RECENT WATCHES: Terrifier 3 (2024)

After spending far too much time pondering on it, I think I understand the central thesis of the "Terrifier" films. If you grew up in the eighties and early nineties, you probably remember the moral panic around slasher movies. That they were pornographic displays of sadism, nothing but gore, vile and evil. You'd stand in the horror section of the video store, look at the box art, and imagine what grotesque images could possibly be contained on those tapes. This was all bullshit, of course, exaggeration by cultural critics who hadn't seen the films in question. No eighties slasher was truly that bad. With "Terrifer," Damien Leone set out to design a slasher franchise that is actually as disgusting and amoral as those mythical movies long described but never unearthed. Whether the resulting films have been good or not is another question altogether. I was middling on the first, begrudgingly admired some elements of the second. They are popular though, astonishingly so. Movies made entirely for the hardcore gore hound audience have instead become mainstream. "Terrifier 3" opened at number one at the box office this past October and quickly became the highest grossing unrated film of all time. This was simply unprecedented for a low budget horror flick that went into wide release without passing by the MPAA's delicate eyes. Whether you like them or not, you can't be a horror fan and ignore "Terrifier" anymore. This is Art the Clown's moment and he is our modern Jason Voorhees. 

Despite being released two weeks before Halloween, "Terrifier 3" is set at Christmas. After his previous massacre, Art the Clown's body retrieves the new head born from Victoria Hayes, his mutilated victim from the original film. She now follows him, possessed by a demonic spirit. Five years pass. Sienna Shaw, who defeated Art last time, leaves treatment, scarred mentally and physically. She lives with her Aunt Jess and Uncle Greg, as well as her beloved niece, Gabbie. It's the holidays but Sienna is still having visions of Art the Clown. She attempts to reconnect with her little brother, now in college, who simply wants to move on with his life. Art and Victoria awaken and resume their brutal killing spree, the murderous mime donning a Santa suit. It's not long before they are tracking Sienna down at her new home. She is not simply a random victim. She shares a destiny with Art the Clown and his evil envoy. 

As in the first two entries, "Terrifier 3" is as much show reel for its extravagant gore effects as it is anything else. The movie is filled, top to bottom, with graphic displays of dismemberment and torture. As also in the previous films, the violence is not exactly realistic, always looking like the elaborate prosthetics they are. Also true is that the murder scenes show a vicious sadism, focusing on the agony and terror Art's victims feel as their bodies are torn apart in horrific new ways. Liquid nitrogen assisted attacks, an extensive application of a chainsaw to an exposed body, and a complete disregard for the lives of young children are among the most vicious moments here. As always, Art the Clown treats the mayhem he reaps as a big joke while obviously delighting at the misery he causes, an approach the film rarely retreats from sharing. Similar to my reaction to the first two, it should be easy to dismiss "Terrifer 3" as nothing but edge lord nonsense designed to push buttons and bloodily waltz past standards of decency. However, Leone and his team do show a degree of skill. Obviously, the gore effects are elaborate and well done, sinew and bone torn asunder often with the eyes of the ruined victims still moving or their bodies still twitching. Beyond that, "Terrifier 3" builds notable feelings out of the anticipation of this sickening violence. Once Art the Clown shows up at a mall or a college dorm or comes down the chimney of an innocent family's home, you know it's going to be bad. He's going to do something terrible and waiting for the hammer – and axe and chainsaw and box cutter and glass tube full of rats – to come down fills you with a sickly form of tension. It's not suspense, because that is based on the uncertainty of the outcome. It's dread, as you know what's coming is going to be awful but it is, unavoidably, for sure, coming. 

Again, these are films clearly made to make the most jaded horror fan gasp. As some sort of rejoinder to the vaginal trauma of the first film – and the following, totally understandable accusations of misogyny – the male genitalia is giving a similar extended punishment. This follows a woman's breasts being sawed through, somewhat avoiding whatever point of fair game Leone is making. Art doesn't simply tear down symbols of wholesome Americana, like Santa Claus or holiday gatherings or the crucifix, he eviscerates them extensively. And what the fuck does any of it mean? What stance is "Terrifer 3" taking? It's not subversive, not really, as there's no readable motivation behind Art the Clown's murderous rampage. It is cruelty for cruelty's sake, which is acknowledged in universe by now. The only real stand the movie makes is against the grotesquely insensitive true crime industry, as one of Art's victims is a podcast co-host with no sense of boundaries or good taste. 

At the same time, it's difficult to dismiss the movie as nothing but a pornographic deluge of nauseating violence. Because – and this is the part that fucks with me the most – these movies actually do care about their characters. While not quite matching "Terrifier 2's" 138 minute runtime, the sequel still dedicates extensive time to Sienna's lingering trauma. Lauren LaVera gives a thoughtful, serious performance. Her relationship with Gabbie is sweet, multiple scenes devoted to showing their bond. Her parents, the college roommate, the random building excavators, and the drunken Santa Claus are all people, fleshed out to various degrees. In its predictably gruesome final act, Art's misshapen and far chattier sidekick holds Sienna down. She tells her that there's no hope, no love, no God, that nothing matters. However, Sienna keeps resisting. Which means there's a sense of good and evil to everything that happens here. As much as "Terrifier 3" revels in unending and meaningless cruelty and sadism, it's not a nihilistic film. If anything, it's about holding out hope in the intrinsic goodness of certain principles – namely, a humanistic belief in the power of love and community – against an utterly heartless and black-souled world designed to destroy and corrupt whatever sincerity you have left. Does that mean Art the Clown isn't merely an immortal sadist in a Halloween costume, the modern fascination with evil clowns taken to its most extreme level, but a symbol for depression, hopelessness, and everything else about the world that makes us want to give up? After his act of mass violence at a shopping mall – which resembles any number of acts of real world terrorism – Uncle Greg watches a news story about it on the TV and gasps. Life is full of horrors but the love of those we care about keeps us moving forward. 

Once again, these ideas coexist alongside what is basically 125 minutes of what a 14 year old boy you shouldn't leave alone with pets would imagine if you asked him to write down the sickest shit he could think of. What pisses me off about these movies is that Art the Clown is, by any definition, a despicable villain. He exists to do nothing but inflict horrendous violence on innocent people, entirely for his own sick amusement. That doesn't mean he's comparable to Jigsaw or Mick Taylor or Rob Zombie's Firefly brood or the faceless thrill seekers of the "Hostel" movies. The so-called "torture porn" of the 2000s pretended to have a sense of realism, of grittiness, with villains who were, if not grave symbols of their own missions, meant to realistically emulate real life killers. Art the Clown is a joke. He's an attempt to create a modern day Freddy Krueger or Chucky, a sarcastic smart-ass that we can root for in a sick way or at least find somewhat likable. That truly bugged me about "Terrifiers" 1 and 2 but... God forbid, I think the guy is winning me over. That's entirely because David Howard Thornton is so talented at expressing the silent Art's – dare I say – almost child-like glee at what he does. When faced with a massive puddle of blood after dismembering two victims, he does what comes naturally. After massacring a family on Christmas Eve, he eats the milk and cookies left out for Santa and washes the plate. He smirks with wicked satisfaction after gruesomely transforming a human being into a shattered Christmas decoration. While playing Santa or eavesdropping on soon-to-be victims' conversation, he vamps and mimes gloriously. The dude commits to the fucking bit. It is, I am ashamed to admit... Entertaining. What the fuck does that say about me? And everybody else that has turned this asshole into a Halloween decoration, an internet meme, an image on a T-shirt, and an action figure? And is it in any way different from doing the same to Freddy or Jason? 

