Author Archives: R.L. Terry

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About R.L. Terry

Ryan “Professor Horror” Terry teaches film studies and screenwriting at the University of Tampa. He holds graduate and undergraduate degrees in film and media studies. He has regularly published film reviews since 2014 and has been a featured speaker at Tampa Bay Comic Con, Spooky Empire, and the historic Tampa Theatre. His work has appeared in both political and entertainment magazines.

THE LAST SHOWGIRL film review

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Anderson dazzles in spite of lackluster screenplay. Pamela Anderson’s captivating performance in The Last Showgirl is truly compelling. Gia Coppola’s film may lack strong, cohesive plotting, but serves as a fantastic character study that remains with you long after you leave the theatre. This is particularly true for anyone that has ever worked in live entertainment or felt left behind due to being perceived as irrelevant or outdated due to changing times and shifting audience taste. This film unapologetically explores universal fears and anxieties associated with change, relevance, and identity. It’s only flaw, which is a biggie, is that I wish the screenplay had been a better vessel for the performative dimension to showcase the talent and passion on screen.

Written by Kate Gersten, the film follows iconic Vegas showgirl Shelly (Pamela Anderson) after her legendary Las Vegas showgirl spectacular is coming to an abrupt end after more than thirty years. Now, she much grapple with the uncertainty of her future because of the extinction of the Vegas showgirl shows.

The Vegas showgirl used to be an institution, but unfortunately shifts in audience taste have all but made the iconic showgirl an obsolete fixture of live entertainment. The idea of the Vegas showgirl in all her sequined and feathered glory is still alive, but that’s all it is anymore–an idea that exists only in our collective memories of a bygone era. Anderson’s performance is particularly compelling because of her effortless ability to oscillate between vulnerability and strength without the end result ever feeling fabricated or unrelatable. In retrospect, I cannot think of a better actor to have brought this character to life than Pamela Anderson, because a signifiant portion of the gravitas she is able to bring to the character is inspired by channeling the energy of her own past glory days, which she infuses into each step and gesture. Anderson’s charisma shines in the scenes where the character performs, even if only in the solitude of her own living room. Delivering a gritty, raw honesty to the role, the former Baywatch megastar relinquishes glamor in exchange for authenticity in a role that feels achingly real and profoundly human.

Shelly represents all those that have worked on stage in live entertainment, whether that is in a theatre or at a theme park. While the focus is on the stage talent, many of the ideas that the film posits can be connected to work backstage as well, as entertainment changes. Shelly is not only haunted by the loss of relevance, but also by the deeper, existential terror of becoming invisible–something we all fear. As such, Anderson’s character connects to us on both a personal level and to society at large. Whether on the Vegas stage, at the cinema, on the television, or even at the theme park (looking at you, Universal Orlando), this film comments on the broader idea of how cultural shifts in audience tastes can be destructive to dreams, experiences, and careers.

Coppola’s film delves provides audiences a candid portrait of a former starlet from the golden age of Vegas entertainment, now struggling to find her way in an unfamiliar world that is all but alien to her. What Shelly is going through is not unlike what some (if not many) of us go through–or fear we will go through during the course of our professional careers or interests. While the film takes place in Vegas, many parallels can be drawn to changes in cinema, theme parks, and television. As shown in the film, the Vegas audience of today has drifted away from the opulent, theatrical traditions that were a staple of Las Vegas toward minimalism, concerts, and new media. And while there is nothing innately damaging about any of those, collectively they rendered the classic Vegas experience obsolete. The audience Shelly once captivated, no longer values or finds enjoyment in that which she represents.

I recently learned this when I found that I will be attending the NAB convention in Las Vegas. And the first thing I did was look to find a classic Vegas showgirl show–like from Show Girls. Didn’t take long to learn that those shows do not exist anymore. So, this film was all the more relevant and even poignant because Shelly represents something that I had hoped to experience, but can only find in, as I gather, Vegas: the Show and films and television from decades past. I was saddened, really. To think that something that was a Vegas mainstay for decades, inspiring movies, songs, and playing a signifiant role in the whole Rat Pack aesthetic, was just a faded memory. Originality was exchanged for an extension of what you could find on Broadway or a concert venue near you.

