I sit in on the CFRA Ottawa morning show with host Bill Carroll to talk about the new movies coming to theatres including the Facebook drama “The Social Reckoning” and the documentary “Run Terry Run.”
Listen to the whole thing HERE!
Big monsters are back. Movies like “The Host” and “Cloverfield” have reintroduced audiences to that rarest, but biggest of beasts, the giant out-of-control monster. Who needs vampires and zombies when you could have a ninety foot tall squid with a bad attitude and a Christmas bulb for a head?
Another addition to the big monster genre is “Monsters,” an indie movie that reportedly only cost $15,000. Part road trip, part romance and all atmosphere, the story of Andrew (Scoot McNairy), an opportunistic photojournalist, who must escort his boss’s daughter, Sam (Whitney Able), back to the U.S. border through the treacherous quarantine area inhabited by… you guessed it, giant creatures left there when a NASA space craft carrying samples of extraterrestrial life crashed.
It’s a pure b-movie premise and for the first fifteen minutes or so promises to be little more than a Roger Corman film with better CGI. Then something happens. The movie becomes about the relationship between total opposites Andrew and Sam as they bond over their trip’s hardships and the strangeness of their surroundings. It’s a giant monster movie that focuses on the characters and despite some wild plot contrivances, it works.
The character study is a slow burn that leads up to the big reveal, the unveiling of the creatures. For most of the film they are seen and not heard but director Gareth Edwards paces the film carefully building up suspense through use of sound effects to climax with a wild mating dance between two of the Lovecraftian beasts. It’s a strangely beautiful and eerie sequence that brings the movie to a close.
“Monsters” isn’t as effective as “District 9” or “Cloverfield,” two other recent movies that introduced us to new creatures, but it is a complex film with timely messages about immigration (the US is protected by a giant fence to keep the monsters out) and our reactions in times of danger.
I join the Bell Media Radio Network national night time show “Shane Hewitt and the Night Shift” to talk about the number one movie ever and one of the lowest grossing films of the year. Then I review “The Social Reckoning,” now playing on theatres, and suggest some viral cocktails to enjoy with the movie!
Listen to the whole thing HERE!
Watch the whole thing HERE!
In olden days fairy tales were not meant for children. Until The Brothers Grimm came along, and despite their ominous sounding name, cleaned up folkloric tales like Snow White and Sleeping Beauty by removing all the sex and most of the violence, fairy tales were best told after the kids went to bed. So it is with Coraline, a new animated movie based on the Hugo Award-winning book by Neil Gaiman. On the surface it looks like a kid’s movie with stop motion animation and a young central character, but make no mistake this is a PG13 movie filled with creepy images that could send the little ones straight from the theater to the psychiatrist’s couch.
Coraline’s (the voice of Dakota Fanning) journey into a strange and scary new world begins when her parents (Teri Hatcher and John Hodgman) rent an apartment in a peculiar house called The Pink Palace. Upstairs in the attic is circus performer Mr. Bobinski (Ian McShane) and his troupe of musical mice. Downstairs are a pair of retired actresses, Miss Forcible (Jennifer Saunders) and Miss Spink (Dawn French), who share their apartment ith a menagerie of Scottie dogs, some alive, some stuffed. Despite the colorful neighbors Coraline is bored. Her parents neglect her and the only other kid in the neighborhood is the weeby Wybie Lovat. Things get more interesting when she discovers a mysterious door hat leads to a mirror reality, an eccentric Alice Through the Looking Glass world, where er parents pay attention to her and life is interesting. It isn’t until things take a dark turn hat Coraline realizes she may never escape the eerie Other World and return home to her eal parents.
I’ll say it again, despite Coraline’s storyline about a young girl trying to find her way back to her parents and the animation, (it’s the first stop-motion animated feature to be originally filmed in 3D), this is not a movie for little kids. The New York Times called the novel “one of the most truly frightening books ever written” and while the movie tones down some of the scares for the big screen, it is still a chilling ride.
Visually it’s a cross between Pee Wee’s Playhouse and the gonzo caricatures of Ralph Steadman. Director Henry Selick, the brains behind James and the Giant Peach and The Nightmare Before Christmas, has created two unique worlds: Coraline’s mundane day-to-day world and the heightened existence she has behind the mysterious door. Both are flights of fancy, from a garden that recreates Coraline’s face to the marching mouse band. Rendered with great imagination and beauty by Selick and his team the film is pure cinematic eye candy.
