Sinister 2 (2015)

Score: 2.5 / 5

Meh.

I really wanted to like this movie. I loved the first one, and though the premise was never going to be really dynamic in a sequel, I still had high hopes, especially when I learned that Scott Derrickson was still helping out. But he really should have directed this one, too.

Maybe that's not fair. Director Ciaran Foy (whom I had never heard of) does a decent job with keeping the dread looming above. But that hardly makes a film worthwhile these days, and it puts a horror sequel six feet under by default. With maybe three exceptions, the jump-scares are predictable and less than chilling. That said, I think we need to make a clearer distinction between "scary movies" and horror films. This picture is horror, through and through, simply in its thematic elements. If you saw the first, you know it's a contemporary re-imagining of Children of the Corn in a different setting, where the children become enamored of a demonic figure who entices them to sacrifice their families and join him in a ghostly dimension. While good artists can usually expound and elaborate on a rich concept like this, they didn't much here.

Don't get me wrong: it's not a "bad" film. There are some lovely choices that I should probably applaud. First, centering the story on Ex-Deputy So & So (James Ransone) is definitely a wining point, and a counterpart in Shannyn Sossamon was a brilliant choice. They have some lovely character moments, partly due to the nice dialogue in their more intimate scenes as well as on their own. It's pretty obvious that Derrickson and co-writer C. Robert Cargill (also from the first film) have their hearts with this duo, and it allows for a lot of warm feelings in an otherwise heavy picture.

The central gimmick of this franchise -- that of children murdering their families in imaginative and graphic ways and filming the crime as an homage to their deity -- is chilling, but has largely lost its efficacy in a sequel. While watching those sequences is no less horrifying (I heard at least two groans from other audience members), it is not particularly scary anymore. Here we go again, conflating the two. My point, though, is that some horror films (especially ones that have this kind of weighty emotional import) might do well to have a few well-designed jump-scares. Much like good comedies need some slapstick or body humor to complement intelligent plots or character development, good horror films with particularly memorable plots that disturb long after viewing might do well to offset the heavy stuff with some frisson to make it fun as well as horrifying. Does that make sense? Horror films beg audience reaction, and to only hear a few groans of discomfort is probably not the best sign that your picture is working. You need a few shrieks or even giggles.

And I'm not saying all horror needs that. Look at It Follows, which had very little humor in it; it doesn't need much humor because its premise isn't as deeply disturbing in our culture. Adolescent sexuality is punished, okay, yeah sure. Our culture expects that, because it's been our narrative in real life even more than in film. So that movie can maintain its sense of dread by feeding off plays in narrative devices. But in Sinister, we have children murdering their parents and siblings in religious observance, which is far more taboo for our culture; indeed, very few horror films have ever (to my knowledge) broached this matter. So when almost every other scene of this film forces us to watch these atrocities, it would be nice to have some jump-scare levity in the meantime.

Besides my ambiguous feelings toward the thematic elements of this movie, I should also mention my more pressing concern for it. It's just not as good as the first one. Maybe because it can't spend much time on exposition, it dives pretty quickly into the heavy horror, and it can't really go anywhere from there. Director Foy tries, but he can't escape his own dangerous trap: The gimmicks of his film (the videotapes of the murders) become the stars of his film. Grotesque and disturbing as they are, we yearn for the next one because the rest of the film so lacks what we want to see. Even his camerawork and set design look like rip-offs of other franchises. The first Sinister worked because of its pervasive Gothic energy and sensibility, mixed with a rural awareness of social and religious dynamics. This one feels like a bloodier regurgitation of that atop a mosaic of Children of the Corn. I mean, the climax is a child chasing our protagonists through a cornfield with a scythe, for crying out loud!

Don't get me wrong. I'd much rather watch this than a whole slew of other scary movies. It accomplishes all its sets out to do, with some style and even some heart to boot. It's not bad.

It's just disappointing.

IMDb: Sinister 2

The Gift (2015)

Score: 4.5 / 5

Easily the most stylish thriller this summer (actually, maybe the only thriller this summer), The Gift presents us with a masterful retelling of a familiar story. It's Fatal Attraction meets Gone Girl, but without much overt play on misogyny. Indeed, the woman in this film, played by Rebecca Hall, is the most sympathetic character, and we largely follow her journey between two opposing men who seem to have staked claims on her and her privileged life. But she doesn't really suffer from the two men in the same ways that they suffer from each other.

