Review Category: Movie

Genre fans will already be familiar with Amy Seimetz through her performances in films like Upstream Color, Pet Sematary, and Alien: Covenant. Here, as the writer and director of She Dies Tomorrow, Seimetz demonstrates what a singular talent she is behind the camera too.

A young woman, Amy, becomes convinced that she will die tomorrow. She tells her friend Jane, who dismisses the notion, suggesting she’s had a relapse back into alcoholism. But later on, Jane too becomes convinced that she will also die tomorrow. As both characters react in different ways to this certainly, they pass on the contagion to those around them who also react in different ways.

Inspired by the different ways that people reacted to Amy Seimetz’s discussions around her own anxieties, She Dies Tomorrow is a contagion film that sees an idea become virulent. We don’t know the why, the how or the what of the spread of the infection – Seimetz is more interested in examining its impact to go into logistics – leaving us with more questions than answers, something which great science fiction often aims for.

And whilst She Dies Tomorrow isn’t a great film, it’s a very good one. It spends a lot of time with the infected before we get any kind of insight into their pasts and, in a pivotal flashback, Amy is seen telling her ex about regrets she’s had. It’s a moment that lets us, the audience, in on what Seimetz is really doing. If you knew you were dying tomorrow, wouldn’t you want to, well, live?

And so for these people whose lives are in stasis, who regret not having lived, who go through the motions of dysfunctional relationships, addictions, meaningless dinner party conversations, infection becomes a kind of cure, releasing them from their unsatisfying lives.

It’s a clever idea, one which isn’t resolved but which is explored enough to keep us thinking long after the film is over. That’s thanks in part to a terrific cast, in particular a superb Jane Adams, and direction that is certain of itself, unafraid to throw in horror, humour, pathos and mystery. It’s a little Cronenberg at times, in his earlier years anyway, and is certainly taking a look at how society deals with mental illness, giving us an insight into the ambition Seimetz carries.

Remarkably made before the pandemic, the experiences of the last 18 months give the film an added pertinence.

She Dies Tomorrow is available on Digital in the UK.

Old represents a case of one step forward and two steps back for M. Night Shyamalan, now firmly established as one of Hollywood’s most frustratingly inconsistent directors. Split and Glass went some way to successfully rehabilitating his fragile reputation after a handful of howlers – Lady in the Water and The Last Airbender, in particular – but Old wastes an intriguing concept thanks to Shyamalan’s haphazard grasp of character development and motivation and a preponderance of clunky, ham-fisted dialogue allied with some frankly bizarre visuals more likely to elicit sniggers of derision from the audience rather than gasps of horror and revulsion.

Old is based on the acclaimed Swiss graphic novel Sandcastle by Pierre Oscar Levy and Frederik Peeters and we can only assume that the damage was done by Shyamalan in its transition to the big screen. It’s an eerie and pleasingly solid idea. A  group of tourists staying at a too-good-to-be-true tropical resort visit a beautiful, secluded beach recommended by the resort’s oleaginous manager. One member of each group, intriguingly, is suffering from a troublesome medical condition.  Already on the beach is a famous rapper known as Mid-Size Sedan (I beg your pardon??), whose female partner’s body suddenly washes up on the beach. The thrown-together group become understandably distressed but they find that they can’t leave the beach, surrounded as it is by mountains and accessible only by a path in the cliff. Anyone attempting to cross through the path blacks out and finds themself back on the beach, a fate that also befalls one unfortunate who decides to climb up the cliff. Their situation quickly deteriorates when three of the children suddenly start to age and it appears that some strange and unnatural force is accelerating the effects of the passage of time. Can the group find a way off the beach or will they succumb to their own weaknesses and paranoia – and why are they being quietly observed from the top of the cliff by the resort employee who drove them by coach to the beach in the first place (played by Shyamalan himself)?