Luckily the story equals the surreal imagery. Coraline’s journey to the dark mirror image of her life is effectively scary not because it offers a thrill a minute but because it plays on primal fears, the dread of being abandoned, the unknown and claustrophobia. These basic feelings form the backbone of the story and the inventive visuals and nice voice work from Dakota Fanning and the supporting cast do the rest.
Coraline is the rare animated film that succeeds both as mainstream entertainment and art
Terry Fox’s 1980 run across Canada to raise money for cancer research is a well-documented story, known to many Canadians. Despite that familiarity, the new feature length documentary “Run Terry Run” offers up new footage that packs a renewed emotional wallop.Constructed from almost 100 hours of newly uncovered film, much of it shot during the Marathon of Hope or leftover from John Simpson’s 1981 CBC film “Terry Fox: I Had a Dream,” the new film transports us back to 1980. Like a newly opened time capsule it is locked in time, with no modern flourishes. Director Sean Menard forms a picture of Fox and his compassion and courage from the restored archival material, not from retrospective talking head interviews or the addition of newly shot footage.
It’s a trip backwards in time, one that provides an up close and personal look at Fox. From his exhaustion and humor to his stubbornness and humility, it’s as intimate a portrait as we’re ever likely to get.
The story of the plainspoken but philosophical twenty-two-year-old everyman whose Marathon of Hope mission, to run across Canada on one leg and raise a donation of $1 from every Canadian for cancer research, was cut short by cancer, is tragic, and the film, as it winds down to the conclusion of Fox’s run, is devastating.
Time has put Fox on a pedestal, celebrating him for the hero he was, but this film reminds us that he was also a twenty-two-year-old looking forward to a future which, sadly, he never got to experience.
It’s sad, but it is also a story of a country coming together to support one remarkable, determined young man. In our age of fracture and cynicism, it’s refreshing and necessary to have a movie like “Run Terry Run” provide an firsthand look at what Canadian unity and heroism look like.
“Right now, Canada is going through a real tough period politically,” says a young student in a 1981 archival clip, “and maybe just for a little while, Terry Fox sort of gave us one goal to work towards and one thing to work for as a nation, rather than as 10 provinces.”
Timely words, now and then.
SYNOPSIS: The directorial debut of “X-Men” star James McAvoy, “California Schemin’” is based on the true story of a Scottish hip hop act who pretended to be American to get a record deal.CAST: Séamus McLean Ross, Samuel Bottomley, Lucy Halliday, James Corden, Rebekah Murrell. Directed by James McAvoy.
REVIEW: “California Schemin’” is a rowdy, stranger-than-fiction music bio that provides tons of fun but is also a cautionary tale of the toxic side of ambition.
The story of Billy “Silibil” Boyd (Samuel Bottomley) and Gavin “Brains” Bain (Séamus McLean Ross), two Scottish B-boys with a shared love of hip hop and skateboard culture, begins with a failed audition for a London talent show. They bare incensed when talent reps laugh them off the stage who call them “the rapping Proclaimers.”
Flat broke but determined to perform, they create an American persona, despite never having been to the States. Renaming themselves Silibil N’ Brains and dropping their Scottish accents in favor of some vaguely Valley Girl affectation, they claim to be from someplace called San Diangeles. “You actually sound American,” says Mary (Lucy Halliday). “You sound, like, entitled!”
Their new image catches the eye of a record label run by a guy (James McAvoy) who thinks they could be the next Beastie Boys or Eminem. “We’ll release a single and then we’ll come out fully Scottish and expose those wankers.”
Introduced to the world of studio sessions, appearances on MTV and groupies, success comes quickly, but their faux American dream quickly unravels. Fame and money put a wedge between the two friends as Gavin embraces he trappings of the music biz in a way that endangers Billy’s real love, his girlfriend Mary.
The well documented story—both in the documentary “The Great Hip Hop Hoax” and Gavin’s memoir—“California Schemin’” is a gritty music bio about identity and image that succeeds through its exuberance and engaging lead performances.
