SPEAK NO EVIL horror movie review

An entertaining and terrifying thrill ride. Blumhouse and Universal’s Speak No Evil, starring James McAvoy, excels in plotting and atmosphere but falters in character building and development. Based on the Danish film by the same name, director James Watkins’ version is a methodical and spellbinding descent from dream to nightmare. The highlight of the film is McAvoy’s completely manic performance that is simultaneously comedic and unsettling. Whilst Watkins attempts to bestow upon the high concept narrative thoughtful social commentary on image, isolation, and identity, the commentary is inconsistent and lacks the gravitas to truly be compelling or provocative.

A dream holiday turns into a living nightmare when an American couple and their daughter spend the weekend at a British family’s idyllic country estate.

That which is most personal is most relatable, and can be the most terrifying. And what can be more personal and relatable than the need for a relaxing vacation in the peaceful countryside? That is precisely where this decent into a nightmare begins. Speak No Evil may take its time (albeit justified) in setting up the conflict, but once that second act kicks into gear, it is a nonstop thrill ride into isolation and violation. Keep the cast small, the film is able to spend sufficient time in developing the plot and keeping with proper pacing for the tight storytelling. From the very beginning, the piping is laid for everything that audiences will encounter in the second and third acts, with every shot, scene, and sequence pointing towards the shocking conclusion.

Violence on screen is minimal; however, when it hits, it HITS. But that hit isn’t always visual; many times it is psychological in nature, which in many ways, is even more terrifying. Throughout this film, the terror on screen is transferred into the minds of the audience. Part of that is because of the degree of relatability in this story. Many of us have been on vacation in a new place or even moved to a new place unfamiliar to us–perhaps in or to another country–and we are often desperate for friendship or companionship of any kind in order to begin to feel more at home. Therefore, the setup of this film is one to which many of us can relate–and that’s what makes it particularly terrifying. The thought that we could unwittingly befriend a monster.

While the social commentary on isolation, identity, and image is inconsistent and weak, I appreciate what Watkins was trying to do; although, there is one aspect of the film that was screaming for a redemption arc that was so obviously squandered (and actually hurt the quality of the film). Speak No Evil depicts many expressions of isolation. Isolation from friends and family, isolation from the urban core, isolation within one’s family. And it’s this isolation that greatly heightens the level of suspense and terror.

Additionally, the film depicts the identities (or facades) that we project to the world when we are hiding something or feel insecure because we wield it like a sort of armor. Moreover, this identity can also harbor inconsistencies that lead to a lack of authenticity and meaningful motivation. Perhaps this identity is merely a facade that is intended to make others feel uncomfortable or to project an image that sets one apart simply out of fear of being found out as little more than keeping up with what’s trending on social media. Furthermore, the attempted commentary on image is depicted in a variety of ways throughout the film.

The weakness in the film is found in the character building and development. Not with all the characters, but enough that it mitigates the potential of the film to deliver a compelling story. Without getting into spoilers, I want to discuss where the film had an opportunity an an effective character redemption arc, but pandered to what’s presently trending in movies instead of providing a constructive character arc that would’ve benefitted the film by adding a since of compelling meaning. Strong characters are not strong because those around them are weak; to craft a strong character through that methodology makes for a weakened (and less compelling) character because ostensibly standards have been lowered.

Strong characters are at their strongest when other characters are strong, complete with dimension as well. There is a character in the movie that lost their job, and have been personally struggling with feelings of anger, inadequacy, and failure–that is completely relatable as it is very much a human response to losing ones income and livelihood. Where the film fails is setting this character up to overcome the feeling of failing their family and at life, but never doing anything with it, and merely reinforce weakness. I imagine this was done to make their counterpart appear stronger. But it amounts to lazy storytelling that reinforces negative imagery.

The character that is the most entertaining is James McAvoy’s Paddy. I cannot think of any other actor working today that could’ve brought this character to life nearly as well as McAvoy. In an otherwise par for the course performative dimension in the film, he brings a kinetic energy that draws audiences into the macabre, twisted tale. From the very beginning, we can tell that there is something a little off about his character, but never enough to know precisely where he stands. When he goes full-on manic mode, we are in for the ride because he makes us laugh and gasp in horror all at the same time.