Old probably has some cogent points to make about the nature of life and how it can seem to pass by in the blink of an eye and how, at heart, we are all afraid of the ageing process and its inevitable consequences but Shyamalan fudges it all by lumbering his game cast – Rufus Sewell, Gael Garcia Bernal, Vicky Krieps, Ken Leung, and Nikki Amuka-Bird amongst them – with graceless dialogue that tumbles like timber from their lips and plot inconsistencies that will leave you scratching your head until it bleeds. No one here really talks or behaves like real, believable, or relatable people so there’s an immediate distance between them and any sympathy we might struggle to engender for their admittedly troublesome and unnerving plight. These are people being made to engage in awkward, rambling conversations by a writer who feels the need to keep has cast talking. An attempt to depict Rufus Sewell’s Charles’ schizophrenia by making him obsess over a half-remembered film starring Jack Nicholson and Marlon Brando is too obscure to properly land and the response by Prisca (Kriepps) on discovering that her six-year-old kids have suddenly become teenagers – “it must be some sort of virus” – is so ludicrous that it’s laughable. For a film centred on the ageing of the human body, Old is curiously coy in the body horror department until it decides it’s time to takes the gloves off, and one scene in particular with a character ageing to death and suffering a lifetime of broken limbs in the space of a few minutes just ends up looking comical. Then there are a handful of moments that are either extraordinarily stupid or horribly misjudged; one ad hoc medical procedure carried out on the beach is screamingly implausible and the union between two six-year-olds who are suddenly teenagers (but still mentally six-year-olds, remember) that results in an unnaturally-rapid pregnancy can’t help but feel slightly ill-advised.

Old isn’t a tragically bad Shyamalan film but it sails worryingly close to the likes of The Happening in terms of its eyebrow-raisingly idiotic dialogue and plot progression, delivering a resolution (not exactly the anticipated ’twist’ ending) that raises more questions than it offers answers. Life really is too short for films as clumsy and hokey as Old.

Old is in cinemas now. 

The purge is back, both on the streets of America and the big screen. As the franchise continues it sadly becomes even more a case of art imitating life.

With the New Founding Fathers back in control of the country, the annual purge recommences. Twelve hours in which everything is legal, including murder. In fact, mostly murder. The action focuses on a ranch town not too far from the Mexican border. Working as a cowboy, illegal immigrant Juan (Tenoch Huerta) rubs the boss’ son, Dylan (Josh Lucas), up the wrong way by besting him with a rowdy horse. When the purge comes around, the workers are given a bonus to help keep them safe, something a few of the farmhands take as a slight to their ‘poor’ status. The 12-hour killing spree passes without too much incident for our lead characters. That is until the following day when they discover there’s a groundswell movement that has decided the purge should last forever and are bent on using their self-imposed ‘rights’ to do away with anyone who happens to be of a different colour. Dylan – a character you’d have put money on being on the side of the renegade purge groups – has more than a few reasons to accept and follow Juan and his wife Adela (Ana de la Reguera) and change his attitudes.

While the film series has always been taking a broad swipe at American gun culture and values, The Forever Purge is even more potent following the events of January 6th. It’s now very easy to see how fast the country can devolve into all-out anarchy and the failure of Marshall Law to control the bloodthirsty masses. Add the racial incentive and the premise errs further towards troubling ground, it runs the risk of appealing to the audience it should be satirising.

This entry into the series continues to invoke fear in a ‘what if…?’ kind of way as it’s very easy to see the world (America especially but not exclusively) heading down the terrible path the films and TV series have gone. It’s still a white-knuckle thrill ride, but the sentiment is a little too close to home to be thought-free entertainment. Which is good, as violence should provoke thought. The reversal of fortune angle is predictable but handled well and, for once, we’re hoping the bad guys don’t win.

Yes, we’ve seen it all before, but sadly, it was on the news.

The Forever Purge is in cinemas now.

Ever get the feeling of déjà vu? Well you can be forgiven with this new sequel/remake/rehash of the 1996 Warner Bros hit that featured basketball legend Michael Jordan teaming up with the company’s cartoon characters to battle aliens on the court. A New Legacy is more of the same, only with current b-ball star LaBron James in the spotlight.

The story’s given a modern twist, too, as James and the ‘toons face a side put together by Don Cheadle’s Al G. Rhythm (geddit?) a rouge artificial intelligence that lives in the ‘serververse’, the vast computer system put together at Warners so they can come up with the best ideas for movies. Well, there’s nothing like being self-aware, as this manipulative piece of software is set to take over from the suits when it comes to greenlighting projects. Rhythm is put out when James refuses to sign up to his idea of being the studio’s new go-to face of upcoming films, so he kidnaps his son, Dom (Cedric Joe), who his having his own conflict with his father. Dom’s a wiz with coding and has created his own basketball-based video game but his father wants him to concentrate on his hoop game. So Rhythm uses the boy’s game against James by challenging him to shoot some b-ball. Meet the new boss… same as the old boss.

