COMPANION horror movie review

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

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

TWISTERS movie review

Plot chasers. Despite the great chemistry between the leads of Daisy Edgar-Jones and Glen Powell, this cinematic storm is lacking the necessary elements in both thoughtful plotting and character development to form a compelling story. And while most of the special effects are excellent, it comes off feeling like one long storm chase. If it wasn’t for Edgar-Jones and Powell, I’d just as soon watch the Weather Channel instead. Twisters tries to be too many different kinds of stories, and isn’t successful at any one of them. There is an attempt at underscoring the outside-action narrative(s) with a heart-felt inside-emotional story, but even that isn’t fully developed. While there are some well-written scenes that will pique your interest, aside from the disaster porn dimension of the movie, there isn’t much here of any great interest.

Haunted by a devastating encounter with a tornado, Kate Cooper (Edgar-Jones) gets lured back to the open plains by her friend, Javi, to test a groundbreaking new tracking system. She soon crosses paths with Tyler Owens (Powell), a charming but reckless social-media superstar who thrives on posting his storm-chasing adventures. As storm season intensifies, Kate, Tyler and their competing teams find themselves in a fight for their lives as multiple systems converge over central Oklahoma.

The lack of a compelling narrative has far less to do with Lee Isaac Chung’s directing than it does Mark L. Smith’s screenwriting. No real surprise there since his other recent screenwriting credit is The Boys in the Boat, which also suffered from poor plotting and character development. While Joseph Koskinki receives a story-by credit, clearly he has demonstrated that he is a much better director (Top Gun: Maverick) than he is a writer. Both Twisters and The Boys in the Boat have a compelling story to tell, but the plotting itself (the map of how you get from beginning to end) lacks meaningful direction or focus. The movie sets up one story of overcoming trauma, then becomes a white collar vs blue collar story, then turns into a story about storm profiteering, which morphs into a melodrama about overcoming fear and guilt, just to finish as a romcom. All the while, the external goal of the story, which is setup successfully in the beginning, doesn’t get revisited and become clear until the third act. There is about as much narrative depth in Twisters as any given episode of Storm Chasers. Where is will give Smith, Kosinski, and Chung credit is that they didn’t choose to make this a “preachy” movie about ecoterrorism or climate change. Sometimes bad storm just happen. And that’s what makes them scary; there is no explanation.

Even though the themes of the movie are not very well developed, I like that Smith was trying to do with the subtext of the movie. Without getting into spoilers, there is an attempt at spotlighting how some people that appear that they are trying to help storm victims are actually more interested in profiting off the disaster. Which, I imagine does happen in real life. The movie also has something to say (and this was actually pretty well developed) about not judging the level of competence or motivation based on face-value or first impressions. The very people that look unprofessional may be even more professional and genuine than the ones that appear like they have it all together.

Other than some badly CG’d dandelion fuzz (which should’ve been done practically, c’mon). the rest of the special effects in the movie are excellent. Okay, so maybe excellent is being a bit generous, but I’m trying to give the film some credit for not putting me to sleep. I screened the film in Dolby Cinema, which is the best way to watch this movie because aside from the chemistry between the leads, the reason to watch this movie is for the storms and disaster porn thereof. Perhaps the story is on SyFy or Weather Channel levels, but the storm effects are executed very well. I was disappointed that we did not get a flying cow as a nod to one of the most memorable moments in the wildly popular original Twister. It’s well-known that the first movie literally built and destroyed houses to achieve the full effect and impact of the tornadoes, and it appears that Twisters used miniatures and models for some of the disaster scenes. Practical beats CGI nearly all the time. Also like the first movie, this one also appeared to integrate real footage of tornadoes and the disaster left in their wake.

The force that keeps this movie from falling completely apart is the chemistry between our leads of Daisy Edgar-Jones and Glen Powell. Playing Kate and Tyler, respectively, there is a throwback style (almost romcom-like) romance between the two in the vein of “will they, won’t they.” Even though Kate is our central character, it’s Tyler that receives more thoughtful development. Kate is largely the same from beginning to end, despite a great setup for overcoming trauma and guilt. Both of these characters (and their respective actor) keep this movie from falling completely flat. The playful chemistry between the two gives the film a human dimension that it is sorely lacking otherwise. Moreover, I like the fact that the budding romance between the two did not become the focus of the movie, but it certainly adds to the film in a constructive way. Both Edgar-Jones and Powell have an old-school charm that feel refreshing to see in contemporary cinema.

