I sit in on the CFRA Ottawa morning show with host Bill Carroll to talk about the new movies coming to theatres including the alien thrills of “Disclosure Day,” the spoof “Stop! That! Train!” and the supernatural “The Voice Of Our Mother.”
Listen to the whole thing HERE!
Fast reviews for busy people! Watch as I review three movies in less time than it takes to brush your teeth. Have a look as I race against the clock to tell you about the alien thrills of “Disclosure Day,” the spoof “Stop! That! Train!” and the supernatural “The Voice Of Our Mother.”
Watch the whole thing HERE!
SYNOPSIS: In “Stop! That! Train!,” a new disaster comedy starring RuPaul and now playing in theatres, two train attendants get the jobs of a lifetime working for the luxurious Glamazonian Express just as a massive storm endangers the train, their jobs and may even their lives. “It’s a Stormaganza!”
CAST: Ginger Minj, Jujubee, Brooke Lynn Hytes, Latrice Royale, Monét X Change, Symone, RuPaul Charles, Sarah Michelle Gellar, Nicole Richie, Raven-Symoné, Michelle Visage, Chris Parnell, Jesse Tyler Ferguson, Charo, Natasha Leggero, Joel McHale, Missi Pyle, Jerry O’Connell, Lisa Rinna. Directed by Adam Shankman.
REVIEW: “Stop! That! Train!” is the shameless spiritual cousin to “Airplane” and other spoof movies that never met a joke it couldn’t or wouldn’t crack.
The cavalcade of jokes begins as BFFs Tess (Ginger Minj) and DeeDee (Jujubee) report for duty as attendants on the high-speed Glamazonian Express, a train so most glamorous it makes the Orient Express seem dowdy. “There ain’t no rules when you’re riding on a train,” sing the first-class train attendants in the Safety Instructions musical number. “We’re like if Amtrak was gay.”
Their first day on the job is thrown into chaos when a massive storm nicknamed a Stormaganza hits, threatening to crash the train into Los Angeles. The only route to survival is for Tess and DeeDee to team up with the condescending first-class attendants, who, with the help of President Judy Gagwell (RuPaul) just might be able to avert disaster.
One of the co-producers of “Stop! That! Train!” is the aptly named Unapologetic Projects. I say aptly named because this movie is unapologetic in its campy approach. No joke is too corny, no joke obvious, no joke is left unturned. Don’t like a joke? Hang on, there will be another one in the next five seconds.
Legendary crime writer Elmore Leronard once told me you should never use more than one “!” in every 100,000 words. The title alone of “Stop! That! Train!” uses three and director Adam Shankman pitches the performances as if there were an “!” at the end of every joke. It’s a lot, and a bit of a blunt instrument, but it’s all in good fun.
Like an episode of “Drag Race,” “Stop! That! Train!” is colorful, chaotic and escapist. It’s a whole lotta empty calories, but fans of “Drag Race” should lap up this train wreck’s the quotable moments and wild energy.
Fast reviews for busy people! Watch as I review three movies in less time than it takes to scream seven times. Have a look as I race against the clock to tell you about the return of Sidney Prescott in “Scream 7,” the northern noir of “In Cold Light” and the music doc “Paul McCartney: Man on the Run.”
Watch the whole thing HERE!
SYNOPSIS: “Scream 7,” now playing in theatres, once again says “Hello, Sidney” as Neve Campbell returns to the thirty-year-old horror franchise as iconic “final girl” Sidney Prescott.
CAST: Neve Campbell, Jasmin Savoy Brown, Mason Gooding, David Arquette, Matthew Lillard, Courteney Cox, Isabel May, Anna Camp, Michelle Randolph, Jimmy Tatro, Mckenna Grace, Asa Germann, Celeste O’Connor, Sam Rechner, Mark Consuelos, Tim Simons, Joel McHale. Directed by Kevin Williamson.
REVIEW: The labyrinthine world of the “Scream” franchise continues in a bloody movie that delivers the gore but gets lost in a mishmash of nostalgia, legacy characters and tired tropes.
A story about past trauma revisiting the present, “Scream 7” begins with Sidney Prescott (Neve Campbell) starting a new life in a new town. Settling in Pine Grove, Indiana, far from the suburban Northern California town of Woodsboro and the reach of serial killer Ghostface.
Or so she thought until her phone rang.
“I’m going to make everyone you love suffer,” says a familiar voice on the other end of the line. “Including your pretty daughter.”
Could it be her nemesis Stu Macher (Matthew Lillard) or an elaborate deepfake?
Either way, determined to protect daughter Tatum (Isabel May) and husband Mark (Joel McHale), Sidney swings into action in a final showdown with her greatest adversary.