Everything about this movie would make for a fantastic house at next year’s Halloween Horror Nights at Universal Orlando and Hollywood. The farmhouse at the center of the movie is a labyrinth and hints at a variation of the hillbilly horror aesthetic. I can see how this film’s characters and setting could adapt well to an HHN house, so I would not be surprised if we see this intellectual property featured at next year’s HHN.

Speak No Evil may lack dimension that could’ve made it a more compelling narrative than what we received; however, it’s still an entertaining thrill ride that will have you laughing and screaming. A solid popcorn horror movie that has some degree of rewatchability.

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

BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE movie review

Forgettable and messy. The long awaited and much anticipated sequel to the campy cult classic Beetlejuice is unfortunately an underwhelming return to the fantastical, whimsical universe of colorful and dynamic characters. I’m left asking myself, this is the story for which Burton has been waiting???

Three generations of the Deetz family return home to Winter River after an unexpected family tragedy. Still haunted by Beetlejuice, Lydia’s life soon gets turned upside down when her rebellious teenage daughter discovers a mysterious portal to the afterlife. When someone says Beetlejuice’s name three times, the mischievous demon gleefully returns to unleash his very own brand of mayhem.

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is a disjoined mess of setup after setup, with little development or meaningful resolution. Even though it successfully channels some of the charm and macabre whimsy of the original, this one is missing something vital–heart. What is most painful to witness is that there is actually a good and even compelling story in there, but its’ buried beneath a garbage heap of subplots and characters that are little more than the equivalent of an NPC (video game-speak for non player character). While the screenplay is abysmal, the bright spots in the movie are Michael Keaton’s delightful reprisal of Beetlejuice, despite his reveal appearing too early in the story. Other highlights of the movie are the quintessentially Burton special makeup and practical effects, including miniatures and puppetry. And composer Danny Elfman lends his distinctive authorship to the score. For fans of the original, this one is likely going to disappoint, but perhaps for those that may be getting introduced to the world of Beetlejuice for the first time, will seek out the original campy classic. At the end of the day, it’s not all bad, but it’s far from good. At best, it’s sufficiently entertaining.

Before getting into what didn’t work, which is substantive, I’d be remiss not to spotlight what the movie did right. The big question, did Burton and Keaton revive ol’ Beetlejuice? And the answer is, yes. The character of Beetlejuice himself is the reason the movie has enjoyable moments and will keep you moderately entertained. Keaton delivers a Beetlejuice that makes you forget that he hasn’t played this character in nearly 40 years. For the most part, he captures the energy, wit, sarcasm, and offbeat charm of his original incarnation. Unfortunately, that cannot be said for the rest of the performative dimension. But more on that later.

Over all, the design of the movie harkens back to the Burton’s golden age in the 80s and 90s, except when he lays practical effects over CGI backgrounds or oscillates between both mechanical and digital in jarring ways. From beginning to end, movie magic is witnessed everywhere. Burton was committed to capturing the imagery of the original in both the costumes and set design, and by in large, he accomplished just that. This movie is a reminder that computers cannot replace the way real light bounces off real objects into the camera lens. The magic of motion pictures is a combination of tactile, chemical, performative, and lighting elements. Despite the Afterlife lacking true camp value, it was a successful return to the imaginative world created by Burton in the original movie.

Regrettably, the movie fails to deliver a compelling or even coherent story. It’s a disjoined mess of ideas that couldn’t have possibly made sense on paper, let alone on the screen. The first act moves along sluggishly, but picks up pacing in the second and third; however, very little (if anything of meaningful value) is developed or resolved that is setup in the first and second acts. There are literally entire characters that serve little to no purpose in the story. And, without getting into spoilers, there is a compelling plot that is excellently setup, but the development and resolution is so sloppy it just hurts the narrative all the more. Even a notable cameo is completely wasted as it bears little importance to the story. It’s hard to even call it a story because it’s lacking a plot, a central character, and a character of opposition; there isn’t even a real goal to be achieved. While the character of Beetlejuice is known for his chaotic behavior, the narrative need’t exhibited the same level of randomness and chaos as exhibited by our title character.