Whether or not you have recently rewatched the first movie, you can confidently go into this movie knowing all you need to know. There is little, if any, connection to the original 1996 blockbuster. For those that are super fans of the original, I imagine there are more nods to the first movie than that which I identified. If you’re looking for movie this summer to escape the heat with the whole family, then this is a good pick, but don’t expect much more than a mildly entertaining couple of hours.

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

FURIOSA: A MAD MAX SAGA

A meandering cinematic spectacle. FURIOSA: A MAD MAX SAGA delivers on immersive scale and scope, but fails to deliver on a compelling narrative. It’s an exhausting, endless chase through a desert wasteland that’s as devoid of life as the plotless story itself. Clearly writer-director George Miller demonstrates a love for the dystopic universe of Mad Max, but the narrative lacks focus and direction. However, he makes excellent use of world-building and drawing the audience into the high octane action. The problem is, that perpetual high octane action results in a disconnect between the audience and the characters and plot because interest in action alone isn’t sustainable. Ultimately, the spectacular visuals do not compensate for strength of story.

Snatched from the Green Place, young Furiosa falls into the hands of a great biker horde led by the warlord Dementus. Sweeping through the Wasteland, they come across the Citadel, presided over by the Immortan Joe. As the two tyrants fight for dominance, Furiosa soon finds herself in a nonstop battle to make her way home.

The setup of this saga in the Mad Max universe works quite well. In fact, I was pleasantly surprised during the first few minutes of the film because it begins as a character-driven narrative. Unfortunately, that feeling wouldn’t last long. After a fantastic start, the first act slows to a crawl, with only the chase across the desert to provide any kinetic energy. It would’ve worked quite well had there been a balance between the action and character moments, or the inclusion of emotional resets. But once that chase begins, it pretty much does so without ceasing for the remainder of the 2.5-hour movie.

At is most basic elements, well-written story features a well-defined central character with an external goal, and opposition to that goal. In Furiosa, the external goal is setup to be Furiosa returning home (to the Green Place), but then it changes direction to become something else. The something else to which it changes is no longer substantively supported by the setup of the movie and character of Furiosa. Related? Yes. But I do not feel that the movie that began, is the movie that finished. The something else to which it changes could have very well been incidental to achieving the goal of returning home, but instead the movie goes in a different direction in order to match up to Fury Road.

The scale and scope of the film, and immersive atmosphere is truly commendable. The lengths that Miller and his cast and crew had to go in order to film in such a desolate environment was not easy. And the hard work of crafting a world out of a wasteland is exceptional. It is entirely possible that the weakness of story is a result of Miller being director, producer, and writer. Often times, when there lack sufficient checks and balances between writer and director, the story suffers. Simply stated, sometimes a story makes sense in the mind of the director, but they aren’t as gifted at capturing and supporting that story on paper as a writer. And the same can be said for writers whom try their hand at directing. Just because it works on the page, doesn’t mean it works on the screen.

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

DARK PASSAGE (1947) throwback Thursday review

Spectacular and immersive! Dark Passage is the outstanding Bogie-Bacall film noir that you’ve likely never seen or even heard of, but you’ll want to change that. From beginning to end, this motion picture never ceases to draw you into its mysterious, seductive atmosphere. Bogie delivers a noteworthy performance through his dynamic facial expressions and body language, but it’s Bacall that steals the show through her sultry, smart, and sensational screen presence and performance. Dark Passage simultaneously checks all the film noir boxes whilst delivering something fresh and exciting.

Vincent Parry (Bogart) has just escaped from prison after being locked up for a crime he did not commit–murdering his wife. Vincent finds that his face is betraying him, literally, so he finds a plastic surgeon to give him new features. After getting a ride out of town from a stranger, Vincent crosses paths with Irene Jansen (Lauren Bacall), who believes in his innocence and helps him unravel the mystery surrounding his wife’s murder.

The most striking production element of Dark Passage is its innovative use of motivated camera framing and movement, which provides a unique and immersive perspective for the audience. By presenting the action from Vincent’s point of view (POV), the audience is drawn into his experiences and emotions, creating a sense of empathy and connection with the character. This technique adds a layer of suspense and tension to the film, as the audience is kept in the dark about Vincent’s true identity until later in the story. While POV camera is commonplace today, in the 1940s it was almost unheard of, which may have contributed to the reception of the film. But, if you’re searching for an excellent example of emotive POV camera, then definitely add this movie to your watch list.