I suppose what leaves me so conflicted about "Terrifier 3" is that it is, simultaneously, very dumb and trashy while obviously understanding the rules for creating compelling characters and effective suspense. Damien Leone's budgets have gotten bigger but I think his visual technique has backslid. Much of "Terrifier 3" is shot in medium close-ups with the characters talking exactly in the center of the frame. The more artistic moments – a close-up on a pill bottle, a homage to a famous shot from "Friday the 13th Part 3" – are short lived, nothing here to match the synthwave day-glo visuals of part two's funhouse finale. The mythology being built up around these characters, which takes precedence in the last third, isn't unlike something from an edgy nineties comic book. Exactly the kind of stuff Sienna's Dad – one of several Monster-Mania worthy guest stars – is shown to draw in a flashback. It's a story of angels and demons needing physical vessels here on Earth, battling for some fuckin' reason, right out of a "Spawn" or "Lady Death" issue. Fanfiction level stuff that I am, despite myself, slowly growing interested in. I've seen comparisons to what Don Coscarelli did with the later "Phantasm" films and it's not that cool or organic. However, a vision involving an infernal blacksmith hammering away at some holy armor while a living Madonna statue keeps it on a leash is worthy of a metal album cover. The film ends by blatantly setting up "Terrifer 4" and I guess I'm on the hook for that. 

Hopefully this review didn't come off as too pissy. Few films in recent memory has pushed me to such levels of "I hate this but I also kind of like this" as these. Is this what Roger Ebert felt when he gave "The Devil's Rejects" a thumbs up? Should I swallow my pride and admit that Art has charmed me? That I'm impressed by Damien Leone's gumption and belief in the horror fandom turning his micro-budget shock show into a proper blockbuster? Would I have made something very much like this as a teenager if someone gave me access to far more resources than I needed? Probably, and I guess that's what annoys me the most. I'm such an insufferable, self-hating nerd sometimes. Anyway, what the fuck is my point? I'm not sure. I think I talked myself into admitting I'm a fan of these movies now but I feel dirty about it. Merry Christmas, sickos. [7/10]

RECENT WATCHES: Sonic the Hedgehog 3 (2024)

I was fourteen years old when “Sonic Adventure 2” came out. This means I was right in the target demographic to find Shadow the Hedgehog appealing. In retrospect, it's tricky to overlook how calculated a character Shadow was. The “Sonic the Hedgehog” fandom was already full of original characters that were barely anymore than different colored versions of Sonic. This was an official character with almost the exact same gimmick... Except he was also an edgy antihero with a tragic backstory and a plethora of superpowers. In other words, Shadow the Hedgehog felt a lot like a cheesy original character except he was one hundred percent official. Ashamedly, this strategy worked exactly as planned. Shadow immediately became the second most popular character in the franchise, launching a hundred other O.C.s. When Sega gave him his own game, allowing him to shoot a gun and ride around on a motorcycle, it almost felt like self-parody. 

I wasn't above being caught by this. I too loved Shadow when he first debuted. However, at some point, I woke up to the blatant corporate manipulation at play here and turned on the character. However, Shadow has now been an established part of the “Sonic” universe for over two decades. I've long since made my peace with the character. I would go so far as to call myself a fan of Shadow the Hedgehog, when he's written well. However, how would the character be integrated into the cinematic “Sonic the Hedgehog” universe? That was the question on my mind as I sat down to watch “Sonic the Hedgehog 3,” somehow the third big budget theatrical adaptation of the beloved series. The latest sequel, and Shadow's much-hyped debut, has been well received by fans. What would I, an ever-shrewd old man, think of this?

Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles' peaceful lives with the Wachowski is interrupted again when G.U.N. specifically recruits the furry alien heroes. A black hedgehog from the same world as Sonic, but far more powerful, is on a rampage in Tokyo. Kept on ice by G.U.N. for fifty years, this Shadow has a grudge against the organization. He proves too powerful for Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles to defeat on their own. This leads them to forming an uneasy alliance with their greatest enemy, Dr. Robotnik. The new team soon are led to the secret base of Dr. Gerald Robotnik, the villain's grandfather and the scientist who studied Shadow fifty years ago. He recruits his grandson and Shadow into a plot to activate the Eclipse Cannon, a planet killing weapon he designed. Sonic races to stop villains new and old, the fight quickly getting personal. 

To utilize the inevitable pun, “Sonic the Hedgehog 3's” script hits the ground running. Within the opening minutes, we are being presented with Shadow's back story. Not long after that, Sonic and his friends are already dueling against the new threat. By the half-way point, we've already had alliance switches and betrayals and dramatic revelations, heroes teaming up with villains, villains teaming up with villains, and then breaking apart again. The movie breathlessly races from one plot point, and accompanying set piece, to the next. MacGuffins come and go, heroes chasing after access cards and the Master Emerald. The script looks like it's going to shove in the “Sonic Adventure 2” plot point of G.U.N. chasing Sonic before going in a wholly different direction, which then set-up dramatic heist and confrontations between the good guys. “Sonic the Hedgehog 3” rarely slows down, trying to squeeze as much into its 110 minute run time as possible. I guess this is what happens when you're attempting to tell a blockbuster worthy script but keep it within the runtime restraints of a traditional kid's flick.

Part of why “Sonic the Hedgehog 3” feels stuffed to the brims has to do with a problem that is often encountered in this franchise: There's a lot of characters here. In the returning column, we have Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Tom Wachowski, Maddie, Robotnik, Agent Stone, plus the Olive Garden guy and cameos for Wade Whipple, Maddie's sister, and the undercover G.U.N. Agent she nearly married in the last movie. To this already considerable cast, the film adds Shadow, Gerald Robotnik, Maria via the power of flashbacks, and Krysten Ritter as a new antagonistic G.U.N. commander. If the studio is going to pay recognizable actors like James Marsden and Ritter to be in the movie, it better give them things to do too. All of this must co-exist alongside the story of Shadow and Maria that the fans are truly here to see, as well as new additions these adaptations always feel the need to make. 

Part of why Hollywood struggled so long to adapt video games is because of the wildly different structural needs of both mediums. This has mostly been resolved by movies and games becoming a lot more like each other. The first two “Sonic” movies mostly invented their own narratives, drawing from the extensive back stories of the games, which probably was the best approach to take. “Sonic 3,” meanwhile, is the first movie to truly be adapted one of the game's plots, directly pulling a lot of ideas from “Sonic Adventure 2.” That doesn't mean only Shadow's backstory, as I expected. In the middle section of the film, both the good guys and villains seek access cards, the kind of fetch quest you'd fully expect from a video game. The sequel goes so far as to include the gravity switching gimmick that was so prominent in “Adventure 2's” later levels. One gets the impression that this is the movie Jeff Fowler and his team have really been wanting to make all along, rather than grafting bits and pieces of established “Sonic” elements on traditional kid movie set-ups. 

Fidelity to the source material is a lot less important to me than honoring the characters as we know them. The “Sonic” cinematic universe has increasingly revolved around the idea of family. Sonic finding his new family with the Wachowski defined the first movie, while the second was about him learning responsibility when faced with a sidekick that looked up to him and an equally powerful rival. Family continues to be a heavily touted theme, the script emphasizing Sonic's connection to Tom and how it compares to Shadow being treated his whole life as a science experiment. Robotnik ends up aligning with Gerald largely because his similar want for a bloodline. However, that is secondary to the theme the movie flatly states again and again: “Making good decisions,” as Tom puts it, especially when the world constantly tries to break your heart with its overwhelming awfulness. In other words: Shadow and Sonic both have great power but only one of them has learned great responsibility from a father figure. 

While this is the kind of easily grasped themes and ideas you'd expect from a kid's movie, repeated enough times for the little ones to pick up on it, I do think “Sonic the Hedgehog 3” actually pays proper tribute to its emotional center. The sequel is seriously invested in Shadow the Hedgehog, particularly how the loss of Maria weighs on him. A surprising amount of time is devoted to establishing Shadow and Maria's relationship, via lengthy flashbacks. Though hassled with the franchise's continued obvious soundtrack picks – why is a scene in the seventies featuring a Traveling Wilburies song? – these moments are genuinely adorable. When Maria is inevitably killed, the pain Shadow feels is sincere. As sarcastic as these films get, the emotional stakes remain one hundred percent serious. I didn't expect a “Sonic the Hedgehog” movie to feature a touching depiction of overcoming grief and learning to live beyond that heartache but here we are. 