Speaking of characters, the reason that the performative dimension is sorely lacking any modicum of substance is because the characters are given nothing to do. There is little reason for anyone to be doing anything. Furthermore, the Delia and Lydia we get in the original are not the Delia and Lydia we witness in this movie, and Lydia’s daughter Astrid is simply not believable as an angsty teenager. With a little motivation and dimension, the characters would’ve likely been highly entertaining and compelling; but, they are lacking any dimension whatsoever.

Tonally, the movie is all over the place. All over the place except for the one place it needed to be. And that is camp. For a movie that should’ve eat, slept, breathed camp, it plays it too seriously and tonally inconsistent. Yes, there are what we would usually refer to as campy costumes and characters in the movie, but the context is lacking that camp aesthetic and sensibility, for which Burton is (or used to be) known. Contributing to the tone of the movie is the Elfman score that only feels like Elfman sometimes. It’s like a composer imitating Elfman. Yes, we get the classic Beetlejuice theme music, but other than that, I’d be hard -pressed to identify any other musical moments that felt like Elfman.

The movie does deliver some entertaining moments, but sadly they are few in number. When the movie works, it works! But it simply does not work sufficiently enough. Also, the lines “…strange and unusual” and “it’s showtime” are nowhere to be found. There was also a setup for a much-needed scathing critique on influencers and influencer culture, but that setup too wasn’t developed. So many great ideas that are completely disconnected.

Watch if you simply want to enjoy some movie magic and familiar characters, but don’t expect to be quoting this sequel like you do the original. I’ll leave you with this, the fact that Lydia’s TV show is titled “Ghost House” is a nice nod to the original title of Beetlejuice.

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

ALIEN: ROMULUS review

In space, these characters are screaming for dimension. Fede Alvarez’ Alien: Romulus is the closest in form that we have had since the masterful Alien (1979). And while the premise and plot are fairly solid, the plotting and exquisite design cannot compensate for the poorly written characters.

The most human character is a synthetic human, and he is the only character that is thoughtfully crafted. When characters struggle to connect with audiences, then the audience couldn’t care less whether they live or die–ostensibly mitigating any real stakes. The central character is mostly flawless and we never feel as though that they will be injured, much less die (I’m avoiding spoilers). The original Alien delivers incredibly well-written and developed characters that we want to survive. Alien: Romulus‘ characters–well–they should’ve all perished for lack of anything truly compelling. Additionally, this cast is way too young to be taken seriously in these roles that would be better suited for a cast that was at least 10–15 years older.

Where the film does succeed is the throwback design and feel of everything from beginning to end. Even the CG is integrated very well with the much-welcomed use of practical effects. Practical beats CG, nearly every time. Even though this movie is releasing more than forty years from the original, it feels very much connected to that iconic motion picture in form. Everything from the production design to the sounds to the music kept me from completely disengaging from the film. Alvarez has a fantastic eye for composition and atmosphere, but his screenwriting and character development are not on par with the technical achievement of the film. If you love the original Alien, then definitely see Romulus, and have fun with it. But I don’t imagine you will be rewatching this one over and over like the one that started it all. At least, it was way more meaningful than anything that released after Aliens.

Apologies for the short review of a movie that I highly anticipated. But Disney chose not to screen the film for all the critics in the CACF.

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

AMERICAN PSYCHO: a retrospective analysis

We all go a little mad sometimes. Once nearly banned on bookshelves, American Psycho (2000) is the film adaptation of a book about materialism, narcissism, yuppie culture, and the inter-personal empty feeling that comes along with it. Interestingly, despite this film commenting on and taking place in the 1980s, it also holds strong relevance for the 2020s. Except, if this movie were made in the 2020s, its social commentary would be on toxic consumerism, social media influencer culture, and political polarization.