As the duo who Trojan Horsed themselves into the record biz, Ross and Bottomley are a boisterous pair. Underdogs who’ll do almost anything to get a leg up, they have great chemistry and which raises the stakes when things begin to sour between them.
“California Schemin’” falters here and there—a James Cordon cameo as a music executive doesn’t work well—and the ending doesn’t bring the intended feelgood vibe, but overall, with its infectious working-class spirit à la “Wild Rose,” it succeeds.
SYNOPSIS: In “The Social Reckoning,” a new legal thriller starring Mikey Madison and Jeremy Allen White now playing in theatres, a whistleblower leaks secret Facebook internal research. “The firehose of bad information you are injecting into the air supply is becoming jet powered.”
CAST: Mikey Madison, Jeremy Allen White, Wunmi Mosaku, Betty Gilpin, Billy Magnussen, Bill Burr, Jeremy Strong. Written, co-produced, and directed by Aaron Sorkin.
REVIEW: A companion piece to Sorkin’s 2010 film “The Social Network,” “The Social Reckoning” is based on the 2021 Facebook leak by whistleblower Frances Haugen (Mikey Madison) and Wall Street Journal reporter Jeff Horwitz (Jeremy Allen White).
When Haugen, a data engineer for Facebook, uncovers documents proving the social platform’s executives knew its products were amplifying misinformation, hate and causing body-image issues in teens.
Instead of looking for remedies, however, Facebook’s parent company choses to ignore the research in favor of engagement and growth. “Almost no one outside of Facebook,” Haugen says, “knows what goes on inside Facebook.”
Putting it all on the line, she contacts Wall Street Journal reporter Jeff Horwitz with data that implicates the company’s billionaire CEO Mark Zuckerberg (Jeremy Strong) who fights to suppress the story, now known as the Facebook Files. “I’m an investigative reporter,” says Horwitz, “and that guy and this company are playing an unprecedented role in our lives.”
Just in time for the US midterms comes a movie about how easily voters are manipulated. Unfortunately, the movie’s timely messaging of Facebook’s (now Meta) commodification of outrage, misinformation, cyberbullying and social isolation, feels like old news.
Had the film, written and directed by Aaron Sorkin with cool elegance, been released in 2021 when The Wall Street Journal unleashed the Facebook Files, it may have packed more of a punch. Today, the detrimental effects of social media are known and ingrained, so the blockbuster disclosures of 2021 aren’t dramatically compelling no matter how many times Sorkin cuts to intense footage of the storming of the United States Capitol.
As a result, watching “The Social Reckoning” in 2026 feels like the cinematic equivalent of doom scrolling, two hours of time spent learning nothing new.
Direction wise, the movie is straightforward and solid, reminiscent of prestige television from the 1990s, long before Facebook drained eyes away from the boob tube. It’s graceful, if a little dull, missing the paranoid vibe that made investigative movies like “All the President’s Men” and “The Parallax View” so compelling.
Of the headliners, Mikey Madison, Jeremy Allen White and Jeremy Strong, it’s Madison who impresses.
White leaves the chef jacket of “The Bear” behind to hand in a restrained performance as the slow-and-steady Horwitz.
Strong plays Meta Founder, Chairman and Chief Executive Officer Mark Zuckerberg as a po-faced robotic villain, the powerful embodiment of free-speech absolutism and profit. His line reading of, “This is a business, Charlie. You know why we don’t fact-check ads: because we don’t have to,” is chilling in its repercussions.
Madison impresses. The external performance of “Anora” has been turned inward as she makes the self-confessed nerdy whistleblower whose actions are driven by idealism, not malevolence, the film’s most persuasive character. “Connecting people, it’s a virtuous mission,” she says. “Something changed.”
Bill Burr also earns a nod as Charlie, an early Facebook investor who becomes one of the few who will speak truth to Zuckerberg’s power. “The firehose of bad information you are injecting into the air supply is becoming jet fuel,” he says.
These performances provide “The Social Reckoning’s” vigor even when the movie takes on the tone of a lecture on profit vs. social harm.