When it was announced Keanu Reeves was cast as the voice of Shadow the Hedgehog, people got excited. This struck me as a little odd. I know Keanu is a beloved pop culture icon these days and I love the guy too. He's not truly a voice actor though, “Toy Story 4” aside. Much like Idris Elba as Knuckles, I can definitely feel some of that awkwardness coming through Reeves' performance. However, Keanu manages to find the heart of the character before the film is over. Ben Schwartz' take on Sonic is well established by now, the actor even getting a chance to stretch his dramatic legs a bit in this installment. I do wish Elba as Knuckles and Colleen O'Shaughnessey weren't increasingly sidelined by the story though, another side effect of the film having so many characters in it.

Following “Sonic the Hedgehog 2,” Jim Carrey announced his retirement and the character's fate in that film seemed potentially final, should the star really not come back. Well, Carrey loves money enough to return for part three, as both Robotnik and his grandfather. This means we get a double-dose of Carrey's manic comedy. The make-up effects that transform him into the 100 year old Gerald are good. In general, the illusion of one actor playing two characters that often interact is pulled off successfully. While Carrey's clownery is amusing, there are multiple moments when his buffoonery becomes difficult to sanction. A dance sequence among security laser or the increasingly nutty finale feel like moments when the star's chaotic energy take over the movie, to its detriment. Robotnik also gets a genuine character arc and I'm not sure Carrey is able to pull it off in-between all his extended mugging. 

Another reason “Sonic 3” feels a little overstuffed is because it has to make room for its human co-stars. Tom and Maddie get a sequence devoted to themselves, in which they sneak into a G.U.N. building in London. It is an inessential sequence, to say the least. Ritter, a decent actress, is given very little to work with as Rockwell. She's simply another obstacle for the heroes to run around. In general, the tension between what the fans most want to see – Sonic and his friends doing stuff – and the need for these films to be live action family-friendly comedy continue to make these unsteady affairs. Except for Lee Majdoub's agent Stone, whose role as Robotnik's loyal sidekick has expanded naturally into a full-on homoerotic will-they-or-won't-they? Majdoub and Carrey's banter continues to be a highlight of these movies.

My continued suspicion that these films would be a lot better if they were entirely animated is furthered by the last act. That's when “Sonic 3” becomes a colorfully directed action flick, the CGI hedgehogs blasting around the world and into outer space with enough verve to outclass some recent, bigger budget superhero flicks. The film also makes sure to get a prominent song on the soundtrack, once again suggesting that Fowler knew exactly what kind of fan service he had to include. I have a lot less investment in “Sonic Adventure 2's” plot than most but it was nice to see a “Sonic” movie truly push the limits of what its hero can do on-screen.

That evident desire to give people exactly what they want continues into the inevitable sequel baiting mid-credits scene. The “Sonic the Hedgehog” movies continue to exist in a bizarre space between special effects driven spectacles and goofy kid movies full of wacky comedy. The compromise agreed upon to make these movies possible continue to stick out badly. If I had seen this during the peak of my teenage Shadow fever, I probably would have loved it. “Sonic the hedgehog 3” feels like a movie primarily made for those people. The older I get, the more ambivalence I have towards franchises existing primarily to appease fans and activate nostalgia-driven dopamine rushes... From a simple factor of loyalty to the source material and on-screen flash, “Sonic 3” is easily the best entry in the series. How I'll feel about it in the future remains to be seen. But at least it beat the "Lion King" prequel at the box office... [7/10]

RECENT WATCHES: Kraven: The Hunter (2024)

When it comes to the topic of Spider-Man's rogue gallery, I'll admit to being a fan of Kraven the Hunter. Perhaps owing to reading "The Most Dangerous Game" at an impressionable age, a big game hunter that gets bored with people and starts hunting people is a cool idea for an antagonist. Much like the Predator and the other descendents of General Zaroff, Kraven had a code of honor of sorts, often seeking to hunt only prey equal to himself. The character has a long and convoluted history in the comics too, being a founding member of the Sinister Six, dying in the classic "Kraven's Last Hunt," having numerous off-springs and successors, and finally brought back to life. As established as the character might be, the idea of building an entire movie around him seemed foolhardy. I don't care about Kraven's origins that much. I want to see him fight Spider-Man! This did not stop Sony from choosing Kraven as the fourth character to get a spin-off movie in their Spider-Man Adjacent Cinematic Universe. After the fiascos of "Morbius" and "Madame Web," it was hard to anticipate "Kraven: The Hunter" with anything but a seasick sort of morbid curiosity. Surely, how can it be any more misguided than those two? The time has arrived for me to find out. 

The film presents Sergei Kravenoff as the son of Russian crime boss Nikolai Kravenoff. He often protects his meeker brother, Dimitri, who has an uncanny ability to mimic voices. As a teenager, Sergei was nearly killed by a lion on the African savanna. A young woman named Calypso gave him a potion to save his life, which also granted him the strength, agility, and senses of the jungle's animals. Disgusted with his father's business, Sergei uses his powers to hunt and kill mobsters and poachers. After assassinating a mob boss named Chorney in prison, Kraven opens up a power void in the criminal underworld. A would-be leader named Aleksei – with a bizarre genetic condition – seeks to fill that void. The Kravenoff brothers and Calypso are soon drawn into a web of betrayal and revenge. 

The idea of a movie starring Kraven the Hunter and pointedly not featuring Spider-Man remains an odd one, fueled by Sony's corporate greed and hubris. However, director J.D. Chandor – previously of well-regarded films like "All is Lost" and "A Most Violent Year" – at least finds a decent hook for the character. The "Kraven" movie basically has the elevator pitch of "What if Tarzan was also John Wick?" Kraven uses the strength of a lion, the speed of a cheetah, the agility of a monkey, the eyesight of an eagle and his bond with all wild animals to violently rip apart a litany of generic bad guys. Kraven also disregards guns as an unfair advantage, utilizing crossbows, all sorts of bladed instruments, and even his own teeth to dispatch his opponents. When focused on lengthy action scenes, devoted to this hyper-violent antihero slashing through an army of goons, "Kraven: The Hunter" actually becomes mildly entertaining. This peeks during a mid-film sequence where Kraven fills the woods with all sorts of brutal booby traps for his pursuers. This sequence, alongside the repeated references to what an unstoppable bad-ass this guy is supposed to be, brought the mindless action fests of the eighties to mind. There's a lot of "Rambo" in this movie's messy bloodstream, alongside a little James Bond and the aforementioned Wickian/Tarzanian influence. 

Much like those gloriously campy murder-fests, in which musclebound heroes decimate whole armies, "Kraven: The Hunter" is also very, very silly. The film's constant need to remind us that Sergei has animal-like superpowers result in multiple, borderline hilarious scenes of him running on all-fours, scaling buildings with his bare hands, and peering into the distance with "Manimal" eyes. This silly streak climaxes during a sequence where Kraven avoids detection from some bad guys by... Lurking behind them and moving away whenever they turn around. That ridiculous atmosphere is further supported by hammy performances from Russell Crowe, as the Kravenoff's brothers' bad dad, and Alessandro Nivola as the Rhino. Crowe gets to partake in his favorite activity of speaking in a goofy accent and intoning on manhood, honor, and business. Nivola, meanwhile, plays Aleksei as a ruthless but neurotic nerd who is barely managing to contain his homicidal rage. A scene where he shrieks with a raspy groan in frustration is another highlight. 

The script is equal parts convoluted and obvious. Tarot cards, magical herbs, sci-fi gene splicing, and hypnotic powers weave in and out of a loose plot of gangsters doing gangster shit. I still don't know what the hell the Rhino's goal was exactly and Kraven is treated, contradictorily, as both a legendary myth and a well-known public figure. The story between the brothers and their toxic father is leading towards an inevitable and highly predictable betrayal. Any comic fan worth his salt knows that Kraven's brother is shapeshifting villain the Chameleon and the movie belabors that reveal as long as possible. This represent the film's desperate, sweaty need to tease – and subsequently underuse – other elements of its comic book source material. Ariana DeBose is largely wasted as Calypso, another villain in the comics reduced to a generic love interest here. That Aleksei transforms into a CGI rhino monster in the last act is also an inevitable event the film holds off on as long as possible. Further nods to the source material are here. D-lister Spidey villain the Foreigner is also here. Mad scientist Miles Warren/the Jackal is an oft-referenced but off-screen presence. A link to Spider-Man appears in an especially contrived manner. Mere minutes before the end, Kraven dons his trademark lion face vest, the movie going out on the thought that merely pointing at stuff from the source material is the same as featuring it. 

