I join CTV Atlantic anchor Stephanie Tsicos to talk about the the bullet ballet of “Ballerina,” fishy thriller “Dangerous Animals” and the exorcism flick “The Ritual.”
Watch the whole thing HERE! (Starts at 28:18)
I join CP24 to talk about the big movies hitting theatres this week including the bullet ballet of “Ballerina,” fishy thriller “Dangerous Animals,” the horror comedy “I Don’t Understand You,” the animated “Predator: Killer of Killers” and the exorcism flick “The Ritual.”
Watch the whole thing HERE!
I sit in on the CFRA Ottawa morning show with host Bill Carroll to talk about the new movies coming to theatres including the bullet ballet of “Ballerina,” fishy thriller “Dangerous Animals,” the horror comedy “I Don’t Understand You,” the animated “Predator: Killer of Killers” and the exorcism flick “The Ritual.”
Listen to the whole thing HERE!
SYNOPSIS: Based on the true story of Emma Schmidt’s 1928 exorcism, “The Ritual,” a new horror film starring Al Pacino and Dan Stevens, and now playing in theatres, sees two priests battle their personal demons and the malevolent demon possessing a young woman. “We are the Lord’s army in this battle,” says Father Theophilus Riesinger (Al Pacino). “The devil will do whatever it takes to foil our plans. We must be resolute.”
CAST: Al Pacino, Dan Stevens, Ashley Greene, Abigail Cowen, Patrick Fabian, Patricia Heaton, Directed by David Midell.
REVIEW: The devil must have made them do it. There can be no other explanation for “The Ritual,” a movie so endlessly unentertaining only the Angel of the bottomless pit could be held responsible. I mean, how much evil fun can possessed teen Emma be if the worst thing she does is dish out some sick Latin burns and do some demonic hair pulling?
“The Ritual” flips the usual exorcism movie script. There are the customary tropes, the demonic barfing, the levitations and a seemingly innocent child saying terrible things in different languages, but screenwriters David Midell and Enrico Natale focus on the effect of demonic possession on those performing the rituals. The moments of doubt, the crises of faith, the physical and psychological effects suffered by the priests and nuns are front and center, although don’t add up to much. Mostly, the characters sit, shrouded in shadows, looking tortured before Midell, who also directs, quickly cuts away as though he’s embarrassed to show his characters in crisis.
“The Ritual” feels like a missed opportunity to do something different in the genre, as does the quarrel between the priests, Father Joseph Steiger (Dan Stevens) and Father Theophilus Riesinger (Al Pacino) as to whether Emma’s circumstance is psychological or demonic. What could have been an added layer of complexity, the battle between science and faith, between new-fangled ideas and ancient traditions, is instead an unexplored muddle, like so much else in this bland story of good vs. evil.
Considered one of the most thoroughly documented exorcisms in American history, the story of Schmidt not only inspired “The Ritual,” but also “The Exorcism of Anna Ecklund” and, to a lesser extent, the grandaddy of the genre, “The Exoricist.”
So, I suppose, given how documented the case is, it makes sense to shoot it in a cinéma verité (“cinema of truth”) style, but one must wonder what possessed cinematographer Adam Biddle to keep his handheld camera in almost constant motion. It is, perhaps, meant to bring some kinetic energy to a script laden with exposition, clichés, anachronistic dialogue (did anyone ask for a “safe space” in 1928?) and lame jump scares but mostly the shaky camerawork feels erratic, distracting from the performances and story.
There is a certain camp appeal in Al Pacino holler, “Attention Beelzebub!” as he summons Emma’s inner demon, but even that is not enough to earn “The Ritual” a recommend.
SYNOPSIS: In the unconventional “Cuckoo,” a bonkers new horror film now playing in theatres, “Euphoria’s” Hunter Schafer plays the rebellious 17-year-old Gretchen, a traumatized young woman living with her father Luis (Marton Csokas) and his new family in the German Alps. When her father’s business partner Herr König (“Downton Abbey’s” Dan Stevens) offers her a job on the front desk of his rural mountain resort, she jumps at the chance, despite some red flags. On site, she notices women mysteriously falling ill and when her step-sister becomes sick, Gretchen aims to discover the resort and König’s secrets.
CAST: Hunter Schafer, Jan Bluthardt, Marton Csokas, Jessica Henwick, Dan Stevens. Written and directed by Tilman Singer.
REVIEW: It’s not the end of the year yet, but I’m willing to bet the aptly named “Cuckoo” will be the strangest arthouse horror film of the year. A mix-and-match of body horror, otherworldly influences and slasher violence, it’s an unpredictable ride courtesy of director’s Tilman Singer’s unbridled imagination.
The off-kilter vibe is supported by the performances. Schafer is the guide, the most earthbound of all the characters, but even she seems engulfed by the film’s sensory overload.
Even more extreme is Stevens, who leaves “Downton Abbey” in the rear-view mirror with a performance so over-the-top it’s like a Bond villain on Adderall. His ever-changing pronunciation of Gretchen’s name is so bizarre, and so entertaining, it’s like it has been filtered through Google translate every time out.
