Category Archives: 2012

2010s, 2012, A, Action, Adventure, Grade, Marvel, Past, Review, review-movie, Science Fiction, Superhero, Year

Film Review: The Avengers – 2012

January 27, 2022 The Critic Leave a comment

Director(s)	Joss Whedon
Principal Cast	Robert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark / Iron Man Chris Evans as Steve Rogers / Captain America Tom Hiddleston as Loki Samuel L. Jackson as Nick Fury Mark Ruffalo as Bruce Banner / Hulk Chris Hemsworth as Thor Scarlett Johansson as Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow Jeremy Renner as Clint Barton / Hawkeye
Release Date	2012
Language(s)	English
Running Time	143 minutes
Report Card	Click to go to Review TLDR/Summary

Marvel title card.

Marvel title card dissolves in the flames of the Tesseract.

A hooded figure narrates to an unseen usurper.

The opening sets the stage for what’s to come. The title card dissolves into the Tesseract which becomes the focal point of the sequence. There’s a universal scope in this story as we see alien figures plotting an invasion of the Earth in search of the cosmic cube. The rhythmic fades to black create a foreboding effect and as the camera pushes into the Tesseract, it becomes clear that intergalactic conflict is coming.

The title sequence starts with the Marvel logo prominently in the center of the screen. The camera pulls back from the logo which becomes encompassed by blue flames, flames which are revealed to be the core of the Tesseract, the cosmic item recovered by S.H.I.E.L.D in Captain America: The First Avenger. The screen fades to black.

A voice mentions that the “Tesseract has awakened” on Earth. The camera pans up an elaborate, alien staircase where a hooded creature bows to an unseen figure. The creature, the narrator from earlier, continues and claims that an informant who is intimately aware with the cube will claim it for them. The screen fades to black.

The informant in question is handed a glowing scepter. Another fade to black.

Then an army of armored alien creatures, the Chituari, start to roar as the narrator guarantees that the informant will take the Earth as compensation for retrieving the cube, using the army of Chituari to take control. Upon retrieving the cube, the unseen figure will rule the universe. A final fade to black.

Once again, the Tesseract takes center stage and the camera starts to push into it. This is an opening that makes it clear from the get-go: The Avengers is more epic than the films that came before. The rhythmic fades to black induce a sense of a grandiose force building up. The alien world and set-piece confirms that this story is taking place against a much grander backdrop. As the camera pushes in through the Tesseract, to the planet of Earth it becomes clear that worlds are going to collide.

Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) and Clint (Jeremy Renner) talk about the Tesseract.

A S.H.I.E.L.D base is being evacuated as a helicopter arrives at the facility. Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) steps out and begins to head into the building that everyone else is running out of. He runs down to the testing facility overseen by Dr. Selvig (Stellan Skarsgård) where tests are being run on the Tesseract. Selvig explains that Tesseract is active and is taking action of its own accord, setting off fluctuations and discharges as it pleases. Clint (Jeremy Renner), the agent overseeing the experiments, tells Fury that any disruption on display is not due to any party on “this” side. Suddenly, it becomes clear. If the Tesseract is a doorway, then it reasons that it can be opened from two sides. One side might be on Earth, but the other side is somewhere else entirely and is raring to invade the planet.

On cue, the Tesseract discharges a bright blue light, opening a portal to another location. The informant from earlier makes their appearance in spectacular fashion, completely shifting the feeling of the room. We cut to a close-up and learn that this intruder is none other than Loki (Tom Hiddleston), Thor’s (Chris Hemsworth) brother who we had been led to believe was dead at the end of Thor. The questions begin to pile up: How did Loki survive? Who hired him? Why do they want the Tesseract so badly?

Loki takes control of Clint (Jeremy Renner) using the scepter.

But Loki’s not concerned with giving any answers, and he quickly takes charge of the situation, blasting agents with his scepter and laying waste to the highly, secure government building. He turns his scepter to both Selvig and Clint’s chests and takes control of their minds; they switch allegiances immediately. Fury is easily handled and the Tesseract is stolen from the premises but not before the cube releases one last burst of energy, destroying the facility in its entirety.

For the first time in the franchise, Fury is thoroughly trounced and left beaten. He declares an emergency and tells his agents to begin looking for the cube. Loki’s attack means that the world is now at war and needs to prepare. One of his subordinates, Agent Coulson (Clark Gregg), asks what they can hope to do. The Avengers theme starts to play in the background as the title card drops as a response. Fury’s answer is a given: it’s time to assemble to the Avengers, a task force made up of individuals capable of mounting a resistance to forces that conventional might cannot stand up against.

But far from being a solution to the Loki problem, creating the Avengers brings about a whole host of other issues for Fury because the rag-tag set of individuals he seeks to have work together are far from cooperative. Given the persons that Fury wants to involve with the project, namely the heroes of the previous Marvel films, it’s easy to see how problems could stack up. Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) is a ego-maniac who can’t help but demonstrate just how smart he is. Bruce Banner (Mark Ruffalo) of is a man so afraid of himself that he’d rather live his life as a wanderer than be near people and risk harming them as the Hulk. Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) is a man haunted by the loss of his past and is desperate to do anything to numb those sensations. Thor might be fond of the Earth but his priorities lay with Asgard and its people. Natasha Romanoff (Scarlett Johansson) only shows true loyalty to Fury and is more than willing to pull one over on people to achieve any given mission. Meanwhile, Clint Barton is compromised and controlled by Loki.

