iris, played by Gabrielle Rose, a suspicious grandma with frazzled hair and crackly skin that no amount of Gold Bond could help. Not having left her cabin in decades, she bemoans that she's suffering from cancer. If you are wondering how she knows that if she's been a hermit for so long, the film later tries to offer an explanation by way of the late Tony Todd in a cameo, but it doesn't take a doctor to know you need a doctor for both the diagnoses and treatment, but I digress. She tells Stefani that her dream is exactly the same premonition she had all those years ago, and in a fit of panic was able to stop the ominous omen from happening. But, she warns, that her actions got in death's way, and death does not like that (hence this being film number six); throughout the years, death came for everyone who was supposed to die that day, as well as their families (who wouldn't exist had the person die in the first place). Now just Iris lives, and if death comes for her, it'll come for her children, then grandchildren, until it effectively undoes her heroic actions.

This all freaks out Stefani, who tries leaving but is forced to take Iris' "book," where she outlines all she knows about death. But then one of the series' famous kills happens, and that's all that it takes for her to believe the paranoid old matron. The rest of the family doesn't believe her, of course, because there wouldn't be much of a movie if they did, not to mention none of the imaginative assassinations.

Now this is where I found myself enjoying myself beyond reasoning; you'd see the camera focus briefly on a "tip risk" warning stuck on a vending machine, so you sit in anticipation for the execution. And then you feel the side of your lips curl in bizarre amusement when the snuff surprises you with an unexpected twist. Most of the kills are like this, as faces are crushed, bodies unnaturally bent, and so on. The camera lusts over the bloody bodies like any good exploitation film should, using its reported fifty million dollar budget on creative and intricate ways to show people meeting their violent end.

And unlike last year's "Terrifier 3," this film at least has the guts, pun intended, to show children getting killed onscreen. I'm again not for the cinematic depiction of slaughtering kids, but if your gory franchise is really only famous for their complicated death scenes, then don't go writing young ones into the script!

So I sat in sick delight until the credits rolled, and then as I lifted my excited body from the reclining leather chair, all the giant gaps in logic started to set. Characters leave crime scenes without police intervention; in fact we never see the cops involved despite one single family having multiple mutilations what seems like every day. Or what about how death is supposedly smart enough to know who someone is, where they'll be and how to off them, but not wise to a mid-story twist that should remove them from this death game? Or how death doesn't know a medical technicality a doctor would? Or how about- you know what, it doesn't matter. I enjoyed "Final Destination Bloodlines" for what it is; with Hollywood's recent love affair with belated entries in forgotten franchises of the genre, this is the best one since 2022's "Orphan: First Kill." I enjoyed this movie while watching it, just not thinking about it.

Exterritorial Review

Netflix's "Exterritorial," imported from Germany, is all setup and no payoff. It takes a cliche, a parent who's kid goes missing, and runs wild, only to realize it has nowhere to go.

Jeanne Goursaud stars as Sara Wulf, a war veteran suffering obviously from PTSD after surviving an attack in Afghanistan years ago. And wouldn't you know it, she had just had a little fling with a fellow soldier, which you know means she's now pregnant. She later gives birth to Josh (Rickson Guy da Silva), but her baby's daddy didn't make it through the battle.

Anyway, the dad was American, and after getting a job offer from the states, Sara and Josh head to the US consulate to try and start a new life. After a few hours of waiting, Josh gets restless and the already stressed Sara drops him off for a moment in the "play area" until their number is called. It's called but, uh-oh, he's nowhere to be found, no doubt sending her into a frenzy.

It's a lot of plot but fortunately all this is about ten minutes; this has all the goods of any taunt little thriller. Erik Kynch, played with empathy and a funny little mustache by Dougray Scott, assures Sara that they'll find little Josh. Anyone who's ever seen a movie like this knows that that won't happen, at least not that easily, and, no spoilers, but it doesn't.

Due to plot, Sara is detained by security but escapes, thanks no doubt to "her file" showing that she's "trained in hand to hand combat," because of course it is, convinced that Mr. Scott and associates not only know more than they're letting on, but actually have him. Why, she has no idea, but then again, could it be her PTSD? This suspicion is what I like most about "Exterritorial."

