THE DEAD DON’T DIE

dead die

THE DEAD DON’T DIE / CERT: 15 / DIRECTOR & SCREENPLAY: JIM JARMUSCH / STARRING: BILL MURRAY, ADAM DRIVER, CHLOË SEVIGNY, TILDA SWINTON, STEVE BUSCEMI, IGGY POP / RELEASE DATE: JULY 12TH

Jim Jarmusch isn’t exactly the type of filmmaker you would imagine making a zombie movie, but even those who aren’t fans of his work should be curious to see what his stab at one might look like. Sadly, The Dead Don’t Die is exactly as you would imagine but lands like a paranormal clown fart at a posh dinner party. Despite vibrant concepts and colourful supporting characters, TDDD is only ascetically inventive. An A-list cast and forgotten character actors are dragged back on screen in undead garb and dispassionately directed through a slack narrative with hack panache in a meta zombie satire that’s gratingly self-satisfying.

Bill Murray plays Cliff Robertson: Chief of Police in the small mid-American town Centerville, alongside Deputy Ronnie Peterson (Driver): a pessimistic cop with a shotgun and catchphrase (“this isn’t gonna end well”). The two investigate shots fired by local vagrant Hermit Bob (Tom Waits) before odd anomalies lead to a zombie outbreak. Cliff, Ronnie, and cop colleague Mindy (Sevigny) try to figure out what to do about it.

The ‘story’ flows like a stream of consciousness (or frequency activated rectal tremor) gliding through the lives of twisted, kooky locals before reverting to the cops’ without sticking to a story path. The lack of direction reflects the aloofness of TDDD’s leads who saunter through the ghoul epidemic as unfazed as the legion of cinephiles will be in response to yet another undead adventure.

Over the past couple of decades, zombies have become so engrained in film and pop culture, the notion of fictional film characters having no prior knowledge of the undead seems more implausible than them rising from the grave in the first place. Cognisance is clearly part of Jarmusch’s m.o. but it fails to fortify or even justify TDDD. Jarmusch’s style make the film aesthetically and theoretically pleasing but doesn’t buttress the crux, plot, and plastically acted characters.

Jarmusch dots a quaint town of hardware stores and diners with juke boxes, coffee, cake, and racism, alongside the kind of quirky faces you come across between places. Tilda Swinton steals the show as a Scottish, Samurai sword-swinging funeral director-cum-mortician who makes thrashing zombies look as easy as hanging washing out. Aside from her and Hermit Bob, most of the others are perfunctorily performed, as though voiced and manoeuvred by kids, as action figures.

Some ‘hipsters from the big city’ pop up in a subplot, like the type who would typically lead a ‘80s slasher before being felled like pastrami. Meanwhile, kids in a nearby juvenile detention centre predict ‘total planetary destruction’. Danny Glover and Steve Buscemi play craggy locals. Carol Kane cameos as ‘the late Mallory O’ Brien’, a liquor loving local who returns seeking Chardonnay while a zombie Iggy Pop waddles in like a tranquilised penguin or a half-naked witch of the west.

A geeky fan bridges our world into the film through pop culture references, reinforcing the irony and meta fabric at TDDD’s centre. This character also contributes to a kooky Scooby Doo air that works wonders in a zombie context, with further nods to Psycho, Romero’s original Dead trilogy and by using terms like ghouls.

Unique narrative hooks include: continuous daylight caused by polar fracking, toxic lava vibrations linked to the earth rotation on axis as innovative outbreak sources, resulting in pets running away or turning on their owners. Hermit Bob also finds some out of season orange mushrooms growing in the forest, which could be to do with why the moon has turned purple. But, despite these quaint traits, TDDD remains crippled by core factors along with its own self-consciousness. JJ elatedly,

gratingly, and repeatedly breaks the fourth wall, referring to the song playing in the cop car (The Dead Don’t Die by Sturgill Simpson) as being the theme as it drifts from their radio into non-diegetic air while Cliff and Ronnie address the script directly by ask questions like “are we improvising here?”

The film flat lines in its final act while slithering towards a risible finale during which Jarmusch attempts to update and restate a message about consumerism that hasn’t changed much in forty years, since Romero’s Dawn of the Dead. If the point of JJ’s reiteration is to say nothing much has changed; we are all still locked in a cultural regurgitation and creativity drought as pop continues to eat itself, given this is all glaringly obvious, maybe he should have just let the undead rest.