Something else that hit me was how Shelly and events of the film prompted me to think about my own career and professional aspirations, because the Hollywood that I fell in love with as a kid is nearly a distant memory. Just like the Universal Studios Florida that I fell in love with as a kid no longer exists except for the Horror Makeup Show and the E.T. Adventure. Sitcoms and non-serialized drama and horror programs are nearly an entertainment medium of television past and the slasher film has largely fallen out of favor with mainstream audiences. Even film criticism–it’s no longer about applying a critical lens to motion picture arts and sciences; rather, it’s now about your means of garnering attention on YouTube or Instagram matters more than what you have to say. Even blogging has nearly become a thing of the past. Scary to think that you can become obsolete in the very field in which you’ve worked do diligently, smartly, and hard.

Through this character study film, we learn that there is a quiet, enduring value in the traditions and artistry Shelly represents, even in an age of social media influencer, superficial trends, and fleeting attention spans. Perhaps we are drawn to films like this because, for example, the Vegas showgirl is truly timeless. Maybe she isn’t on the stage any longer, and the last remnants of French Lido culture are extinct except for Moulin Rouge in Paris and (in a manner of speaking) the Rockettes at Radio City Music Hall, but her legacy will live on, if only in our memories.

I highly recommend watching this film if you enjoy compelling character studies. I wish it was more than a character study, but that’s no fault of the actors or director. The weakness in the storytelling of this film is found in the vapid screenwriting and lack of following proper screenwriting mechanics that require, at minimum, a well-defined central character with a well-defined external goal opposed by a well-defined character of opposition.

Ryan is the general manager for 90.7 WKGC Public Media in Panama City and host of the public radio show ReelTalk about all things cinema. Additionally, he is the author of the upcoming film studies book titled Monsters, Madness, and Mayhem: Why People Love Horror. After teaching film studies for over eight years at the University of Tampa, he transitioned from the classroom to public media. He is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

NOSFERATU (2024) horror film review

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Gothic horror is truly timeless. Universal is going back to its roots in horror with its latest motion picture. More than a century after F.W. Murnau gifted us with the original Nosferatu (1922), director Robert Eggers delivers audiences his take on Murnau’s unauthorized Dracula adaptation; however, Eggers’ vision for his expression of Nosferatu is more closely aligned with Warner Herzog’s Nosfertatu the Vampyre (1979) than with Murnau’s original film. Ostensibly, Eggers’ adaptation sets out to bridge elements of both the 1922 and 1979 versions, whilst incorporating the postmodern ideologies that he has integrated in his past works. This expression of Nosferatu combines the atmosphere, mood, and settings from the 1922 version with the characters and erotic tone of Herzog’s version. Each iteration of Nosferatu reflects its director’s vision and the cinematic sensibilities of its time. For it was Oscar Wilde whom reminded us that all art is self-portraiture, “Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter.” As cinema is art, and the director is often considered the author thereof, then each of these versions expressed something to us about his beliefs, fears, anxieties, or worldview. Eggers took the expressive techniques and vampire lore of Murnau, the existentialism and romanticism of Herzog, and combined those with his applied postmodernist worldview to create 2024’s Nosferatu.

In the 1830s, estate agent Thomas Hutter travels to Transylvania for a fateful meeting with Count Orlok, a prospective client. In his absence, Hutter’s new bride, Ellen, is left under the care of their friends, Friedrich and Anna Harding. Plagued by horrific visions and an increasing sense of dread, Ellen soon encounters an evil force that’s far beyond her control.

