Alex McPherson

Total Post: 156

Alex McPherson is an unabashed pop culture nerd and a member of the St. Louis Film Critics Association.

David Lowery’s ‘The Green Knight’ is Hallucinatory Spectacle to Behold

David Lowery’s ‘The Green Knight’ is Hallucinatory Spectacle to Behold

By Alex McPherson
Based on the 14th-century Arthurian tale “Sir Gawain and the Green Knight,” director David Lowery’s film, aptly titled “The Green Knight,” is an impeccably constructed fantasy epic with bizarre imagery and dense themes begging to be mulled over for years to come. 

The story begins in Camelot, with Gawain (Dev Patel), an aimless young warrior and nephew to King Arthur himself (Sean Harris), getting the chance to finally give his life purpose beyond drinking and cavorting his days away. During a Christmas gathering, the aging King and his wife, Queen Guinnevere (Kate Dickie), draw attention to the fact that Gawain doesn’t have any stories to tell — not yet, at least — and a mysterious, bark-covered giant shows up, calling himself the Green Knight (voiced by Ralph Ineson with imposing gusto).

The gritty medieval Groot offers a challenge to the Round Table — he will allow anyone brave enough to strike a blow against him, so long as they agree to receive the same treatment in one year. Gawain, careless as ever and wanting to impress his company and his suspicious mother, Morgan Le Fay (Sarita Choudhury), agrees to the challenge when nobody else will, promptly decapitating the Knight. He immediately regrets his decision, as the Knight, holding his severed head, gallops away on his horse laughing maniacally. In one year, Gawain must complete his end of the agreement. Oops. 

The clock begins ticking, and once the year passes, Gawain sets out on his journey across a fantastical land to reach the Green Chapel and fulfill his pact. Unsurprisingly, the quest is grueling, and the self-doubting Gawain encounters a variety of strange entities — mischievous themes, a mournful spirit, and a fox companion, among others — that require him to confront his supposedly heroic ideals and his own mortality in the pursuit of becoming a legend. 

Absolutely brimming with cinematic artistry and featuring a magnificent performance from Dev Patel, “The Green Knight” won’t appeal to viewers seeking a more traditional, action-packed epic that spoon-feeds them what to think or how to feel. Rather, Lowery’s masterpiece embraces all the sensory qualities of the film medium to fully transport viewers into Gawain’s journey, which winds up being far more existential than some viewers may be prepared for. There are certainly physical threats to be found along the way, but “The Green Knight” renders most of Gawain’s conflicts internal, as he grapples with his self-imposed burden and slowly but surely grows not only as a warrior, but as a human being, with imperfection to match his courage.

From its opening frames, “The Green Knight” is devoted to walking its own path and being undeniably weird while doing so. There’s tons to feast on stylistically — evocative, period-accurate costuming, lighting that evolves from decorated interiors to fog-drenched forests and blood red lakes, deliciously tactile sound design, and mystical yet lived-in environments, with a score by Daniel Hart fitting for a horror film in its off-kilter, slightly crazed rhythms. All of this is complemented by sweeping, at-times mind-boggling cinematography that flows through the royal interiors and vast landscapes that Gawain traverses, becoming ever-stupefying as Gawain treks onwards, further into his own soul. This is a film that demands to be watched on the biggest screen possible and with limited distractions. 

Of course, Lowery’s film isn’t pure style over substance, and there’s plenty to contemplate in terms of storytelling and characters here. Gawain is a naive and reckless individual who isn’t initially easy to care about but develops in a significant fashion by the end. He’s forced to consider the sacrifices necessary for greatness, the notion of honor itself, and the fallibility of human nature despite illusions of superiority. Like Lowery’s other films, especially “A Ghost Story,” “The Green Knight” is focused on the concept of death, mortality, and Nature’s grip over us all. Indeed, the proceedings are depicted so ambiguously that some viewers may become frustrated with the film’s opaqueness. For this critic, however, the events — especially a nightmarish, darkly poetic sequence late in the film — haven’t left my mind, and keep revealing additional thematic layers the more I ponder them.

Lending “The Green Knight” an emotionally grounded core despite its vagueness, though, is Patel. A subversive casting choice for a story typically dominated by white men, he portrays the warrior’s growing insecurities in a subtle fashion that endears us to him from his first appearance onwards. Alicia Vikander also does excellent work playing dual roles, as Gawain’s lower-class girlfriend, Essel, and as a seductive temptress later on. Ineson, as the Green Knight, is intimidating, but has an aura of warmth and amusing self-awareness nevertheless. Barry Keoghan and Joel Edgerton give memorable turns as a creepy brigand and an uneasily jovial lad that Gawain encounters near the finale. 

There’s a lot to digest once the credits roll — make sure to stay through them —  that I’m eager to dive back into this wondrous, often frightening world to decipher all the symbolism and peculiar characters to unearth more meaning. I haven’t felt this way about many other films released in 2021 so far, but “The Green Knight” stands head and shoulders above most of them in terms of pure intellectual engagement and eye-popping creativity. Cinephiles shouldn’t expect anything less from A24, and viewers should go in knowing that “The Green Knight” engages the mind just as much as the senses, even if multiple viewings are all but required to fully appreciate it.

“The Green Knight” is a 2021 historical drama directed by David Lowery and starring Dev Patel, Joel Edgerton and Alicia Vikander. Rated R for violence, some sexuality and graphic nudity, it has a runtime of 2 hours, 10 minutes. The movie opened in theaters on July 30. Alex’s Grade: A+ 

‘Val’ An Affectionate Biography on Actor’s Life and Career

‘Val’ An Affectionate Biography on Actor’s Life and Career

By Alex McPherson

Directors Ting Poo and Leo Scott’s new documentary, “Val,” provides a zoomed-in look at actor Val Kilmer’s life that, while somewhat hagiographic, forms an affecting story of perseverance, reinvention, and reaching for the stars. Cutting between personal video recordings narrated by his son, Jack, along with current footage of him contemplating the meaning of life, “Val” spotlights a complicated figure through a career of soaring highs and crippling lows. 