Expected Rating: 8 out of 10

SPIDER-MAN: FAR FROM HOME

far home

SPIDER-MAN: FAR FROM HOME / CERT: 12A / DIRECTOR: JON WATTS / SCREENPLAY: CHRIS MCKENNA, ERIK SOMMERS / TOM HOLLAND, JON FAVREAU, JAKE GYLLENHAAL, SAMUEL L. JACKSON, MARISA TOMEI / RELEASE DATE: JULY 2ND

Well, now what? With the universe recovering from the events of Infinity War and Endgame, and the Avengers (as we know them) disassembled, the denizens of the MCU find themselves living in an irreversibly changed world. There are literal Gods, magicians, gamma monsters and space aliens visibly moving in their midst. Also recovering from the disappearance – and subsequent return – of half of the universe, it’s a scary time to be alive. The world is crying out for the next Iron Man. Where does that leave our friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man?

After travelling to outer space and back… mostly, he just wants a holiday. Leaving the Spidey suit at home, Peter Parker (Holland) joins the class trip to Europe, hoping to forget about the pressures of superhero life and snatch some time with the lovely MJ (Zendaya). Nick Fury (Jackson), however, has other plans. Bullied into Fury’s latest world-saving escapade, Spider-Man joins forces with the, uh, mysterious Mysterio (Gyllenhaal) in fighting a number of monstrous creatures known as ‘Elementals’ as they pop up around Europe. In Mysterio, Peter finds warmth and guidance – the kindly big brother to Tony Stark’s father figure. But is all as it seems? Could Mysterio really be a superhero from another dimension, come to save the day? No spoilers but, well… this is Mysterio.

After the grim beat-downs of Infinity War and the relentless bombastics of Endgame, Far From Home slows things down and gets back to basics, reacquainting audiences with Peter Parker and the everyday folk of the MCU. This is less a palate cleanser and more of an epilogue; unlike Ant-Man and the Wasp, it’s relevant and substantial, and gets some good world-building done in the wake of Thanos.

While the action is busier and the stakes higher than they were in Homecoming, director Jon Watts doesn’t forget about the characters. First and foremost, this is Peter Parker’s story, and Far From Home sees him struggle finding his place in the world without Tony Stark, weighed down with the great responsibility of being Spider-Man. In classic Spidey style, he juggles school life with superhero commitments, the latest horrible threat never more than a few moments away.

This gets Zendaya’s ‘MJ’ more screen time, filling out her character and allowing the actor to quietly steal every scene she’s in from Peter’s classmates. There’s a deft balance between humour and drama, and those tired of the MCU’s recent quip-fests should appreciate a more nuanced tone. It still remains very funny of course, but the humour is grounded in character rather than ‘jokes’ and Whedon-esque snark. The film, however, would still have benefited from about 50% less Happy Hogan.

With four films now under his belt, this is Tom Holland’s best outing yet as Spider-Man, and the character is more like the Spidey we know and love than ever before. Some elements remain underdeveloped or simply aren’t there (still no Uncle Ben), but Holland has made the role his own, and his Spider-Man now feels like a fully, properly integrated part of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

Also a part of the MCU: Mysterio. Jake Gyllenhaal’s Quentin Beck should go down as one of the MCU’s greatest achievements so far. The costume looks incredible (fishbowl and everything!) and Mysterio’s illusions are visually astounding. Far From Home shares a villain problem with The Guardians of the Galaxy 2, in that it’s all rather obvious, but that makes this fully realized Mysterio no less impressive.

Far From Home is a busier, less structured film than its predecessor, but it makes up for its shortcomings with incredible action, excellent performances and the best web-slinging ever seen in a Spider-Man film. This is the best live action Spider-Man movie since Spider-Man 2 – and only the shared universe trappings keep it from topping Raimi’s much-loved sequel.

While Far From Home doesn’t give a lot away in terms of what the next ‘phase’ might entail, it’s a beautiful epilogue to the Infinity Saga, and its mid and post-credits sequences are unmissable. With Thanos and the Endgame now done and dusted, this completes the final stretch of Marvel’s home run. Well… now what?