Balancing these personalities isn’t easy, but director Joss Whedon successfully manages to plot a narrative course that lets the characters bounce off each other authentically. The characters act as we would expect them to given their previous cinematic depictions; the fun emerges from watching the sparks between the characters we know and love getting to experience the same level of familiarity with one another. It’s clear that the actors are enjoying themselves and play off one another seamlessly, so it’s hard not to get invested in the burgeoning friendships. As bonds begin to form between members at a more personal and at a larger ensemble level, the various narrative threads from the previous films start to make sense as a larger puzzle. The group feels less a collection of arbitrarily selected heroes and more like a naturally forming assemblage. Consequently, even when the technical maneuverings of the plot feel outlandish, the energy on display by the key players ensures that no moment remains dull. This is a narrative that knows how to keep a steady hand on the momentum and keep the viewer engaged.

The film’s formula is so effective that it’s effectively served as the de-facto template of the franchise ever since. A story of a diverse group learning to work together maps well with the depths of the Marvel Universe, offering any minor character from a previous film a chance to reprise a more important, embellished role in a future entry. Learning to fight together means that the narrative can be built around multiple fight set-pieces; have the heroes get a minor win, then suffer a loss of sorts, before finally coming together and achieving a victory of sorts. Progression can be clearly marked and delineated which makes character arcs easier to notice and subsequently appreciate.

Yet, The Avengers remains unique even after a decade filled with films taking inspiration from its formula because there’s an earnest enthusiasm in its construction. Long one takes and extensive use of spectator reactions to the spectacles gives the film a distinctive visual identity that many other entries in the franchise are missing. The characters also all have a distinct sense of personality; they’re not all quipsters, so when characters like Tony make a snarky remark, those moments register because they operate in contrast to otherwise “straight” dialogue. This makes the humor hit harder and the serious events linger for a moment of reflection. While the seams sometimes crop up – an inevitability given the film’s duty in patching together every previous Marvel entry – concerns regarding them melt away due to the sense of wonder and enthusiasm on display.

REPORT CARD

TLDR	Even a decade after it’s release, The Avengers still entertains due to the spontaneous and organic way it mixes the founding Marvel cinematic characters and their respective story threads. The foundational super-hero ensemble film demonstrates that any character can find new purpose if helmed in another story and that characters from seemingly different, developed worlds can come together in a coherent manner in which the sum is greater than the parts. The film’s ambition has paid off multiple-fold, establishing the basis of the largest cinematic franchise the world has seen to date.
Rating	9.0/10
Grade	A

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2010s, 2012, A+, Art House, Crime, Drama, Grade, Review, review-movie, Year

Review: Spring Breakers

January 1, 2021 The Critic Leave a comment

Director(s)	Harmony Korine
Principal Cast	James Franco as Alien Selena Gomez as Faith Vanessa Hudgens as Candy Ashley Benson as Brit Rachel Korine as Cotty Gucci Mane as Archie
Release Date	2012
Language(s)	English
Running Time	93 minutes

The movie opens with excess as the title credits splash onto the screen. Neon colors and stylized letters give an indication of the story to come.

The title card is a sign of things to come – normal letters that feel like so much more due to the neon infused colors and stylization. Spring Break is elevated into something that seems exceptionally beautiful.

Synth dance music starts to play as a montage depicting the festivities of spring break start to play. The camera leers at the debauchery – moving over the bodies of young 20 somethings fully embracing the pleasures associated with the season. Crotch grabbing, ass shaking, flashing the camera, a litany of phallic behavior (talk about Freudian) from fellating popsicles to jerking off beer bottles – it’s all a proclamation that this drive to enjoyment is the law of the land.

Phallic behavior is the name of the game at the sunny beaches of Florida as young women suck on popsicles suggestively while young men feed the former booze from beer cans positioned over their crotches. In a Freudian sense, this represents the symbolic law of the land has transformed. The only ethical injection is to enjoy and give in to hedonism.

This excitement is interrupted as the movie cuts to a suburban area – a college campus that’s boring and drab compared to what came before. We move to a classroom filled with bright, neon screens coloring the space. The professor at the head of room starts to talk about the Double V campaign – a slogan used during World War II to tie the fight against fascism abroad to the fight against racism at home. Despite serving in the troops, African Americans were still treated as sub-humans in their homeland of America. This discussion on the nature of race’s relation to the American dream and its ideological stronghold is ignored as the camera moves to two girls, Candy and Brit, who are more focused their upcoming spring break-cation. The plight and suffering of African Americans is drowned out by Candy performing mock fellatio on a drawn out penis that says “Spring Break Bitch”.

Candy (Vanessa Hudgens) ignores the discussion of the pervading antiblackness that haunts the history of America in favor of pretending to blow a penis representing Spring Break. This is a tie in to the earlier phallic endorsement of Spring Break and represents the way the drive for “new” pleasure is used to displace the call for justice.

This displacement is no coincidence. It’s a reminder to us that the anti-blackness that was started in the United States with slavery and plantations still persists – lingering in the background – an undercurrent to Americana that is constantly ignored and shoved aside.

The professor’s lecture drowns out and turns into the voice of a youth pastor trying to amp up a group of young Christians. In this circle of religious adherents is the aptly named Faith, a young women who’s dissatisfied with the seemingly boring goings of her everyday life. As the group says “Amen” together in hypnotic and repetitive fashion, the camera cuts to Brit drinking booze out of a squirt gun with a poster of Lil Wayne behind her. A black rapper and pop idol watching the young white women drinking alcohol from a gun – the gun as a tool of violence turns into one of pleasure as pop stars are respectively turned into idols which are to be consumed. The blackness of the star in question is not a coincidence – like the labor of African Americans during WWII, the cultural work done by this community is consumed without abandon without regard for the creators.