Directed by Kevin Williamson (who wrote the original “Scream”) “Scream 7” is a collision of old and new elements that end up feeling almost as lifeless as one of Ghostface’s victims.
What was once a clever meta commentary on slasher movies that deconstructed the tropes of 80s and 90s horror, and later, remakes, toxic fandom and franchise fatigue, now feels rudderless as it takes on deep fakes and AI. The previous “Scream” films would have taken time to formulate a comment on the dangers of technology or at least take a position on it. Instead, here it’s simply a plot device, nothing more or less.
That lack of curiosity extends throughout. Even though “Scream 7” contains the most gratuitous kill of the entire series—and, to be fair, one of the funniest as one unfortunate victim is turned into a human beer tap—it doesn’t invest much into making the new characters compelling or, most importantly, making the Ghostface unmasking shocking or at the very least interesting.
The result is a movie with enough bloody stuff to entertain slasher fans, but it feels like the kind of film the franchise has spent thirty years analyzing.
“Becky,” a new thriller featuring former sitcom star Kevin James as the King of Criminals, and now on VOD, is a mix of home invasion movies like “The Strangers” and plucky-kid-fights-back flicks like “Home Alone.”
Lulu Wilson is the title character, a fourteen-year-old who never got over the death of her mother. When her father Jeff (Joel McHale) announces his engagement to girlfriend Kayla (Amanda Brugel), Becky goes ballistic and takes off into the woods behind their weekend cottage, hiding out in a treehouse fort. She narrowly misses the arrival of Dominick (James), a neo-Nazi with a swastika tattooed on the back of his bald head, and his goons. They’re there looking for a key that was supposed to be in a container in the basement.
Trouble is, it isn’t there.
Thinking Jeff knows where it is Dominick resorts to the usual home invasion techniques of information gathering—intimidation, snarly rhetoric and when all else fails, torture—not realizing that Becky is lurking in the woods. When he discovers where she is, and that she has the key, he sends the goons to get her. What he doesn’t realize is that the tween is, “as strong willed and vindictive as they come.”
Cue the homemade deathtraps and bloodshed. “There once was a little girl who had a little curl in the middle of her forehead,” she taunts Dom. “When she was good she was very, very good but when she was bad she was horrid.”
“Becky,” I suppose, was to be to Kevin James what “Foxcatcher” was to Steve Carell, or Mo’Nique in “Precious,” a way to break out of comedy and into drama. While it is shocking to see the “King of Queens” without a quip on his lips or Adam Sandler at his side, that’s the only shocking part of this performance. Perhaps it’s his hilariously stilted dialogue or maybe it’s just hard to take a guy who made a career playing a heroic mall cop seriously.
Either way, he’s supposed to be a bad, bad man but compared to Becky he’s a peacenik. Set loose in the woods, the teenager calls on every ounce of her bottled-up rage to unleash holy, bloody hell on the men who did her family wrong. She lets her freak flag fly in ways that would make Anton Chigurh look positively tame by comparison.
“Becky” doesn’t have a whole lot of surprises. Instead it relies on bloody situations to drive the horror of its message home.
You can’t say you weren’t warned. “Assassination Nation,” the new film from writer-director Sam Levinson, comes complete with a long list of trigger warnings. Fragile Male Egos. Torture. Swearing. The list goes on. All, and more, are contained within this lurid look at life in a small town vexed by a computer hacker.
When Salem, Massachusetts high school seniors Lily (Odessa Young), Sarah (Suki Waterhouse), Bex (Hari Nef) and Em (Abra) aren’t in class they spend their time partying, chasing boys, sexting and sending thousands of Facebook, Instagram and twitter posts. When a computer hacker reveals the sexual peccadilloes of their town’s mayor and school principal it wakes up the sleepy suburb’s townsfolk. When the hacking continues, uncovering Lily’s cyber affair with an older man, and the deepest darkest secrets of many others, the town’s men band together to find the hacker. “The media is complicit,” they say. “People are laughing at us. We can no longer be helpless. If the government can’t save our law and order, we will do it ourselves!”
Most every hot button woes of modern life are either literally or metaphorically covered in “Assassination Nation.” Toxic masculinity, privacy concerns, desensitization to violence, mob rule, homophobia and racism for a start. It’s a Pandora’s Box of social ills, told through the prism of a satire that feels both exploitative and timely.
As the story goes on, shifting from edgy teen sex comedy to a manifesto of female empowerment it echoes back to the events of 300 years previous when rumours led to the demise of twenty of the town’s women. Blamed for their sexuality and treated as objects, the four women at the center of the story react against the righteousness and hypocrisy they say has become their town’s sickness.