Growing up in Los Angeles to wealthy parents, Kilmer developed an intense passion for filmmaking and acting — creating home movies on Roy Rogers’ Ranch with his brothers, Wesley and Mark, that parodied such classics as “Jaws.” At age 17, Kilmer was the youngest student accepted at Juilliard at the time, but Wesley died in a tragic accident soon before, leaving Kilmer reeling with grief.

Determined to make a name for himself, the talented, handsome Kilmer excelled in his studies and, after graduating, eventually acted in a Broadway production of “Slab Boys.” His acclaim landed him film gigs in the 1980s and ‘90s, including in “Top Gun,” “The Doors,” “Tombstone,” “Heat” and as the Caped Crusader in “Batman Returns.” 

Despite his fame, Kilmer remained largely unsatisfied with his career, feeling as though his personal brand of acting was held back by the roles he was assigned. His arrogance, disguised as devotion to the craft, sparked conflicts with collaborators, including on the set of “The Island of Dr. Moreau,” which garnered Kilmer a troubled reputation.

Flash forward to today and the charismatic soul, having survived throat cancer and undergone a tracheostomy distorting his speech, is a much humbler individual than before — seeking to help viewers understand the human being behind the persona, and willing to share the wisdom he’s learned through his experiences.  

Although not immune from indulgent flourishes, “Val” winds up being a cathartic look at a celebrity looking back on a turbulent career and embracing the beauty of love, family, and creativity in the present. The film allows the world to see a frank, though nevertheless curated, look behind the tabloids.

Eschewing the talking-heads format common to documentaries, “Val” features copious footage recorded by Kilmer himself over the last 40 years. Viewers see behind-the-scenes shenanigans with fellow actors, footage from his childhood projects, audition tapes for “Full Metal Jacket,” and much more, in addition to darker moments of Kilmer’s self-destructive tendencies.

In modern times, we see Kilmer spend time with his son and daughter, Mercedes, attend draining autograph signings at Comic Con, mourn what he’s lost, and ponder what the future holds. 

As “Val’” juxtaposes the rowdy, perfectionistic younger man with his significantly wiser self years later, it’s often moving, as viewers grow attached to the aging figure at the center of it all. Indeed, the film is organized in a bittersweet fashion — chock full of impactful moments both happy and sad, with thought-provoking reflections sprinkled throughout that tie most everything together. Through the lens of viewers unfamiliar with Kilmer’s previous work, however, “Val” might not hit as hard as intended when nostalgia is lessened. 

Although Kilmer’s story is inspiring, “Val” feels more like a melancholic tribute than a comprehensive exploration, for better and worse. For instance, the film treats his Christian Science background and on-set controversies with a light touch. “Val” also follows a traditional narrative trajectory that’s, in a sense, at odds with Kilmer’s own goals of shaking things up with his projects.

Suffice to say, when Kilmer begins comparing himself to Mark Twain, “Val” feels a bit too full of itself, and loses some of its emotional power as a result.

(Twain, one of his influences, inspired his one-man show turned film presentation, “Cinema Twain,”  and his charity, TwainMania, is about teaching the authors to students.)

Easy to admire but ham-strung by its limited perspective, “Val” still delivers a revealing look at a frequently underrated actor who has finally achieved a sense of inner peace. What we’re left with is a film that’s not as profound as it thinks it is, but leaves us with a greater understanding of a flawed, resilient artist who hasn’t abandoned his dreams.

Val Kilmer

“Val” is a 2021 documentary co-directed by Ting Poo and Leo Scott. It is rated R for some language and runs 1 hour, 49 minutes. It is available in theaters on July 23 and on Amazon Prime on Aug. 6. Alex’s grade: B.

‘Fear Street Part 3: 1666’ – A Riveting Final Chapter

‘Fear Street Part 3: 1666’ – A Riveting Final Chapter

By Alex McPherson

Well, dear readers, the time has sadly come for the conclusion of director Leigh Janiak’s “Fear Street” series. Fortunately, “Part 3:1666” ends the trilogy in an emotionally fulfilling, adrenaline-fueled fashion.

Without going too far into spoiler territory, “1666” sees Deena (a wonderful-as-ever Kiana Madeira) being transported back in time in Sarah Fier’s body, originally played by Elizabeth Scopel, to witness the origins of the curse that’s haunted Shadysiders ever since. The film features a new cast of characters, but most of them are portrayed by the same actors from former installments, some of whom adopt similar dynamics. Most notably, this includes Olivia Scott Welch, who plays Sarah’s love interest in “1666,” as well as Sam, Deena’s lover, in 1994. Ashley Zukerman, who embodies Sheriff Goode in 1994, also makes a meaningful return as Sarah’s friend Solomon, who holds his own secrets.  

Although there are opportunities for hard-working Sarah to relax, her story is relentlessly grim — containing themes of superstition, intolerance, and hatred of the Other that have remained prevalent throughout human history. As Sarah finds herself embroiled in a web of deceit, misogyny, and fateful events that have long-lasting repercussions on Shadyside’s future, there’s little hope for escape. Once her tragic ordeal wraps up, Janiak sends viewers back to 1994 once again, as Deena, Josh (Benjamin Flores Jr.), C. Berman (Gillian Jacobs), and janitor Martin (Darrell Britt-Gibson) attempt to rescue Sam from demonic possession and use their newfound knowledge to finally end the curse.

