Drew Hancock directs Sophie Thatcher, Jack Quaid and Lukas Gage in this thriller where a young woman begins to discover her life is not all that it seems on a weekend getaway with her boyfriend’s friends.
I had the early big twist ruined for me the morning before going to see this. I probably would have twigged it. There aren’t many surprises after that but it is handsome.
Mel Gibson directs Mark Wahlberg, Michelle Dockery and Topher Grace in this thriller where a U.S. Marshall tries to transport a federal prisoner over the Alaskan wilderness only to discover her pilot is an assassin.
Not entirely sure what attracted Mel to this. Cheap rather than claustrophobic. The script is a stinker. Never really confident with what to do after the first act set-up that doesn’t instantly crash the little plane into a mountain. So Marky Mark spends most of the movie knocked out. He goes out of his comfort zone but a new Hannibal Lecter ain’t born. Full of weird little choices, none of them good. A hard movie to take any positives from even though it ticks its own basic boxes on the check list.
John Dahl directs Steve Zahn, Paul Walker and Leelee Sobieski in this highway thriller where a prank on a road trip turns nasty once a killer in a truck begins chasing two brothers.
A nice little American Pie era spin on Duel. Looks glossier than anything Dahl had made before but also has a nasty streak that owes as much to Wes Craven’s Scream as any Neo-Noir. The ending has quite obviously been reshot but still works as a multiplex grabber. Zahn shines in the lead, Ted Levine’s supplies the malevolent voice of the unseen tormentor.
The Coen Brothers direct Michael Stuhlbarg, Richard Kind and Fred Melamed in this bleak comedy where a Jewish college professor’s humdrum life unravels in the 1960s.
The Dybbuk. The goy’s teeth. The “Mentaculus”. Joel and Ethan’s biggest enigma. Is it a fable? Is it fate? Some faithful yet biblical recreation of their childhoods? The closest we have gotten to the existential dread of Barton Fink but here the mysteries are both more suburban yet difficult to fully fathom. Stuhlbarg is fantastic, permanently harried, this is the role that made him “a name”. Maybe they lean into the dream sequence rug pull once too often, maybe for non-Coen initiates this will feel like a big nothing? I don’t know. I’m a fan and I find it spellbinding.
Guillem Morales directs Belén Rueda, Lluís Homar and Pablo Derqui in this Spanish psychological thriller involving twin sisters, eye transplants and suspicious suicides.
The sorta mystery where the drip feed of clues is so obvious you are constantly aware of the manipulation. Don’t you hate only getting half the story? That story mutates about three times meaning it is unpredictable but you never feel each new ripe set-up is ever fully exploited. Belén Rueda is a very attractive lead and there’s a couple of unnerving moments but this just never fulfils its potential. Hitchcock or De Palma would have cooked this concept up tasty hot.
John M. Stahl directs Gene Tierney, Cornel Wilde and Jeanne Crain in this film noir melodrama about a socialite with an obsessive love for her novelist husband.
Bright noir that looks like Sirk and proves gently psychologically unsettling. Tierney looks stunning no matter what states of unease (harried / paranoid / murderous / suicidal) she is in. I don’t want to spoil the strange little “happy” ending but I’ll posit two questions. Who doesn’t want to spend their marriage alone and uninterrupted with Gene Tierney? And should we really trust a narrator who is defence attorney for the survivors, retelling a story with many suspicious plot holes in it?
David Twohy directs Vin Diesel, Thandiwe Newton and Karl Urban in this sci-fi epic where Pitch Black’s anti hero takes on an intergalactic imperialist death cult.
I remembered feeling this was a disappointment after the lean and tight Pitch Black. Bookended by a sub Dune plot of regal squabbling and unconvincing CGI, Chronicles often reeks of vanity. Yet on a curious revisit the good stuff sang louder. The middle act on a sun scorched prison planet hits the high notes of the first film. Thandiwe Newton’s smokin’ hot Lady Macbeth clone is way better than some of the other thespians cashing in a paycheck. The ambition of the visuals is laudable even if the tech doesn’t quite meet the vision. There are good action beats and even a couple of creepy moments. The closing shot is cute beyond belief. I had a lark with lowered expectations.
Colm Bairéad directs Carrie Crowley, Catherine Clinch and Andrew Bennett in this Irish drama where a young girl from a loveless family spends a summer with relatives.
Heart wrenching child’s point of view stuff. So many deeply true moments. Very good but very sad. Wonderfully bold yet simple framing from cinematographer Kate McCullough. Based on a Claire Keegan novella.
Kathryn Bigelow directs Jeremy Renner, Anthony Mackie and Brian Geraghty in this Iraq war movie following a military bomb disposal unit with an unstable new sergeant.
Easily the best movie set in the second invasion of Iraq. The heat, dust and volatility of the occupation is immersive. Nobody does death wish intensity quite like Bigelow. She is one of my favourite directors based on the purity of her action filmography. More pessimistic than Cameron, grittier than a McTiernan, more poker faced than a Verhoeven. The first hour of this is take no prisoners set piece after set piece. The marathon sniper stand-off in the desert is as dangerous and as gripping as a sequence of peril can get. Do we get any further into the three protagonists mindset than war is bad / sad / pointless but addictive? No. But ultimately there isn’t much more to say about violence than it mutilates humans inside and out. For my money, one of the most entertaining 21st century Best Picture winners.
Brady Corbet directs Adrien Brody, Guy Pearce and Felicity Jones in this period saga following an émigré architect’s struggles to find work in post-war America.
Epic but intimate. A character study yet obtuse. Bristling with creative fervour and literary intent. You could never accuse a 215 minutes movie of biting off more than it can chew but Corbet’s admirable big swing certainly has a lot of aims and themes, many of which only truly emerge in the final half an hour. The first half “The Enigma of Arrival” is full of seductive, noble, optimistic struggle. That American Dream writ large, only pragmatically. Almost cynically, but not quite. “Part 2: The Hard Core of Beauty” is the grinding disillusionment, the crushing inevitability. It is harder to absorb on first viewing as, as some of Corbet’s intentions take true shape, they can feel… a bit on the nose after the more lyrical journey we have been on. Maybe we didn’t need some questions answered quite so bluntly, quite so obviously. Overall though this is really something special. Perfectly paced, beautifully filmed by Lol Crawley and with one of my favourite scores in a good long time… thank you Daniel Blumberg. Pearce and Jones do tremendous work with their complex characters and I would happily have spent another three hours plus in their abrasive company. Corbet builds on his enticing start with Childhood Of A Leader and Vox Lux to deliver his first truly great one. The Brutalist exists as such an exile among contemporary releases. Neither an algorithm dictated cash-in or the last indulgence from an old master. Set in the past, non genre, deeply intelligent, emotionally spellbinding. It gives me hope that someone might still tackle the unfilmed (and possibly “unfilmable”) favourites Mr Vertigo by Paul Auster or A Confederacy Of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole. If Corbet wanted to give either a punt I’d be very happy.
Bobby Carroll's Movie Diary 