Brit (Ashley Benson) squirts alcohol into her mouth from a gun. On top of reinforcing the phallic imagery, the transformation of the gun as a tool to kill to a tool to deliver alcohol showcases the ties between violence and pleasure. The figure of a black rapper in the background is no coincidence. In a world where pop idols are “Gods” and blackness is consumes as a product, Lil Wayne becomes emblematic of the way pop culture is created by black people and coopted by others.

The movie cuts back to Faith, who informs her Church friends that she’s excited to go Florida with Candy, Brit, and their other friend Cotty to celebrate Spring Break. The three party girls make their way to Faith to make sure they have enough money for their upcoming vacation. Unfortunately, the girls realize they don’t have enough. This depression manifests itself in the color of their surroundings – blue hallways, blue rooms, and a blue ambiance. The blue normalcy that surrounds them is unbearable and they have to get away. They need to find themselves and awaken in a spiritual fashion that’s” impossible” to do in their current location. It’s at this point that Candy, Brit, and Cotty make plans to steal the money they need. They drive down a yellow road. Like the road Dorothy travels in Oz this is a path to transformation and change. The whole time a voiceover from Candy and Brit repeats over and over like the “Amen”‘s from before- “Just pretend like it’s a video game” , “Act like you’re in a movie or something” – an updated mantra for the new age. If pop culture and pleasure are the new Gods in this incarnation of the American Dream, then this repetition is the prayer adherents must believe to survive. They go into a local restaurant and steal from the unsuspecting patrons- emerging at the bright red exit. Finally, their journey can start.

The girls make their way down a yellow road to go from their boring dreary lives marked my a neon blue to escape to new and better pastures marked by a neon red. The colors not only make their burglary pop but represent their “spiritual” journey.

They make their way to Florida and the party begins. The girls lose themselves in the spring break assemblage as the images become hyper saturated, letting bodies blend into one another. To be one with spring break is to give oneself fully to pleasure. In this “new” world, all that matters is how far one’s willing to go to get what they want. There’s a newfound agency as the girl’s engage in the same debauchery as their male counterparts. They’re sexualized by the camera, but they embrace it and grab the pleasure bull by its horns. It’s during their escapades that they run into Alien – a white rapper with dreads who traps as his main form of currency. He takes pride in both “being out of this world” and being the only white boy in a black neighborhood. He loves the American Dream which as he explains is all about making change and acquiring more and more.

This is Spring Breakers – an introspective look into the transformed American dream, one that prioritizes material growth at the cost of everything else. The only ethical injunction is to enjoy pleasures to the max. However, this pleasure is nothing more than a pretty picture that covers up the emptiness at the heart of endless hedonism. When the girls are living their lives back home they watch tv, they drink to excess, they smoke weed, they go to house parties, they mess around with each other. When they go on Spring Break, they quite literally participate in the same behavior – it’s just ratcheted up higher and with more dazzling colors. All their spiritual awakening really amounts to is putting a nice filter over their everyday behavior – something that Korine quite literally demonstrates through the replication of certain shots under different lighting. The blue drab lighting that they do despised gives way to a bright red neon hue that demonstrates that it’s only their ideological investment in the idea of spring break as spiritual praxis that makes it so as opposed to the activities they engage in.

The girls do the same things whether it be at home or in Florida during spring break. This is made obvious with the repetition in shot selection. In both areas they have fun and relax by doing hand stands; however, they enjoy the experience more in Florida because they think spring break makes it magically superior. It’s an ideological investment that transforms the mundane into something special despite there being no material change in what’s going on. The change of colors from the boring and dreary blue to the exciting and vibrant red signifies that this is all about ideology.

In the background is the specter of African Americans- like the plantations and buildings they built centuries ago they have created the the pop culture that the young masses can’t get enough of. However, just like the fruits of their labors on the plantations and the respect /rights they deserved for fighting in World War II, their efforts are once again coopted by the system. They put in the work, but they receive very little if any of the fruits of their labor- relegated to the periphery constantly. From the professor’s early lectures to the constant imagery of black entertainment being consumed and emulated by young white 20 somethings , their presence is always felt.

While the subject matter is disgusting and excessive in the vein of John Waters, the presentation definitely reminds me of Terrence Malick. There’s immense attention given to compositions (there are multiple shots in the movie that feel like they could be wall art/post cards) and using lighting as mise en scène. Blue is dreary normalcy, yellow is change and transformation, while red is the promise of spring break – the heart of the American Dream. The colors permeate through every shot, giving the movie a visual splendor while tying the elements together thematically. The editing is elliptical and features a healthy dose of voiceovers. Lines of dialogue are presented in an almost innocent way to start – a promise of good things, but then are repeated again to reveal the true depravity of the situation at hand. On top of revealing the duplicity of spring break , the repetition of lines creates an hypnotic feeling that fully immerses you in the world. The movie is vapid and deceptive, but that doesn’t stop it from being beautiful and poetic in its own way. It’s beautiful to look and hypnotizing to listen to with very little underneath in terms of plot perfectly tying form to theme.

Complimenting this structure and the movies themes are the performances by the cast. Given the movie’s celebration of pop culture as idolatry, the casting of both Selena Gomez and Vanessa Hudgens, two former Disney super stars, is more than apt and sets the movie up for success. Each member of our main cast of heroines demonstrates a different level of comfort with the transformed American Dream. Gomez constantly gives off an disconcerted feeling that she quickly disguises with faux happiness representing Faith’s conflict in embracing hedonism over her spiritual roots. Rachel Korine is constantly having fun and gives herself to the party scene fully showcasing Cotty’s desire to just have a good time. Both Hudgens and Benson express sheer ecstasy at the situation highlighting how how Candy and Brit respectively don’t care about anything than enjoying their experience, no matter how debauched it threatens to get. In particular, Benson showcases a cold danger in her eyes , demonstrating the cutthroat disposition one must have to succeed in the “new” America. Franco brings a surprising amount of depth to a white rapper who drops the n-word from the way he gleefully engages with the girls to the way he constantly has a disconcerted look that occasionally comes through in his eyes. His cover of Britney Spear’s “Everytime” in the latter half of the movie is heartfelt and touching in the most off-putting way possible, perfectly encapsulating everything Alien and the movie is about – celebrating the drive to pleasure and material goods as the end all be all.