Tonal inconsistency notwithstanding, “1666” is a disturbing, intelligent, and rewarding finale that successfully ties up loose ends while enhancing what’s come before. Janiak delivers an experience with more layers than both “1994” and “1978,” capping off the overarching narrative with panache. 

“Fear Street” has progressively grown creepier with each entry, and “1666” is the eeriest of the bunch. Indeed, by bringing viewers back into such an antiquated period, the film is able to distill its horror into a more potent, disquieting brew. Most plot developments even feel scarily plausible on some level, drawing comparisons to the Salem Witch Trials. Along with convincing set design and a more immersive atmosphere than its predecessors, “1666” is able to conjure dread-inducing moments aplenty. Janiak’s serious-minded approach, at least for the first half, underscores the monstrousnesses of Sarah’s bigoted townsfolk just as much as the actual supernatural forces at play.

It’s initially jarring to be sent so far back in time and see actors we’ve grown attached to inhabiting different people, with questionable accents, but Janiak uses this dissonance for subversive effect. Throughout the films, for instance, the Shadyside curse inspires a sense of fatalism in many residents that they’re stuck in an endless cycle of death and alienation from the outside world. Seeing recognizable faces where it all began heightens viewers’ desire to see Deena and friends right the wrongs of the past in the present, attempting to break the pattern once and for all.

Additionally, forbidden love rests at the heart of Sarah’s flashback, and “1666” is able to use that connection to forge an attachment with her from the get-go, utilizing viewers’ investment in Deena and Sam’s relationship to heighten poignancy and encourage reflection on biases that carry over across timelines. Sarah remains an intriguing character on her own, and her plight is easy to become invested in as she gradually begins to doubt herself yet retains bravery in the face of humanity’s worst instincts.  

With an ever-mounting sense of hopelessness, Sarah’s tale isn’t easy viewing, replacing subtlety with visceral impact, but it leaves a chilling aftertaste. Then, however, “1666” takes a hard left turn back into the self-aware, occasionally cheesy tone of “1994” to wrap things up. The tonal shift is certainly jarring for a bit, but once viewers become acclimated, there’s pleasure to be had in watching the heroes make their triumphant last stand — not just for themselves, but for the future of Shadyside itself. 

Some elements, like the major plot twist, feel undercooked, and the second half resembles the largely scare-less final act of “1994,” yet it’s still oh-so-fun to see what happens to these courageous characters. For all the haunted-house-roller-coaster pacing, the revelation effectively adds a new layer to the previous films, encouraging viewers to rewatch them and examine how all the pieces fit together. 

Whether or not viewers can overlook the semi-fractured feel of “1666,” there’s little denying that Janiak and company have created an impressive whole, one that has matured over its duration to form an ambitious, albeit far-fetched, allegory targeting resonant societal truths. There’s definitely imperfections to be found in each film, but Janiak’s R. L. Stine-inspired project reaches its stride in “1666,” leaving the door open for future adventures in Shadyside.

“Fear Street Part 3: 1666” is the last film in a 2021 trilogy now streaming on Netflix, adapted from R.L. Stine’s book series. Directed by Leigh Janiak, it stars Kiana Madeira, Benjamin Flores Jr., Gillian Jacobs and Ashley Zukerman. Rated R for strong violence and gore, language, some sexuality and brief drug use, it runs 1 hour, 54 minutes. Alex’s Grade: A-.

‘Fear Street Part 2: 1978’ Is An Underwhelming Summer Bloodbath

‘Fear Street Part 2: 1978’ Is An Underwhelming Summer Bloodbath

By Alex McPherson

Director Leigh Janiak’s “Fear Street Part 2: 1978,” based on R.L. Stine’s novels, lacks the spark of the first installment, but still delivers a moderately engaging slasher throwback with bucketloads of gore.

After the ridiculous events of “Fear Street Part 1: 1994,” Deena (Kiana Madeira) and Josh (Benjamin Flores Jr.) meet up with C. Berman (Gillian Jacobs), a survivor of the 1978 Camp Nightwing massacre, hoping to learn how to end Sarah Fier’s witchy curse.

As the traumatized woman recounts her experiences, viewers are transported back to Camp Nightwing to witness what transpired. The protagonist is Cindy Berman (Emily Rudd), an uptight, goodie two-shoes camp counselor who becomes aggravated when other supervisors prioritize drugs and sex over doing their jobs. Her sister, the trouble-making Ziggy (Sadie Sink), holds a nihilistic view towards life — remaining an outcast among fellow campers, but a friend of counselor and future Shadyside sheriff Nick Goode (Ted Sutherland), as well as being a victim to nonstop bullying from mean girl Sheila (Chiara Aurelia), who insists that Ziggy’s an actual witch. 

Just in time for the camp’s annual “Color War,” a capture-the-flag-esque event in which the vicious rivalry between Shadysiders and their stuck-up Sunnyvale neighbors rears its head in full force, things start to get creepy. After Nurse Lane (Jordana Spiro) violently confronts Cindy’s innocent boyfriend, Tommy Slater (McCabe Slye), suspicions arise as to whether Fier’s curse has returned. Cindy, accompanied by a few others including her ex-best friend, an irritating mumbler named Alice (Ryan Simpkins), attempt to find out what’s going on themselves. You guessed it, dear readers, all hell breaks loose, and the body count grows scene by scene. Can Cindy, Ziggy, and company make it out alive, or are they doomed to perish in a seemingly never-ending murder spree by an axe-wielding attacker?

Lacking the craftsmanship of “1994” regarding character depth and creativity, “1978” ends up being a fairly straightforward genre film that’s above average, but represents a downgrade from the trilogy’s opener. The second entry loses much of the adventurous fun of “1994,” coming across as rather dour, bleak, and unforgiving in comparison — full of cliches, yet promising better things to come in “Part 3.”