Expected Rating: 8 out of 10

ESCAPE PLAN 3

Escape Plan 3

DIRECTOR: JOHN HERZFELD | SCREENPLAY: MILES CHAPMAN | STARRING: SYLVESTER STALLONE, DAVE BAUTISTA, 50 CENT, JIN ZHANG, DEVON SAWA, JAIME KING, MELISE | UK RELEASE DATE: JULY 5TH (LIMITED THEATRICAL), AUGUST 26TH (HOME VIDEO)

After Arnold Schwarzenegger fled the Escape Plan franchise following the first film, shrewdly eluding its horrendous sequel, the series looked set to detonate, but Stallone and cine-brickhouse David Bautista have returned once again, in a second follow-up that’s astonishingly often enthralling. Director/co-writer John Herzfeld (Two Days in the Valley) injects a fitting realism and flays the sci-fi vibe, while his script, co-written with the original’s scribe Miles Chapman, is sharper, faster, less bombastic, but much more dramatic than its predecessors.

The story sees the daughter of a Chinese billionaire, Daya Zhang (Melise), kidnapped by the psychotic son of her former business associate. Daya’s kidnapper plants a data-stick inscribed with prison escapist Ray Breslin’s (Stallone) name, in the pocket of her unconscious bodyguard. The contents of which find their way to Breslin and lead him to Dervaniški, Belarus where Trent DeRosa (Bautista) and Daya’s ex-bodyguard Shen (Jin Zhang) plan a breakout to spring both Zhang and Breslin’s recently kidnapped girlfriend Abigail (King) from a giant ramshackle fortress.

The script’s tight set-up presents intriguing new scenarios and secondary characters who are more than just 2D targets to be shot in the backdrop. As the story unravels, so do their connections. Even the psychotic antagonist’s origins stem from the previous films’ backstories, making him motivated by more than just money and power. EP3 is also augmented by sub-plots linking lost loves with personal vendettas which enrich the script with a compound structure and constantly changing character dynamics. While these intricacies service the story, their internal conflicts are not efficiently extrapolated to heighten the drama and emotional arcs. But at the end of the day, this is an Escape Plan sequel, and anything other than bombastic dross is a bonus.

Instead of the previous entries’ ‘90s sci-fi pop noir and subtle cyberpunk vibe, recalling the likes of Freejack, Split Second, Strange Days, and No Escape, this movie is grounded with russet tenors and burnt umber hues evoking the likes of Richard Stanley’s Hardware and Dust Devil, along with bone-cracking violence. This includes Stallone stabbing a pole through the back of someone’s face, Bautista obliterating henchmen with a massive rocket shotgun, and a pitiless cell set punch-up between Breslin and a stooge, which shows Stallone doing what he does best, punching flunkies into artery-clotting thug pâté.

Where the Schwarzenegger shaped crater at the heart of Escape Plan 2 was patent, Bautista does better here as Stallone’s cohort than previously, but he isn’t imperative to this sequel’s success. While it’s refreshing to see Bautista get the stuffing knocked out of him by an equally juggernaut-sized ruffian during a face-slamming fight scene, there is little effective suspense. Yet tension buds during edgy interrogations and the plot flutters by swiftly enough to pay no mind to the sometimes trite dialogue. Aside from decent performances and well-woven backstories,  EP3 works better, surprisingly, stripped of its sci-fi fetters, as a straight up prison rescue thriller. While it’s far from ground-breaking and occasionally stammers, this second sequel frequently soars and kicks ass where it counts.

CHARLIE SAYS

Charlie

DIRECTOR: MARY HARRON | SCREENPLAY: GUINEVERE TURNER | STARRING: HANNAH MURRAY, SUKI WATERHOUSE, ANNABETH GISH, MATT SMITH | RELEASE DATE: JULY 29TH

The director of American Psycho tackles one of the country’s most infamous in Charlie Says, documenting the lives of three women in Charles Manson’s hippy commune. The story hooks up with ‘Charlie’ in the months and days prior to his followers’ crimes, as a manipulative, charismatic aspiring musician building a small cult of damaged followers craving his attention. And, oh, the things they will do to secure Charlie’s favour.

For all the screentime Matt Smith’s Charles Manson gets, this film truly belongs to Leslie Van Houten, Patricia Krenwinkel and Susan Atkins – the three disturbed young women caught up in Charlie’s bullshit. Whether they deserve the spotlight, however, is a different matter entirely. Guinevere Turner’s script (inspired by caseworker Karlene Faith’s memoirs) explores the why rather than the what, following newest recruit Van Houten (Game of Thrones’ Hannah Murray) as she falls under Charlie’s thrall. By necessity, we’re asked to sympathise with the devils; confused individuals, exploited and abused by a charismatic, self-serving monster.