Egger’s expression of Nosferatu demonstrates a desire to explore themes of mortality, isolation, corruption, and desire all while underscoring each theme with a sense existential dread. The primal fear of death is perhaps the most overt theme, because Orlok represents the lengths people will go in order to escape that which is inevitable. While monstrously depicted in the film, there is a parallel here between that and the obsession people can have in the real world over youth, vitality, and longevity. We can even draw further parallels between the desire vampires have for human blood with the desire humans have for medications and medical procedures that claim to prolong life and youthfulness. 

A recurring there of vampiric imagery is obsession, not only with youth and life, but obsession in connection with desire—specifically primal desires for that which appears or feels forbidden. Long since has the vampire been used as a personification of forbidden desires. While this was particularly true in the Victorian era—what with its many romantic and sexual mores—it can also be seen today by some as the informal boundaries that Western culture places upon depictions of romance and sexuality. In the postmodern era, many feel that the Eastern ways of life are more liberating, and that is represented in the fact that Orlok hails from Eastern Europe (presumably in the area of Transylvania).

Our central character of Ellen (which is a switch from the typical male central character in variations of the Dracula story), represents the idea that some women feel confined by the boundaries placed upon them by a patriarchal society. By Eggers’ endowing the character of Ellen with a greater sense of agency, he is able to convey more focus on the confines of the Western and/or patriarchal world upon the primal desires of Ellen, and how she must overcome the ties that bind her to both written and unwritten societal expectations. In turn, Orlok can be read as the means to free oneself from all societal inhibitions, but that liberation comes at a great cost. Ellen’s desire for Orlok is both attractive and repulsive—she wants what he represents but doesn’t want the monster himself. In the end, the only way to save her town of Wisborg (and world) is by giving into her primal desires as a means of sacrifice. 

One of the biggest differences in both previous versions and Eggers’ is the imagery of Count Orlok himself. In both previous iterations, there was something sympathetic, darkly whimsical, and even suave about the Count; but in this version, Count Orlok is exponentially more monstrous looking, which offers a stark contrast to that of the alluring appeal of the vampire. Interestingly, Eggers’ interpretation of a vampire is much more closely aligned with traditional eastern European folklore than the words and descriptions of Bram Stoker. Reaching beyond the Dracula novel and both previous versions of Nosferatu, Eggers set out to create an interpretation that demonstrated concern for historical detail and traditional folklore to give his version a sense of realism. Unfortunately, this realism is somewhat hampered from beginning to end, given the film takes place in Germany but none of the characters speak with a German accent, much less in Deutsch. But I digress.

Another difference between this Nosferatu and past versions of both Nosferatu and Dracula is the absence of consistent religious iconography or ritual. Even our esteemed Dr. Albin Eberhart (played by Willem DaFoe) incorporates Western medicine, Eastern medicine, and religions from around the world in his cocktail of methods for healing Ellen and vanquishing Count Orlok. This can be read as Egger’s commentary on how all religions are variations of the same thing, and that the best parts of each can be used in dealing with the obstacles of life. In many ways, this is a reflection of the views many have of religion and tradition in a postmodern world—the strength of a religious practice is in the belief itself and not in the person or object at the center of it. Interestingly, however, in contrast to the views many have of evil in a postmodern world, the movie posits the idea that there is evil in the world, and it isn’t a matter of perception or opinion—that there is evil out to devour all good and innocent in the world. What I appreciate about the character of Dr. Eberhart is his views that science and religion are not mutually exclusive; his character demonstrates that both science and religion are two sides of the same coin, and we need both in our lives.

Like with Eggers’ past work, this one too suffers from the same lack of thoughtful plotting that plagues his other films. Whether we are talking The Witch, The Lighthouse, or The Northman, Eggers demonstrably places far more emphasis on atmosphere, production design, and cinematography than he does plotting or character development. In fact, the original Nosferatu demonstrates stronger plotting despite the lack of spoken dialogue and title cards. This remake is yet another example of the shortcomings of prestige horror—focusing on how everything looks versus how it is written and plotted. Moreover, this continues to be a problem I have with many (if not most) writer-directors—the lack of strategic checks and balances. When the writer is also the director, then there isn’t usually someone that is part of the preproduction of a film that is in a position to state that something works on paper that doesn’t work on screen, or something that looks great an screen doesn’t make sense for reasons of storytelling mechanics. While I have many reservations for the demonstrable trends in postmodern horror, I will say that prestige horror works more effectively as the equivalent of the type of art that hangs in a museum beckoning for guests to sit in front of it for hours, contemplating that which is being conveyed by the collection of images.