It’s clear that Janiak is attempting to tackle a different tone than “1994,” more akin to “Friday the 13th” than “Stranger Things.” In keeping with the change, “1978” begins rather generically once Berman begins her story, setting up the atmosphere of Camp Nightwing in a way that mostly doesn’t break from formula.

“1978” is a definite slow-burn compared to its predecessor, taking time to get underway, but effectively conveying a sun-drenched retreat with a dark heart and sickening future. Combined with a soundtrack of 70s era songs, Janiak once again captures the time period with a fitting attention to detail. In terms of camerawork, though, “1978” doesn’t feel as precise, featuring impressive tracking shots and spooky set design — enhanced by a sinister original score — but containing some dimly lit sequences and shaky cam that break immersion.

The batch of characters are decidedly inconsistent, but a few are explored meaningfully. Among them are Cindy and Ziggy, whose tensions are grounded in reality and easy to sympathize with. Living with a single parent and barely able to keep their house, the rift between them — with Cindy trying to support their family and Ziggy being increasingly pessimistic — is huge, but just like in “1994,” Janiak shows how frayed bonds can strengthen under shared threats. Rudd and Sink both give poignant performances and have solid chemistry with one another. Their dialogue is largely convincing, but interactions overall are missing the playful dynamic present in “1994.” 

The “Shadyside Curse” rests at the heart of characters’ conflicts in “1978,” creating a sense of existential dread in their fates seeming out of their control — accentuated by Alice’s character, a young woman who uses drugs to compensate for her mental struggles. Nick Goode’s character is also cleared up a bit from “1994,” as he gradually falls for Ziggy and considers what the supernatural events entail for his career in Shadyside.

The remainder of the characters adopt boringly plain archetypes — the attention-seeking leader, promiscuous hippie, etc. — and viewers don’t spend much time with them before they’re graphically murdered (younger campers are often slain off-screen). They certainly have a lot of blood to spill, on the other hand. Indeed, “1978” almost goes overboard here, rendering many saps expendable fodder for the big baddie.

Speaking of, Janiak’s film feels limited by only having a single main threat for the characters to face, relegated to using a single weapon. “1994” was far more unpredictable in its kills, and while “1978” never ceases to shock, the violence starts to feel repetitive by the end credits. At least the sequences surrounding the destruction are more suspenseful this time around, feeling more frantic and distressing than before, as the leads scramble to save their friends and loved ones while trying to figure out what’s really going on. 

With nearly as many flaws as strengths, “1978” fails to reach the heights of the original, but still offers its own gruesome, albeit unimaginative, pleasures. If nothing else, the film successfully builds hype for “Part 3,” which takes place in 1666 and details the background of Fier’s execution. There’s plenty more questions to answer and scares to be had, and I’m ready for the trilogy to surprise me once again.

“Fear Street Part 2: 1978” is part of a movie trilogy on Netflix, the first set in 1994 and the next one in 1666. Directed by Leigh Janiak, it stars Emily Rudd, Sadie Sink and Gillian Jacobs. Rated R for bloody horror violence, sexual content, nudity, drug use, and language throughout, its run time is 1 hour, 49 minutes. The movie began streaming on Netflix July 9. Alex’s Grade: B-

‘Fear Street Part 1: 1994’ Is Brutally Excellent Slasher Film for 2021

‘Fear Street Part 1: 1994’ Is Brutally Excellent Slasher Film for 2021

By Alex McPherson

“Fear Street Part 1: 1994” is an immensely enjoyable slasher flick with real heart beneath its ultraviolent set pieces.

Based on the “Fear Street” books by R.L. Stine, “1994” unfolds in the rural town of Shadyside, Ohio. Shadyside has a history of heinous murders stretching back hundreds of years, which some denizens believe involve possessions by a witch, named Sarah Fier, who was executed in 1666. Shadyside residents harbor an intense rivalry with the considerably wealthier neighboring city of Sunnyvale. Our protagonist is Deena (Kiana Madeira), an angsty, rebellious high schooler reeling from a breakup with her ex-girlfriend, Sam (Olivia Scott Welch), who recently moved to Sunnyvale.

Sarah’s curse potentially rears its head again when a skeleton-mask-donning psycho goes on a rampage at a local mall. After a confrontation with Sunnyvalers along a roadway, Sam disturbs the witch’s burial ground and unleashes an evil that resurrects killers from Shadyside’s past to exact revenge. Together, Deena and Sam — joined by Deena’s brother, Josh (Benjamin Flores Jr.), and friends Simon (Fred Hechinger) and Kate (Julia Rehwald) — must band together to lift the curse and live another day. 

With charming characters, palpable stakes, and high production value, director Leigh Janiak’s “Fear Street Part 1: 1994” is a finely crafted horror film that represents a strong start for her “Fear Street” trilogy.

With hints of “Stranger Things” from the get-go, amplified by a brief appearance from Maya Hawke herself, Janiak’s first entry strikes an effective balance between self-aware fun and nerve-wracking suspense, with a couple of genuinely shocking moments. Indeed, this isn’t a sanitized, family-friendly romp, even though the high school melodrama is sometimes humorous. Blood flows freely, and while the film isn’t exactly “scary,” due in large part to exceedingly predictable jump scares, there are several moments where the carnage hits viciously hard.  

“1994” depicts its youthful characters without condescension, treating them as three-dimensional people with their own flaws, desires, and colorful personalities, portrayed with youthful verve by a pitch perfect cast. All these characters are familiar archetypes, but there are a few wrinkles that add texture, emphasizing their vulnerability in ways that are often amusing, but also build emotional attachment. Deena, skillfully portrayed by Madeira in a standout performance, has a troubled home life and is sent spiraling from her breakup with Sam, resenting her while also being unable to let go.