This angle is a rare direction of approach for a biopic on this particular psychopath, with its director well-suited to the subject matter. Like her Patrick Bateman, Harron’s Charles Manson is depicted as a seductive idiot; an imbecile with a thesaurus and a knack for honing in on the vulnerable. Smith is surprisingly restrained as Manson, resisting the urge to go larger-than-life or lean into the beast’s mannerisms.  And yet still, Charlie Says is disappointingly superficial, lacking a handle on its characters’ inner workings. Van Houten, particularly, is difficult to read, and the film feels as though it is grasping at straws every time it asks for us to sympathise with her, or believe in a sense of inner conflict that nobody really knows was there or not.

Far more successful is the film’s other timeline, set after the Manson murders, with the three women dealing with the fallout of their crimes in a prison block together. This does away with the camp theatricality of life in the Manson compound (done better in Mandy anyway) and hones in on the aftermath, where the real insight is to be garnered. Charlie Says is more thoughtful and even-handed than most Manson family biopics out there (ranging from the disrespectful Haunting of Sharon Tate to the downright repulsive Wolves at the Door), bringing a balance that many will claim its subjects simply do not deserve. It’s a similar route as taken by the recent Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile, made more effective by a trio of commanding performances and well-documented case histories. It’s commendable that we’re getting another perspective on the matter, but there’s no hiding from the fact that forty years later, the world is still hanging on every word that Charlie says.

 

 

BLACK FLOWERS

black flowers

BLACK FLOWERS / CERT:TBC / DIRECTOR & SCREENPLAY: MARTIN GOOCH / STARRING: KRISTA DEMILLE, ANDREA SWEENEY-BLANCO, JESÚS LLOVERAS, WILLIAM MARK MCCULLOUGH / RELEASE DATE: TBC

The balloon goes up. The bomb is dropped. The world is plunged into nuclear madness. Two years after the apocalypse Kate (DeMille), her husband Sam (Ron Roggé) and daughter Suzy (Sweeney-Blanco) are struggling to survive in a world now filled with barbarians, cannibals, weirdos, and cultists. They meet up with Joe (Lloveras), a morally-dubious loner who tells them about a secret bunker full of food, medicine, and salvation. A grim situation soon gets even worse and Kate finds herself adrift in a world of predators and desperate survivalists and a strange new strain of black flowers, which possess the power to kill and heal.

Black Flowers confounds its low budget and the slightly bitty and episodic nature of its narrative to deliver a striking and occasionally disturbing post-nuclear apocalypse scenario. At the beginning of the film, our ‘hero family’ are enjoying an idyllic holiday relaxing in a swimming pool with barely a care in the world; a mushroom cloud blossoms on the horizon but the carefree holiday is frozen in Kate’s memory and it’s a moment she holds on to and returns to in her subconscious as her world continues to fall apart long after the end of the world itself. It’s just as well she has something pleasant to remember as the future doesn’t look too rosy and there’s precious little cause for optimism in the blasted, dead land in which she finds herself. Battling to find both the shelter and her daughter who has been taken in by Joe’s frankly unlikely charms, Kate encounters a strange (if rather unconvincing) cult heading to the top of a nearby mountain; a desperate survivor who just wants the torment to end and, perhaps most interestingly, a hedonistic settlement led by the charismatic DJ Apocalypso (McCullogh), who are partying away its supplies and happy to embrace ‘the end’ when it finally arrives.

Black Flowers delivers some impressive visuals – the cinematography is quite cinematic in places, giving the film a real sense of scale (one scene set in a devastated city is especially eerie) – which go some way to offsetting some of the problems inherent in the film’s slightly sloppy screenplay and some slightly ramshackle acting. Kate is a commendably determined female lead but DeMille’s performance is occasionally a little eccentric, her attempts at portraying a woman pushed to extremes and beyond sometimes veering into the unintentionally comical as she grimaces, gurns, and contorts herself to the point that she seems to misunderstand the text and deliver a performance intended for an entirely different movie.

Misgivings and shortcomings aside, Black Flowers is possessed of a lilting, haunting beauty and in places it’s a fearsomely accomplished and visually arresting movie from a writer/director who clearly understands the form of the post-apocalyptic genre and has brought a convincing, disquieting and largely utterly convincing end-of-the-world scenario to the screen on a fraction of the funds available to journeyman wham-bam directors like Michael Bay and Roland Emmerich.