After several mind-bending episodes, “Cuckoo” pays off in the third act as most of the story threads knit themselves up, and plot holes are filled. It will still likely polarize audiences looking for easy answers, but its sheer willingness to embrace its incomprehensibility is part of its eccentric charm.
Lots of kids like to play with their food, but the main character in “Abigail,” a new vampire film now playing in theatres, takes it to a new level.
The story begins with a plan to kidnap Abigail (Alisha Weir), the twelve-year-old ballerina daughter of a well-known underworld boss. Ringleader Lambert (Giancarlo Esposito) makes it sound simple. He directs his ragtag team, including ex-cop Frank (Dan Stevens), hacker Sammy (Kathryn Newton), medic Joey (Melissa Barrera), musclebound enforcer Peter (Kevin Durand), ex-Marine Rickles (William Catlett) and get-away driver Dean (Angus Cloud in his last completed role), to contain Abigail and babysit her for twenty-four hours until a sizable ransom is paid.
How hard can that be?
With little effort, they pick up the unassuming looking rich girl, and secret her away to a secluded mansion where she is blindfolded and tied to a bed for safe keeping.
Things take a twist, however, when it’s revealed that Abigail is a bloodsucking fiend, quick to kill and drop a witty one-liner.
“I’m sorry about what’s gonna happen to you,” she tells one of her soon-to-be victims.
Directors Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett, collectively known as Radio Silence, blow the plasma budget, filling the screen with gallons of bloody goo and arterial discharge. In its last half it is a splatter fest that provides the satisfying guts and gore horror fan expect.
But, in its own limited way, it’s also a family drama, a story of lost, lonely people, looking for approval from loved ones. That element gives the movie a nice grace note, but the focus here is popcorn thrills and chills.
As in “Ready or Not,” a Radio Silence movie from 2019, “Abigail” is largely set in a grand old gothic mansion. Trapped like rats in a labyrinth, the kidnappers flail helplessly, looking for, and finding, danger around every darkened corner.
Against that setting, Bettinelli-Olpin and Gillett stage several memorable scenes. In one, a newly-turned vampire acts as a puppet, performing an undead dance under Abigail’s telepathic control. It’s bizarre, kinda cool and diabolically funny.
The film’s beating heart, or rather, unbeating heart, is Weir, a kinetic presence who blends ballet with bloody vampiric attacks. Her shift from helpless child to two-hundred-year-old bloodsucker is the film’s coup de grâce.
“Abigail” goes on a little too long, puts a bit too much space between the gory set pieces and gives some characters the short shrift, but ultimately delivers a gory good time for genre fans.
Hot on the heels of 2023s “Godzilla Minus One,” the first ever Academy Award winner in the giant reptile’s decades long film career, comes “Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire.” The Oscar winning movie focussed on drama more than destruction, but the new film is pure spectacle. A ballet of kaiju chaos for fans.
Set three years after “Godzilla vs. Kong,” the last entry in the MonsterVerse franchise, a new threat has emerged. “For most of human civilization, we believed that life could only exist on the surface of our planet,” says Kong Research Director Dr. Ilene Andrews (Rebecca Hall). “What else where we wrong about? This world has more secrets than we could possibly imagine.”
Having defeated Mechagodzilla the last time around, the Godzilla, and his atomic breath, and King Kong, the ruler of a subterranean ecosystem deep within the Earth called Hollow Earth, face a new threat.
When Andrews discovers large red hand marks on Skull Island, imprints that did not come from Kong, it becomes clear there is another giant ape with his eye set on taking over Skull Island, and beyond.
Even at 337 feet (102.7 m), and equipped with a giant axe and a mechanized power glove, Kong isn’t capable to do battle on his own.
“They don’t have to like one another,” says the “hippy dippy Ace Ventura” veterinarian Dr. Trapper (Dan Stevens) of Kong and Godzilla. “They just have to work together.”
Val Lewton and generations of horror/suspense directors who followed, kept their monsters off screen as long as possible. It was less-is-more filmmaking, that understood your brain would fill in the blanks; that what you didn’t see would be scarier than anything they could show you. It allowed the imagination to run wild, but “Godzilla x Kong” leaves nothing to the imagination. It is a bigger-is-better movie, the cinematic equivalent of a Monster Truck Rally.
It’s all about Kong, Godzilla and new characters like the 318 foot (96.8 m) tall simian Titan Skar King and an adorable-but-feisty mini-Kong named Suko, loud and proud, in action, leaving a trail of carnage behind them.
The human characters exist only to explain things, provide occasional comic relief, utter lines like, “What the bloody hell is that?” and look in awe as the Titans do battle. On the plus side, Brian Tyree Henry and Dan Stevens do look like they’re having fun.
The CGI is dodgy from time to time, the clunky story is essentially an excuse to pit Kong and Godzilla against other Titans and it doesn’t have the grace or emotion of “Godzilla Minus One,” but “Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire” turns it up to 11. It’s a crowd pleaser, although milage may vary depending on your level of fandom of Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em action, that comes in and goes out with a roar.