Sam is similarly layered, being forced to make difficult decisions later on. Josh, a nerdy, inquisitive chap with detailed knowledge of Shadyside’s history, is an instantly likable character who winds up essential for the group’s survival. The squirrely, immature Simon works hard to support his family, while Kate — a high-achieving student — hustles drugs to help pay for her future.

Less noteworthy are the killers themselves — referencing classic horror films such as “Scream” and “The Shining.” They’re over-the-top and not grounded enough to instill genuine fear, but they deliver in the film’s harrowing second half. Combined with fast-paced editing, atmospheric lighting, and a solid score by Marco Beltrami, however, the threats faced by the central characters work well enough to create an edgy, stressful feel to numerous sequences, where plot armour is certainly not guaranteed. 

Sure, the dialogue is a tad uneven and the story doesn’t exactly beg to be closely analyzed, but “1994” knows exactly what kind of film it is and leans into tropes while standing out on its own merits. This is a thrilling, nostalgic watch for fans of the genre and newcomers alike. Hopefully the next installments, releasing on Netflix July 9 and July 16, are equally as successful.

“Fear Street Part 1: 1994” is the first of a movie trilogy on Netflix, based on the with the others — 1978, to be released July 9, and 1666, to be released July 16. The first one, directed by Leigh Janiak, stars Kiana Madeira, Olivia Scott Welch, Fred Hechinger, Benjamin Flores Jr. and Julia Rehwald. It is rated R for strong bloody violence, drug content, language and some sexual content and runs 1 hour, 47 minutes. It started streaming on Netflix July 2. Alex’s Grade: B+   

Big Rigs in Big Trouble in Liam Neeson’s Latest ‘The Ice Road’

Big Rigs in Big Trouble in Liam Neeson’s Latest ‘The Ice Road’

By Alex McPherson

Director Jonathan Hensleigh’s new film, “The Ice Road,” is a solid, thoroughly predictable chunk of B-movie entertainment. 

The film centers around Mike McCann (Liam Neeson), a blue-collar mechanic and big rig truck driver struggling to hold a job while looking after his brother, Gurty (Marcus Thomas), a war veteran with aphasia who’s also a skilled technician.

After an isolated diamond mine operated by Big Business “Katka” collapses in Manitoba, Canada, Mike and Gurty are recruited by fellow driver Jim Goldenrod (Laurence Fishburne) to help deliver life-saving wellheads to a mining base near the disaster location. They’re joined by a young Indigenous woman named Tantoo (Amber Midthunder) and a corporate actuary from Katka named Varnay (Benjamin Walker).

Together, the group must race to their destination before it’s game over for the miners, contending with all-powerful Mother Nature and greedy, cutthroat humans along the way.

Viewers likely know exactly what they’re signing up for with the “The Ice Road.” Indeed, Hensleigh’s film isn’t high art, but it remains an enjoyable diversion nevertheless. With Neeson embracing his action hero starhood once again, some likable characters, and a few stressful set-pieces, the film’s storytelling missteps and shoddy CGI don’t completely negate its charms.

Neeson does what he usually does here — portraying an aging badass with a short fuse willing to go to extreme lengths to protect those he cares about. While “The Ice Road” could have given his character more time to develop, he’s still a gruffly amusing lead, who’s fun to watch when let off the chain in the final act.

His brotherly bond with Gurty, well-portrayed by Thomas, is believable and surprisingly poignant, albeit heavy-handed thanks to the clunky script. Midthunder is underutilized but leaves a positive impression as Tantoo, an activist working for Goldenrod whose brother is trapped in the mine. Fishburne is primarily relegated to providing exposition dumps, but his grizzled mug fits in well amidst the snow-covered landscape.

The side-characters, on the other hand, don’t leave much of an impact. The backstabbing corporate heads of Katka are cartoonishly one-dimensional, and the sketchy Varnay has an arc that most viewers can likely foresee before the trek is even underway. The trapped miners are easy to sympathize with, but none of them stand out individually. Sure, we hope they get rescued, but “The Ice Road” could have done more to flesh them out as real people and not deploy them mainly as a plot device to heighten tension.

When our intrepid truckers embark on their treacherous voyage, “The Ice Road” presents some distinctive obstacles for them to overcome. Principally among these challenges are, you guessed it, the unstable ice roads they traverse. Hensleigh does an effective job at cranking up suspense when the ice could break beneath their feet at any moment. Watching them navigate their surroundings and evade deadly “ice waves” yields some thrilling moments, and scenes of Mike and company extricating themselves from sticky situations using their engineering skills are compelling to watch. 

Unfortunately, when “The Ice Road” becomes a more traditional action thriller in its second half, Hensleigh doesn’t quite deliver the goods the material warrants — using some fake-looking CGI and iffy hand-to-hand combat that lacks any real “oomph” factor, held back by the film’s PG-13 rating. Familiar tropes of last-minute escapes, heroic sacrifice, and the bad guy who absolutely will not die are present in full force. While those clichés aren’t glaringly bad, the film has neither the emotional stakes nor the visceral action necessary to forge its own path.

Still, despite all this, “The Ice Road” is an adequate, though forgettable, way to spend two hours, trucking along at a steady enough clip without totally spinning out.

“The Ice Road” is a 2021 action-thriller written and directed by John Hensleigh. Starring Liam Neeson, Laurence Fishburne, Benjamin Walker, Marcus Thomas and Amber Midthunder, it is rated PG-13 for strong language and sequences of action and violence. Run time is 1 hour, 49 minutes. Alex’s Grade: C+ 

’12 Mighty Orphans’ Is Satisfying But Not Quite Mighty Sports Drama

’12 Mighty Orphans’ Is Satisfying But Not Quite Mighty Sports Drama

By Alex McPherson
An uplifting, inspiring, though unremarkable sports drama, director Ty Roberts’ new film, “12 Mighty Orphans,” meets expectations without going the extra mile.