Thematically, the film concerns itself with exploring concepts such as identity, justice, and redemption. Vincent’s transformation through plastic surgery raises questions about the nature of identity and whether changing one’s appearance can truly alter who they are on psychological, physiological, and emotional levels. As Vincent searches for his late wife’s real killer in order to clear his name, he grapples with issues of morality and the quest for justice in a corrupt world.

Underscoring the aforementioned themes is the compelling and complex relationship between Vincent and Irene. Irene’s unwavering belief in Vincent’s innocence provides him with hope and motivation to continue his search for the truth. Their growing bond adds depth to the story and serves as a contrast to the darker elements of the plot, because of the humor generated by their conflicting personalities. Film noir isn’t characterized merely by grayscale images (commonly referred to as black and white), but specifically the high contrast between light and dark. The high contrast isn’t only communicated visually, but is communicated thematically as well. In Dark Passage, the humor in Vincent and Irene’s relationship is the light to the film’s dark elements. 

Lauren Bacall delivers a captivating performance as the determined Irene Jansen, Bacall’s portrayal of Irene is both alluring and sympathetic, adding depth to the character and serving as a crucial counterpart to Humphrey Bogart’s Vincent. Bacall’s performance exudes confidence and intelligence, traits that are essential for Irene as she navigates the morally ambiguous world of the film noir genre.

Perhaps the very definition and embodiment of femme fatale, Bacall communicates strength and cunning whilst never at the expense of sensuality and seduction. Moreover, she simultaneously conveys both fortitude and vulnerability beneath her character’s poised exterior. Bacall authentically portrays a relatable human dimension, allowing the audience to empathize with Irene’s plight and unwavering support for Vincent.

Furthermore, Bacall brings a sense of sophistication and glamour to the role, seamlessly fitting into the noir aesthetic. Her distinctive voice and sultry demeanor add to Irene’s allure, making her a memorable presence in every scene in which she appears. Humphrey Bogart delivers a compelling and nuanced performance in the film, even when we do not see him. Even his voice work is outstanding. His portrayal of Vincent is a masterclass in film noir acting, showcasing his ability to convey complex emotions and inner conflict.

Bogart’s performance is particularly noteworthy for his use of facial expressions and body language to convey Vincent’s emotions. Even when his face is hidden from view during the first part of the film, Bogart manages to convey a wide range of emotions through his voice and physical presence alone. His expressive eyes, in particular, become a focal point for conveying Vincent’s inner turmoil and determination.

Bogie’s performance is a truly an underrated performance in his illustrious career. With his skillful portrayal of Vincent Parry, Bogart elevates the film beyond its genre trappings, creating a compelling and unforgettable character that lingers in the minds of audiences long after the credits roll.

On an aesthetic level, one of film noir’s most striking elements is the high contrast grayscale imagery. The moody grayscale cinematography brilliantly captures the shadowy streets of San Francisco, thus crafting an atmosphere of dread. Beyond mere aesthetics, however, the lighting and camera movement communicate a sense of unease and mystery, mirroring Vincent’s (and by extension film noir’s) emotional journey through this murky world of crime and deception.

Why isn’t this brilliant picture more well-known? Most likely the reasons are three fold (1) competition from other better-known Bogie-Bacall collaborations like The Big Sleep (2) overt subjective camera framing and movement and (3) availability on broadcast/cable TV and home video.

Points one and three are somewhat interlinked because other Bogie-Bacall pictures like A Gentleman’s Agreement and The Big Sleep are much better known because they received higher praise from critics and audiences (even though Dark Passage received mostly positive reviews at the time of its release). And because of this, other Bogie-Bacall pictures received more airtime on broadcast and cable TV and were more widely available to own on home video and DVD. The second point, which may have led to the mixed-positive reception, concerns the (what would’ve been interpreted at the time as experimental) subjective camera techniques. In retrospect, the POV shots are an outstanding use of motivated camera movement that simultaneously conveys the film’s theme of identity and advances the plot. 

While not as well-known as it should be, Dark Passage holds significance within the film noir genre and remains appreciated by cinephiles for its innovative cinematography, compelling performances from Bogie and Bacall, and atmospheric storytelling. And underscoring the technical and performative achievement is the film’s exploration of identity and injustice. It remains a captivating and influential motion picture.

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