Richard makes a Gin Old Fashioned, the perfect cocktail to enjoy while watching the new M. Night Shyamalan thriller “Old.” Have a drink and a think about “Old” with us!
Watch the whole thing HERE!
They grow up so quickly. That’s what everyone always says when you have kids. That old axiom comes to horrifying life in “Old,” the new film from director thrill meister M. Night Shyamalan, now playing in theatres.
Gael García Bernal and Vicky Krieps are Guy and Prisca Capa, parents to 11-year-old daughter Maddox (Alexa Swinton) and six-year-old son Trent (Nolan River). They are headed for divorce but before the ink dries on the legal papers, they want one last three-day family vacation at a fancy resort. “Can you believe I found this place on-line?” says Prisca, taking in the beautiful hotel.
Despite tension between mom and dad, the kids have fun, and when the resort offers an invitation to visit an exclusive beach, they eagerly accept. “It’s a once in a lifetime experience,” purrs the manager.
Coming along on the day trip is an assortment of other guests, including high strung cardiothoracic surgeon, Charles, (Rufus Sewell) and his family, rapper Mid-Sized Sedan (Aaron Pierre) and long-married couple Jarin (Ken Leung) and Patricia (Nikki Amuka-Bird).
A shadow is cast on the day of sun, surf and sand when a dead woman washes ashore on the beach. Trying to call for help, the panicked vacationers quickly realize they are alone, isolated, with no cell service or anyway to get back to civilization.
When the mysterious body decomposes right in front of their eyes, wounds heal instantly and their kids begin to age two years every hour, they realize, in a masterstroke of understatement that “there’s something wrong with this beach.” “It’s hard to explain,” adds Guy.
Is it mass hysteria or is something more sinister happening?
Based on the graphic novel “Sandcastle,” by Pierre Oscar Lévy and Frederik Peeters, “Old” has an intriguing premise, one that could sit on the shelf comfortably next to the “Twilight Zone” box set. But the ain’t-it-funny-how-time-slips-away premise is almost undone by painfully bad dialogue and the strangely muted reactions of most of the characters. When your six-year-old grows up and has a baby in a matter of hours I would expect some deep introspection alongside shrieks and confused looks. Instead, this group is unusually accepting of the beyond strange situation.
Having said that, Shyamalan is a stylist who creates arthouse horror in “Old.” He effectively builds tension—most of the movie is as taut as a tightrope—and finds interesting ways of showing, not telling, the character’s physical changes like blindness and hearing loss. In addition, the really terrible stuff is mostly off screen, an old school Val Lewton technique, that allows the audience to imagining things much worse than he could show us.
Beyond the horror are poignant messages about embracing the time we have and that a life that whips by without memories or experiences, is time wasted. As time passes, the movie suggests, leaving things unsaid and undone are the greatest crimes in the timelines of our lives.
“Old” is melodramatic and has a protracted ending that wraps things up without providing much satisfaction but Shyamalan provides enough thrills to make it time well spent.
In “Castle in the Ground,” a new opioid drama now on VOD, the more Ana (Imogen Poots) says, “Everything is going to be OK,” the more it becomes apparent that it’s not.
Set in Sudbury, Ontario, circa 2012, the film stars Alex Wolff as Henry, a young man nursing his mother (Neve Campbell) through the final stages of Non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. Across the hall is neighbor Ana, a young woman struggling to pull herself out of the pit of addiction. When Henry’s mother dies Ana and the grieving son are drawn together, but this isn’t a mother and son sickness of the week story or a Bukowskian tale of rough romance. It’s a co-dependency thriller set against a backdrop of Ana’s plan to rip off her dealer Polo Boy (Keir Gilchrist). Henry is drawn into the scheme and a life of opioid addiction.
“Castle in the Ground” is a carefully crafted character study of a naïve—or willfully ignorant— man and a Machiavellian addict. Wolff, who impressed in Ari Aster’s “Heredity,” holds the screen during director Joey Klein’s long, unhurried scenes. He brings the hurt of a heartbroken guy, now looking for a connection, even if it isn’t in his best interest. But it is Poots who impresses. Her take on Ana is vividly painted as she plays a cat-and-mouse game with Henry in order to get what she wants. As the situations spirals her chirpy, “everything is going to be OK” assurances, become more ominous.
This is a depressing film, unburdened by light at the end of the tunnel. Dark, visually and thematically, it’s a movie about internal conflict, pain, depression and indulgence that spares none of its characters. Everyone, no matter how sympathetic, are complicit in the lead up to the film’s fiery climax.
“Castle in the Ground” is an up-close-and-personal look at a very large issue. It offers no solutions or searing insight as to how the opioid problem spun so far out of control. Instead, it is simply a well-made and well-acted look at life in a time of personal crisis.