What of Kraven himself though? Does the film manage to turn a Spider-Man villain into a compelling hero in his own right? Not really! "Kraven" represents the latest attempt by Hollywood to turn Aaron Taylor Johnson into a bankable star. (Not to mention his third superhero role.) Once again, Johnson's generic good looks cover up an unlikable, high school jock-like confidence. This is displayed multiple times, during a number of ill-conceived comedic scenes. Honestly, Johnson is alright as a one-man army, a Jason Voorhees type slashing through his enemies. As a figure of macho toughness and lady-charming charisma, he falls totally flat. This guy just doesn't have that skill set in his toolbox. He's also so roided out that he walks like a baby with a full diaper, lacking the kind of action hero physicality absolutely essential for a role like this. In other words, Johnson might have made a decent villain but, as a ruthless hero whose code of honor is endlessly emphasized, he doesn't work. 

My main thought coming away from "Kraven: The Hunter" is that... If this has been made in 1989 for a fraction of the money and starred someone like Van Damme or Dolph Lundgren, I probably would've liked it a lot. It has that mean spirited violence and that gleeful sense of dumbness. Instead, the film is held back by a wooden leading man and a mishmash of attempts to make this a superhero blockbuster, part of a loose shared universe, but also a reluctance to fully embrace that comic book setting. The result is a mildly entertaining action flick that simply never comes together, either too silly or not silly enough. This film's box office underperformance has supposedly scuttled Sony's plans for a Spider-Man-free Spider-Man Cinematic Universe, a terrible idea that never should have gotten to the point of six movies... Unless they change their mind and reboot it all. So it goes. [6/10]

RECENT WATCHES: Venom: The Last Dance (2024)

I know I say this every time the topic comes up but it truly bears repeating: Sony's decision to build a cinematic universe around their half of the Spider-Man character rights – which excludes the use of Spider-Man himself – has got to be one of the most legendarily bad ideas that Hollywood has spawned in the last decade. This extremely executive-brained premise has, for the most part, gone exactly how you'd expect. It turns out, the world was not clamoring for movies starring the vampire that fights Spider-Man sometimes and the origin story of the co-worker of his uncle. However, there has been one major exception to this on-its-face awful idea for a franchise. The "Venom" movies were successful. Some have tried to argue that they were good too. The relative box office popularity of "Venom" and "Venom: Let There Be Carnage" continued to fuel Sony's delusional thought that Spider-Man Movies Without Spider-Man In Them were a smart investment. Tom Hardy's apparent enthusiasm for the character has also kept this series moving forward. Nothing lasts forever though. The unlikeliness of Spider-Man's ooziest archenemy fueling one movie, much less two, surely dawned on someone. Thus, the choice was made to cap this series as a trilogy last October. "Venom: The Last Dance" announced its finality in that subtitle, in so much as any of these superhero universes are allowed to end. 

Following the events of "Let There Be Carnage" – which, I'll admit, I remember very little about – Eddie Broke and his symbiote buddy are fugitives wanted by the law. A top secret government task force, based in the secret-ier lab underneath Area 51, are on their trail. Hard-ass military professional Rex Strickland only wants to eliminate the symbiote threat while Dr. Teddy Paine hopes to study them, including the several specimens already in captivity in the lab. That's not the only thing after Eddie and Venom though. The primordial darkness God and creator of the Symbiotes known as Knull is imprisoned on the alien's home world. He seems a special codex that Venom carries, which can set him free. The only way to destroy the codex is for Venom or his host to die. Knull sends a horde of monsters known as Xenophages after the duo, who now have multiple forces after them as they attempt to make it to New York City. 

This we mustn't forget: The "Venom" movies have always been bad. Perhaps that's an overstatement but the previous two entries had deeply uninteresting screenplays, awkward action scenes, usually underwritten supporting characters, and weak villains. "The Last Dance" sees series screenwriter/nepo baby Kelly Marcel promoted to the director's chair. What this largely means is that the esteemed adapter of "Fifty Shades of Grey" and "Saving Mr. Banks" can clearly be seen taking full control of the "Venom" universe. While being a half-assed version of the popular "King in Black" story arc, "The Last Dance" has a plot mostly made up of stupid bullshit. Dr. Paine's backstory is dumped on us via an awkward flashback/dream sequence. The plot introduces multiple elements with grave importance – a role for the comic character Toxin, Eddie taking a life, an omniscient secret observer watching everything – before forgetting about them a few scenes later. That the thrust of the story is based around some universe threatening MacGuffin, one of the hoariest clichés of would-be blockbusters, is a good example of its creative bankruptcy. It has a villain who sits around in a chair in space, imprisoned but massively powerful, who does nothing but brood ominously. Absurd plot devices, such as a big tank of sulfuric acid, are gratuitously introduced with as much prominence as possible, to make clear that they will be important later. Venom makes it clear that he can't fully transform without alerting the Xenophages before doing it anyway. An utter head-scratcher of a scene has the slimy alien monster appearing to save Brock in a way I don't think is possible. In other words, "Venom: The Last Dance" has a cobbled together story that is beholden to hacky clichés, tiresome foreshadowing, and generally can't be bother to respect the audience's intelligence. 

Kelly Marcel's parents are the director of "Hawk the Slayer" and the star of a long-running BBC drama. She's also good friends with Tom Hardy, explaining her involvement with this series. What she definitely isn't is a competent action director. "The Last Dance" is shockingly visually incoherent at times. Action scenes often become hard to follow thanks to the choppy editing. A shot of Venom kicking a slot machine – which looked fine in the trailer! – is rendered awkward thanks to the spasmodic editing. This is, perhaps, the fault. of editor Mark Sanger. His previous credits include some bad James Bond movies, some bad Tim Burton movies, a bad Transformers movie, and inexplicably two of Alfonso Cuaron's best works. This is paired with often murky cinematographers from Fabian Wagner, who has mostly worked on television. Film is a collaborative medium and something looking like shit is result of many hands. However, Marcel still probably deserves blame for the film's utterly goofy conceptions of what a cool action scene is. We've got soldiers dangling from a helicopter for some reason, a hard-to-follow scuffle in a raging river, an improbable battle atop a passenger jet, and the less-than-serious sight of Venom cruising around on a motorcycle. It's all shows a deeply miscalculated understanding of what is cinematic and what looks striking. Unsurprisingly, "Venom: The Last Dance's" climax is a flurry of CGI slime monsters and explosions, the kind of rapid fire action filmmaking that leaves the viewer utterly numb. 

Some may take me eviscerating "Venom 3" for having a garbage story and shitty visuals as a surefire sign that I am a stuck-up, humorless dweeb. Which probably isn't wrong. However, let the record show that, there are several stretches where "The Last Dance" tricked me into believing it was a good time at the movies. As with the previous two entries, this is entirely thanks to two factors: Tom Hardy's compellingly weird leading man energy and the willingness to play Eddie Brock and Venom's relationship for goofy laughs. Broke spends the first act of the film drunk and most of the rest of it hungover, surely a decision that was Hardy's idea. The star's commitment to playing this guy as an awkward loser is shown in the repeated humiliations he suffers, from getting peed on, repeatedly thrashed about by his alien friend, and wandering the desert in goofy cowboy boots. Hardy eventually concedes to the expected star charm, putting on a tux and barking orders during the destruction filled climax. However, he still carries the movie upon his broad shoulders for most of the runtime. He certainly has no help from the apathetic supporting cast, which includes a visibly confused Juno Temple and Chiwetel Ejiofor phoning it in harder than he's ever phoned it in before. 