TOY STORY 4

STORY 4

TOY STORY 4 / CERT: U / DIRECTOR: JOSH COOLEY / SCREENPLAY: STEPHANY FOLSOM, ANDREW STANTON / STARRING: TOM HANKS, TIM ALLEN, KEANU REEVES, ANNIE POTTS, TONY HALE, JORDAN PEELE, CHRISTINA HENDRICKS / RELEASE DATE: OUT NOW

Let’s face it, even the most popular movie franchises are pushing it a bit if they chance their arm on a fourth instalment. Just ask Men in Black: International. Ouch. Pixar’s Toy Story trilogy (1995-2010) is not only one of the most beloved series of films in cinema history, it’s also widely regarded as pretty much faultless. It’s the one franchise that never dropped the ball, never faltered, and never made that groan-inducing misstep or poor judgement call. Everyone loves Toy Story and Toy Story makes the world seem like a slightly better place. News that a fourth instalment was being planned – and was eventually in production – caused a lot of brow-furrowing and anxiety. Were Pixar chancing their arm by going back to a well that seemed to have been so wonderfully mined – and brought to such a joyous, uplifting ending with Toy Story 3? Was Toy Story 4 just going to be a cheap cash crab, exploiting the goodwill of the original trilogy and despoiling its legacy of loveliness?

Of course not. Pixar is far too sharp to clumsily kill the golden goose that launch a new era in computer animation and made them the front runners in this exciting new cinematic art form. Breathe easy, relax. Toy Story 4 not only doesn’t let the side down, it serves as a charming, colourful, wonderful coda to the original trilogy – with the proviso that this really is and should be the full stop. Toy Story 4 ties up loose ends we probably hadn’t realised existed and manages to send our heroes off on a wild new adventure whilst introducing some new characters who are sure to quickly become as memorable and iconic as Woody, Buzz and the rest of the gang.

At the end of Toy Story 3, nine long years ago, Woody and co., abandoned by the college-bound Andy, found a new life in the adoring hands of Bonnie, their new owner. But times are changing again. Woody is being neglected by Bonnie and, when she attends kindergarten orientation, Woody, worried that the young girl will be overwhelmed by the new experience, sneaks into her backpack and encourages her to make a new toy out of a discarded ‘spork’ and others bits and pieces. ‘Forky’ (brilliantly voiced by Tony Hale) is convinced he is ‘trash’ and wanders off on a mission of self-destruction, Woody goes in hot pursuit desperate to save Bonnie’s beloved new plaything. Bonnie’s family set off on a road trip in a rented CV, which is where the adventure really begins. At an antique toy store, Woody is reunited with an old friend and meets up with the apparently-malevolent doll Gabby Gabby (Hendricks) and her quartet of genuinely-creepy ventriloquist-style dummies. Buzz, meanwhile, is off on his own mission to find Woody with the help of joined-at-the-wrist plush toys Ducky and Bunny and entirely self-unaware Canadian stunt toy Duke Kaboom (unmistakably Keanu Reeves).

In truth, it takes a little while for Toy Story 4 to find its feet and convince us that it has a real raison d’etre. The first act suggests a film happy to revisit former glories without offering anything new, but the series’ beating heart restarts when we meet the ultimately rather tragic Gabby Gabby, and Woody is reunited with his soulmate Bo Peep (Annie Potts). The stunts and adventures are fast and furious and dizzyingly inventive, the animation is now beyond state-of-the-art and the moral is as front and centre here as it’s always been since the first film way back in 1995.

Does Toy Story 4 tug at the heartstrings in the same way as its predecessors – especially Toy Story 3? In truth, no it doesn’t; there are a handful of lump-in-the-throat, eye-moistening moments that remind us why we love the series, but they themselves don’t really tread new ground, they revisit familiar territory by coming at it from a slightly different angle. There is, though, a very definitive feeling that this is the end; that things are now as they should be and that the last Toy Story that might have needed to be told has now been told. It’s a sweet, tender ending, which brings down the curtain with class and style on a series that, thankfully, never compromised on its creative integrity and never let down the audience that grew up with it and cherished it. Toy Story 4 is a delight… and that alone is more than we could have reasonably expected of it and more than enough reason for it to exist at all. Friends indeed.