Ryan is the general manager for 90.7 WKGC Public Media in Panama City and host of the public radio show ReelTalk about all things cinema. Additionally, he is the author of the upcoming film studies book titled Monsters, Madness, and Mayhem: Why People Love Horror. After teaching film studies for over eight years at the University of Tampa, he transitioned from the classroom to public media. He is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

WICKED movie musical review

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By Kurt Feigelis

“A true cinematic spectacle!”

Dear Journal,

It’s been so long since we talked it honestly feels like the first time. Well it happened the Wicked movie finally came out–well partly. I was lucky enough to attend the Press Screening in Tampa. The beloved musical from Broadway has been turned into a film (or more correctly two film installments), and everything leading up to this movie makes you think it wouldn’t work. But surprisingly it did.

I know you know the show, but just in case you forgot. This is the story of the Witches of Oz, of The Wizard of Oz, and boy did a lot happen before Dorothy dropped in. It follows Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo), while at Shiz University and her inevitable journey in becoming the Wicked Witch of the West. Alongside her roommate Glinda (Ariana Grande), an unlikely friendship grows. The themes of being an outsider and yearning to belong rings true in this adaptation. 

Everything leading up to this release makes you think that it should not have worked. Split into two films, Part 1 is too long, the cast has “too many stars”, and has been in development hell for over a decade. Rumors of a movie have been online for about as long as the musical has been on Broadway. Cast rumors include everyone from the original Broadway Cast, to Lea Michele and Amy Adams. But the core of the team was the producers, some of the same names you will find from the original Broadway show, and I think that is why the film works. The rare exception where the producing team delaying the movie for the right cast and director worked. Maybe development hell isn’t always a bad thing.

Wicked Part 1 sings with the feel of classic cinema. I think that came down to the Direction of Jon M. Chu (Crazy Rich Asians, In the Heights). With a focus on real and large 360° sets, practical FX, live singing, and stunts. There is this feeling of realism to this fantastical world. The attention to detail and to do as much on camera as possible captures a live energy most movie musicals do not. Chu has a history of work in music videos, musical films, and large ensemble casts. This properly prepared him for this piece. 

Erivo is just wonderful as Elphaba. This roll is so well known with productions of the show playing all over the world in six different languages. But this is what the magic of what film does. In the theatre you got to play big, to the back of the house. Here, she is able to play it small, the little moments and movements play big for the screen. You get a closer connection to Elphaba you cannot get from the stage.  

Grande shines as well, and you know me, this was the role I was most concerned about. Grande is a very talented performer but many times it is Ariana Grande singing, when she is acting it’s always Ariana, not her character. I am happy to say she truly disappears into Glinda, the (very) Good Witch of the North. This is a testament to her work with vocal and acting coaches she started using even before she auditioned for the part. The comedic role is so often overlooked, but Grande brings something deep to Glinda in this adaptation. Erivo and Grande together, their friendship, is the heart of the movie. The rest of the supporting cast are as wonderful as you would expect with the names listed. There honestly wasn’t a surprise there. 

The musical numbers are pure entertainment. Usually in a movie musical the song and dance just doesn’t seem natural but Wicked does it right. The songs are already well know but they are modified and changed just enough to make them truly cinematic. The Wizard and I, Popular, Dancing Through Life, and the film’s finale Defying Gravity are highlights for sure. 