As I say, the tale is familiar: Rogue man (Joel Edgerton) with shady motives begins stalking our protagonist woman and her husband (Jason Bateman) in their idyllic suburban life. We get the idea that the stranger is after our heroine until we learn that the victim of his advances may actually be her husband, who had shamed the man many years prior. Rising above the soapy plot, though, the film perfectly captures appropriate dialogue, a stark visual approach, and entrancingly nuanced performances that, together, spin into a nightmarish descent that doesn't relent until the ending credits roll. Actually, the final fifteen minutes or so were possibly my favorite, as the plot ramps up and our sympathies are all over the place. Whereas we initially identified with the woman, we become more invested in the men's game of cat-and-mouse while (in the most brilliant turn I could have expected) we totally lose sight of the woman. In the film's climax, when we think she has become the men's victim, we get one shot of her, and in it she unequivocally (and non-verbally) declares her independence and autonomy with a single look of defiance. It took my breath away.

Joel Edgerton deserves all of the praise for this movie, as he starred, wrote, produced, and directed it, making it his directorial debut, I believe. His ear seems trained to the human voice at its most guarded, by which I mean the film's dialogue tends to take on double meanings, and works best when polite conversation is pulled back to reveal the raw cruelty underneath. Jason Bateman particularly shines in those moments, and he pulls a powerhouse turnaround about two-thirds of the way through the movie. Director Edgerton's eye, however, is trained on sensual patterns and proximity, allowing the rich colors and beautiful sets to frame casual conversations as if they were intimate, and intimate situations as if they were horrific. Indeed, the one overtly misogynist moment in the film (I kept waiting for it, when the plot hinges on two men battling, with a woman in between) happens near the end, and it's a fairly brutal (though not graphic) sequence. Its sexual nature is left ultimately ambiguous, which helps, but my point is that it is filmed not unlike a terrorist's home video, with shaky, theatrical handheld camera, and the victim is helpless as her masked assailant poses for the screen. In this way, even the more sensitive, sexual moments in the film are sensationalized as pure horror entirely as a result of Edgerton's directing.

Really, the only thing I disliked about the film was its title. It's a little too generic, a little too familiar for my taste. That said, it might bring a little insight into Edgerton's motivations for creating the film. His character seems driven by an inner sense of justice, a particularly vindictive higher purpose, and his means of enacting it is through gifts. Perhaps he feels that he himself is a gift to these people, showing them their sins and forcing them to confront their pasts and prejudices. Perhaps the titular gift is he himself, allowing the other characters a chance to change. Of course, given some of his actions, it would also be a haunting view into his mind, as we can trace how dangerous and vicious his behaviors can be.

IMDb: The Gift

Fantastic Four (2015)

Score: 2 / 5

Everybody's hating on this movie. I think I understand why, sort of, but I don't really want to bash it here. Because, if nothing else, it's not as dismal as people seem determined to shout. I think the biggest problem people have with this movie is that it's rehashed material done in a not-so-blockbustery way. So it doesn't really fit into a genre. Which a lot of people tend to lose their minds over.

Is it a superhero movie? In name only. Sorry, fans of the team, but this film has very little in the way of your typical Marvel fare. In fact, this film feels more like it took inspiration from last year's Interstellar (not really a great model, guys) than from X-Men or even last decade's attempt at Fantastic Four franchise. In fact, this movie tonally feels like it belonged to the last decade, but it visually looks like one we'd see today. It has a distinctly apocalyptic message, and its treatment of authority, purpose, and catastrophic horror comes straight out of the 2000s. But it features long, art-house dialogue sequences and expository whispering that feel more like a weird coming-of-age/political thriller of the 2010s. And its special effects are a hybrid of practical, Interstellar hardware and dust-storm explosions and neon cosmic liquid from Thor. It's just a strange mix.

Besides the whiplash between these elements, though, I don't think there's been a more compelling cast for a superhero movie in a few years. Miles Teller (Whiplash, Rabbit Hole) leads with Kate Mara (American Horror Story, House of Cards), Michael B. Jordan (The Wire, Fruitvale Station), and Jamie Bell (Billy Elliot, Snowpiercer), and all are wonderfully realized, though the script and camera don't spend quite enough time with them as intelligent, autonomous characters. We also enjoy the company of Toby Kebbell (Control, Dawn of the Planet of the Apes), Tim Blake Nelson (O Brother, Where Art Thou?, Child of God), and the wonderful Reg E. Cathey (The Wire, House of Cards), but again these players have limited time on screen.