Based on Jim Dent’s novel of the same name and inspired from true events, the film transpires within the grimy, dust-swept landscape of Texas during the Great Depression of the 1930s. Many orphaned children were sent to such places as Fort Worth’s Masonic Home until able to join the workforce.

Rusty Russell (Luke Wilson), an orphaned World War I veteran himself, begins teaching math and science there. He is accompanied by his wife, Juanita (Vinessa Shaw), who teaches English, and his young daughter. He also becomes the new football coach, with kind-hearted physician Doc Hall (Martin Sheen) taking on assistant duties. Rusty believes the sport can help give the teenaged players a sense of community despite their hardships. 

With the kids lacking shoes, protective gear, and footballs to practice with, Rusty immediately realizes the challenges ahead of him. Difficulties are exacerbated by the abusive treatment the boys receive from superintendent Frank Wynn (Wayne Knight), who forces the boys to operate an in-house printing press, as well as by the tempers of several players, including the mentally scarred Hardy Brown (Jake Austin Walker). Will they be able to overcome these challenges and acquire a renewed sense of purpose in their lives?

Offering neither surprises nor genuine thrills, “12 Mighty Orphans” rides on its crowd-pleasing cliches and likable performances to score touchdowns. While Rusty’s team pioneered innovations in football that became widely used later on, “12 Mighty Orphans” plays much more to tradition, for better and worse. Some viewers might be left underwhelmed, but Roberts’ film delivers a sentimental story of comradeship and hope during crushing times.

Luke Wilson as Rusty Russell

Indeed, “12 Mighty Orphans” offers a sense of comforting predictability that’s difficult to fault, even though there isn’t much to ponder once the credits roll. All the expected plot beats of the “inspirational sports film” genre are covered, including the value of perseverance and the true meaning of victory, with ample speechifying to boot. The cast of characters — especially Rusty, Hardy, and the other orphans on the team — are largely sympathetic and likable, with fine acting across the board. 

Wilson gives a fittingly sincere effort as Rusty, conveying a stubborn optimism that yields both frustration and life-affirming joy, belying deeper insecurities. Sheen is decent, swigging alcohol and providing dry-humored remarks, in addition to delivering the film’s simplistic narration. Less strong are Shaw, not given much to work with, and Knight — rendered a one-note antagonist whose subplot doesn’t meaningfully add to the themes being explored. Lane Garrison is amusingly over-the-top portraying a petty rival coach from a nearby, wealthy high school.

The true standouts are the kids themselves. Walker brings a shattered, tormented quality to his performance as Hardy, portraying an individual suffering from impossible grief thrust into a new environment. His arc over the course of the film, as he discovers a passion for football and gradually bonds with his teammates, is moving and heart-warming, albeit easy to foresee. Jacob Lofland is excellent as Snoggs, a lean sap with a penchant for immaturity who nevertheless deeply cares for his peers.

Although “12 Mighty Orphans” fails to delve into its time period or the inner-workings of the Masonic Home with much nuance, it’s easy to root for “The Mighty Mites” as they grow closer as a family unit and achieve national attention. Still, overdone narration sometimes breaks the flow, especially when Sheen bluntly explains themes near the end, as do some eye-rollingly trite bits of dialogue and abrupt flashbacks to Rusty’s wartime past. 

Fortunately, the film is so heartfelt in its ambitions, and ultimately affecting in its execution, that the numerous criticisms I have don’t detract much from the experience. Not everything needs to be an unforgettable, emotional powerhouse, and “12 Mighty Orphans” succeeds where it counts.

“12 Mighty Orphans” is a 2021 fact-based sports drama directed by Ty Roberts and starring Luke Wilson, Martin Sheen, Vinessa Shaw, Wayne Knight, Jake Austin Walker, Jacob Lofland and Lane Garrison. It is rated PG-13 for violence, language, some suggestive references, smoking and brief teen drinking, and the run time is 1 hour, 58 minutes. Alex’s Grade: B. The film is in theatres June 18. 

‘I Carry You With Me’ – An Ambitious, Emotional Narrative

‘I Carry You With Me’ – An Ambitious, Emotional Narrative

By Alex McPherson

A soul-stirring examination of love, injustice, and the American Dream, director Heidi Ewing’s new film, “I Carry You With Me,” will stay with me for a long time to come.

Based on a true story, the film centers around Iván (Armando Espitia), an aspiring chef living in Puebla, Mexico, and barely making enough money to support his wife and young child. Iván is also gay and remains unable to freely express himself. While visiting a nightclub with his good-humored best friend, Sandra (Michelle Rodríguez), he meets a charismatic schoolteacher named Gerardo (Christian Vazquez). After spending the night together, the two fall passionately in love, yet their relationship is fraught with danger. It doesn’t take long before Iván’s wife finds out about Gerardo, and she promptly cuts Iván off from interacting with her or their son. Devastated and lacking opportunities for economic mobility, Iván decides to illegally cross the border into the U.S., then onto New York City, with hopes of a new beginning.

Veering elegantly between several timelines, “I Carry You with Me” presents a heartbreaking story of rebellion against prejudice. Ewing’s film urges viewers to treat those in similar situations with respect, dignity, and appreciation of the sacrifices they make in pursuit of a better life. 

Beginning with documentary footage of the real Iván riding the metro in NYC, the bulk of the film takes place through flashbacks that illuminate his story in an engrossing fashion — echoing his nostalgia for years gone by and fears for his uncertain future. Espitia powerfully conveys Iván’s internal conflicts, including regarding the legal consequences of being an undocumented immigrant, with a mournful air that sparks empathy from the moment we lay eyes on him. Vazquez delivers an effective performance, but it’s clear the film’s attention rests mainly on Iván’s character. Their bond is the film’s core, and Ewing emphasizes the difficulties of maintaining it in the face of biased, heteronormative standards.