If you want to nitpick some issues, the sound mixing was unbalanced throughout the movie. Between some of the musical numbers and dialogue scenes, there is an inconsistency. I don’t know if it was the theatre I was in, or the film itself. But, I feel it was the film. There are times when the score is overpowering the vocals. A film this long is always a bit intimidating, especially when trying to bring in a new audience.   But somehow the pacing works. The film doesn’t feel long while watching it. The extra moments with the characters and being brought into this world is much needed. There was not much added into this half of the story. But when transitioning from the stage to the screen. We need extra time for the camera to bring us into the world, to sit and connect to the characters. That is the reason for the additional time. Like Kill Bill, it feels more organic than forced or a money grab like other movies that get split into two.

Live musicals and Broadway adaptations are still a hard sell for audiences, even more so after Joker 2. I think the movie will do well, but with Gladiator II and Moana 2, there is stiff competition, Universal knows this which is why they upped the release date. It feels as though if a movie doesn’t make $1 Billion, it’s not a success to producers or the zeitgeist. Wicked Part 1 will do well with those who love the musical already, but I don’t know if new audiences will be pulled into this one. Which is a shame because it is a good film on its own. I’m curious what newcomers will say about the story and its quirkiness. 

The fandom of Wicked have been talking rumors for over ten years for this film. Then picking apart every visual and audio clip, still, and poster leading up to the premier. Sometimes the fandom does a disservice to what they love. Because of this I think the studio is nervous about the movie, releasing multiple interviews, behind the scenes and clips of the movie online leading up the premier. But out of context these clips are splitting its audience already familiar with the show. The reality is, the film does work. But remember this an adaptation not a remake or recreation of the stage show. Cinema has the power to expand the storytelling and that is what Wicked Part 1 is doing here.

Journal, in the end we need to remember what this movie is. It is the long awaited film adaption of a beloved Broadway Musical. To those that have seen the show I think they will love this movie without taking anything away from what they can see on stage. For a new audience, I think like Chicago, this will breathe new life into an existing phenomenon. People familiar with the show and The Wizard of Oz will see homages to both throughout the film. 

Part 2 comes out sometime in 2025, probably in November as well. We don’t know the run time of the follow up, or any details at all really, but until then we have this film to enjoy. What comes next is all the speculation, rumors and judgments for Part 2 that we had with Part 1. There is something about judging something or someone before getting to know it (or see it) that is unsettling given the story we are all here for. I think Elphaba might have something to say to us about this, but she wouldn’t be surprised.

You’re Movie Buddy,
Kurt Feigelis
R.L. Terry ReelView contributor

THE BEST CHRISTMAS PAGEANT EVER movie review

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A heartwarming reminder of the importance of community. The movie also delivers a thoughtful critique of misplaced values. Based on the beloved 1971 children’s novel by Barbara Robinson, this big screen adaptation is a solid way to kick off the holiday season with a Christmas movie that is sure to fall into the annual movie rotations for many. Although the screenwriting demonstrably lacks refinement, there is still much to like about the movie. After a rocky first act, the movie finds its tone, despite the rough dialogue and poor pacing. Over all, it is an enjoyable movie that I will likely watch again before the Christmas season is over.

The Herdmans are six siblings who have a reputation for being the worst kids in the world. However, when they take over the local church Christmas pageant, they just might teach a shocked community the true meaning of Christmas.

Tonally, this movie falls somewhere between A Charlie Brown Christmas and A Christmas Story. While this movie may not have the same degree of memorable scenes that will find their way into the cultural zeitgeist, there are moments of hilarity and thoughtful poignancy. The movie shies not away from spotlighting the various prejudices and classism that permeate every town, particularly small towns and even amongst the imperfect people that makeup a church, but also uses the various social dynamics, at play, in the film to show how we can change for the better–after all, this is a redemption story. But it’s not a redemption story in the way we have seen in the past, with characters like Scrooge; rather, this is a redemption story about characters that talk the talk, but struggle to walk the walk. Moreover, this redemption story also follows those that are angry with the world and take out that anger and resentment on those around them. All around, this movie is full of imperfect people across the spectrum that need a wakeup call.