“One is always considered mad, if one discovers something that others cannot grasp.” — Dr. Eric Vornoff (Bela Lugosi)
Ed D. Wood Jr.’s legacy as the Holy Grail of cinematically challenged is unfair. Writing in the 1980 book The Golden Turkey Awards film critics Michael and Harry Medved singled out his movie Plan 9 from Outer Space in the Worst Movie Ever Made category while also hanging the title of Worst Director around his neck. Since then his name has been synonymous with failure and ridicule.
To be sure Mr. Wood was no Cecil B. DeMille, but he doesn’t deserve the critical sneers leveled at his work. Certainly movies like Glen or Glenda and Jail Bait were restricted by their über-low budgets and appear hopelessly amateurish, littered by ridiculous special effects and melodramatic acting, but they are entertaining and isn’t that what it’s all about? Many directors have spent a lot more money and not come close to delivering the same kind of giddy fun that The Sinister Urge pulsates with.
Take Michael Bay for instance. His movies make loads of money at the box office, but never fail to put me to sleep. Visually his films are spectacular feasts for the eyes. The former commercial director has a knack for making everything look shiny but having great taste doesn’t make a great film director any more than great taste makes a Snicker’s bar a gourmet meal.
To my mind the difference between Ed D. Wood Jr. and Michael Bay is simple. Wood’s films are inexpertly but lovingly made by someone who is desperate to share his vision. Bay’s big glitzy movies feel like cynical money grabs more concerned with the bottom line than personal expression. I’m quite sure that if Bay had to undergo the trials and tribulations Wood had to suffer to get his movies made he would run to the hills, or maybe just back to his big house in the Hollywood Hills.
Even though his enthusiasm usually trumped his capabilities Wood was a true artist, a true pioneer of the indie spirit; someone who fought tooth and nail to present his vision and no matter how cockeyed that vision may have been he believed in it and his ability to capture it on film. In time this Hollywood-outsider developed a unique Do-It-Yourself style akin to folk art; crudely crafted pieces that radiate with the passion of the artist.
One of his lesser known films, 1955’s Bride of the Monster, predates Plan 9 from Outer Space, but is cut from the same cloth.
Wood claimed the idea for the film came to him in a dream. “I keep a pencil and pad beside my bed at night because many a dream turns out to be a good plot,” he said. “That’s where Bride of the Monster came from, although it was first called Bride of the Atom.”
The story is credited to Wood and producer Alex Gordon, who disputes Wood’s dream-state inspiration for the film, claiming it was his script and he “got Eddie involved to polish” to make it more appealing to its star Bela Lugosi. Whatever the case, it contains all the earmarks of a Wood production, the strange stream-of-consciousness dialogue, bizarre editing, inappropriate use of stock footage and a story that almost, but doesn’t quite make sense.
Lugosi, in his last speaking role, plays Dr. Eric Vornoff, a mad scientist trying to create a race of atomic supermen. With his beefy assistant Lobo (Swedish wrestler Tor Johnson, who at 6’3’’ and 300 pounds was so large that when he was on the road he frequently stole toilet seats from hotels to replace the ones he broke at home) the doctor has been terrorizing the woods around Lake Marsh, kidnapping people to use as guinea pigs in his twisted experiments. He needs a steady supply of victims because the high dose of radiation needed to transform them into mutants usually kills them. (His success rate might have something to do with the equipment he’s using. His “high-tech” radiation zapper looks suspiciously like a photographic enlarger hanging from a mike stand and topped with a salad bowl.)
There’s a twist when an old colleague of Vornoff’s shows up to kidnap him and take him to the USSR. It seems Vornoff first hatched his plan to raise an army of nuclear giants while he was working for the Russian government. They thought the plan was outlandish and ran the mad scientist out of the country. Now they want him back and he doesn’t want to go. When the Russian pulls a gun Lobo saves his master’s life by subduing the agent and feeding him to a giant octopus.
The Russian isn’t the only unwelcome visitor. Janet (Loretta King) a cub reporter has been snooping around. Worse, she’s the girlfriend of Lt. Craig (Tony McCoy). Lobo finds her and brings her to Vornoff who prepares to experiment on her. He’s interrupted by Craig who has been searching for his lost girlfriend. Once again Lobo uses his muscle to diffuse the situation when he grabs Craig from behind and chains him to a wall.