There is nothing particularly “next level” about the second instalment of the all-star, rebooted “Jumanji” franchise. It provides pretty much exactly the same level of entertainment delivered by 2017’s “Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle,” a family-friendly action flick that offered up some good-natured laughs.
The last time around nerdy gamer Spencer Gilpin (Alex Wolff), mean girl Bethany Walker (Madison Iseman), jock Anthony “Fridge” Johnson (Ser’Darius Blain) and Martha Kaply (Morgan Turner) were assigned to detention. Stuck in a storage room, they found a dusty old Jumanji gaming console. They turn it and the game sputters to life. “A game for those who seek to find,” it says, “a way to leave their lives behind.” Each clicked on an avatar and were suddenly swept away into the world of the game, plopped down in the Jumanji jungle and in the middle of an escapade. They also looked different. Their teenage selves are gone, replaced by heroic videogame characters. Spencer is now Dr. Smolder Bravestone (Dwayne Johnson), a buff hero, fearless with no vulnerabilities. Martha is warrior Ruby Roundhouse (Karen Gillan) while Fridge is zoologist Moose Finbar (Kevin Hart). The biggest change was reserved for Bethany who became cryptographer Professor Sheldon Oberon (Jack Black).
The old gang is back, and when Spencer disappears inside the game they follow along, with some new faces in the form of Spencer’s cranky granddad Eddie (Danny DeVito), the old man’s former business partner Milo (Danny Glover) and a new avatar played by Awkafina.
Once back in the videogame world of Jumanji they must find Spencer and protect a scared gem, keeping it out of the hands of a merciless warlord played by “Game of Thrones’” Rory McCann. Cue a cacophony of close calls, mismatched body swapping, CGI and silly jokes that feel left over from the 2017 movie.
Like most real-life video games “Jumanji: The Next Level” is most fun when they’re actually playing the game and not standing around talking about playing the game.
After a deadly first half-hour that reunites the original cast the film briefly picks up speed when the characters land in Jumanji only to discover they aren’t who they used to be. Moose now looks like Kevin Hart but has Danny Glover’s grandfatherly personality. Eddie wound up as the muscle-bound Dr. Smolder Bravestone and Professor Sheldon Oberon has adopted Bethany’s former avatar, Professor Shelly Oberon. The switcheroos provide some laughs, particularly Hart’s take on Glover’s deliberate (i.e. glacial) dialogue delivery. He nails it, slowing down his usual mile-a-minute style to milk laughs from lines like, “Jurgen the Brutal. Is that Barbara’s boy?”
Johnson has a harder time replicating DeVito’s New Jersey twang, especially in the film’s rare dramatic moments.
The rest of the film is action, herds of ostriches and mandrills attack and there are improbable fight scenes but all are so CGI heavy that they don’t connect. Instead they offer up roughly the same level of thrills as a theme park ride, which, no doubt this will one day be if it isn’t already.
“Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle” appealed to audiences with a mix of charismatic actors having a good time in a silly story and inventive action. For the most part “The Next Level” goes the way of so many other sequels, replacing the original charm with a story that is larger and louder but not as engaging. “I can’t believe you came back here on purpose,” says Martha. You may wonder that yourself as the end credits roll.
“My Friend Dahmer” is a first hand account of the world’s most famous serial killer’s troubled high school years. The up-close-and-personal look is based on a graphic novel and memoir by artist John “Derf” Backderf, a childhood friend of the future cannibal.
“Jeff’s a little off, right?” “Yeah,” says Derf (Alex Wolff), “that’s what we like about him.” The guys are talking about their classmate’s habit of “spazzing out to the max.” Outwardly he’s like a lot of teenagers. Shy and bullied, he acts out in public to make up for the attention he doesn’t get at home.
Privately it’s a different story. An unhealthy interest in roadkill and binge drinking point to the inner demons that would eventually consume him and push him to kill and consume seventeen people between 1978 and 1991.
“My Friend Dahmer” effectively captures Dahmer’s extreme teen angst. Like John Hughes with deep psychological undercurrents, it is a picture of regular American life with a twist. At its heart is former Disney Channel star Lynch. His broodingly empathetic performance haunts the film, building tension as Dahmer becomes disconnected from his family—mentally ill mother (Anne Heche) and ineffective father (Dallas Roberts)—and friends.
It’s a remarkable performance that hits all the notes. When asked what line of work he wants to get into he replies, straight-faced, “biology.” It’s a funny line delivered with just enough chill to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Later, when he tries to convince a classmate to go to the prom with him he says, “You want to seem normal, right?” Those words hang heavy in the air as Dahmer slowly loses his grip.
“My Friend Dahmer” builds to a chilling climax that will make you lean forward in your seat but never really pulls back the layers of the killer’s psyche. Lynch’s tortured soul routine is well realized but the film never gets too far past blaming the parents for the deeds of the child.
