I join the CTV NewsChannel to talk about the Bob Dylan biopic “A Complete Unknown,” the epic “The Brutalist,” the sports drama “The Fire Inside,” the unrelenting evil of “Nosferatu,” the office romance of “Babygirl” and the wild biopic “Better Man.”
Watch the whole thing HERE!
I join CTV NewsChannel anchor Scott Hirsch to talk about the Bob Dylan biopic “A Complete Unknown” and the vampire drama “Nosferatu.”
Watch the whole thing HERE!
SYNOPSIS: A gothic tale of an ancient vampire’s infatuation with an innocent young woman, Robert Egger’s “Nosferatu” is a reimaging of F. W. Murnau’s 1922 expressionist horror masterpiece “Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror.”
CAST: Bill Skarsgård, Nicholas Hoult, Lily-Rose Depp, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Emma Corrin, Ralph Ineson, Simon McBurney, and Willem Dafoe. Directed by Robert Eggers.
REVIEW: In a showstopper of an opening, the story of “Nosferatu” begins as Ellen (Lily-Rose Depp) telepathically awakens an ancient evil in the form of Count Orlock, a.k.a. Nosferatu from the dead.
Years later this story of evil and sacrifice continues in 1838 Germany with Ellen, now newly wed to real estate agent Thomas Hutter (Nicholas Hoult).
Recently, Ellen’s nights have been flooded with terrifying dreams she doesn’t understand. Thomas dismisses them as “enchanted memories,” but she thinks her visions portend something terrible for the couple.
When Thomas’s boss Herr Knock (Simon McBurney) asks him to travel to the Carpathian Mountains to meet with an elderly new client named Count Orlock (Bill Skarsgård)—“He has one foot in the grave,” jokes Herr Knock—Ellen doesn’t want him to go, but the job offers the kind of money they need to start a family and soon Thomas is off.
Weeks pass. Ellen’s dreams become so intense her doctor calls in Prof. Albin Eberhart Von Franz (Willem Dafoe), a metaphysician and occult scientist who declares, “I have seen things in this world that would make Isaac Newton crawl back into the womb!”
Meanwhile, at Orlock’s creepy castle, the arduous journey and sleep deprivation caused by strange dreams has left Thomas weakened and afraid. Are his dreams morbid fairy tales, as Orlock suggests, or has the Count, a.k.a. Nosferatu, placed a spell on him, as it appears he has on Ellen?
In Germany, as Orlock’s ship heads for their shores, Ellen and others are held in his telepathic sway. “There is,” Von Franz says, “a dread storm rising.”
Director Robert Eggers breathes new life into “Nosferatu’s” withered lungs, staying true to his gorgeously gothic aesthetic while at the same time paying tribute to F. W. Murnau’s classic 1922 film. Immaculately crafted, unsettling images of scurrying rats, crumbling castles and ominous shadows projected by flickering candlelight create a nightmarish canvas onto which this story of dark obsession and sacrifice is projected.
It will be categorized as a horror film, and there are elements of gore, death and the unnerving auditory experience of hearing Count Orlock drain his victims, but it is an old-school horror movie that aims to unnerve its audience with just a few jump scares and no vats of fake blood. Eggers conveys terror with the film’s atmosphere of dread and depiction of madness, decay and unrelenting, elemental evil.
As the film’s tragic heroine Ellen, Depp carries much of the story’s emotional darkness. Ellen is tormented by visions she doesn’t understand, but Depp doesn’t play her as a victim. It’s more like she’s trapped in a toxic relationship and, as such, carries a complex panoply of feelings. Fear and lust top the list, but ultimately it is the steeliness Depp gives her that makes Ellen a compelling but helplessness and hunted character.
The beating—or, in this case, non-beating—heart of the story is Bill Skarsgård as the vampiric Count Orlock. The Dracula stereotype of the vampire with a cape is out of the window. Instead, Orlock is a long-dead Transylvanian noble man, a figure from some folk tale mythology, complete with a bushy moustache and opulent clothing befitting his aristocratic status. But whatever he was when he was alive, he has transformed into a sinister being, a partially decomposed primordial vision of terror. Unseen for most of the film, save for some stunning shadow play early on, Orlock is an avatar of evil and entitlement.
From Orlock’s slow, deliberate speech to his ferocity, Skarsgård, unrecognizable under an inch of make-up, plays him as though he’s just stepped out of a nightmare.
As Thomas, Hoult is a sturdy leading man, and Dafoe, continuing his exploration of off kilter old timey doctors, is obviously having fun, and brings a hint of lightness to this very dark tale.
“Nosferatu” is a story of shadows and light, both thematically and in its visual style.