Vornoff continues his evil experiment on Janet, but something has changed. Lobo has developed a crush on the girl and just as the scientist is about to pull the switch that may well kill Janet, Lobo pounces on him and straps him to the table and zaps him with the lethal juice. Instead of killing the doctor the rays work and he is turned into an atomic superman. The experiment is finally a success! The doctor overpowers Lobo, grabs Janet and makes a break for the woods. With the police in hot pursuit he must avoid capture, but he really should be more worried about that giant octopus.
Like all of Wood’s movies Bride of the Monster seems a little disjointed. Continuity is non-existent, the editing is peculiar and the ending is a bizarre non sequitur that involves a massive nuclear explosion. All of these shortcomings can be explained away, however, by Wood’s budgetary problems — one colleague said that Ed Wood made Roger Corman look like a big spender — and fractured production schedule.
The movie, which should have taken the director no more than 20 days to shoot, actually became a sprawling start-and-stop marathon which dragged on for just over a year. Wood would raise enough cash to shoot ten or fifteen minutes of film, run through that money and shut the production down. Every few weeks he’d move to a new studio leaving behind a trail of burned investors. Finally, a man named Donald McCoy stepped in with enough funds to complete the film. McCoy’s money, however, came with two caveats. First he wanted his son Tony, an actor Wood later called “the worst I ever had,” to play one of the leads and he insisted that the movie literally end with a bang.
The money man convinced Wood to include the from-out-of-the-blue nuclear blast ending as a message against the American-Russian Nuclear Arms Race. Wood, desperate to finish the movie, agreed on both counts.
Despite the film’s weaknesses the presence of Bela Lugosi elevates the proceedings. Lugosi, who, in 1931 had become a major movie star — it was rumored that after the release of Dracula he received more fan mail from females than Clark Gable — was on the skids. Drug addicted, near broke and frail he was working for $750 a day, a sum, Wood pointed out, that was more than he made for Dracula. He may have been in poor health, but the 73-year-old came alive when the camera rolled.
Wood utilizes some of the classic Lugosi moves from past movies — the tight hypnotic close-ups of his eyes and the sinister double-jointed finger movements are pure Dracula — and takes full advantage of Lugosi’s menacing aura. Parts of the performance are, of course, ridiculous. For instance, the platform shoe–wearing body double who battles Lobo clearly isn’t Lugosi.
The famous octopus battle scene, Lugosi’s final scene in the film, has become the stuff of indie film legend. According to legend Wood “borrowed” the cephalopod (originally seen in the John Wayne film Wake of the Red Witch) from the props storage vault at Republic Studios. Trouble is he forgot to liberate the motor which operated the giant beast’s tentacles. When it came time to shoot Lugosi was simply lowered down on top of the creature in freezing cold water and told to wave the tentacles in the air, simulating a life-or-death struggle. Lugosi heroically thrashes about with the gigantic beast, but the limitations of a 73-year-old man trying to manipulate the octopus puppet are painfully obvious. “When we got through with the scene, he drank a whole bottle of Jack Daniels just to get warm,” said Wood.
Another often cited gaffe, however, is unfounded. It’s been widely suggested that Lugosi, saying his lines through a haze of alcohol and drugs, says in one scene that Lobo is as gentle as “a kitchen.” Actually, the line is “gentle as a kitten” and that’s exactly what he says, though filtered through his heavy Romanian accent.
Lugosi’s legacy suffered over the years. His low rent work with Wood and others tarnished his reputation, but it was a film made after his death that may have left the most lasting and erroneous impression about the man.
Tim Burton’s 1994 film Ed Wood sees Martin Landau play Lugosi as a bitter, foul mouthed man with a grudge against Boris Karloff. In the film he calls Karloff a variety of names, including “limey cocksucker.” Never happened, according to Forrest J. Ackerman. The founder of the Famous Monsters of Filmland magazine and a friend of Lugosi told me in 1995 that “he was a real European gentleman. I never heard him say so much as a hell or a damn and they [Ed Wood filmmakers] had him uttering these scatological things about Boris Karloff that he never would have uttered in real life. I don’t think he even knew the term ‘limey’.”
Bride of the Monster isn’t as well known as Wood’s masterpiece Plan 9 from Outer Space, but is equally enjoyable. Michael Bay fans may not get it, but connoisseurs of outsider art certainly will.