As for Brock and the symbiote's homoerotic brolationship, the scenes focused on that represent "The Last Dance" at its most entertaining. Far from the corrupting influence and single-minded sociopath of the comics, the symbiote's cinematic counterpart is a source of wacky comic relief. He possesses a horse, the moment the sequel most embraces its silly, Saturday morning cartoon feeling. A shouted-along participation in a David Bowie sing-along or an inspired dance number to ABBA, all much to Hardy's annoyance, are scenes of goofy, chaotic fun. These films have, in spite of their weak writing, managed to get the audience attached to Eddie's attachment to Venom. The attempt at playing their bond for pathos is ridiculous... And it almost works, entirely thanks to the investment Hardy has put into imbuing his misfit hero and his oozy boyfriend with humor and eccentricity. The result is an overly sentimental final scene, which is as hokey as it seems. However, on the rare times the sequel puts aside its doofus storytelling and visual incoherence, I did laugh and enjoy myself. A slapstick heavy buddy comedy is hiding within this lumbering, preposterous attempt at a blockbuster. 

Despite the superhero bubble popping so hard in the last year and change that a number of should've-been surefire hits have plummeted, it would seem that audiences remain hooked on Eddie Brock's weirdo bond with a strangely attractive goo monster. "The Last Dance" has continued this series' run of doing so much better at the box office than anticipated. This means surely that two, related events will follow: Despite the sense of finality etched into every frame of "The Last Dance," we'll probably see Venom on movie screens again soon enough. This also means that Sony execs will likely continue to delude themselves into thinking there is a demand for a Spider-Man-free Spider-Man Cinematic Universe. God help us all. Tom Hardy's charisma and an off-kilter sense of humor about itself is ultimately not enough to save "Venom: The Last Dance" from being tedious big budget sludge. [5/10]

Director Report Card: Neveldine/Taylor (2024)

8. Hellboy: The Crooked Man

Directed by Brian Taylor

Within the world of comic book, Mike Mignola's “Hellboy” comics are beloved for their highly stylized, heavily shadowed artwork and pulp influenced writing. Comics remain an insular world, Mignola's “Hellboy” stories belonging to an even more niche circle of characters outside the iconic worlds of DC Comics and Marvel Comics. When Guillermo del Toro adapted the books into two films in the 2000s, the character and his world became much more of a beloved cult classic. However, while the del Toro “Hellboy” films are adored among a certain audience, neither were massive blockbusters on the scale of “The Dark Knight” or “Spider-Man.” Del Toro, Ron Perlman, and the fan wanted a conclusion to this trilogy... But studios were indifferent. Moreover, it seemed Mignola and del Toro had a falling out of sorts. This began a long journey to make another “Hellboy” movie but not del Toro's “Hellboy III.” 

The motion picture that eventually emerged from this development was Neil Marshell's 2019 “Hellboy” reboot, starring David Harbour. And nobody liked it. Critics absolutely slammed it, the box office receipts were not stellar, and nearly every review expressed much more interest in seeing a third film with Ron Perlman over this. Only four years passed before rights-holder Millennium Media – still best known, in my mind anyway, for “The Expendables” movies and action movies of much lesser prestige – announced another reboot. An actor nobody had heard of was cast as Hellboy. Brian Taylor, ostensibly the more respected half of the Neveldine/Taylor duo that still hadn't made a movie in seven years, was hired to direct. Filming took place in Bulgaria, where Millennium Media shoots a lot of low budget schlock. Early reports repeatedly emphasized that this was going to be a grittier, more horror-centric take on the character. The exact same promise that was made about the previous reboot. 

In other words, every piece of news that came out about this new “Hellboy” reeked of cheapness and desperation, of some producers trying to squeeze a little more blood out of this brimstone. That impression wasn't dismissed once images, posters, and trailers started to crop up, each one making the film look more like it was designed for television than theaters. The idea that “Hellboy: The Crooked Man” – as the reboot was entitled – was the cheap, cash-in, straight-to-video “Hellboy” movie occurred to many. That prophecy was fulfilled when the negative buzz around the film had distributors pulling “The Crooked Man” from theaters a few weeks before it was scheduled to come out and instead sent it to video-on-demand. Now that the movies has been out a while, the few people who have watched it seem to like it even less than the previous reboot. As a fan of Mignola and sometimes Taylor's work, it's time for me to weigh in on whether this new “Hellboy” is worthwhile. 

Perhaps to further distinguish itself from previous “Hellboy” movies, “The Crooked Man” is set in 1959. Hellboy, that half-human and half-defender paranormal investigator for the B.P.R.D., is travelling via train through the Appalachian Mountains. His companion is Bobbie Jo Song, a new B.P.R.D. Agent eager to get out into the field. The strong evil presence in the valley causes their cargo – an accursed, giant spider – to go berserk. Hellboy and Song crash out of the train car and find themselves in the poor communities of the area. They soon come across a bewitched young man. This leads them on a quest into the local witchcraft community. Teaming up with a young soldier named Tom Ferrell, they cross a witch named Effie Kolb and a demonic entity known as the Crooked Man.

The “Hellboy” comics are definitely darker than the most well known cinematic adaptations of the character. Mignola's work draws extensively from world mythology, usually pulling threats and plot points from obscure folklore from all over. By making its setting in Appalachia – a corner of the globe I have some familiarity with – “The Crooked Man” explores concepts from folk magik. Witch balls are plot points, the ingredients to make one explained in one scene. We see a witch crawl into her abandoned skin, not unlike the Boo Hag of Carolina lore. Mason jars full of creepy bugs, zombies in abandoned church yards, and underground tunnels full of hostile spirits all put in appearances. In other words, “Hellboy: The Crooked Man” falls soundly into the subgenre we now know as folk horror, a premise Mignola's work has always been in discussion with. 

Another question is more pressing though. Does “The Crooked Man” successfully move the “Hellboy” film series into horror? Del Toro's film were more on the side of dark fantasy, while the previous reboot leaned on edgy, metal album cover imagery. “The Crooked Man” is certainly attempting to created scares. Ominous figures emerge from the darkness. As you'd expect, the titular villain is depicted as a creaking, cackling corpse. A notable sequence has Hellboy doing battle with a horde of zombies in a spooky church. The reboot has some visceral imagery up its sleeve, such as a cackling witch ascending up into the treetops, crows pecking someone's eyes out, or a snake emerging from, well, a very sensitive part of someone's anatomy. The atmosphere is more on the foreboding side here, invoking something closer to a seventies Hammer movie than a comic book blockbuster. The make-up effects used to bring the ghouls and creeps to life are, it must be said, decent too. 

Not that any of it is scary. I mean, most horror movies aren't. That the protagonist of this movie is a nearly indestructible demon child goes a long way towards draining any thrills. It's hard to build tension when you know that your hero won't be seriously hurt. At one point, Hellboy shrugs off getting run through with some iron fence posts. Moreover, Taylor and his team can't inject any of these scenarios, no matter how transgressive they might be, with any sort of dread or foreboding. Sequences, such as Hellboy being tossed through the air or the evil forces closing in on the heroes, are too flatly presented to generate much thrills. It certainly doesn't help that, in general, “Hellboy: The Crooked Man” is too fucking dark. I mean that literally. Like far too many movies this day, it's seriously underlit and a number of scenes are hard to follow on account of being so badly illuminated. Maybe this was an attempt to replicate Mignola's black ink heavy artwork but it backfires.

Since the Neveldine/Taylor partnership has been dissolved for a while now, both having made several movies as solo acts now, a few things have become clear. First off, the over-the-top and willfully offensive comedy that energized the “Crank” films seems to have mostly come from Neveldine's side of the collaboration. Brian Taylor, meanwhile, seems to be the one largely responsible for the distinctive, feet-on-the-ground visual approach of those movies. You can see a little bit of that in “The Crooked Man.” The opening titles occur suddenly on-screen, over some shots of the foggy, desolate landscapes. Bulgaria isn't not a perfect one-to-one duplicate of Appalachia but, if nothing else, it does provide a distinctive ambiance all its own. Moreover, you can see some of the frenetic camera work and editing here. Only in a few scenes and the film could stand to be a lot more distinctive. 