Several sequences remind me of Barry Jenkins’ filmography in how the editing and camerawork evoke complex emotions in a manner that’s rarely pretentious, but deeply tender. “I Carry You With Me” is not an uplifting film by any means, but the film creates instances of beauty that radiate from the screen. Ewing proceeds to counter those moments in scenes that inspire anger, frustration, and sympathy for the lead characters — rendering fleeting moments of relief all the more poignant, and emphasizing the tragedy of what’s lost through existing in a world drenched in inequality. 

From its opening frames, “I Carry You With Me” has a strong sense of place, and Ewing’s documentarian background is on full display. The cluttered cityscapes and wide open rural prairies, often draped in darkness, visualize an environment equally overwhelming and restrictive — one which holds memories both joyous and tragic for our protagonists. Indeed, as the central romance blossoms, “I Carry You With Me” takes detours into both men’s childhoods, showcasing threats from their respective fathers to abandon their homosexuality. These well-acted sequences, though undeniably difficult to watch, underscore what’s at stake.

The concept of memory, in fact, plays a huge role in the film as a whole — especially when it switches to a more traditional documentary style in its last third — where we observe how Iván and Gerardo have been morphed by the past, retaining only pieces of their former selves as they make tough decisions in service of love and personal growth.

Although the nonlinear structure gives more attention to Iván than Gerardo, “I Carry You With Me” is an altogether impressive film, formulating a persuasive cry for justice for all human beings, regardless of sexual orientation or place of origin, with lyrical verve. While Ewing may be preaching to the choir, her film depicts lives whose stories are absolutely worth telling, and which should be carried in our hearts.

“I Carry You With Me” is a 2020 drama directed by Heidi Ewing and starring Armando Espitia and Christian Vasquez. It is rated R for language and brief nudity and runs 1 hour, 51 minutes. Alex’s Grade: A-. It is available in selected St. Louis theatres on July 2 and available virtually at the Tribeca Film Festival (Tribeca at Home through June 23).

Edgar Wright’s documentary on The Sparks Brothers Is a Sparkling Portrait

Edgar Wright’s documentary on The Sparks Brothers Is a Sparkling Portrait

By Alex McPherson
Whenever Edgar Wright releases a new film, my heart races with anticipation. After such classics as “Shaun of the Dead” and my all-time favorite, “Hot Fuzz,” I had high expectations for his new documentary about the difficult-to-describe pop band known as Sparks. The film, aptly titled “The Sparks Brothers,” isn’t as fine-tuned as his previous efforts, despite Wright’s stylistic touches and the likability of the subjects at its center.

“The Sparks Brothers” chronicles the rickety journey of brothers Ron and Russell Mael — two individuals passionate about staying true to their creative spirit, despite outside pressures. Growing up in Los Angeles with a love of music and French New Wave cinema, Ron and Russell were eager to make a name for themselves by walking paths less taken. As a result, their artistic “genius” — rammed into our heads by a huge group of interviewees, including Flea, “Weird Al” Yankovic, and Neil Gaiman — was often overlooked by record companies, nevertheless influencing a number of successful bands down the road. They have remained steadfast in their desire to create art, frequently layered with social commentary, that never panders to a given audience and remains beautifully unpredictable. Wright’s film, organizing their story by spotlighting specific songs from each of their 25 albums, aims to finally give them the recognition they merit.

An energetic, inspiring, yet overly glowing music documentary, “The Sparks Brothers” feels like a film made by Sparks fans for Sparks fans. Viewers previously unaware of the band, like myself, will likely leave the film with an urge to listen to some Sparks songs and not much else. Sure, perhaps Wright wasn’t aiming to “move” viewers, but when the two-hour mark rolls around, hearing the huge pool of interviewees gush about how much they love Sparks grows tiresome.

“The Sparks Brothers” is, thankfully, a much more self-aware documentary than most others I’ve seen, filled with Wright’s signature quick-cuts and sight gags that usually put a smile on my face. He incorporates archival footage, stop-motion animation, and staged reenactments to visualize anecdotes during Spark’s tumultuous history. For example, to complement discussion of Spark’s beginnings, we see shots of a colorful bird spreading its wings, and shots of doors being shut in people’s faces when they struggle to get signed. These moments don’t necessarily add poignancy to the proceedings, but their charm helps keep the film moving when the runtime threatens to derail my interest.

It doesn’t hurt that Ron and Russell are excellent interview subjects, each with a dry sense of humor that fits perfectly among the characters in Wright’s filmography. Russell, the more traditionally handsome, outgoing one, is effectively contrasted with Ron, who dons an Adolf Hitler/Charlie Chaplin mustache and retains stoic facial expressions. They seem inseparable, sticking together through challenges, even when they dip in popularity and end up abruptly abandoning those they collaborate with. While we don’t get an in-depth look at their personal lives or their songwriting process, their desire to create songs that challenge and entertain is admirable.

Anecdotes about mishaps onstage, their love lives, and unfortunate cinematic involvement are amusing, albeit not especially compelling from an outsider perspective. When specific songs and album covers are discussed, on the other hand, “The Sparks Brothers” is considerably more appealing. The surprising themes of “Tits” and the stylistic subversion of “Kimono My House” are enlightening. I wish “The Sparks Brothers” contained more of this deeper analysis, and spent less time on famous interviewees repeating themselves about how godlike the band is. A tight, 90-minute cut is in there somewhere, but two-hours-and-twenty-minutes is really pushing it. Maybe Wright’s excess matches those of the Mael brothers themselves, though, marking their big-screen treatment with the showmanship they deserve (at least until their new project alongside Adam Driver, Marion Cotillard, and French director Leos Carax releases later this year).