It’s not surprising to see the low ratings for the movie : a 5.3 on IMDB, 67% on Rotten Tomatoes, 63 on Metacritic. Those looking for an believable crime story with traditional storytelling are going to feel betrayed by what they get. On top of this, the editing of scenes feels disjointed and fragmented while the repetitive voiceovers can feel lazy and just like an excuse to pad the run time. However, these criticisms miss the point. It’s not that the movie isn’t empty at it’s core. It definitely is. That’s the point. The emptiness is used to point out that way the ideologies we currently subscribe to are empty and vapid. The ideals we cling to are not only built on a bed of anti-blackness, but amount to nothing more than a nihilistic drive towards pleasure. If this famous clip of Spring Breaker in 2020 proves anything, it’s that Korine’s vision and analysis should be treated more seriously. What says hedonistic destruction more than Spring Breakers willing to get corona just to experience their long awaited festivities?

REPORT CARD

TLDR	In what can only be described as Terrence Malick directing a John Waters movie, Korine’s Spring Breakers is one part a celebration of excessive hedonism and superficiality, another part an elevation of pleasure seeking to a form of spirituality, and at it’s core an simultaneous indictment and valorization of the duplicity of the American Dream. The elliptical editing, use of repetition in lines, constant voiceovers, and bright and saturated compositions are intoxicating and transport the viewer into a world of excess that feels empty at its core. Though the movie might seem vapid at first go, it tackles a host of issues from antiblackness to pop culture idolization in thought provoking ways asking us to assess the state of our current orientation towards success and having a good time. Immersive and important, those people who are willing to look beyond the surface might find something worthwhile in Korine’s breakdown of modern ideology.
Rating	10/10
Grade	A+

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2010s, 2012, A+, Drama, Fantasy, Grade, Horror, mystery, Review, review-movie, Science Fiction, science fiction horror, Thriller, Year

Review: The Endless

December 16, 2020 The Critic Leave a comment

Director(s)	Justin Benson Aaron Scott Moorhead
Principal Cast	Justin Benson as Justin Aaron Scott Moorhead as Aaron Callie Hernandez as Anna Tate Ellington as Hal Lew Temple as Tim Shane Brady as Shane Kira Powell as Lizzy James Jordan as Shitty Carl
Release Date	2017
Language(s)	English
Running Time	111 minutes

The opening quote to the movie encapsulates the thematic journey we’ll be taking- a mixture of Lovecraft, confronting the unknown, fear, alienation, and the way those ideas intertwine in relationships.

The movie opens with two quotes : one from Lovecraft and one from an Unknown source. Lovecraft’s quote encapsulates the drive behind his writing – the idea that the unknown is the root of fear. The latter quote notes that siblings only tell each other their feelings when they’re on their deathbeds. The presentation of the quote highlights that the Unknown Lovecraft is talking about is an agent of sorts that’s the source of the second quote, informing the audience that the movie we’re about to experience is going to explore a sibling relationship against a Lovecraft background – an navigation of the unknown, fear, and relationships.

After this the movie cuts to two brothers, Justin and Aaron, who are attempting to navigate their day to day lives in spite of a grayness that seems to permeate their existence. On top of their sullen demeanors, the color grading is undersaturated and reinforces a dreary and lifeless mood.

Justin (Justin Benson) tries to reach out to his brother Aaron (Aaron Scott Moorhead) who is too sullen to respond or reciprocate. *The brothers lives are gray and worn out after having left the cult . Even the bright sun can’t lighten up their days, reflecting the way their lives have fallen into a depressive rut.*

It’s quickly revealed that the two are survivors of a cult and are struggling with adapting to their new lifestyle. The older brother, Justin, domineers over his younger brother and constantly dictates the duo’s course of action. He’s the one who dragged them out from the clutches of the cult due to fears about them committing some kind of mass suicide. On the other hand, Aaron is very much sick and tired of their current life and is desperate to go back to the cult and experience the sense of warmth he had back there – a familial unity that seems to be missing with his own flesh and blood. After the two receive an ominous videotape from their former cult members talking about an “ascension” of sort. The tape is obviously old and its quality is poor, but it ends on an image of a circle. Desperate, to get his brother back to normal, Justin acquiesces and tells Aaron they’ll go to the cult for one day to get the latter’s mojo back.

As they journey to their previous habitat, the color that had been missing from their lives permeates the screen. The gray gives way to bright and warm colors that compliment Aaron’s newfound joy.

Once they decide the go back to the cult for a day, the light seeps in and saturates the brothers’ lives. There’s a newfound vitality here that was missing before.

During this drive back the brother’s stop at a funeral site – the place where their mother had died so many years ago. Surprisingly, the offerings they had left so many years ago as children still stand, no blemishes or markings to indicate how long they’ve been there. Having given their respects, the two make their way to the cult site – a campground that immediately feels unnerving and inviting at the same time. Their journey is accompanied by a score that evokes hints of John Carpenter – a spectral synth that has a The first person they run into ignores them and keeps walking past them, obviously perturbed. The next person they run into is smiling creepily, their face unmoving. Eventually the duo runs back into their previous acquaintances who happily welcome them back to the site. A nice meal followed by a good night’s sleep assuages Aaron and confirms to him he made the right choice. Meanwhile, Justin is still very much on the fence about the decision.