In one creepy flourish Eggers utilizes shadows to represent the spread of Orlock’s influence. The image of his hand slowly casting shade over Thomas and Ellen’s hometown of Wisborg is eye popping, both visually and metaphorically. As a stylist Eggers creates an atmosphere of evil that emerges from the darkness, painstakingly enveloping all in its path. There is a terrible beauty in these images, one that plumbs the depths of Orlock’s depravity in ways that is both spellbinding and repulsive.
By the time the end credits roll “Nosferatu” is both a compelling homage to, and a reimaging of, Murnau’s original film. The atmosphere of dread remains, given new life with impressive visuals, but it is in Egger’s revision of the core story of obsession and sacrifice that the film becomes truly horrific.
SYNOPSIS: “The Crow,” a re-imagining of the classic gothic superhero series of the same name, sees troubled souls Eric Draven (Bill Skarsgård,) and Shelly Webster (FKA Twigs) become soulmates after escaping from a rehab center. On the run from bad man Vincent Roeg’s (Danny Huston) violent thugs, the pair form an unbreakable bond, even in death. Given the chance to save his true love by sacrificing himself, Draven navigates the worlds of the living and the dead to seek vengeance against her killers. “Kill the ones who killed you, and you will get her back.”
CAST: Bill Skarsgård, FKA Twigs, Danny Huston, Josette Simon, Laura Birn, Sami Bouajila, Isabella Wei, Jordan Bolger. Directed by Rupert Sanders.
REVIEW: “The Crow” is back, but, unfortunately, never really takes flight. Director Rupert Sanders and cinematographer Steve Annis create a beautiful, neo-noir gothic canvas as a backdrop to the story of the power of love as a tool for revenge, but no amount of atmosphere can make up for spotty storytelling and murky mythology.
The film’s first forty minutes, the story of star-crossed lovers Eric and Shelly, drags as the two meet, flirt and get to know one another. Trouble is, sparks don’t exactly fly. The basis of the story is immortal love, one that cannot be broken by anything, even death, and yet their courtship feels impetuous, not particularly romantic. That lack of chemistry blunts the effectiveness of the movie’s emotional foundation and delays the start of The Crow ‘s story until midway through the film.
As for the action, it does deliver some OTT John Wick style violence, but I wouldn’t call this an action movie. The action is used sparingly, relegated to two big set pieces. Of those, it’s the opera house sequence that delivers the cathartic, nasty kills fans might want. It’s gross and gory as Draven gives new meaning to the question, “Why don’t you smile?” (You’ll know what I mean when you see the movie.) It goes for it, delivering the straightforward revenge vibe you expect, but it also makes you wonder why the rest of the movie doesn’t have the same energy or comic book sensibility.
Skarsgård is suitably angsty, and can handle himself in the action scenes, but despite his best efforts, the specter of Brandon Lee’s indelible performance in the original cult classic looms large over this version.
“The Crow” suffers from a lackluster villain (the usually reliable Danny Huston) and slow pacing, but its worst crime is that for a movie about soulmates, with a baddie who dooms souls to hell, “The Crow” feels soulless.
Blood drenched and brutal, stylish and silly, “Boy Kills World,” a new action comedy starring Bill Skarsgård, and now playing on theatres, is a pure and simple story of revenge.
A prologue paints a picture of a post-apocalyptic future. Fascist leader Hilda Van Der Koy (Famke Janssen) rules with an iron fist, using cruelty and unhinged televised murders called “The Culling,” featuring breakfast cereal mascots, to “make an example of those who pose a threat to the Van Der Koys.”
Into this, comes Skarsgård as Boy, a youngster left traumatized by Van Der Koy’s murder of his entire family. Deaf and mute, the orphaned Boy is rescued by enigmatic martial arts master Shaman (Yayan Ruhian). Years of training transform Boy from a small scared child, to a muscle-bound killer filled with rage, thoughts of vengeance and guided by an inner voice, courtesy of his favorite video game.
“I am an instrument, shaped for a single purpose,” his inner voice declares. “to kill Hilda Van Der Koy!”
With the help of resistance fighters Basho (Andrew Koji) and Benny (Isaiah Mustafa), Boy unleashes a deranged campaign of chaos that will lead him to the top echelons of power.
Recently “Monkey Man” mined some of the same territory as “Boy Kills World.” Both are films about avenging the death of a mother, both are high octane fight fests, but “Boy Kills World” replaces the solemn tone of “Monkey Man” with irreverence. The new film is essentially a series of cartoony, splatter-zone fight sequences hung around a simple story that sees Boy seek revenge using fists, knives, guns and even a cheese grater to an armpit.
“Boy Kills World” packs a wallop in those scenes, but does not deliver an emotional smackdown. Director and screenwriter Moritz Mohr floats a family story in the puddles of blood left behind by Boy’s rampage, but by the time we get there it is too little too late. We’ve already been desensitized by the ballet of bullets and buckets of blood. The tonal shift doesn’t work and goes on too long, but for genre fans, Skarsgård’s finely sculpted abs and twitchy action should satisfy.