I really don't think it's a bad film, and frankly I wish more superhero films would allow for lengthy dialogue and greater character development like this one. Unfortunately, we have this notion that superhero movies need to have loads of action in them, and hence the last hour or so of this film disintegrates into mindless (and, truly, poorly devised and executed) fantasy action sequences. But the beginning of the film is really very intriguing, if not quite original. We have our heroes -- established as such from the first scene, as children -- as young people engaged in the sciences and full of hope that they are acting upon. Frankly, I think we as a culture would do well to admire this kind of hero over people who punch each other and then spit out sarcastic witticisms.

But that's also not particularly engaging or entertaining for mainstream audiences. And after the kinetic joy of the more recent Guardians of the Galaxy and Ant-Man, it's hard to reframe our perspective on superheroes. And so the film goes from coming-of-age to sci-fi adventure as our heroes travel to another dimension and unleash radiation that turns them into David Cronenberg-esque bodies with superpowers. Then the Authorities That Be inter our heroes, and the film becomes more like a war/political thriller as our heroes attempt to escape or succumb to demands placed upon them. And, finally, and less successfully, our heroes determine to embrace their new abilities and each other as a team.

It's a bit heavy-handed. It's a bit messy. And it's a bit fun. It has wit but few laughs, it has danger but little action, and it has vision but little skill. I felt rather melancholy in leaving, and more than rather confused. In short, it's a summer blockbuster, all in all. We shall look upon its like again.

IMDb: Fantastic Four

Ricki and the Flash (2015)

Score: 4.5 / 5

Easily the most entertaining movie I've seen all summer, Ricki and the Flash rocks away the post-summer blockbuster blues before we dip our toes into Oscar season. It's a familiar story, they're familiar actors, and we can hum and tap along to the familiar music, but there's a lot to be said for excellent artists coming together to make something so traditional so damn good. I mean, most of the time you can predict the exact words some of these characters say before they do, but I think that speaks less about the film's intelligence than about its emotional honesty and resonance.

Director Jonathan Demme and writer Diablo Cody pull their usual strings here, adding layer upon layer to the rote story of an absent parent who chases an artistic (or sometimes business-related) dream or goal away from his or her family, and subsequently attempts to bridge the chasms of the past. Demme and Cody make this round fresh, though, by centering on a woman, middle-aged and a mother, who left her husband and children to chase her dreams. As she returns to care for her damaged children, she is forced to confront their very different lifestyles and the demons they all harbor. And, of course, we the audience are forced to confront our ideas about all manner of complex ideas (thanks, Demme, but damn you) from alternative lifestyles and aging to dysfunctional families and class divisions.

Meryl Streep is impossibly perfect as Ricki, the rockstar woman who sings her way through life and plays our heartstrings along with her guitar. Her every moment on screen is electric, and sparks fly from under her eyeshadow and braids. We join her in maneuvering between her three children (one of whom is her real-life daughter Mamie Gummer, who proves her mettle opposite Streep), her ex-husband (Kevin Kline) and his wife (Audra McDonald), and her romantic lead guitarist. The filmmakers and Streep consistently (but not obnoxiously) push hard arguments on us against our cultural ideas of women and work, absent mothers, and poor musicians; specifically, there is a sharp focus on the double standard of women (and artists) who choose themselves and/or their work over their families. Actually, even the way I phrased that indicates an existing bias.

It's a very interesting film in this regard, and a lot is left unsaid and unresolved (which is a good thing, I think, because the characters themselves don't really resolve much) but these Big Picture ideas in no way disrupt the heart and joy of the movie. The family unit -- in all its complexity -- takes center stage here, and Demme makes a point to juxtapose images of Streep on her own and Streep with her family (either chosen or given). My favorite scene from the film comes early on, right after Ricki arrives at her ex-husband's home, and they all go to a restaurant together. We have glam-rocker Ricki, her suited husband, and three grown children: a disheveled newly-divorced daughter, a hostile and sarcastic gay son, and a similarly hostile engaged son with his fiancee. Ricki learns all kinds of new things about her estranged children, and as they try to stay civil amidst their brutal emotions, the people eating at nearby tables reflect our own awe at the spectacle. The scene is biting and vicious and all sorts of uncomfortable, and I was laughing so hard I was crying.

The rest of the film, for me, was downhill from there. Probably not a good thing, but it also never got boring. Meryl sings some more, Meryl cries some more, and there's a palpable affection that sweeps the auditorium. I'm thinking this movie is a weird mash-up of Rachel Getting Married (a Demme drama of dysfunctional family arguments) and Mamma Mia! (a Streep-vehicle of music, marriage, and mother-daughter relationships). Oh, and if you had any doubts about Streep as a rockstar, just take a look at the picture below. She looks amazing (I want that hair), she sounds like she could be an opening act for Journey or Bruce Springsteen, and her talent is laid bare in a summer of computer generated effects. I can't wait to download the music from this (especially her Lady Gaga cover, because love).