Even though the central character of Patrick Bateman (Christian Bale) reeks of snobbery and pretension, Mary Herron’s brilliant horror-meets-dark comedy motion picture is raw, gritty, and unapologetic. The movie that was once protested by women was, in fact, directed by a woman. It’s a candid, fantastical exploration of the state of humanity when it loses its identity in exchange for the facades of prestige, money, and power. Herron externalizes all the emotions and thought processes she is exploring through the actions of Bateman. It’s a visual representation of what happens when we become so consumed with the image we project to others that we lose ourselves and are left feeling empty.

Not only is this a great horror film, but a great film period. Equal parts horror and comedy, this film can be characterized as a motion picture that forces us to reconcile our aspirations for wealth, power, and what happens when we fail to make genuine emotional connections with other individuals because we are completely consumed by image and status. Furthermore, there is a fascinating character study here on trying to fit into a society that you really don’t want to fit into, but don’t know what the other options are. Therefore you act on impulses instead of recognizing them in order to critically analyze if they indeed are the right things to do.

One of the qualities of the experience of watching a horror film compared to other genres is the power it has to force us to face our fears, look in the mirror (pun intended), and question the world around us. Moreover, it allows us to explore hard-to-talk-about subjects because it approaches them in creative, visual ways. that force us to think about some societal observation or construct in new and different ways.

In many ways, Patrick Bateman is us; the us we are when no one is looking. Perhaps most of us are not serial killers, but we certainly have a running commentary on the world around us. Also like Bateman, if we are not careful, we can fall prey to our own animalistic, self-centered instincts. I also love how this movie parallels the vicious nature of Wall Street with the murder sprees of Bateman. In this movie, it’s Wall Street, but it could very well be any number of work places. Perhaps there is little relatability to the characters on the surface, but dig a little deeper and this film is quite the microcosm of the world we live in.

American Psycho provides audiences a complex central character whose existence is more indebted to the dire strife of his reality than to the antagonism or conflicts posed by others. It’s an internal conflict that manifests itself in the elaborate, personal murders as well as the masturbatory discussions of dinner reservations and business cards. Through all of this, Bateman tries to feel something because society’s expectations have made him numb to humanity.

Although the topics of materialism, narcissism, and yuppie culture are explored in the film, the core of the film is actually about one’s self-identity. And much like Bateman’s iconic character, society in the 2000s (and by extension, the 2020s), was and is also concerned with issues of identity and where to find it after the transitional 1990s. The world of Bateman is hermetically sealed, yet there is a yearning to be set apart as an individual within this otherwise homogenous world of high rises, offices, business cards, and physical fitness. Efforts to be recognized as an individual are not limited to Bateman, but can be found in his colleagues. Moreover, any effort made by our officious, pretentious characters to be individuals within the confines of the depicted toxic culture, are shunned, ridiculed, and even ostracized.

These trivial assets are used as a means to form something resembling a personality, but so benign and meaningless that they can’t be anything other than a shallow, soulless facade, lacking any substance. There is an arbitrary box that everyone must fit into, but it’s merely a device to validate one’s existence. Validation through some arbitrary societal contract that somehow defines what one is supposed to be and how one is suppose to act WHEN people are looking. Sounds a lot like social media in the 2010s and 20s.

Many horror films began to incorporate more overt socio-political arguments and conflicts that paralleled during and emerged after the terrorism events of 9/11. The source of the terror in the real world was transported into the fictional diegesis of the horror film. This era of horror was much darker and more disturbing than its 80s and 90s counterparts. More than merely an increase in the viciousness on screen, additionally, this era of horror was socially aware of the cultural context that gave birth to it. By 2004, the news was filled with stories of enhanced-interrogation techniques that came under scrutiny from some anti-war and human rights groups. And this idea found its way from the news media into horror media.