“Assassination Nation” is in-your-face stuff, a movie that is part slasher flick, part call for revolution. “You may kill us,” says Lily after all hell has broken loose, “but you can’t kill us all.” It’s not always pleasant but it is never less than interesting.
Make no mistake, “The Happytime Murders” is not a Muppet movie. Sure, the puppets look like they just wandered in from “Sesame Street,” but the latest Melissa McCarthy film takes place a few blocks away in a much worse part of town.
Set in a Los Angeles where humans and puppets co-exist—imagine “Who Framed Roger Rabbit’s” Toontown with hand puppets—“The Happytime Murders” is an R-rated comedy that sees the felt cast members of ’80s children’s TV show “The Happytime Gang” systematically murdered by a mysterious killer.
Next on the hit list is Jenny (Elizabeth Banks), a burlesque dancer who was the “The Happytime Gang’s” sole human cast member. She’s also the ex-girlfriend of Phil Philips (Bill Barretta), the first puppet to join the LAPD. After a scandal pushed him off the force he became a private investigator but when his older brother and “The Happytime Gang” actor, Larry (Victor Yerrid), is offed, and with Jenny in danger, he teams up with his former partner Detective Connie Edwards (Melissa McCarthy) to find the puppet serial killer. “If it gets crazy,” he says, “I’m going to get crazy.”
Repeat after me, “The Happytime Murders” is not a movie for kids. With the first F- bomb less than thirty seconds in, the tone is set early. By the time we get to the puppet porn shoot and McCarthy snorting ecstasy with down-on their-luck puppets it’s abundantly clear this isn’t your father’s Muppet movie. Trouble is, I’m not sure who it is for. The idea of a raunchy puppet flick isn’t new, “Meet the Feebles,” “Team America” and others have put the ‘R’ in marionette with great success but they did it with wit as well as in-your-face vulgarity. In “The Happytime Murders,” easily the least funny comedy to hit screens this year, the laugh lines mostly get laughs because we’re not used to seeing puppets in… er… ahhh… compromising positions. Watching McCarthy and Maya Rudolph, who plays Phil’s love struck secretary Bubbles, flounder in a sea of felt and unfunny “gags,” is almost as sad as seeing the vaunted Henson name in the opening credits.
You know when someone constantly swears just for the sake of swearing? That’s shock value. “The Happytime Murders” is all shock, very little value.
Imagine “Tango & Cash” with a demonic twist.
In “Deliver Us From Evil” Eric Bana is Sarchie, an NYPD cop partnered with Butler (Joel McHale), his wisecracking sidekick.
Like Messrs. Tango and Cash, they are fearless but somewhat mismatched. Sarchie is a cop with “radar,” a nose for trouble, while Butler is a wisenheimer who, when a disheveled suspect grimaces at him, foaming at the mouth, says, “Do you think she’s single?”
A series of seemingly unrelated 911 calls—a domestic dispute, an incident at a zoo and a possible home invasion—change the story from cop drama to supernatural police procedural. Strange things happen. Holy candles won’t burn in the house of one of the 911 callers. One of the perps speaks Latin and scratches until her fingers bleed.
Skeptical at first Sarchie refuses to blame “invisible fairies” for the strange behavior, but working with a Jesuit Priest, Father Mendoza (Édgar Ramírez), Sarchie and Butler become convinced there is more at play here than just human nature.
The investigation leads them to a trio of men, (Chris Coy, Dorian Missick and Sean Harris) soldiers who returned from Iraq with PTDS (Post Traumatic Demonic Possession.) Piecing together the links becomes a dangerous job for Butler, Sarchie and even the officer’s family (Oliver Munn and daughter played by Lulu Wilson).
“Delivers Us From Evil” relies on jump scares—those “boo” moments that get your heart racing—and while a few of the jumps work, most simply deliver a jolt with nothing behind it, but there is at least one shock cat lovers are going to h-a-t-e.
There is plenty of atmosphere—apparently it rains all the time in the Bronx—and a few creepy moments—was that a snake or an old pipe?—but the truly eerie stuff is underplayed when a movie like this should be really dialing up the action.
It’s all a bit dull. There are no truly memorable moments. We’ve seen the exorcism stuff before—without the head spinning and pea soup—in everything from “The Exorcist” to “The Exorcism of Emily Rose” but the thing that really sinks the movie’s momentum aren’t the stock characters or lack of new thrills but the exposition scenes that explain the obvious. Director Scott Derrickson, who also made the considerably creepier “Sinister,” doesn’t trust the audience to follow the simple story so he has the characters walk us through it almost one line at a time.
“Deliver Us From Evil” doesn’t feel like a summer movie. Usually we look to July and August to deliver us from lame movies but this one has the feel of those horror flicks starring a familiar-but-less-than-household-name that fills up theatres in January and February.