RE-HOME

RE-HOME / CERT: TBC / DIRECTOR & SCREENPLAY: IZZY LEE / STARRING: GIGI SAUL GUERRERO, MORGAN PETER BROWN, KASEY LANSDALE / RELEASE DATE: TBC

In Texas, after the much-flaunted border wall has been built, the young Mexican-American Maria arrives to leave her baby at a care home run by white American couple Laura and Matt in the hope of a better life for her, and soon finds out whether or not she made the right decision.

Izzy Lee’s short films typically use horror to address societal issues, but even though Re-Home is more or less a straight drama, it still makes good use of its time. It acknowledges that even though people may agree on an issue, the way in which it affects them can vastly differ. Such an us-and-them attitude is highlighted when Laura cluelessly refers to Mexicans as “your people,” and the wall as a “costly eyesore,” apparently oblivious to its presence as a symbol of a shattered society.

A sinister atmosphere permeates the scene, augmented by enigmatic glances between the spouses and a background score that amplifies the already pervasive tension, generating the feeling that something isn’t quite right, and leaves you expecting something to happen without knowing when or exactly what it will be. The end comes as a revelation that reinforces the point of class division in an even more impacting way, hammering home the point that perceiving people as different and separate is a small step away from discounting them as an Other to be disregarded and subjugated.

It makes for uncomfortable viewing that leaves you tense and uneasy, and that’s precisely the point. Although its events might be a slight exaggeration, it in no way means that the issues it brings up are not contemporary extrapolations, forcing you to acknowledge their relevance. The contempt is made clear for the attitudes people have towards concerns that don’t directly affect them, casting them as blithely ignorant to how their nonchalant indifference indirectly contributed to the escalating problem and its horrific end result.

Re-Home is something akin to a modern equivalent of a Grimm Brothers fairytale, existing in a world recognisable as like our own but also different enough for its events to not seem out of place. It’s a prescient cautionary tale, warning that isolationist bigotry threatening to define and fragment people along overly simplified lines has no positive end result for anyone.

SLAPFACE [Short Film]

SLAPFACE / CERT: TBC / DIRECTOR & SCREENPLAY: JEREMIAH KIPP / STARRING: JOSHUA KAUFMAN, NICK GREGORY, LUKAS HASSEL / RELEASE DATE: TBC

Slapface begins with a lone young boy screaming into the wilderness for someone to meet him, and is then followed up with him being chased through the vast expanse of an empty forest by a large, strange, scary-looking monster. It might seem simple to draw conclusions from such a setup, but Slapface soon makes clear that it’s not what it first appears to be.

The short packs a lot into its brief run time, and most of it remains unspoken and only implied. When the boy and the Ogre (as the credits lists it) are running through the forest, the action seems almost playful rather than sinister and, later, we see the state of the boy’s home life, when it becomes apparent that neither he nor his father are dealing with the death of his mother in any kind of healthy way. The full extent of what’s going on is left open to interpretation, and it’s a story that welcomes expansion into a full feature.

The countryside location is filmed beautifully, the fading light of a setting sun still bright in the sky, although the wintry chill of the air holds back any warmth that might be gained from it, while vibrant blue flowers carpeting the ground invoke an otherworldly almost magical atmosphere.

The observation that sometimes monsters can be possessed of more humanity than actual humans is a popular one, but in this case it’s taken a bit further, with the film asking us to consider the circumstances that led to this point and how they might have had an influence on the behaviour of the characters. Slapface is a straightforward story, but there is a lot going on behind it for you to consider after it’s ended.

THE OBLITERATION OF THE CHICKENS

THE OBLITERATION OF THE CHICKENS / CERT: TBC / DIRECTOR & SCREENPLAY: IZZY LEE / STARRING: BRACKEN MacLEOD / RELEASE DATE: TBC

Um.

Okay.

Right.

Some things are so off-the-wall bonkers it takes a while to process exactly what it is you’ve just seen, let alone actually put your reaction to it into coherent words. The Obliteration of the Chickens is such an experience. Although technically a short film, it wouldn’t quite be right to refer to it as such, since it’s so purposefully counter to what such a designation implies that it would make watching it even more confusing if you went into it with associated expectations.

It features an assortment of stock footage cut together into a surreal and hallucinatory fever, while a voice recites nihilistic pronouncements in a breathy German accent reminiscent of Werner Herzog, commenting on the uncaring nature of the universe and utter futility of attempting to achieve anything. To begin with, it sounds very similar to the tedious verbal ejaculations of self-proclaimed free thinkers who believe themselves unrestricted by societal indoctrination that shackles the brainwashed masses to dull and vapid existences.