When the dust has settled, “The Sparks Brothers” feels somewhat superfluous, but remains passably engaging through to the end. Watching the film in two sittings could provide a more satisfying experience, but I’m eager to add Sparks to my playlists, so perhaps that’s good enough.

Sparks_By_Anna_Webber_9 c Ron Mael and Russell Mael star in Edgar Wright’s documentary THE SPARKS BROTHERS, a Focus Features release. Credit: Anna Webber / Focus Features

“The Sparks Brothers” is a 2021 documentary directed by Edgar Wright. It is Rated R for language and runs 2 hours, 15 minutes. Alex’s Grade: B-. The film is in theaters June 18.

    

‘Army of the Dead’ Is Zombie-Bashing Goodness

‘Army of the Dead’ Is Zombie-Bashing Goodness

By Alex McPherson

Zack Snyder’s “Army of the Dead” is a hugely enjoyable jaunt into undead splatterville.

After a military convoy transporting cargo from Area 51 collides with a distracted driver, a bloodthirsty brain-muncher is unleashed upon the population of Las Vegas. All hell breaks loose — visualized in an over-the-top montage involving strippers, Elvis impersonators and others being overpowered in slow motion while “Viva Las Vegas” plays on the soundtrack. Oh, there’s also a zombie tiger and two smarter “alpha” zombies leading a, well, army of the dead. 

The U.S. military tries to rescue as many survivors as possible, assisted by mercenaries Scott Ward (Dave Bautista), Maria Cruz (Ana de la Reguera), and Vanderohe (Omari Hardwick), a lover of buzzsaws and existential ponderings. They eventually contain the zombies within the city’s borders. The government establishes a ramshackle refugee camp immediately outside, and the President announces a plan to deploy a tactical nuke to eliminate the infected once and for all. 

Scott, reeling from a decision that fractured his relationship with his daughter, Kate (Ella Purnell), is relegated to flipping burgers at a bar outside Vegas, despite having received the Medal of Freedom for saving the Secretary of Defense. Soon enough, a sketchy businessman named Bly Tanaka (Hiroyuki Sanada) offers Scott an assignment to venture back inside Vegas to retrieve the contents of his casino’s safe, with the potential to get rich. Scott then recruits Maria, Vanderohe, a socially awkward safecracker named Dieter (Matthias Schweighöfer), a viral zombie-killing sensation named Mikey Guzman (Raúl Castillo), and a sardonic helicopter pilot named Marianne Peters (Tig Notaro, digitally replacing Chris D’Elia).

They are joined by Guzman’s pal, Chambers (Samantha Win), Bly’s crony, Martin (Garret Dillahunt), and “The Coyote,” (Nora Arnezeder), a badass individual who knows how to navigate the zombified horde. To complicate matters, Kate insists on rescuing her friend Geeta (Huma Qureshi), who entered Vegas to find funds to buy her escape from the refugee camp. Last and certainly least, an abusive security guard named Burt Cummings (Theo Rossi) tags along. Over-the-top fun ensues as the group attempts to grab the cash before they’re disemboweled or blown to smithereens.

Tig Notaro

Loud, unrestrained, and packed with cliches, “Army of the Dead” is perfectly satisfying as a summer action film, albeit one that shouldn’t be analyzed too closely. Indeed, for the most part, Snyder’s film embraces its goofiness — going all in on the gore and bombastic set pieces that any reasonable viewer should expect, while delivering the occasionally effective character moment and feeling about an hour too long.

Sure, “Army of the Dead” might not be doing anything particularly “new” for the genre, but the few additions Snyder adds are welcome, especially the aforementioned zombie hierarchy and intimidating feline. There’s little to criticize in the outrageously gory action sequences with on-the-nose musical accompaniments. During these moments, Snyder’s indulgent style absolutely shines, creating a symphony of carnage that’s glorious to behold.

The quieter scenes are less successful, but there’s still a few surprises to be found. “Army of the Dead” takes a while to get going, mostly due to the excess of characters of varying quality. Besides Scott, they’re each given barebones backstories that render them more as cartoonish caricatures than real people, and maybe that’s acceptable in this instance. I certainly wouldn’t want the film to be any longer — it’s two-and-a-half hours, for god’s sake — but having fewer characters could have strengthened the film’s pacing and given us more time to grow attached before they’re fighting for their lives. 

The film’s screenplay does elevate their charm, though, especially regarding the unlikely bond between Vanderohe and Dieter. Hardwick and Schweighöfer have excellent comedic chemistry, creating several amusing moments.  There’s plenty of cringeworthy lines scattered throughout, but the script has enough personality for me to care about (most) of the characters by the intense finale, overlooking some abrupt tonal shifts.

Only Scott is given much depth, but Bautista’s performance carries the film’s heart, lending the proceedings a human edge amid the bloodshed. Although I wish he was given more screen time and his storyline took more risks, there’s enough thematic meat to chew on. Bautista proves that he can deliver emotional lines with skill, as well as demolish ghoulish baddies with gusto.

All things considered, “Army of the Dead” is a messy, but nevertheless thrilling blockbuster. My criticisms don’t detract much from how entertained I was, and as a balm for our depressing times, it’s a meal worth feasting on.

“Army of the Dead” is a 2021 horror-action movie directed by Zack Snyder and starring Dave Bautista, Ella Purnell, . Rated R for strong bloody violence, gore and language throughout, some sexual content and brief nudity/graphic nudity, the film’s run time is 2 hours and 28 minutes. The movie is currently available in theaters and streaming on Netflix. Alex’s Rating: B