While Space Jam: A New Legacy is a film that no one wanted – the original has pretty much been forgotten – Warner Bros has at least embraced the ridiculousness of the idea. The Meta references go overboard as almost every part of the studio’s history is thrust into the mix, including having the characters interact with clips from some of the classics of yesteryear (we’d like to think this will move the kiddies to discover the likes of Casablanca, but can’t see it happening). Likewise, the crowds during the tournament are a who’s-who of WB – the droogs of A Clockwork Orange rubbing shoulders with Pennywise from IT and (we assume) a nun from The Devils. These moments are clearly there for the parents that Warners hope will be dragged to see the film.

The thing is, though, are the Looney Tunes characters relevant to youngsters today? Sure, they get a CGI makeover when it comes to game time, but as the classic cartoons are absent from modern TV schedules, do they know Bugs and co.? If they don’t, there’s a hell of a lot of gags that’ll be going over their heads.

Ultimately, the story – a father being too pushy and not seeing his son’s talents for what they are – works well and keeps the inspiration going for the less sporty types. James himself just about manages to scrape through the acting side of things without too many cringe moments, but he’s naturally upstaged by Don Cheadle, who appears to be having a lot of fun as the disgruntled AI. There’s also a pretty good Michael Jordan gag, even if you can see it coming. It’s great to see Bugs and the gang back in action, although a rapping Porky Pig is a step too far. In fact, the whole soundtrack makes us yearn to be watching the ’96 film at times, and underlines how bad music is these days. Oh, and get off our lawn.

If you take this iteration of Space Jam as a satire of the entertainment industry, you’ll enjoy it more than you’d imagine and realise it’s not a complete misfire. While it isn’t a slam dunk, it grabs a few rebounds, forces some turnovers, and strings a few outside shots.

Space Jam: A New Legacy is in cinemas now.

Prequel, sequel, and standalone story all at the same time. There’s a lot riding on the third film in Leigh Janiak’s Fear Street trilogy. Can it stay true to itself while also wrapping up the events of 1994 and providing further context to 1978? And is it even a Fear Street movie without the constant needle drops and millennial nostalgia-bating?

Picking up where 1978’s bookends left off, Deena (Kiana Madeira) is thrown back in time – Quantum Leap style – to experience life through the eyes of Sarah Fier. Here she’ll learn the cautionary tale of a witch, her lover, and the community that persecutes them both. Naturally, there’s more to Sarah Fier’s story than meets the eye, and what Deena learns may prove key to defeating the witch’s curse, back in 1994.

Like the previous film in the series, 1666 largely stands on its own…. until it doesn’t. It’s the story of a woman, accused of witchcraft, and the small-minded men who would do her harm. The slasher movie vibes are done away with in favour of a darker, more folksy kind of horror. This is still R.L Stine’s Fear Street, though – and feels more like Goosebumps: A Night in Terror Tower than The Witch. Despite the 17^th Century setting, everyone still walks and talks like modern teenagers, save for the atrocious Oirish accents the cast have been stuck with.

Still, period horror is a relative rarity, and Janiak uses it to tell a compelling story. It’s the first film in the series with a proper theme – not a particularly original one, granted – and a story which is more than just homages to other, better stuff. This mystery clumsily collides with Deena’s story in 1994, both halves of the film battling for supremacy. On its own, 1666 is probably the strongest film in the trilogy, but when combined with its bookends, it suddenly becomes the most uneven. It’s loaded with painful exposition dumps to justify the jumbled narratives, and a rushed race to the finish line. What a return to 1994 does net us is extra Gillian Jacobs (always a good thing) and a reasonably exciting denouement.

Prequel, sequel, and standalone story all at the same time. Fear Street: 1666 is a movie pulling every witch way, occasionally to its detriment. Regardless, its core story is the strongest of all three, the bookends closing out the trilogy in a fashion that should satisfy most viewers. With 1666, Leigh Janiak closes out our trip to R.L Stine’s Fear Street. It’s been a bumpy, uneven ride, but never anything less than a fun one.