Unfortunately, it's very clear why “The Crooked Man” is both so darkly lit and so visually underwhelming. Wikipedia lists the film as having a 20 million dollar budget which is, in the scope of modern Hollywood blockbuster filmmaking, a pittance. This is reflected in the limited settings for the film. A large portion of “The Crooked Man” takes place in that spooky church, underground tunnels, nondescript cabins, or a – admittedly decent looking – dilapidated mansion. Mostly interior sets that could be cheaply assembled. The action scenes are modest, with little of the computer generated flash and bang we expect from a superhero flick. This is probably a good thing, as the CGI that is in the film is... Underwhelming. The opening scuffle Hellboy has with a giant spider is not the most convincing, the enormous arachnid rarely seeming to occupy the same plain of existence as the red-skinned hero. A large snake that shows up later looks faker. The more of “The Crooked Man” I watched, the more I began to suspect that the reboot emphasized the horror angle of the material because it was a lot cheaper to bring to life than elaborate action scenes. 

A clear lack of funds and an inability to generate much thrills from its assortment of horrors is not the only thing keeping this “Hellboy” from being better. An actor named Jack Kesy dons the blunted horns and Right Hand of Doom, who seems mostly known for television and supporting roles in bigger movies. Kesy, admittedly, does an okay job of embodying the blue collar sensibilities of Hellboy as a character. He groans the character's catchphrase of “Ah crap” with the right level of designation. If nothing else, Kesy is an improvement over David Harbour's petulant, angsty teenage boy take on the character in the previous reboot.. However, Kesy still stands in the shadow of Ron Perlman's pitch perfect Hellboy. In fact, from the inflection of his voice to his burly body language, Kesy seems to be directly emulating Perlman. “The Crooked Man” was doomed to remind viewers of better, earlier movies but a star who can't make the protagonist his own makes that all that more glaring.

Ultimately, “The Crooked Man's” plot seems a bit unfocused and meandering at times too. The script does not do a great job of tying its various subplots together. This is very clear in the detours it makes towards explaining Hellboy's origins. Throughout the film, the demonic hero is haunted by visions of his witch mother, who underwent a horrible sacrifice to bring him into his world. If Kesy is decent when grumbling as Hellboy in the face of danger, his performance flounders into melodramatics when trying to wring pathos out of the material. In fact, the scenes devoted to this subplot drag horribly. There's a thematic thread in “The Crooked Man” about sin and guilt, which these moments are obviously playing off of, but the film struggles to make us care about them.

Previous “Hellboy” movies also built up a lovable supporting cast, from lovesick fishman Abe Sapian to pyrokinetic Liz Sherman. Much like the previous reboot, “The Crooked Man” lacks both of these characters. The cast members it introduces to compensate simply aren't as compelling. Adeline Rudolph makes for a decent enough foil for Kesy's Hellboy to bounce off of. However, the script's attempts to build some pathos around her backstory – done via another awkward flashback – is never convincing. In fact, all the new characters would probably be a lot more interesting if the film didn't devote so much time to setting up their origins. Jefferson White as Tom Ferrell and Joseph Marcell as the blind Reverend aren't giving bad performances. The script simply mistakes exposition for development. The further into “The Crooked Man” we got, the more I was forced to conclude that I simply wasn't that invested in any of these characters.

I can certainly understand why so many people are deriding “The Crooked Man” so much. The film can't defeat the impression that it was quickly and cheaply rushed into production before an option or something expired. Trying to move “Hellboy” more into a horror direction isn't a bad idea. At times, when focused on its hero smacking zombies away, it actually almost works. In a more forgiving film, I could even see Kesy's take on Hellboy growing on me. However, much like the Marshall/Harbour reboot, “Hellboy: The Crooked Man” simply can't overcome a seemingly insurmountable expectations: I'd rather by watching del Toro's “Hellboy III.” Mignola co-wrote this script and it's probably more faithful to the source material than previous adaptations. It also can't recaptured the unique charm of the earlier, better movies. It is less obnoxious than the other “Hellboy” though. I'll give it that much but falls to much the same failings, in that it stands unimpressively in the shadows of the Hellboys that came before. [Grade: C]

Director Report Card: Neveldine/Taylor (2022)

7. Panama

Directed by Mark Neveldine

In 2021, Vulture published an article delving into the somewhat sketchy business dealings of producer Randall Emmett. Emmett built a mini-empire of low-budget, direct-to-VOD action movies in which washed-up stars of old get top-billing for appearing in a handful of scenes, while generic theatrics starring much cheaper actors happen around them. The article would provide an extremely useful name for this style of movie, which has somehow proliferated over the last decade: The geezer teaser. You get a geezer, film enough scenes with him to qualify as a “teaser,” stick his name above the title and his face on the DVD box, and fill the rest of the 90 minutes out with whatever. It's a classic exploitation movie model that, despite the death of video stores and Redbox, has proliferated. The incredibly depressing last ten years of Bruce Willis' career was made up almost entirely of these kind of movies, for only the most prominent example. 

Considering his horribly racist antics have slowly made him hard to hire for big budget productions, it's no surprise that Mel Gibson would find steady work in this niche. In 2022, Mel would lent his fading star power to five such films. They have generic names like “Hot Seat,” “Agent Game,” “Bandit,” or “On the Line” and not a single soul alive can recall actually watching any of them. Rarely are the filmmakers behind these strictly mercenary productions any one especially notable. There are exceptions though. Mark Neveldine, half of the ostensibly talented team that brought us the “Crank” movies, would take a paycheck making one of these in 2022. And that is why I'm talking about “Panama,” sure to be among the least notable motion pictures I will ever write about. 

As the title suggests, “Panama” is set in 1989, right before the United States' invasion of the titular country. Retired bad-ass Becker is drinking away his grief over a dead wife. An old co-worker named Stark approaches him with an employment opportunity. Becker is hired by the CIA to go undercover in Central America. He is to infiltrate the local casino and drug trafficking business to help purchase a helicopter for Contra rebels in a scheme designed to assassinate Panamanian dictator Manuel Noriega. Becker soon gets in over his head, making friends and enemies, falling in love with a beautiful woman named Camila, and becoming sympathetic to those fighting against the military regime. 

By some extraordinary circumstances, “Panama” was not produced by Randall Emmett. His movies are usually distributed by Liongates. This one was put out by Saban Films – yes, the “Power Rangers” guys – who have also had a hand in plenty of movies like this. Despite no association with the King of the Geezer Teasers, “Panama” still checks off all the boxes to qualify. Gibson's face takes up the most room on the poster, his name above the title, despite having maybe ten minutes of screen time throughout the film. Mostly in the beginning and end, with a couple of scenes of him talking on the phone peppered throughout. Instead, a lumbering Cole Hauser is the actual star of the movie. There's an abundant amount of female nudity, plenty of sex, lots of guns, and a moderate amount of explosions and shoot-outs. One of the CIA guys we see at the start of the movie turns out to be a bad guy at the end. It's all extremely routine.

One can't help but assume that films of this type are primarily rented, bought, and watched by the most non-discerning of audiences. By which I mean old guys. The geezer teaser is designed to appeal to exactly the kind of facile macho wish fulfilment fantasies of its ideal viewer. “Taken” is the bigger budget predecessor to the entire genre, a movie specifically design to appeal to dads looking to re-establish their masculine powers despite being well into the second half of their lives. Fittingly, the hero of “Panama” is a semi-retired tough guy who is wracked with guilt over the death of a wife, having crawled into a bottle to cope. His adventure here takes him to an exotic land where he gets to show that he's still a bad-ass and hop into bed with another beautiful woman, while still nebulously seeking revenge for the death of his first wife. The very first scene even includes Gibson, in voiceover, describing what a certified action hero this guy is and how kicking ass and taking names for the U.S. of A. is the best feeling in the world. 

In other words, “Panama” is lowest common denominator stuff, designed to thrill and titillate only the most bored of customers. Despite that obvious goal, the film has a surprisingly convoluted plot. One might even call it needlessly convoluted. The story involves our hero making deals, manipulating, back-stabbing, and bossing around a number of shady drug lords, rebel types, and high rollers. I'll admit, I lost track of the story almost immediately. “Panama” works through a plethora of subplots and supporting characters as it winds through its glacially paced 95 minute runtime. Faces come and go, often getting shot, but not a one of them make an impression, much less what purpose they serve in this meandering narrative.