“Why don’t you just die?” screams one of the hundreds of people looking to kill the titular character in “John Wick: Chapter 4,” the wild new Keanu Reeves assassin movie now playing in theatres.
Why doesn’t he just die? Because he’s John Wick, a mix of Anton Chigurgh, Wile E. Coyote and the Energizer Bunny, that’s why.
If you’re a fan of the movies, you already know Wick can take a lickin’ and keep on tickin’. You don’t need the backstory to enjoy the new film, but it might help. Here’s a quick John Wick Wiki to get you up to speed.
The John Wick Universe is a place where an association of twelve crime lords, called the High Table, govern the underworld’s most powerful criminal organizations. They control the Continental, a hotel chain with exclusive branches sprinkled across the globe that serve as homebases for assassins. It is a place run by a strict set of rules, like never do “business” on the premises, by managers like Wick’s friend Winston Scott (Ian McShane) who runs the New York outlet.
Legendary hitman Wick ran afoul of the High Table, and was declared excommunicado. He is persona non grata and they want him dead. Trouble is, he’s hard to kill.
Also, he really loves dogs as much he loves killing people. There. You’re caught up.
At the beginning of the new film, High Table elder and all-round psychopath, Marquis de Gramont (Bill Skarsgård), displeased with Winston’s continuing connection to Wick, decommissions the Continental New York. “He is the face of your failure,” he sneers.
With one of his last allies rendered powerless, Wick must get to the Marquis before the Marquis can get to him.
Cue an amount of mayhem rarely seen this side of Russian car wreck videos on YouTube.
At 2 hours and 49 minutes “John Wick: Chapter 4” is by far the longest film in the franchise. Heck, it’s even longer than “Pulp Fiction,” “A Clockwork Orange” and “Raging Bull,” but director Chad Stahelski maintains interest, staging at least one major action sequence, more like a well-choreographed ballet for the blood thirsty, each hour. People get gone in spectacular ways, Wick defies the laws of physics and medical science to get his revenge and some of the world’s most beautiful locations become the backdrop to Wick style mayhem.
A scene staged in the roundabout circling Arc de Triomphe de l’Étoile is an eyepopper, one of the best big screen action scenes in recent years not directed by George Miller. A shoot out on the 200 steps of Paris’s Sacré-Cœur has an anarchic cartoon vibe that would make the Tasmanian Devil envious. Tom Cruise may be famous for his signature run, but after this, I think, Reeves will be remembered for falling down stairs. It’s a wild, extended ticking-clock sequence that uses slapstick humor to alleviate the tension as Wick violently makes his way to a date with destiny.
Adding to the action sweepstakes are Hong Kong martial arts superstar Donnie Yen as the blind assassin Caine, and legendary Japanese actor and martial artist Hiroyuki Sanada, last seen on screen with Reeves in 2013’s “47 Ronin,” who plays the manager of the Osaka Continental Hotel and an old friend of Wick. Yen is effortlessly cool, with an elegant and humorous fighting style that threatens to steal the show from Wick’s blunt force. Sanada has fighting skills and brings gravitas to the character, a man who values loyalty above all. The personality each bring to their scenes adds much to the effectiveness of the action.
Director Stahelski stages several all-timer action scenes with grace and inventiveness, always remembering to keep the frenetic battles clean and easy to follow.
Of course, the Wick movies are all about the central character, a man whose path to inner peace is littered with the bodies of the people he’s killed. Like a character straight out of a Sergio Leone film, he is a man of few words, and few motivations. In part, that is what makes the character and the movies so enjoyable. He may be the most lethal man on the planet, but, in each movie, his violent tendencies are in service of one objective. There is no muddled middle ground for Wick, no waffling, and that clarity of purpose keeps the movies from becoming cluttered, even at an epic 169-minute run time.
If “John Wick: Chapter 4” is the last film starring Keanu Reeves in the series—it is set-up for spin-offs within the Wickverse—then it goes out with a bang.
I introed the Canadian premier of “John Wick: Chapter 4” with stars Keanu Reeves and Shamier Anderson and director Chad Stahelski. Instead of the planned Q&A, they did a tribute to Lance Reddick, a co-star in all four Wick movies, who passed away earlier in the day.
Watch it HERE!
The grisly events in “Barbarian,” a new house rental horror film now playing in theatres, are a better advertisement for staying in a hotel than anything the Canadian Hotel & Lodging Association could have dreamed up.
The story begins with Tess (Georgina Campbell) pulling up in front of an Airbnb in the rundown neighborhood of Brightmoor in Detroit. Turns out, the only house on the block without broken windows or a kicked-in front door, is doubled booked, and Keith (Bill Skarsgård), is already settled in. She booked on Airbnb, he booked on another site, wires were crossed, but instead of sending her out in the rain to find another place to stay, he invites her in. You take the bed, he says, I’ll sleep on the coach. She reluctantly agrees, won over by his charm and seemingly good-guy vibes.