Taking a lead from “How to Train Your Dragon,“ and other movies were fearsome creatures reveal their kinder, gentler selves, “The Sea Beast,” a new animated movie now streaming on Netflix, gives the old “never judge a book by its cover” platitude a nautical twist.
Monster hunter Jacob Holland (Karl Urban) come by his job honestly. As a child his parents were killed in a sea monster attack, one that left him adrift, alone in the ocean. After his rescue by the fearsome Captain Crow (Jared Harris), he devoted his life to the eradication of the sea beasts. “I swore I would do everything I could to keep people safe,” he says.
The worst of the worst, the King Kong of sea beasts is the Red Bluster, a giant lobster-red creature, rumored to be a menace to seafaring society. When Holland and his crew set off in their ship, the Inevitable, to hunt down and kill the menace, they discover a stowaway. Young orphan named Maisie (Zaris-Angel Hator) lost her parents on a sea beast expedition, and she wants in on the action.
There is a lot at stake on this mission. The king and queen have threatened the monster hunters with dire punishment unless the beast is tamed. Maisie, Holland and the crew set off to vanquish the creature, but soon learn that there is more to the story than they could ever have imagined.
“The Sea Beast” has spectacular action sequences with well-crafted computer animation, a compelling story about finding family, and the usual kid movie messages about loyalty and the importance of role models, but what sets it apart is a more subversive idea.
At its heart this is a cautionary tale, a warning to never take things at face value, or blindly put your trust into accepted versions of history. History can be subjective, the movie suggests, depending the source. Are the sea beasts dangerous troublemakers, as king and queen claim? Or are they misunderstood creatures used by the rulers to instill fear and exert control over their subjects? Co-writers Chris Williams (who also directs) and Nell Benjamin have woven big ideas throughout the fabric of the story, encouraging kids to figure out things for themselves and not accept the conventional wisdom.
But don’t get me wrong, this isn’t some anti-imperialist, rebellious screed. It’s an action adventure with a conscience and some very cool “monsters” that kids will fall for at first sight. It slows down in the second half, but the combination of smarts and seafaring fun is a winner.
Will Ferrell is a wonderfully weird and committed actor. Like a dog with a bone when he latches onto a part he doesn’t let go, come hell or high water. When it works, it really works, and the result is an indelible comedic creation like the deluded Ron Burgundy that not only makes us laugh but also reveals the character’s humanity. When it doesn’t work, as in “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga,” now streaming on Netflix, it is all commitment and little humanity.
Ferrell plays Lars, a middle-aged Icelander whose love for the Eurovision Song Contest began in 1974 when he dancing in front of the TV, much to his father’s (Pierce Brosnan) chagrin, to ABBA’s winning performance of “Waterloo.” No one believes in his musical dreams except for his childhood friend Sigrit (Rachel McAdams), who loves him even though her affections don’t seem to be reciprocated. She believes in elves and drops little pearls of wisdom like, “Anger cannot churn butter.”
Together they are Fire Saga, a synth-pop duo who play to crowds at the local pub who only want to hear songs like “Ja Ja Ding Dong,” and not the “real music” Lars writes. Through a series of unlikely events they stumble into a spot on the Eurovision show. Lars’ father doesn’t want them to go. “All of Iceland will laugh at you,” he says. Undeterred, Lars soldiers on. “I have to become an international star to prove to my very handsome father and all of Iceland that I have not wasted my life.”
Lars and Sigrit’s experiences in their tiny fishing village of Húsav´ík do not prepared them for the cutthroat world of Eurovision. Will predatory singers, like Russian superstar Alexander Lemtov (Dan Stevens with a George Michael frosted-tip bouffant), and stage mishaps dampen Lars’ dreams of Eurovision fame?
“Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga” should be a lot funnier than it is. It’s a little too loving of Eurovision’s kitschy spectacle to be a satire; a little too sincere to be truly silly, despite Ferrell’s ridiculous hair and even more outlandish sweaters. The comedy is further blunted by the film’s main conceit, that Lars and Sigrit are talentless wannabees. “We all know they are awful,” says the local Húsav´ík cop, “but they are our awful.” Thing is, in context, they fit like a puzzle piece next to the other over-the-top acts the movie showcases.
Ferrell brings the usual commitment to his trademarked arrogant man-child character but never pushes the characterization much beyond the way the townsfolk see him. “Lars is weird,” they all say, and Ferrell obliges, playing the character as the result of a damaged psyche—he feels unwanted by his father—and just a little too much confidence. It’s familiar ground for him and us.
McAdams feels like an odd choice to play opposite Ferrell’s exaggerated character. She’s good, but her more natural performance feels like it belongs in another movie.
The real Eurovision Song Contest won’t be happening this year, another victim of COVID-19, so perhaps “The Story of Fire Saga” will fill that gap for fans. If you tune in expect some scattered good moments. Ferrell delivers a few laughs and Stevens has fun but Lars and Sigrit’s protracted love story pushes the movie to an unwieldy 123 minutes with not quite enough laughs to justify the running time.