That's the dirty secret of the geezer teaser. Well, the other one, after the obvious fact that the washed-up action icon promised on the Netflix thumbnail won't actually do that much. No, despite ostensibly luring the audience in with action movie cheap thrills, these movies are frequently uneventful. Still, within the realm of this underachieving subgenre, “Panama” is an especially egregious example. An overwhelmingly large percentage of this motion picture is made up of people sitting around in rooms and talking. Becker talks to rebel leaders in underground bunkers. He talks to drug kingpins in their hotel rooms, by the pool, on their balconies. He makes deals at the casino, answer phone calls in bed and on the couch. For a film that promises big action, “Panama” mostly delivers a lot of sitting around and talking it out. 

Why this is the case is not too difficult to discern. Obviously, “Panama” is mostly dudes sitting in rooms because that's a whole lot cheaper to do than actual action scenes. That cheapness radiates off this entire production. There are many signs throughout that very little money was available here. Every time a gun fire, a cheap-looking CGI muzzle flair is utilized. The characters outright reference “Welcome to the Jungle” by Guns 'n' Roses before instead playing a generic piece of rock music, cause this movie had nowhere near the funds to licenses a well known song. The most hilariously cheap sequence in the film arrives when Becker is challenged to a dirt bike race by the secondary antagonist. What follows is a messy montage of close-ups of the actual actors on bikes, wearing helmets, and quite clearly barely moving cut together with far-off shots of stuntmen on the same bikes doing all the actual racing. To further sell this half-assed illusion, there are several shots in which the camera was mounted to the side of the bike... Meaning the riders' asses are right in our faces. A bold cinematic choice there, let me tell ya. 

The handful of times “Panama” actually does attempt to function as an action movie are equally underwhelmed. A shoot-out between Contra rebels and government backed enforcers is haphazardly edited, to the point of near incoherence. Mel Gibson does actually appear to kick a dude in one scene. At 66 years old, Mel was still a more convincing action figure than Cole Hauser. Burly, somewhat doughy Hauser shuffles like an arthritic sasquatch through a handful of fight scenes. The most embarrassing of which is a very slow foot chase down a flight of stairs, the filmmakers desperately attempting to make this mundane scene look exciting through a rapid fire succession of edits. When that doesn't work – which it never does – the film leans on some shaky, handheld camera instead. 

While it's hard to read that last factoid as a positive measure, it is one of the few signs that half of the team who made “Crank” was responsible for this movie. Mark Neveldine's visual style has always featured gritty, frantic camera work. Aside from that, the Neveldine/Taylor style can be spotted briefly a few other times. Military insurgents playing their machine guns as if they are guitars, while epic riffs play on the radio and shooting at bad guys, is the kind of over-the-top, self-consciously ridiculous macho thing you'd expect from these guys. The irreverent and edgy dialogue is also apparent in Gibson's voiceover narration, which often feels like tossed-off one-liners Mel recorded during a lunch break. Also, a minor character has the middle name of “Fagoth,” the sort of willfully offensive comedy that crops up in the more Tromatastic moments of the directors' work.

Other than that, it feels like any old hack could've directed “Panama.” The film also includes plenty of the leering sexism that cropped up in the “Crank” flicks and “Gamer.” Not that this is unique to Mark Neveldine. However, even by the standards of low budget action movies, “Panama” shows a startling disregard for women. The sex and nudity is excessive, with Hauser's primary love interest existing mostly to writhe around naked atop him while he awkwardly lays there. The drug kingpin character is always surrounded by half-naked or fully naked concubines. At one point, he presents a woman's crotch to our hero and says it is the source of all power. If that wasn't glaringly sexist enough, every female character in the movie exists to either die and provide a tragic motivation for the hero, be sexualized, captured, nag at him, or all of the above. If the film didn't suck so bad, casual misogyny of this level would almost be kind of impressive. 

Somehow, reducing every woman in this story to bitches, whores, or corpses is not the most offensive thing about “Panama.” The movie invoking the U.S. imperialism in Central America of the late eighties almost could get a pass, as some sort of ironic statement about Uncle Sam's action during this time. Instead, the script seems quite sincere in treating the interloping CIA agents as the good guys. Far worse is how the film invokes the abuse and war crimes that occurred during Noriega's reign. Hauser wanders through a refugee camp filled with dismembered and crippled men, women, and children. At one point, hideous sexual violence committed by the soldiers is referenced. Why put these scenes in your disposable action movie? Was this an attempt to add some gravitas to the material? Or another one of the Neveldine/Taylor provocations? Either way, it surely sticks out, moving the film from merely tacky to utterly tasteless. 

More honestly, these gross elements feel like the result more of a clueless lack-of-effort than a genuine attempt to offend. When not being funny in its cheapness or questionable in its politics, “Panama” is mostly extremely boring. The film easily feels twice as long as its modest hour-and-a-half runtime, going on past several logical end points. It is very sad that a filmmaker who once could be counted on for hyperactive, outrageous subversions of standard action tropes would end up doing a movie so totally lacking in drive, originality, or a sense of purpose as this. “Panama” might not be the worst movie I've reviewed. It might be among the laziest though, an aggressively tedious and pointless experience whose appeals to puerile interest can't awaken the viewer from the stupor it puts them in. [Grade: F]

Director Report Card: Alexandre Aja (2024)

10. Never Let Go

Somehow, it has been more than twenty years since the term “The Splat Pack” was coined. It referred to a loosely connected group of filmmakers making gory horror movies around the turn of the millennium. The likes of James Wan and James Gunn have become immensely successful, both within the genre and outside. Others, like Eli Roth and Rob Zombie, still put out a new movie every once in a while. Most of them never quite broke through with the mainstream and have largely stuck to the indie scene, like Neil Marshall and Greg McLean. Alexandre Aja, being European, has always been slightly apart from the others. He has obviously done very well for himself, with "Crawl" being his last big hit, even if his later work has perhaps not lived up to the promise of "Haute Tension" and "The Hills Have Eyes." A lot of his work continues to slip through the cracks though Aja came back this year with “Never Let Go,” which was mostly lost in the constant shuffle of new movies coming and going from theaters. I'm the thorough type so it's time to see if this one is a hidden gem or rightfully overlooked. 

Deep in the forest, young brothers Samuel and Nolan live with their mother. Their entire lives, Momma has told them that the world was destroyed by a great Evil. That this force worms its way into your body and possesses you with a single touch. The family, and their dog, live in a cabin made of blessed wood. The only way they can protect themselves when outside the cabin is by holding onto a rope that connects them to the house. As their food supplies run out and their mother announced they'll have to eat the family dog to survive, Nolan becomes increasingly skeptical about the existence of the Evil. Sam remains a true believer, however. The brothers' disagreement over the beliefs they grew up with will only grow more intense as their situation gets increasingly desperate. 

The world of fiction has presented us with a thousand different takes on the premise of people forced to survive in a post-apocalyptic world. Too often, the genre is worn down to survivalist fantasies about being free to run amok in a world without society's rules or getting to rebuild a "better" world than the one that exists now. "Never Let Go," at the very least, defies either of these trite set-ups. Instead, this is a film very clearly about how surviving in the world after the fall of polite society would definitely suck. The family survives on a meager garden. When a rough winter renders that useless, they turn to eating bugs and tree bark. When mom threatens to kill and cook their dog, she is planning to cannibalize only the fourth other living thing these boys have other known. The actors look emaciated and sunken eyed, a good depiction of individuals on the brink of starvation. "Never Let Go" is not a doomsday prepper's wish fulfilment fantasy. This is a harsh existence for these characters and not one to envy. 

