Damsel (2024)

Score: 1.5 / 5

What in the made-for-television hooey is this? The era of exciting feminist reclamation sorely missteps with Damsel, a bizarre attempt at a twisted typical fantasy trope. Opening narration spoils the whole thing, letting us know explicitly that there will be a damsel, she'll be in distress, and she'll be rescuing herself, thank you very much. But the overwrought and annoyingly vague story, here, makes this entire exercise less an empowering cinematic experience than a mildly diverting bedtime story that could have been written on any free fanfiction website. Worse, it's far less than the sum of its parts, a glaring problem that constantly reminds us of its own inadequacies.

Titular protagonist Elodie, played by Millie Bobby Brown (who really should take some acting classes to branch out of her Winona Ryder-esque range of moody adolescent indignation), accepts an invitation to marry the prince of a faraway land called Aurea. Seemingly doing so to help her impoverished, unnamed snowy home -- where they sell drapes for food, a plot hole I will never understand -- Elodie and her family travel to the warmer, wealthier Aurea; her father (Ray Winstone) and mother (Angela Bassett) are woefully wasted characters who serve no real purpose, while Elodie's younger sister Floria (Brooke Carter) will prove the damsel in distress in the film's long-coming second act. Upon their arrival, Elodie and her betrothed charming Prince Henry (a clearly bored Nick Robinson) are cool towards each other, though they soon enough warm to the idea. Meanwhile, his mother, Queen Isabelle (a reliably icy Robin Wright) outright rejects the friendship of her new in-laws under the guise of matriarchal rule.

While the production design and wardrobe feel like a feast for the eyes, it also feels unmoored and uninspired throughout the film. Dodgy CGI and green screen settings are the name of the game in this fantasy romp, and multiple times this film felt visually like it belonged in television shows from the last decade (I thought of Once Upon a Time and Merlin, among others, more than once). That's not necessarily a bad thing, but for a film like this to be taken at all seriously -- which it patently desperately desires -- you can't have this cartoonish quality framing your action or drama. Director Juan Carols Fresnadillo (whose filmography is interesting but wildly unfit for this kind of project) doesn't seem to have purposeful understanding of how to present this material to any audience, let alone the Netflix crowd. Even thematically, the film makes far more suggestions than it ever satisfies: early, as Elodie is being fitted into her bridal gown, it's not a Cinderella moment of rags-to-glam, but this intriguing divergence from expectations is never explored beyond her own eventual gumption in fighting back.

The film dramatically shifts when, during a weird post-marital ceremony on a stone bridge above a cavernous abyss, the two newlyweds share their blood (it's not sex, unless you read a LOT into Grimms' fairytales) and Henry casts Elodie into the pit. She's the latest in a long string of female victims sacrificed to an enormous dragon in the cave for, apparently, centuries: an ancestral king of Aurea killed the dragon's babies and so the dragon seeks eternal recompense in the form of virginal descendants of his line in return for not destroying the kingdom. Despite this elaborate and unnecessary setup (there is a prologue of sorts that dramatizes this inciting incident, revisited by flashbacks anon), the film does not teeter further into fantasy at this point, rather engaging its action sensibilities as Elodie runs and ducks and hides in the labyrinthine caverns while being stalked by the dragon.

The dragon itself is well-designed and mostly well-animated, voiced with breathtaking skill by Shohreh Aghdashloo, whose smokey resonance gravelly brings the beast to life. She's not to be trifled with, and her predatory menace is the only thing that makes this film worth watching. Oddly, the film is structured in such a way that, once the monarchy's ruse is revealed, we are made to feel sorry for the dragon, a bizarre sensation that never amounts to much. Attempting to distract from the dragon is Elodie, though, tearing her dress apart to fashion tools and weapons while looking suspiciously stylish in a tattered sort of way. Her antics lead her to a wall of names of previous (deceased) princesses, who clearly had time and energy to sign their Jane Hancocks for no apparent reason; she also discovers a cave of glowing worms who light her path and also heal her wounds. Because nothing says incompetent screenwriting like multiple deus ex machinas less than halfway through your story! Not to mention the entire premise, which simply does not follow: the king of old killed three dragon eggs, but the dragon has now killed dozens (if not hundreds) of maidens?

For most of its middle section, the film grinds on more like a video game, as Elodie works and tries and fails and tries again to escape the cave, defeat the dragon, retain her health, etc. She is grimly determined and badass in the manner of a Tomb Raider type character who is neither prepared nor trained for this, making the whole thing increasingly unbelievable and utterly devoid of stakes. Other characters start popping into the cave, which allows more action and death at the cost of further absurdity and narrative gimmicks. Add to all that the finale's tired final message of sisterhood above all and healing the enemy to foster alliance, and the whole house of cards comes tumbling down. A reasonably competent film -- even one as far-fetched and often outright laughable as this -- can't always overcome a story without enough inspiration, craft, or nerve to follow through on any of its potential intrigues (mind you, this was penned by Dan Mazeau, whose only other feature writing credits are the criminally badly written Wrath of the Titans and Fast X), and this one simply tries too hard to be something it never takes the effort to define for itself.

P.S.: Since simply bashing isn't as helpful or thoughtful as I try to be, I'll note as a final thought my idea for a better film. Reformat the story as a medieval horror film, shot on location in a crumbling Carpathian castle. Increase the "weird fantasy" elements -- a la Gretel & Hansel but with more gritty action -- and dress it all with creepy, dark Gothic style a la The Castle of Otranto, considering the adolescent sexuality and bloodsharing and political angling inherent in its conceit. We wouldn't have even needed a dragon; use Aghdashloo's presence as a witch or spirit of the forest or even a stupid cave, a presence of malice playing with young girls swept into this world they don't know or understand their own significance in. Rewrite it as a real feminist existential horror story so that Elodie coming into her own to burn down the monarchy (literally) actually feels earned. That way, too, its derivative basis (clearly meant to be something like Andromeda being fed to the Kraken) would be sidestepped and it could actually be a novel piece. Hell, even a Gothic thriller about a queen trying manipulate three girls into marrying her son at the same time to satiate a monster or curse or bloodthirsty mob would have been more interesting than anything Damsel has to offer.

Renfield (2023)

Score: 3 / 5

After a century of providing human meals to his boss, Count Dracula, R.M. Renfield has lost the joy in his life. His status as Dracula's familiar grants him some benefits, such as gaining super strength and speed when he eats a bug, but this is usually only necessary when he's procuring a victim or killing people trying to stop him from doing so. After a close call with some vampire hunters, the two relocate to New Orleans for some reason to hide and recuperate; while Dracula heals, Renfield attends a support group for those in abusive relationships, learning to identify his boss as a narcissist and their dynamic as dangerously codependent.

Nicholas Hoult is a wonderful young actor, and he works hard here to make the character as written come to life. He's helped by wonderful costumes and makeup and hairstyling, to be sure, and his wide-eyed, nervous earnestness is the sort that made young Hugh Grant a star. But as such, and in this particular movie where he eats a bug and then kicks ass a la John Wick, he feels a little too precious. Perhaps Renfield wouldn't be so flaccid if not opposite a particularly butch Awkwafina as the only cop in New Orleans who isn't corrupt. Her character Rebecca is on a mission to avenge her late father, also a cop, in a white man's occupation, and while her performance is typically reliable, it just doesn't belong in this movie.

Or at least not this movie as it currently exists. Frankly, the screenplay by Ryan Ridley and Robert Kirkman deserved to be workshopped and edited a lot more, because there is either too much or too little in this film, depending on your preference. If they wanted to create an action thriller about Renfield and Rebecca kicking ass as anarchist justice-seekers in the French Quarter, that could have been fun. I'd have much preferred this film to not include any of the crime family subplot or corrupt cop drama, instead focusing on the brilliantly perverse relationship of Renfield and Dracula, which could have come to light as the former developed in relationship with Rebecca. How great would that have been, to have Rebecca and the support group help Renfield see the toxicity of his servitude, and then to have Rebecca slowly realize her new boyfriend is the serial killer she's hunting? That's a story that this movie's vision would have served exquisitely well, and it would have supported much more real development and cleverness in the screenplay without all the unnecessary and dull drama. Alas, it's not the one we got.

Notice I haven't even discussed the whole criminal element of this film, and that's because it's all inane. One of Renfield's victims -- he tries to only kill "bad men," but bad men do tend to associate with other bad men -- is a member of the Lobo crime family that apparently runs New Orleans. Though not quite wolvish, the name does suggest antagonism for our protagonist and his boss; they come looking for revenge and run afoul of Renfield and Rebecca, starting a petty war. Ben Schwartz is uniformly obnoxious as Teddy Lobo, the main enforcer of the crime family, but thankfully its matriarch Bellafrancesca is played by the glorious Shohreh Aghdashloo, dressed in stunningly beautiful white power suit, who really deserves to be in many more movies.

Everyone will be talking about Nicolas Cage's performance as the undead bloodsucker, so we may as well get into it. If you know me at all, you know Cage is just not to my liking, but at least this time he knows full well what kind of movie he's making, and that his role in it is certainly catered to his unique, ahem, talents. His Dracula is both maniacally disorienting and endlessly surprising, charming even as he uncannily disconnects from reality, though he does tangibly labor through the oversized teeth and excessive prosthetics for most of his screen time. Which, it should be noted, is thankfully not as much as one would expect. Basically, if you like his antics generally, you'll enjoy him here; if you don't, it's more of the same, though at least he's clearly having fun with the material, dressed as it is in delightfully Gothic trappings. It should also be noted this is his first film in over a decade produced by a major studio; despite his bizarre and prolific filmography, I'm glad this is the kind of project he saw fit to join.

The main premise and certain scenes are brilliant -- specifically anything with the support group, led by a hilarious Brandon Scott Jones -- and the concept of turning the Dracula/Renfield dynamic into a modern toxic relationship is pure gold. I wish the film leaned more intentionally into exploring that for all its comedic and, honestly, tragic worth. There's a great film here about sensitive and thoughtful exploration of servitude and sacrifice, keeping all the humor and horror that go with the characters, that could have been mobilized by a focused screenplay. And while the cartoonish violence and bloodshed is a lot of fun, most of it comes in frenetic action sequences basically interchangeable with ones in the Kingsman franchise. If I wanted to see vampires in an action movie, there are other options than Dracula (actually, there are others with Dracula, so why shoehorn this concept into the same mold?). Ultimately, this feels like it could have been simply a spin-off of What We Do in the Shadows in terms of deadpan humor that bridges vampire horror and modern sensibilities, fabulously dramatic mise en scène and lighting, and campy humanizing of literary figures. Its cleverness is undermined and sidetracked, however, by its bizarre compulsion for blood and action.

The Promise (2017)

Score: 3 / 5

Mikael, an Armenian apothecary in idyllic foothills of the Ottoman Empire, knows he could be doing more. Betrothing himself to the daughter of a local wealthy man, he uses the sizable dowry to travel to Constantinople and attend medical school. There, enchanted by city life and the multicultural pleasures at every turn, he meets Ana, a dancer and mentor to his young cousins, with whom Mikael is living. Charming and vivacious, Ana is also Armenian but had been raised in Paris, and she is romantically involved with an American reporter named Chris. Set in the beautiful, bustling city during and after World War I, this film follows these three lovers through their toils of the heart. It's such a shame that their romantic triangle was broken up by the Armenian Genocide.

Perhaps that's too harsh. The Promise is, in retrospect, one of the very few films about the tragic holocaust, and as such it deserves more praise. The events it depicts are still denied by some, and the Turkish government still refuses to call it a genocide, even though the word was coined in 1943 to describe the horrors inflicted on the Armenian people, among others. The film effectively dramatizes the hows and wheres and whos of the mass killings, and succeeds in involving us emotionally with the fear and chaos felt by the Armenians.

Where the film falters, however, is in the whys. It seems to intentionally avoid delving into the cultural factors and social atmosphere, content to rather hint and suggest, making the events feel like a natural byproduct of living in close quarters with other cultures and ethnic groups. While that may be historically debatable, I would have been far more interested in seeing a modern dramatization of motivations, conflicts, and real-life consequences than in episodic slices of fictional life.

Actually, I think my problem with the film is a similar problem I have with historical fiction that attempts to take on iconic moments in history. In essence: The Promise does not take inspiration from the ilk of Schindler's List or Zero Dark Thirty, but rather from Titanic or Colonia (to use a recent example). Rather than focusing on the epic journey of a person or a people through hell to their fate, or using history as the main narrative frame on which the drama may be hung, The Promise relies on the predictably soapy drama to push the story while the riveting history becomes little more than set dressing. While the latter can be done well (just look at Titanic), those examples are few and far between, and are only accomplished when the drama is expertly written, paced carefully, and envisioned with honesty and novelty. This one doesn't have those benefits.

I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the picture. Cinematographer Javier Aguirresarobe (The Others, The Twilight Saga, The Road, Blue Jasmine) knows exactly what he's doing and allows the pulsing color and light of his images to capture our attention. The cast does its best with the material, and our leads turn out solid work; Christian Bale seems distinctly out of place, but he's only occasionally on screen here. Of course, I'd watch Oscar Isaac do literally anything, and personal favorite Shohreh Aghdashloo makes any movie for me.  Director Terry George (Hotel Rwanda, Reservation Road) obviously means well, though he utterly fails to balance the film and its narrative swings from clumsy to simple like a leaden pendulum. A film eponymously promising great things deserved far better.

IMDb: The Promise

Star Trek Beyond (2016)

Score: 3.5 / 5

Finally, the summer blockbuster we've been waiting for. Tarzan failed miserably, and the last good major flicks were from Marvel. In a hot season this devoid of decent action movies, just about anything might have done the trick. And while the newest Star Trek certainly delivers in all the crucial ways, it also leaves me feeling a bit underwhelmed.

As someone who has never seen anything Trek-related besides these reboot films, I may not speak with the most authority on these matters. I've heard that the film works best with its nostalgic, retro vibes and its pervasive senses of joy, humor, and adventure. We get more of the Spock-Kirk-McCoy bromance, the Spock-Uhura drama, and some nice insight into Sulu and Scott. This picture, far more than the first or second installments, fulfills the franchise's promise for exploration, adventure, and wonder. All fun, all the time. I totally get that. It's a rapturous fantasy, dazzling and wondrous in scope, layered with hue upon hue, vibrant and explosive, original and utterly absorbing.

The mind-numbing CGI and whirling cinematography through amazing alien worlds do their trick too: distraction. I've heard it argued both ways, and convincingly, but after the emotional and intellectual power-punches of the first two, this film really lets its heart take a break. Perhaps that was the smart decision, as the emotional climax of Into Darkness was so intense. But even what could be character-building arcs here are sacrificed in favor of blatant gags and quirky one-liners. The revved action sequences and heated style render the more sentimental dialogue tepid at best. And maybe that's okay for what amounts to a placeholder film in a franchise as extensive as this. But I just spent the time thinking and typing all this out to say that I'm just not sure, which may suggest the filmmakers weren't sure either, either in conception or execution. My bet is on the latter. Why? Because even some basic plot devices are illogical and filled with holes. I know I missed some, too, because of the frenetic pace of the film, but one that really pissed me off occurred when Scotty tells the captain that the dilapidated spaceship is impossible to fix, and in the next scene everything is fine and they're blasting off.

And that's to say nothing of the action sequences themselves, which are occasionally stupid and usually incoherent. They're a hell of a lot of fun, but I had trouble lining up placements and even location. Not that it even mattered most of the time; the film is so full of salvific coincidence and that it's hard to care much how our heroes escape or succeed because we innately know they will. Important plot pieces just click into place as they are needed with little or no explanation beyond screenwriting laziness.

For all that, though, it's a hell of a picture, and loads of fun. I'd watch it again, and be happy the whole time. It certainly whetted my appetite for another rollicking adventure. Tempered, I might add, by remembering that Anton Yelchin won't be there. Rest in peace.

IMDb: Star Trek Beyond