As the two of them explore the camp and re-integrate with their previous acquaintances/friends they’re forced to confront the host of inexplicable phenomena that pervade the camp. There’s constant mentions of an alien entity that watches the camp ground, a locked wooden shed that’s described as a storehouse for brewery equipment, magic tricks that go from discernible to out of this world, camp bonding activities that seem physically impossible, the presence of two moons, strange totem like objects scattered throughout the area, and camp members who fluctuate from cozy and inviting to seemingly hostile and suspicious. It’s a creepy cult gamut featuring enough additional oddities to keep both the brothers and the audience in a constant search to determine who’s on whose side and what’s really causing these off-putting occurrences. The best part is that the visual effects for many of these moments are simple, effective, and don’t cheapen out on stunning the audience. It’s testament to Benson and Moorhead’s skill that they can shoot a low budget picture but add enough visual magic in the right ways to absolutely nail the impact of each of these visceral phenomena. Very rarely did I feel myself fall into disbelief as the fantastical nature of what was happening blended seamlessly into the reality of the world, calling into question where the bounds of “real” stopped and started.

Everything pays off because each incident by itself is unnerving but put together it generates a fragmented experience. It’s impossible to know exactly where anything is going which generates both tension and a constant desire to figure it out. At the same time, the obvious call backs to horror tropes (ex: a cult brewing beer is the spiritual cousin of a cult drinking the Kool-Aid, Native Indian markings throughout the camp invite the idea that it’s a haunting taking place, etc.) helps us piece the pieces together according to our own preconceptions firmly placing us on the side of one or both of the brothers. Justin is suspicious of them and thinks they have to do with the cult trying to gain control over the brothers. Meanwhile, Aaron is more trusting of the camp members and accepts the oddities as they are. Their relationship develops as a result of every occurrence which not only adds an emotional resonance to the disconcerting events but also pushes the two of them to confront their deep seated feelings. It’s an encapsulation of the beginning quotes – a relationship that develops in the face of fear through the lens of the unknown.

Exemplifying this is the constant use of circles both as visual motif and in the way the camera moves. A circle is a closed shape – marked by boundaries but having no discernible start or end. It’s a loop that contains an infinite possibility of meanings depending on how you break its components down. The movie emphasizes this by constantly cutting to multiple circles, each distinct from one another in size and composition.

Circles are used a constant motif throughout the film, highlighting and tying together the fragmented horror tropes into a cohesive narrative that invites the audience to carve out their own interpretation of what everything means. Every circle represents something different but they’re all united by their shape and the use of match cuts reinforces the idea that there’s something tying these disparate elements together.

Early on, when the brothers get the initial tape from the cult, the tape cuts on an image of a circle – an eerie circle that calls back to something like Stonehenge. The move match cuts this with the bucket of cleaning supplies that the brothers use in their jobs – an circle that constraints their lives in a mundane job. The maps the camp uses are marked with circles – circles of containment that lock in zones. The camp members city in circles around the campfire – a circle of community. On top of this, Benson and Moorhead make multiple uses of arc shots that circle around and give the full view of a situation – a circle of meaning. Multiple scenes are shot in slow motion as the camera arcs – a circle of time. Is there a difference between insulating ourselves in a domestic circle where we take on mundane jobs versus isolating ourselves in a cult like circle that feeds our social and emotional needs? By utilizing the circles in such a way the movie gets us to ask questions like these throughout the movie, tying the fragmented and disparate elements into more cohesive strands – a symbolism that ties narrative to them and back again in a mutually reinforcing loop that’s open to infinite meaning.

This duality in meaning is aided by the stellar cast and crew. Surprisingly, the main players Justin and Aaron who play the the two brothers going by the same names are not the stars of the show. Don’t get me wrong – their performances are more than adequate – better than I expected when I saw the directors were taking center stage. Outside of a few moments of overexertion near the first half of the movie, they do their job at selling their characters relationship through effective and comedic banter along with requisite emotional moments necessary to propel the story. However, it’s their supporting cast that drives home the ambiguity of the camp happenings and the real emotional weight of what’s at stake behind the mysteries. Ellington gives Hal, the de facto leader/not leader, of the group a kind aura that belies the expectations of him that the brothers and us might have of him being a culty control freak. Temple makes Tim, the camp’s brewer, feel both tired and sincere. The way he emotes through his eyes indicates his character’s frustrated, serious, but not malicious. Powell’s dove eyed portrayal of Lizzy is both unnerving and endearing. She makes her character feel crazy, open, or a little bit of both. James Jordan as the aptly named Shitty Carl goes from absolutely batshit, to serious, to emotionally devastated, to goofing around in a seamless manner that underscores the weight of the camp’s mystery/(ies). I could go on and on, but the point is each performance both gives gravity to the consequences of the phenomena that we witness and emphasizes the theme of infinite interpretation.

The Endless proves that all you need is a tight script, interesting ideas, innovative execution, and a real focus on theme to tell a great and compelling story. Despite the budgetary limitations, Benson and Moorhead demonstrate that they’re more than comfortable in their Lovecraftian wheelhouse and can tell complex and diverse stories from within without ever boring their audience. After Resolution and Spring, this is the movie that cements that they’re an up and coming talent that deserves more recognition. If you’re someone who’s been itching for a sci-fi horror that’ll get you to think without giving you easy answers, look no further. The Endless is the kind of movie that begs to be watched and re-watched in an attempt to carve out meaning from it’s seemingly infinite world.