However, it becomes apparent that the film is structured to satirise such cerebral pretension, with declarations on the cosmic insignificance of a child eating ice cream accompanied by subliminal flashes of hand-drawn skulls, or the juxtaposition of a Nietzsche quotation with an image of a chocolate Easter bunny.

Paradoxically, this actually makes it more self aware than the smug circle-jerking of the armchair philosophers it parodies in a Galaxy Brain explosion of comic dismissals, portraying itself as so intellectually transcendent that it defies the very viability of the concepts it nevertheless utilises. “The Abyss is stupid,” it declares.

Each subsequent thoughtline descends ever further into incoherent rambling, occasionally using so many condescending soundbites it ends up contradicting itself, before arriving at a drunken rant about the titular farm animals, “the basest nature of the universe.” We are left with a warning to not allow ourselves to be overcome by the chaos that birds are the earthly avatars of, and we end the experience forever changed, but in ways that we as insignificant mortals likely lack the faculties to truly comprehend.

CHILD’S PLAY

Child's Play

CHILD’S PLAY / CERT: 15 / DIRECTOR: LARS KLEVBERG / SCREENPLAY: TYLER BURTON SMITH / STARRING: AUBREY PLAZA, GABRIEL BATEMAN, MARK HAMILL, BRIAN TYREE HENRY / RELEASE DATE: JUNE 21ST

How unpredictable that, of all the great horror icons, Chucky the diminutive killer doll should be the last one standing. Peers Freddy, Jason, Michael and Leatherface have all seen their remakes come, go and retconned. Hell, even Leprechaun got in there first. Only Chucky and his Dark Passenger Charles Lee Ray remained, the original and only version of the character.

Until now. Serial killer Charles Lee Ray is exorcised from the equation in this remake, which hits the factory reset button and reboots Chucky as a piece of AI tech gone wrong. Child’s Play 2019 is less Chucky, more Chappie, as the buggy doll with switched-off safety protocols begins to take its cues from a gang of idiot kids’ cruel pranks and, uh, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2.

The broadest strokes of the story remain the same; sad loner Andy Barclay is gifted a fancy doll for his birthday, in lieu of friends or a father figure. Once taken into the family home, ‘Chucky’ quickly takes on a sinister pattern of behaviour, reaching for the knife drawer and Wifi codes. But this Chucky is an altogether creepier creation than his predecessor – not least due to his utterly hideous design – genuinely in love with Andy and determined to murder anyone who might stand in the way of their friendship. Like Robert Englund’s Freddy, Brad Dourif is all but irreplaceable as Chucky, but Mark Hamill (!) gives it his best shot, and is a lot of fun as Chucky 2.0.

Aubrey Plaza, too, is a delight as Karen Barclay. The role remains a thankless one, but Plaza’s younger, cooler, offbeat Manic Pixie Dream Mom is different enough to turn the dynamics around and make this Barclay household more than a simple rehash.

If anything, there are too many ideas at (child’s) play here, with attempts at recapturing the kids-on-bikes magic of It and a setup that recalls a recent Black Mirror episode. The finale feels like a whole sequel tacked on to the ending of a different movie; going big and bombastic where something smaller and darker would have been more natural. Supporting characters aren’t given enough time to breathe and the cathartic beats feel unearned and perfunctory. What should have been an intimate showdown between Chucky, Andy and Mom becomes an overblown, crowded mess with too many characters and no scares.

Regardless, this is a better film than it has any right to be. It’s funnier and more inventive than anyone could have expected, with grisly and creative kill sequences on a par with some of the franchise’s best. It’s worth it for Hamill’s juicy voice work alone, simpering his way through unsettling dialogue and snarling one-liners; crooning hilariously over the end credits. Frankly, Child’s Play does not deserve Mark Hamill.

For this is a difficult film to like. Even beyond its modern contrivances, horrible doll designs and desperate playing for the Stranger Things crowd, it feels like a slap in the face to audiences who have been enjoying the real Chucky’s recent adventures just fine. Even at its very best, it doesn’t hold a candle to Curse of Chucky or Cult of Chucky. Don Mancini and Brad Dourif deserved better than this casual disrespect.

Child’s Play is better than it should or could have been, but it’s a soulless knock-off and a pale imitation of the real thing.