After lights out, strange things happen. At first, it’s creepy but explainable, like creaky old doors that open and close by themselves, but, the next day, when she goes to the basement to retrieve some supplies, the house reveals a dark secret.
Cut to Los Angeles, present day, and the worst moment of self-involved television star AJ Gilbride’s (Justin Long) life. Accused of sexual impropriety by a co-star, he’s fired from his show and is the subject of an exposé in the Hollywood Reporter. His career in tatters and his bank account running dry, he decides to sell off assets, including an Airbnb property he owns in Brightmoor, Detroit. “I’m not here on vacation,” he tells his lawyer as he lands in Michigan. “I’m here for some liquidity.”
As the story of Tess and AJ collide, “Barbarian” takes one last left turn, this time to Detroit, circa the Reagan years, with the origin story of the innocent looking house’s evil.
“Barbarian” is an audacious thriller with a heaping handful of solid scares. Director Zach Cregger zigs and zags, trusting the audience to hang on for the wild ride. It’s worth the trip. The tense atmosphere of Tess and Keith’s story gives way to AJ’s MeToo cautionary tale and the sinister origin story before throwing it all into the hopper to create a genre-busting final third act. Nothing is off the table as the movie tackles the worst of human nature, narcissism, murder and even incest. It’s a heady mix that should have you moving toward the edge of your seat.
“Barbarian” is one of the rare, recent horror movies that truly keeps the viewer off balance throughout. It’s never clear where the story is going, and that off-the-hook storytelling keeps the creepy story compelling. It’s a roller coaster in which only one thing is clear: Never rent an Airbnb built over a catacomb.
The first instalment of “It,” Stephen King’s scary clown epic, was about overcoming fears. Specifically, the shape-shifting Pennywise the Dancing Clown a.k.a. It (Bill Skarsgård), the manifestation of all the character’s fears. The new film, inventively titled “It: Chapter Two,” is about resilience, about sticking your neck out for your friends.
The new one is set in 2016, twenty-seven years after the preteen Loser’s Club battled Pennywise in his sewers lair and kept the town of Derry, Maine safe from the child gobbling monster. Now, the childhood friends have gone their separate ways. Loser’s leader Bill (James McAvoy) is now a successful mystery novelist. Sexual abuse survivor Beverly (Jessica Chastain) went on to become a fashion designer, while Ben (Jay Ryan), the overweight, bullied kid is now an architect living in Nebraska and loud-mouth Richie (Bill Hader) is a DJ in Los Angeles. Other members fled town as well. Hypochondriac Eddie (James Ransone) runs a NYC limousine company and Stanley (Andy Bean) is now an Atlanta-based accountant.
Only Mike (Isaiah Mustafa) stayed in Derry. Traumatized by the events of his youth he battles a substance abuse problem but stays on top of Pennyworth’s existence by sleeping next to a police scanner. “Something happens when you leave this town,” says Mike. “The farther away, the hazier it all gets. But me, I never left. I remember all of it.” When trouble in the form of a clown comes back to town Mike summons the others Losers to come back home to conquer their fears, bond together and do battle with their old foe. “Did you miss me?” taunts Pennywise. “No one wants to play with me anymore.”
At almost three hours “It: Chapter Two” is an overindulgent mish mash, part horror, a splash of comedy and heaping helping of pop psychology. Oh, and a clown. To say the movie takes it’s time is an understatement along the lines of suggesting Pennnywise floss more often. It almost feels like you’re binging several episodes of a serialized version of the story without the benefit of being able to switch channels when the going gets repetitive.
And it gets repetitive. We are endlessly reminded of the character’s childhood traumas, told of Pennywise’s evil and if someone said to me, “We’ve got to stick together,” as many times Bill says it here, I would make a run for it and never look back. The movie says it best when Ritchie exasperatedly says, “We’re caught up, OK!” over an hour in, and yet the exposition and repetition continues.
There are several striking nightmarish images and Hader provides some much-needed comic relief but it feels as though director Andy Muschietti and screenwriter Gary Dauberman regarded King’s novel as some sort of sacred text and where unable to stray from the written word. One of the enjoyable things about King’s novels are there world building, his attention to detail and skill for weaving mythology into real(ish) world situations. The best adaptations of his work carefully parse these elements to boil down the essence of the story. “It: Chapter Two” does not make the effort. Instead it laboriously recreates the novel, frills and all. It may have worked in print but here it feels the running gag about Bill’s inability to properly end his stories has come to life, manifesting itself in the CGI heavy climax and the extended coda.
In this sequel Pennywise’s red balloon has finally popped.