REPORT CARD

TLDR	The Endless expands and builds on Moorhead and Benson’s previous endeavors – combining horror tropes, relationship struggles, the search for meaning, and a healthy dose of Lovecraftian ideas to create a truly mesmerizing movie that’ll get you invested in the characters and invite you to think about the deeper meaning of your life and the way it ebbs and flows. Though the budget is on the smaller side, the movie never suffers and demonstrates that interesting ideas and tight execution are all that’s necessary to tell a thrilling and moving story. Every element – from the tropes, to the characters, to the visual effects, to the worldbuilding- fits with one another and will leave you genuinely impressed by the end. If you’re a fan of sci-fi and/or fantasy, you owe it to yourself to check this out.
Rating	9.8/10
Grade	A+

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2010s, 2012, A+, Drama, Grade, Horror, mystery, Review, review-movie, Thriller, Year

Review: Resolution

December 11, 2020 The Critic 2 Comments

Director(s)	Justin Benson Aaron Scott Moorhead
Principal Cast	Peter Cilella as Michael Vinny Curran as Chris Kurt David Anderson as Billy Skyler Meacham as Micah Zahn McClarnon as Charles
Release Date	2012
Language(s)	English
Running Time	93 minutes

The movie opens on a montage of a man, Chris, acting sporadically in the wilderness. He lights up his crack pipe and takes a large hit. He shoots bottles around him. He plays with a dog near him. There’s no clear cohesion behind the sequencing of these moments. They’re random, sporadic, and paint a disturbing picture. The camera reveals the montage is actually a video file being watched by Michael, Chris’s best friend. Obviously worried by his buddy’s actions on the video, Michael decides to track Chris down using GPS coordinates sent along with the file. After a lengthy drive, he locates an erratic Chris shooting at the birds in the sky with a hail of bullets.

Michael (Peter Cilella) approaches Chris (Vinny Curran) for the first time in years as the latter puts his gun down to greet his friend.

He carefully makes his way up to Chris’s house of sorts after declaring himself and slowly catches up with his friend. Unbeknownst to Chris however, is Michael’s real purpose – saving and rehabilitating his forlorn friend. Michael tricks and handcuffs Chris to a fixture in the house before informing the latter that he intends on getting him to kick his drug habit over the next 7 days.

However, this main story thread of Michael trying to rehabilitate Chris as the latter fights back tooth and nail is a decoy set up by directors Benson and Moorhead to give them a jumping off point to unabashedly explore horror genre conventions. From the moment Michael arrives at Chris’s abode, a series of strange occurrences start to occur almost like clockwork. As Michael tries to find Chris’s drug stash he comes upon a series of eerily shot photographs in the cellar-like area. Later on as he’s walking, he runs into a group of alien cultists who give an off-putting feeling. When the two are sleeping, a girl randomly pops up and watches them through the window. Later it’s revealed that Chris is located on Native grounds. Eventually, the two find a series of increasingly disturbing home-videos.

Some of the most disturbing situations the main duo run into involve strange photographs and movie reels that depict unexplainable moments of violence to strangers.

It’s like an unrelenting barrage horror occurrences/situations that keep you on your toes guessing as to what’s really happening. By playing the conventions straight as opposed to being overtly comedic with them in the vein of something like The Cabin in the Woods, Resolution manages to generate a genuine sense of unease and tension. You know something is up because horror conventions are sprinkled everywhere, but because the movie treats them as serious it avoids turning them into predictable and boring clichés. That’s effective horror film making.

There’s no hand holding from Benson and Moorhead. They’re not here to be tongue-in-cheek or overtly comedic. They’re here to tell a faithful horror story that explores and critiques the genre in a subversive way. This is reflected in their choices to not use a soundtrack or any jump scares. The tension and unease is meant to come from the movie proper, not some auditory tricks. In the place of these played out tools of commercial horror are some compelling visual and auditory clues that hint at, but don’t reveal the true nature of what’s going on. From the moment Michael chooses to pursue his friend, certain scenes are marked with a film burn effect that envelops the screen.

These are examples of the film burns that occur throughout the movie at seemingly random moments. Their purpose is unexplained till the very end, inviting the viewer to question what they mean and what’s causing them.

At other moments, the camera switches from being with the characters to POV shots that look at the characters like objects – implying the presence of something else.

A POV shot of *Chris (Vinny Curran)* and *Michael (Peter Cilella)* talking to one another. The camera shifts from being in the room with the characters to this outside perspective, inviting the audience to ask what’s watching them and why.

Accompanying these visual cues are audio distortions where lines repeat or become glitchy sounding. Because the movie takes such care to not introduce non-diegetic elements , each of these clues feels like part of the world’s fabric and invite the audience to investigate what they really mean. It’s a great way of not only ratcheting up the tension, but it also plays an important part in getting us on Chris and Michael’s side – we’re trying to figure out what’s going just like them.

This is the heart of what makes Resolution so much fun. It invites the audience to play along with the characters in a race to come up with a narrative that explains every story thread. What are the characters really after? Why are certain photos and tapes revealed? Why does the camera shift as the audio becomes distorted? As the layers start to unravel, it becomes more and more apparent that this is a movie about the cinematic form – an exploration of the way we create narratives and imbue them with a certain power, thereby generating foregone conclusions and apparent contradictions that make us question why we even want certain things to happen to begin with. Do I think the movie nails all the punches it goes for? No. There are some ideas that feel thrown in just for the sake of adding more confusion to the narrative, while other ideas are introduced without enough of a build-up. However, these concerns feel small in the face of what the movie is trying to accomplish and what it does to get the audience to question their own complicity in the way horror narratives are put together. The ending of the movie is an absolute knock-out that delivers the goods in a satisfying way.