Rock on, Ricki.

IMDb: Ricki and the Flash

Mission: Impossible - Rogue Nation (2015)

Score: 3 / 5

This franchise has a lot to be said for it. I don't really want to try and give a concise opinion of all five films here, but I think this installment draws on each of the previous films so much that I'll probably reference them all at some point. And, in fact, that's probably my biggest problem with this picture as well: It feels totally derivative, a misshapen amalgam of images and ideas from its predecessors, wrapped up in a story that, though promising, never delivers its fifth-act knockout. And yes, I just mixed my metaphors. On purpose.

This film really was a great idea for the series. Our hero Ethan Hunt searches for proof of the Syndicate, a secret organization of criminals, while the IMF is disbanded and he himself is sought by the CIA for going rogue (and for his past recklessness). Along the way, Hunt learns that the Syndicate seems to largely be made up of agents thought to be dead from similar organizations around the world. I mean, how cool is that? Two mysterious "rogue nations" going at each other while both are hunted by the CIA. That sounds like a lot of room for elegant intrigue, travel and adventure, and good old-fashioned spying.

Unfortunately, that's not what happens. In strictest sense, yes, that's the plot, but writer/director Christopher McQuarrie and his team spend all their time and energy on endless chase sequences and fast, jittery violence that feels more an assault on us than on the characters. There is little (if any) sleuthing or sneaking, only momentary elegance (found, surprise surprise, in the opera sequence), and a plot so big-picture oriented that the details get lost in the action. Yes, it's a rogue organization, we get it, so can we make it a little less obvious? A little more subtlety would do well for both the characters and the filmmakers here.

We have a chase through the dark streets of London (like in the first movie), motorcycle chases (like in the second), gritty, color-graded violence (like in the third), and an aging hero (like in the fourth). And those are just the most obvious thefts. I'm not saying these are bad things. Indeed, the finale's chase through foggy London alleys is probably my favorite scene in the picture, precisely because it is so iconic (it clearly recalls moments from the opening sequence of film #1, by far my favorite sequence in the series). I would argue, though, that the only original moment in this film is (again) the opening sequence, though it feels more like a mini-film than an introduction. Actually, Cruise's obligatory descent into a high-security room to do something tech-savvy on a supercomputer is also riveting here, because said room happens to be full of fast-moving water. Other than these moments, though, the film is just a rehashing of old, well, hash.

That's not to say it's not well done. Even the oldest ideas are the most exciting, if presented skillfully. And here we have some lovely costumes, set pieces, and acting. In fact, newcomer Rebecca Ferguson is easily the most novel presence on screen. Smart and sexy, she brings proper enigma to the film, parrying Cruise's antics in every scene. She also, perhaps the greatest virtue of the script, proves herself a vicious, intelligent, and fully capable spy, both saving and beating Tom Cruise repeatedly. She is autonomous, makes dangerous decisions, and ultimately emerges victorious from her many struggles. She is the real hero of this movie. And of course Jeremy Renner, Simon Pegg, and Ving Rhames are a stellar combination of humor and heart. Besides introducing Ferguson's character, though, the script delivers no development for any of these men, making the heart of the film disappear beneath violence and extended chases.

Beyond these, there is little of novel interest. The mysterious Syndicate are caricatures, which might work if the film presented them as a constant, ever-present threat. But it doesn't. Rather, the dialogue repeatedly refers to them as such, but only visually presents them through their purported leader, Solomon Lane (Sean Harris). This minimizes most of the enigma about the Syndicate, and, in case you disagree, the film repeatedly shows a close-up of his face just to remind you that he's the bad guy. And even this wouldn't be such an issue if he was a decent bad guy. But we barely see him fight, he's got weak screen presence (sorry, Harris, but you just don't compare to Philip Seymour Hoffman in #3), and it seems that the only reasonably scary thing about him is his voice.

For summer entertainment, you could definitely do worse. And it's not the worst in the series, either. For me, it's just difficult to swallow this picture after Ghost Protocol, with its clean action, rousing comedy, fresh faces, and palpable heart. Rogue Nation instead has shaky, handheld action, less plot (and intelligence), little humor, and mindless chase scenes. Let's hope we go back to basics for the next mission, should Cruise choose to accept it.

IMDb: Mission: Impossible - Rogue Nation