Category Archives: General Entertainment

COMPANION horror movie review

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A wild, albeit predictable ride. New Line Cinema’s Companion, written and directed by Drew Hancock, is an entertaining cautionary tale on how ultimate control, ultimately corrupts. Moreover, the film provides a thoughtful critique on the (in this case) deadly consequences of attempting to exert that desire for ultimate control over an individual, thus rendering mute their unique individuality. The film also paints a provocative portrait of the relationship between humanity and artificial intelligence (and androids) by establishing a seemingly controlled environment that then devolves into one of chaos. This progression reflects the overarching theme of attempts at ultimate control by underscoring the illusion of the ability to exert ultimate control over the human spirit, even if that “humanity” is housed within an artificial intelligence. Hancock’s screenplay is lean and mean, and nicely balances the horror elements with both lighthearted and dark comedy. Even though many of the plot beats were predictable, the movie still succeeded in remaining engaging and fun–just goes to show that there is a beauty to genre movies.

A weekend getaway turns bloody and violent when a subservient android that’s built for human companionship goes haywire.

Hancock’s film effectively blends elements of horror and comedy to explore contemporary anxieties surrounding individualism, artificial intelligence, and the ethical implications of control for the purposes of subjugation. Audiences are challenged by the plot and characters to reflect on the moral responsibilities involved in the creation and control of artificial-sentient beings. By prompting the audience to consider the consequences, the film is positing questions concerning the very nature of humanity and the desire and limits of control. Furthermore, the film demonstrates that when given seemingly ultimate control, that primal desires for ultimate control surface, thus reminding us that we have to learn to be generous, kindly, and altruistic because we are naturally born rather selfish and self-centered. Ultimate control, ultimately corrupts. Without reasonable checks and balances, the results of absolute control can be negative and quite possibly even deadly to the human spirit.

As artificial intelligence increases in human-like problem solving and expression, we have to ask ourselves how far will be go to both create and control artificial intelligence as it slowly approaches android-like technology. Will androids be controlled like a typical robot or mindless automaton or will they be granted sentient status like Data on Star Trek: the Next Generation‘s critically acclaimed episode “The Measure of a Man”? Without derailing from my review of Companion too much, I am reminded of this outstanding Trek episode that actually does a much better job of addressing topics of autonomy and control than Hancock’s film. The episode critiques the idea that beings created for a (even at one time, pre-determined) purpose (especially artificial ones) can be controlled or owned. Data’s ability to choose his own destiny is at stake. Captain Picard argues, in the trial that is convened to determine Data’s humanity, that intelligence, self-awareness, and consciousness make someone a sentient individual, not merely their biological nature.

Where I feel that Hancock’s film falls short is in its social commentary is the limitations it places on itself in its expression of the themes with which it underscores the plotting and characters. For the greatest impact, it should have been more consistent in the exploration of ultimate control over a seemingly sentient individual. Instead of crafting a film that could be more broadly applied, Hancock’s story falls into the trap of being too focuses on a overly generalized stereotype of particular individuals versus crafting a narrative that was more broadly concerning itself with depicting robbing sentient beings of their individualistic humanity–their free will. The sharpest criticism is clearly aimed at one particular character (and the demographic they represent). But eventually the idea of control over an individual snares another group. And for a moment, there was hope that Hancock was extending his critique to be more inclusive, but it returns to being focused on the original demographic group. This extension would have been a reminder that anyone can find themselves drawn to how far one can push the limits of control over a lover, friend, or other platonic, professional, or romantic relationship. It’s a trait that runs through everyone, and we have to learn to control our innate selfish and self-centered behaviors with which we are born.

While I have some reservations in the consistency and accuracy of theming in the film, Companion remains a solid horror films that serves as a reminder of the consequences of exerting ultimate control over an individual. The pacing, plotting, character development, and technical elements work together very well to keep the audience entertained on this wild ride.

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

PRESENCE horror film review

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It’s, well, interesting. As soon as I saw that David Koepp was the screenwriter, I was instantly intrigued. While I’m hit or miss with Soderbergh, I’m generally hit with Koepp. But, I find this film’s apparatus to be more interesting than the story itself. While Presence is ostensibly a ghost story, it derives much of its intrigue–not from its narrative–but from its formal and technological apparatus. Soderbergh, known for his experimental approach to filmmaking, employs an innovative first-person perspective; however, this stylistic choice, coupled with Soderbergh’s meticulous control over framing, lighting, and movement and Koepp’s minimalist screenplay, resulted in elevating the film’s formal qualities above its forgettable plot and one-dimensional characters.

In short, the film is about a family that moves into a suburban house and becomes convinced they’re not alone.

The film unfolds through the perspective of an unseen spectral presence, effectively turning the camera into an active participant rather than a passive observer. This shift from traditional storytelling to experiential cinema foregrounds the act of seeing and being seen, inviting viewers to consider their own complicity in the voyeuristic aspects of horror. The film’s reliance on long takes and fluid camerawork creates an unsettling sense of omnipresence, emphasizing the medium’s ability to manipulate space and perception.

While Koepp’s screenplay is serviceable in its exploration of haunted house tropes, it often feels secondary to the film’s preoccupation with its own form. Koepp’s screenwriting is characterized by minimalistic dialogue and a structure devoid of conventional plotting. Rather than relying on his penchant for exposition-heavy scripts, Koepp wrote a screenplay that relied primarily on subtext and visual cues, thus inviting the audience to experience the story through mood versus visually-driven stimuli. The film’s thees such as literal and metaphoric isolation, family dysfunction, and the effects of trauma, feel much more like scaffolding for Soderbergh’s technical experimentation than an actual story. Koepp’s unconventional screenplay paired with Soderbergh’s experimental filmmaking results in a film wherein the mechanics of cinema take precedence over traditional storytelling.

Ultimately, Presence is most compelling when considered as an exercise in film form rather than a compelling story itself. The filmmaking apparatus generates a more profound engagement than its plot and characters, which hurts the potential this film had given its pedigree of talent. Soderbergh and Koepp crafted a film that is less about a haunted house and more about reimagining the voyeuristic capabilities of cinema itself. By leveraging cutting-edge camera systems and post-production techniques, Soderbergh set out to blur the line between observer and observed, in an attempt to create an uncanny sense of intimacy and detachment, but it failed to stick with this critic long after the credits rolled.

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

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