Now while Chris and Michael’s storyline is not the main draw of Resolution, it is the focal point that ties all these otherwise discordant conventions into a cohesive narrative. Without their central struggle and the audience’s subsequent investment in it, the movie wouldn’t be able to explore any of the ideas above to their fullest. While Michael is controlled and domineering, Chris is a manic ball of energy. The former is down-to-Earth graphic designer desperate to bring his friend back into the “normal” world. The latter is a drug-addicted, misanthropic conspiracy-theorist who doesn’t care if he dies as much as he cares about enjoying the little life he has. There’s a good bit of depth to the both of them that turns them from horror inserts into real people which is obviously helped by the two lead actors’ performances. The movie spends a fair bit of time letting the two just talk to each other, whether that be in the form of Michael hurling insults at Chris or the two of them reminiscing about better times. The way Cilella and Curran riff off one another and banter reminds me of conversations I’ve had with my own friends. It’s hard to believe they’re actors and not two buds catching up after a long time away from one another. Curran in particular gives some emotional heft to his character that I wasn’t expecting, injecting a genuine somberness to his otherwise bombastic personality. They get you to care about their characters because they feel like people you might actually know.

It’s rare for a horror movie to both pay homage and still be surprising, but Resolution is one of those rare few that pulls off the balancing act to great effect. The characters are compelling, well-rounded, and written in a way that gets you to invest in their wellbeing. The diversity in plot threads keeps you guessing where the movie is going and what’s causing everything to happen, even if every sub-plot/idea isn’t utilized or explained to its fullest. The movie effectively manages to keep the sense of dread palpable while asking the audience to think and explore the world with the lead characters, making the experience active and informative on top of being entertaining. If you’re a genre fan looking for a movie that plays the conventions straight while remaining interesting, this is the movie for you.

REPORT CARD

TLDR	Resolution is a love-letter to the horror genre that plays off conventions while treating them seriously. The story of a guy trying to help his junkie friend get off the drugs turns out to be so much more, as multiple horror plot threads are layered onto the initial narrative creating interwove mystery that’ll have you asking what is actually going on. If you ever saw The Cabin in the Woods and wished it was less tongue-in-cheek and less expository, this is the movie for you. Through some subtle, yet clever cues the movie forces its audience to question their own biases about the genre in an entertaining and emotionally resonant fashion. Genre fans own it to themselves to check this out.
Rating	9.5/10
Grade	A+

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2012, B+, Grade, Horror, mystery, Past, Review, review-movie, supernatural, Thriller, Year

Film Review: Sinister – 2012

December 26, 2019 The Critic Leave a comment

Director(s)	Scott Derrickson
Principal Cast	Ethan Hawke as Ellison Juliet Rylance as Tracy James Ransone as Deputy So & So
Release Date	2012
Language(s)	English
Running Time	109 minutes
Report Card	Click to go Review TLDR/Summary

A projector starts up and the guttural mechanical sounds of its inner workings cloud the soundscape. Super 8 footage emits from the unseen machine depicting a family, each member of which has their head covered by a bag, being hung on a tree. The gritty footage is augmented by the abrasive noises of the projector – the footage takes on a disturbing home-made quality. Every member of the domestic unit is executed when a tree branch is cut by an entity not shown on the screen. As the family’s feet stop moving, the title card crops up in the lower right corner of the frame, as if etched out against the grain of the celluloid.

The sheriff (Fred Thompson) accosts Elliot (Ethan Hawke).

Post title sequence, the viewer is introduced to the film’s protagonist, Ellison (Ethan Hawke), a writer moving to a new house in an effort to find materials to publish a new best-seller. However, his move is interrupted by a sheriff (Fred Thompson) who accosts him and gives the audience Ellison’s relevant backstory: the writer published a best-seller but struck out with his subsequent novels which not only painted law enforcement as incompetent but also incorrectly assessed the nature of situations being documented. It becomes clear that this current book is Ellison’s attempt at striking gold once more after a set of failures.

Before leaving, the sheriff mentions that Elliot’s pursuits will only bring up answers that no one wants to know and that his decision to move into the house he’s chosen is disrespectful in light of the circumstances surrounding the disappearance. Both warning and condemnation alike are ignored by Elliot who waives the sheriff off. This interaction is noted by Ellison’s wife, Tracy (Juliet Rylance), who asks her husband what the altercation was about. She hesitatingly questions if the house the family has moved into is next to a murder site again, implying that Elliot has made the family move to dangerous locations before. He assuages her concerns and confirms the house is not neighboring a murder location. But as he stares at the same broken tree from the snuff film from the opening, it becomes clear that he’s moved his family into an abyss where a family was hung. Far from keeping the family some proximity away from the terrors of his investigative work, he’s brought them right into the heart of darkness.

The all-encompassing evil surrounding his family makes its appearance felt as the four-person unit eats dinner in complete black. They don’t know what Elliot has dragged them into and act in total bliss, unaware of the abyss slowly encroaching from all around. Unfortunately, this façade is one doomed to collapse as Elliot discovers when he goes upstairs to do some unpacking. He notices a black scorpion near a box filled with super 8 film reels. Suddenly, the title sequence rears its ugly head again – the scorpion becomes an emissary of terrible things to come.

Alas, Elliot is unaware of these connections and takes the box of “home videos” downstairs after trying to dispatch the scorpion. He goes into his private study, far from the eyes of his family, and starts to play the tapes. At first, the super 8 footage depicts a peaceful domestic image; a family plays around while having a joyous looking picnic. However, this idyllic image is shattered as the jittery footage cuts to the title sequence’s footage – it becomes clear that this cheerful family is the same one the viewer saw being hung. Now, Elliot has seen the same. Now, the tree in his backyard seems all the more ominous. Now, evil has made its presence brazenly known.

Perturbed by the experience, Elliot goes outside to check on the tree and is confronted by its looming presence. It’s as if the spirits of the family still linger from where they were executed, warning Elliot of what’s to come. Nevertheless, he persists and goes back to his study to continue investigating the demented home films.

The carnage is displayed on Elliot’s (Ethan Hawke) glasses.

But the footage proves to be too much. Each film he watches follows the same pattern – a peaceful vision of a family which is followed by their gruesome execution. Finally, the violence erupts and totally breaks Elliot down. Shocked and disgusted, he takes out phone and dials the police, ready to get legal enforcement in on an issue which seems to be more heinous than he previously imagined.

And then he stops. He looks up and sees a stack of his bestseller, Kentucky Blood, sitting perched on a shelf under a bright light, a limelight from a past age. The decadent red color of the books entrance Elliot; within them, he sees this case as a chance at being great all over again. The allure of greatness takes precedence over all else, and he turns the phone off. A decision made that cannot be undone.

This is the heart of Sinister and where the film excels: the story of a writer pursuing the restoration of his status at all else, making a Faustian deal with to get back in the limelight. The film spends the entirety of its run-time with Elliot as he attempts to discover the root of the mystery, the reason behind the murders, and the connective tissue behind the tapes. The more he watches the found-footage films, the more he gets invested. Because we’re forced to watch with him, the same sense of morbid curiosity infects us. Even though the conclusion of each tape is foregone, there’s a horrific spell cast that makes it impossible to avert the eyes from the screen. It’s in these moments, watching a man watch horror films, that Sinister manages to unnerve the most. The true crime feeling gives the supernatural events captured on the home videos gone wrong a palpable malevolence – they’re meanspirited and get under the skin because of how vicious and unforgiving they are.

These moments gain their power not from gore but from their propensity at triggering the viewer’s imagination. At a fundamental level, there’s something creepy about super 8 film stock because of the way the texture of it obfuscates and “dirties” the image. There’s an uncomfortable grittiness that’s always present. Normal images are distorted enough to feel unnerving, but the hellish and inexplainable nature of what’s depicted only amplify the feeling. Sinister takes this unease and transforms it into palpable dread with its sound design. Along with the sounds of the projector, the film utilizes distortions, scratches, incomplete jumbles, demonic choral riffs, and other sonic oddities to create states of paranoia. Something is always buzzing or disconcerting enough to create worry. Because of this, the viewer is forced to think about where the noise is coming from and what it has to do with the image. There’s a fundamental disconnect between what’s going on and that sense of mystery is what generates unease and causes one’s thoughts to run wild. Like Tobe Hooper’s The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, Sinister evokes the feeling that one has seen gore of the most depraved kind even when no gore has been shown purely by stimulating unconscious fears regarding the situation.

It’s precisely when the film tries to explain the nature of its supernatural set-up and remove the level of mystery that it suffers; the unconscious fears that had previously been building up fizzle out as the direct explanation of the spectral undermines the unease by which it operates. The film goes for these more overt gestures in order to engage in predictable, expendable jump-scare sequences that pad the story until it ends. In fact, once the last home movie is played, there’s a significant drop in narrative momentum, as the film becomes lost on how to effectively move the characters to the next story beat.

This should not have been the case; the terrors should have been built around and upon Elliot’s compromised relationship with his family and his obsessive pursuit of a glorious time at the cost of everything else. It is precisely in the destruction of the idyllic family life that Sinister disturbs deepest, so the larger story should have been focused more on the disintegration of the family unit in relation Elliot’s decision; however, the film only ever shows his arguments with Tracy and even those play second-fiddle to the film’s investigation into the actual nature of the supernatural mystery, which as previously mentioned, undermines what makes the film effective. Consequently, the tension that the first half excels in is lost for much of the latter portion of the film as both character and narrative momentum is squandered on cheap thrills that pale in comparison to the frights from before.

This pivot in focus is a shame because it squanders Ethan Hawke’s grounded and terrified character work which otherwise laid out a perfect foundation on which to build the film. His emphatic reactions to the home movies is part of the reason they come off as so disturbing. There’s a visceral pain he imparts upon seeing the families meet their end. But then this pain is juxtaposed against the ambition in his eyes that props up every time he’s reminded of his past. Both heaven and hell are present in his gaze and lets the viewer at least understand his character’s actions even the consequences seem disastrous.

Thankfully, the final few minutes of the film bring the narrative back to the threads that made it compelling to begin with, both subverting the the haunted house story and resolving Elliot’s arc in satisfying fashion. It’s a far cry from the potential hinted at in the opening act, but Sinister‘s craft, mood, and performance carry its uneven narrative to terrifying heights.

REPORT CARD

TLDR	Sinister starts strong as a true-crime styles supernatural thriller that follows an author going in over his head to get a story, but falters towards the end as it settles for cheap and conventional horror tactics. When the film is at it’s best, it’s truly terrifying and promises to unsettle even the most veteran of horror aficionados, but at it’s worst, the film does little more than undermine the basis of what makes it so effective. Thankfully, with an near impeccable first act, a thoroughly engaging performance by Ethan Hawke, and a perfectly poetic ending, there’s much to recommend for viewers looking for a spooky time.
Rating	8.5/10
Grade	B+

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Category Archives: 2012

Film Review: The Avengers – 2012

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Review: Spring Breakers

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Review: The Endless

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Review: Resolution

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Film Review: Sinister – 2012

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