While she explores this labyrinthine facility, she stumbles into a woman who claims her name is Irina (Lera Abova), living in one of the building's apartments for reasons veiled only by plot. Carrying a flashdrive, Irina begs Sara to help her escape if she helps locate Josh, and their relationship, though built on circumstance and lies, is kinda sweet. Unfortunately I can't in good-faith say anything else about the narrative.

The action is good, containing everything in claustrophobic hallways for probably budgetary reasons, but it helps ground everything in realism; this helps when the story is so goofy when you stop to think about it. And for awhile, you don't, because by forcing the actors in a single, albeit large, location, it builds a level of tension as a potential baddy walks by the two girls in a crowded cafeteria.

I mean, I know they won't, but by raising the possibility that all this espionage could be in her head, you never know for 100% certain which way the film will go. But it all goes off rails once writer/director Christian Zübert answers that question, and I am unsatisfied not only with his answer but also how he answers it; he introduces physiological-thriller elements only to devolve into your standard action-thriller.

And then, the cinematic icing on the cake if you will, he ruins what should be an interesting climax, set in a safe room deep on the property, by self-indulging on laborious exposition. So by this point you realize everything that happened could only happen if Sara got herself that cup of coffee. Pure coincidence! Squandering a decent idea only to settle on genre conventions; this is an example on how not to cross "Taken" with "Die Hard." Yippee Ki Yay, or I will find you.

Havoc Review

Writer/director Gareth Evans' "Havoc" is a lumbering pile of genre stereotypes- corrupt cops, drug dealing and foreign organized crime syndicates, rescued occasionally by random bursts of extreme violence.

Tom Hardy stars as Walker, a detective who looks like he hasn't showered in days or brushed his teeth in weeks, who's introduced regretting all the crooked decisions he's made. He's a lousy father, an even worse husband to his estranged wife, and, on yeah, might have killed an undercover cop making some extra dough for Forest Whitaker's Beaumont, a mayor-to-be.

Whitaker has a thankless role here, walking around in a suit that looks about one size too small as he learns his son Charlie (Justin Cornwell) and his girlfriend Mia (Quelin Sepulveda) are the prime suspects in a shootout with their town's friendly neighbor Triad. At least, that's what the only surviving surveillance footage suggests. We the audience knows they were simply delivering some cocaine they stole for Tsui (Jeremy Ang Jones), as does Walker (a classic case of being "at the wrong place at the wrong time"), but everyone else will only learn once the plot demands. But I digress.

Actually there's a bit more- the young lovers were actually chased by the police, which resulted in a washing machine being tossed out, critically injuring a cop in the process. He's rushed to the hospital, of course, but in "Ye Old Book of Action Movie Cliches," you never want to be the one left recovering in the ICU.

Tsui is killed during the shootout, which really ticks off his mom (Yeo Yann Yann), who blames Charlie and kidnaps Beaumont to try and find him. He's abducted during broad daylight, sitting in traffic as armed men and women strut along with their guns free for everyone to see; when firearms go "boom," the police are nowhere to be found. In a scene I suppose is intended to be thrilling, it ends up being unbelievable and unexciting.

This happens throughout: later on, when a man pulls out a gun, slowly attaches a silences, while on  security camera, face completely visible. What is the plan here?!

The plot gradually becomes more complicated, involving Timothy Olyphant as Vincent, another bent cop, a secluded location in the woods, etc., but I found myself checking how much longer I had left. That is not the sign of a very good movie.

Everyone fires guns like an arcade game, shooting bullet after bullet even as blood errupts from nameless henchman number #2 and their body dramatically flings back. And in the grand "Stormtrooper" tradition, aside from our heroes, nobody can seem to actually hit anyone, save for a flesh wound here and there. Once you learn the pattern, any suspense dissipates into the streaming ether.

And then there are the scenes outside grungy clubs, hideouts or police stations, where cars, trucks and trains have all the grace and physics of an old video game cutscene. It's a distraction saved only be releasing on Netflix instead of in theaters.

Unfortunately, bad effects aren't the only visual issue here: the editing is egregious, scenes cut and spliced so chaotically that it's often hard to get a sense of what's happening. The camera whips around like if "John Wick" was filmed for TikTok.

Oh, it's worth mentioning that this takes place during holiday time, despite releasing late April. They could have at least delayed it and improved the awful CGI, but it looks like The Grinch stole Christmas early this year.