As we've seen a thousand stories about surviving after the end of the world, that means we've seen a thousand different ways to end the world. "Never Let Go" does manage to find a somewhat novel approach to this idea as well. Zombies, disease, environmental or economic collapse, nuclear war or alien invasions are all avoided. Instead, the outside threat that has seemingly ended society as we know it is supernatural. The nature of this Evil is kept vague throughout. It can manifest hallucinations of dead loved ones and strangers in order to belittle or tempt the survivors. (It reminds me a lot of the First Evil from "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," though slightly more offensive.) This brings a clear religious connotation to mind, of demonic forces luring the righteous off the blessed path, though this idea also isn't expanded on too much. It's something different, I'll say. "Contagion-like demonic force" is a new one I can add to my list of possible ways the world can end.

The real reason why "Never Let Go" doesn't expand more on the origins of its demonic force is simple: That movie isn't truly about that. Instead, the film represents Alexandre Aja trying his hand at another well-worn, if less popular these days, style: The Southern Gothic story. It is never specified where this story takes place. Judging from the accent Halle Berry adapts at Momma, we can assume it's somewhere in the American South. The thick trees of the surrounding forest, with its willowy branches and entangling vines, suggests rural Alabama or the less swampy parts of Louisiana. (The movie, of course, like so many low budget genre films, was shot in Canada.) Wherever the story takes place, the isolation the characters live with clearly connect it to the Southern Gothic tradition. The sins of the past, regrets, familial anxiety, religious fanaticism, all out in a dilapidated country home besieged by outside forces and colored by distinct accents: Yes, we are for sure in Tennessee Williams country here. 

Whether "Never Let Go" is a good example of a Southern Gothic story is much more debatable. It makes good use of its desolate, isolated setting. However, the more blatant attempts to capture a particularly "Southern" feel comes off as a bit campy. The modern horror cliché of an old song, played on a rickety viola, eventually being subverted for creepy ambiance is used. The song this time is "Big Rock Candy Mountain," another choice that feels more goofy than scary to me while also overemphasizing the deep south setting. The film is structured like a novel, with on-screen chapter breaks, which gives the impression that this is an adaptation of regional novel. It's not. Kevin Coughlin and Ryan Grassby wrote the script on-spec, under the title "Mother Land." Mostly, the accents the actor adopt – Halle Berry especially – feel very put-on and cartoonish to me. In other words, this does not feel like a story influenced by actually living in the American South but more movies and books set in that region. 

Despite some flaws, "Never Let Go" does do some things well. Like the best science fiction or horror stories, it roots its fantastical premise in an emotion all of us can understand. Nolan and Samuel are growing up. Nolan is at the age where he's beginning to question whether his mother truly does know everything about the world. He's testing boundaries, developing an independent mind, and setting out on his own. Which is made especially dangerous thanks to the very specific circumstances he lives in. Forced to hold onto a rope that always connects you back to your mother, and the womb-like home you share, is some not so subtle umbilical cord symbolism. When Nolan cuts the rope, he frees himself but also terrified a mother that believes she must cling to her babies to protect them. It's not a bad metaphor for trying to break free of a smothering parent, and make your own life. 

The boys' mother is, from any perspective, abusive. She makes her sons prayer to the house and its holy wood every night. She often tossed them into an underground cellar and forces them to stay there, until they've pushed any influence the Evil might have on their minds out. Despite these extreme methods, the simple fact remains that the boys still love their mother. Samuel, on the other hand, begins to hear the Evil whispering in his ear too. Divorced of its fantastical content, this is the story of a mentally ill parent that has passed her condition onto one child, while the other struggles to correlate how someone he loves, who genuinely loves him, has treated him so badly. Its climax is one of acceptance and love, in spite of these flaws. In a genre landscape where "elevated" horror films foreground their metaphors to the point of practically excluding the scary stuff, "Never Let Go" must be commended for being the slightest bit subtle about this. 

Unlike a lot of the would-be Jordan Peeles or Robert Eggers out there, Alexandre Aja is definitely not afraid of making a horror movie. In some ways, "Never Let Go" harkens back to the kind of films the director got his start with: Gory throwbacks to seventies and eighties horror. The film's cabin setting, story of demonic possession, and central role for a trap door brings a clear influence to mind. This is Aja paying homage to "The Evil Dead." When the rotting, bile spewing spectre of the boy's grandmother appears and begins to bleat like a goat, you definitely feel the Raimi influence. Sometimes, this works well too. The finale features some stylized camera angles and brutally edited attack scenes, recalling Aja's best work. A scene where a little girl becomes a contorting, multi-limbed human centipede is, ya know, a clever visual. There's some good spurting blood too. Unfortunately, "Never Let Go" does not maintain those frantic thrills throughout. In fact, quite a lot of scenes involving screeching, twitching undead visions strike me as more silly than scary. Sometimes a horror director makes a swing and it ends up on the wrong end of the absurd/unsettling chasm. 

The moment Nolan begins to doubt his mother's version of events, "Never Let Go" presents a clear question to the audience: Was the Earth genuinely brought to its knees by a malevolent, supernatural force or is Momma simply insane, imagining it all and wrapping her sons up in her delusions? That nearly the entire movie is set within the cabin and the surrounding wood certainly leaves things open to interpretation, as we never see the rest of the world. Narrative structures like this can be tricky. On one hand, if you can weave ambiguity like this into the themes of your story, it can make for a very rich experience. Alternatively, if you fumble it, the result is a script that tries way too hard to deceive and mislead the viewer to almost always underwhelming results. There's one moment in "Never Let Go" that keeps the audience guessing in the best way. The boys are alone at the house and a hiker approaches them, asking if they need help. Nolan wants to accept the man's offer and get out of there. Sam is convinced he's a manifestation of the Evil, pointing a crossbow at him. This is a genuinely tense moment, the viewer uncertain which of the brothers is right, either decision having dire consequences.

A better film could have kept that question lingering in the air longer, leaving us increasingly unsure of what is actually happening in such ways as to up the suspense. Instead, the script spoils its own ambiguity by showing us what is actually happening here. In the ever-more frustrating last third, the script then repeatedly backtracks on what exactly the truth is. "Never Let Go" wants its cake and to eat it too. Or, rather, wants to add some psychological complexity to its setting while still providing the monster movie thrills the audience wants. The film continues this flip-flopping right up to the final second, making me roll my eyes hard right before the credits roll. Put some convictions behind your premise and respect the audience's intelligence rather than tying your own story in knots to prove how clever you are. 

Tempting as it is to dismiss "Never Let Go" as another disappointing half-assed measure from a once promising director, I do think Alexandre Aja and his team were working very hard to make a good movie here. Aja's regular cinematographer, Maxime Alexandre, does handsome work. He makes the forest look properly foreboding. Fog and the extremely green foliage adds a lot of depth to each frame, presenting the idea that anything could be out there nicely. French electric artist rob also collaborates with Aja again, creating a decent score that knows when to ramp up the ominous strings and doesn't lean too hard on the increasingly worn-out synthwave sound. The cast does decent work. Despite that wavering, unsure accent, I do think Halle Berry adds some complexity to the role of the mother, showing her fear and uncertainty but also a warmth and love. Percy Daggs IV and Anthony B. Jenkins, as Nolan and Samuel, give sturdy performance. Daggs does especially well, more-or-less carrying the movie on his own in the second half, allowing the boy to come off as both brave and frightened. Jenkins doesn't get to express quite as much depth but he, at least, avoids the obnoxious clichés of the creepy kid subgenre. There's also a neat looking monster in the finale, which appears to have been made entirely through practical make-up. 

This makes a certain conclusion unavoidable: "Never Let Go" is most let down by its script and its willingness to find one version of the truth and stick with it. Aja probably could've made the movie scarier and a number of other aesthetic choices might have been improved but, with a stronger script, other flaws would have been more easily overlooked. Still, this is a better movie than the similarly divided "Horns" and "The 9th Life of Louis Drax," while also probably proving more memorable than "Oxygen" was. I don't know if Aja will ever make pulp as gloriously messed-up and beautifully engineered as his best movies but he's clearly still has some fight in him. If only he could select better screenplays to work on... "Never Let Go" is well done in many respects and has intriguing ideas but its unwillingness to be genuinely ambiguous, instead of keeping back and forth between different conclusions, keeps it from being a lot stronger. [Grade: B-]