One of the great mysteries of American Psycho is whether or not Bateman has actually committed any of the murders and violent acts in the movie. There are hypotheses that suggest that it’s all in his head, that we as the audience have witnessed the imagery of his mind and not his actions in real life. While the book American Psycho doesn’t leave anything to the imagination, Harron chose to withhold dramatic information from the audience in order to afford the audience the opportunity to form images in the mind, which can sometimes (and often are) more potent and powerful.

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

ROGER CORMAN: A Tribute

Roger Corman was a trailblazer for independent filmmaking and left an indelible mark upon motion pictures. With a career spanning over six decades, Corman’s influence on the industry is woven into the very fabric of cinematic history. Not only was he a prolific filmmaker in the horror genre, but his decades-long career included science fiction and exploitation as well.

Despite working with limited resources, Corman churned out film after film through his assembly-line like process. In addition to his films, Corman was also responsible for launching the careers of some of the biggest Hollywood legends Jack Nicholson, Francis Ford Coppola, Joe Dante, Martin Scorsese, and many more. Because Corman simply loved movies and working with anyone that was hardworking and creative, many that would go onto A-list careers got their start working for him. Corman’s influence extends beyond his own films; his entrepreneurial spirit and willingness to take risks inspired generations of independent filmmakers to pursue their creative visions outside the now-defunct studio system.

Corman consistently demonstrated an innate passion for visual storytelling. And his particular flare for the screen led him to carve out a niche in the world of low-budget genre films. With an incredible eye for identifying talent and an unparalleled ability to transform low-budget schlock into cinematic gold, he became a pioneer of independent filmmaking, defying film business and production conventions and pushing the boundaries of cinematic art.

Looking at the filmography of pictures directed or produced by Corman, it’s clear to see that his work reads like a love letter to cinema itself, particularly within the horror and science-fiction genres. His films were often campy and fun. Just watching his pictures, it’s evident that he was having so much fun with everyone on set, both in front of the camera and behind the scenes. The plots were simple; but like a little black dress, he accessorized beautifully them to create memorable experience after memorable experience. His films, though often made with limited resources, possessed an undeniable charm and inventiveness that captured the imagination of audiences worldwide. Whether unleashing creatures from the depths of space or exploring the darkest recesses of the human psyche, Corman’s knew precisely how to take us to worlds unknown or unchartered territories of our own world.

Corman’s ability to create compelling narratives that maximized limited resources is unmatched by any other filmmaker. He perfected how to effectively blend genres and tap into the cultural zeitgeist with innovative, budget-friendly filmmaking techniques. Commonly found in his unique genre blends is a foundation in horror. Whether it was science-fiction, exploitation, film noir, or adventure movies, there is nearly always some horror adjacency found in the tone, plot, and characters. Monster from the Ocean Floor (1954), It Conquered the World (1956), Attack of the Crab Monsters (1957), Machine-Gun Kelly (1958), Bucket of Blood (1958), House of Usher (1960), Little Shop of Horrors (1960), and The Masque of Red Death (1964) are some of his best-known films. Even the films he chose to distribute delivered his authorship like Carnival of Souls (1962). From the silly to the serious, Corman made an intentional effort to keep up with changing tastes in cinema, and channeled his knowledge of the pulse of popular culture into his films.

Appearing frequently in Corman’s pictures (and the pictures of William Castle “king of the gimmicks”) was screen legend Vincent Price. His and Corman’s recurring collaboration is one of the most celebrated partnerships in the history of cinema. The talents of both men complemented one another perfectly, and they created some of the most memorable horror B-movies of all time. What made this partnership truly special was their appreciation of and respect for the material with which they were working. Corman’s trademark atmospheric storytelling and Price’s commanding screen presence worked seamlessly together to elevate the B-movie into cinematic art in every measurable sense by infusing it with sophistication, intelligence, and a touch of macabre humor.

You can catch some of his movies on SVENGOOLIE on MeTV on Saturday nights.

I had hoped to interview him for my upcoming book Monsters, Madness, and Mayhem: Why People Love Horror, but I will sadly not get that chance. But he leaves behind a legacy of love for entertaining people through the motion pictures he directed and produced. He was one of the last connections to the golden age of horror and science-fiction B-movies.

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