The movie works best when it leans into naturalism, but occasionally falters or feels uneven when it tries to strike a balance between typical faith-based movies and more mainstream ones. Some of the characters and conflicts feel like relatable albeit exaggerated versions of real life, while others feel incredibly forced and unnatural. From what I can remember, the Herdmans are more–how shall I say–earthy and raw in the book than in this film adaptation. And while we get glimpses of this, it would’ve been nice to have witnessed more of their behavioral aberrations to drive home how different they were perceived to be from their community. It’s here where we witness that Dallas Jenkins may be a better producer than director.

Bringing her trademark blend of strength, vulnerability, and sense of humor is Judy Greer as Grace, our house mom that unwittingly takes on the biggest event in her small town. All around, the principle cast is solid with a few standout performances. Some of those standout performances are from Knylee Heiman as the manic and terrifying Gladys, Beatrice Schneider as the crass Imogene, and Lorelei Olivia Mote as the self-centered diva Alice. The characters that work best are those that demonstrate stylistic differences compared to the rest of the cast. In other words, it’s the character actors that stand out in this film–and for good reason–they are both funny and act as an exaggerated reflection of real life people. We each know of people in our own lives that feel like these move people. I feel that if more characters were given something to do by the screenplay or director, that the performative dimension would’ve been above average.

Thematically, the movie reminds us that family and community traditions (particularly at Christmastime) are an important part of the human experience; however, the movie continues the conversation by its provocative reminder that traditions devoid of love and flexibility can become a trap or even a monster. It’s not the tradition itself that is important; it’s the love and community building that is most important. The tradition is merely a vessel through which we can extend love to one another. Just like Charlie Brown and his friends are reminded that Christmas is about the birth of baby King in a nondescript manger in a lowly town and, by extension, the radical changes He will bring to the world through His birth, life, death, and resurrection, the townsfolk in Emmanuel (the town in the movie) are reminded that Jesus was born for everyone, including the Herdmans, “the worst kids in the world.” And that we should care more about one another than we do keeping traditions the same simply for the sake of tradition.

After watching the movie, I am inspired to go back a reread the book. I remember reading it as a kid, and I imagine perhaps other kids of the 70s, 80s, and 90s remember reading the book as well.

Ryan taught Film Studies and Screenwriting at the University of Tampa for over eight years and has a book releasing next year titled Monsters, Madness, and Mayhem: Why People Love Horror. Recently, he has taken over 90.7 WKGC NPR in Panama City, and will be launching a film talk show soon. Additionally, he is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

JOKER: FOLIE À DEUX movie review

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Audacious reach undercut by horrendous storytelling. Director Todd Phillips’ Joker: Folie à Deux, which is a sequel to 2019’s Joker, delivers on both a spectacular shot composition and a compelling performative dimension, but falters nearly everywhere else.

The film demonstrably hopes to communicate a sense of gravitas, but it just comes off as a disjoined mess that is punctuated with musical numbers. The musical numbers themselves are actually the most enjoyable parts of the movie, with their blend of Broadway standards, gospel-inspired music, and even energetic swing. But the storytelling, complete with slapdash plotting and cynical, anarchist tone, is simple unbearable. The real joke here is on the audience, for sitting through this cacophony of fragmented plots and characters. Lady Gaga shines brightly–no real surprise there–but Phoenix’ Joker just painful to watch, despite the exceptional quality of his performance. Additionally, the film’s deplorable depiction of law enforcement is inexcusable, even though Phillips attempts to justify that dynamic dramatically. Aside from the abysmal storytelling, the film is blatantly anti-cop, which perpetuates negative, dangerous propaganda associated with our brave men and women serving and protecting our communities. That’s all I have to say about this film. Do yourself a favor, and find something else to watch this weekend at the cinema.

Ryan teaches Film Studies and Screenwriting at the University of Tampa and is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Interested in Ryan making a guest appearance on your podcast or contributing to your website? Send him a DM on Twitter. If you’re ever in Tampa or Orlando, feel free to catch a movie with him.

Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry