Director: David Cronenberg

Writer: David Cronenberg

Stars: Viggo Mortensen, Léa Seydoux, Kristen Stewart

Synopsis: Humans adapt to a synthetic environment, with new transformations and mutations. With his partner Caprice, Saul Tenser, celebrity performance artist, publicly showcases the metamorphosis of his organs in avant-garde performances.

Everybody has their favorite directors at different stages of their lives, but for me, my number one pick has stayed the same: David Cronenberg. I grew up watching horror films; I was entranced with them ever since I was little, watching some of the 80s genre classics with my family. When I started exploring the vast world of horror by myself later on, I found Mr. Cronenberg’s work, and my life hasn’t been the same since. Like many, my introduction to his filmography was his 1986 hit, The Fly, in which I saw some of the best practical effects and makeup I have ever seen, and to this day, I haven’t seen many films that have surpassed it. There are also plenty of examples of astonishing and wince-inducing effects that still hold up (everything in Videodrome, the veins and classic head explosions in Scanners, the hallucinogenic creatures and typewriters in Naked Lunch, just to name a few). 

Although he may be known as “the king of body horror,” which he definitely is (with his almost “protege” Julia Ducournau stepping in as the queen), that isn’t all he’s known for. Each film of his has an articulate message that intertwines with one of his favorable themes: the physical manifestation of psychological trauma, the distinction between morality and immorality, or the relationship between the social and the individual. Whether it has a shock factor or not, there are nuanced points of intricacy that express harrowing experiences with profoundness and grace. You can say that there are two halves to his body of work – one haunts the body (Shivers or Crash), the other, the mind (A History of Violence or A Dangerous Method), which have been the emphasis in his latter features and are equally impressive. Nonetheless, Cronenberg is back with a new film, his first since the 2014 Hollywood lifestyle satire Maps to the Stars, that’s being sold as his return to his provocatively engrossing and richly philosophical nature of the 70s and 80s: Crimes of the Future. 

If that title sounds familiar, it is because he already has a 1970 feature named with this exact title. While that can be described as a Cronenberg test drive (the film where he started to implement some provocative and instigating concepts but was afraid to expand upon them), this is more of an expression of his collected skill sets throughout the years, albeit specifically from his work around the 80s and 90s. This is viewed in different forms (direction, thematic, visual, and narrative). There’s this aspect of “connoisseurs” of a rancid type of eroticism, which was expanded upon in Crash with the lustful breadth of car crashes, as well as the romanticism that inhabits several of his features (a hidden love story of some sort). In this case, it revolves around watching underground, avant-garde arrangements of organ metamorphosis and mutations by performance artists. “Long live the new flesh” was the Videodrome expression that set the course for the modern auteurs of horror cinema. There’s a possibility that Crimes of the Future’s new passage, “surgery is the new sex,” will plant seeds for the next generation of upcoming filmmakers to rise and break the molds of exploration within ghastliness and desire. 

Crimes is set in a futuristic world, where not only is there high technological advancement, but people’s bodies are changing to a high extreme due to the faux environment. Is there a post-human evolutionary stage amidst them all? That’s what everyone seems to believe, especially when they see such avant-garde and squirm-inducing art pieces by Saul Tenser (Viggo Mortensen) and his partner Caprice (Léa Seydoux) in which they do surgery and tattoos on internal organs to a deferent audience. Tenser has a strange yet intriguing ability; he can grow new internal organs. This causes people to rethink the body’s possibilities and the broader exploration of tactility within such circumstances. These newly grown innards have no explicit function, but it is undoubtedly seen with high interest. Some want to shed light on this mutation, investigating it with a close eye. Since most people have evolved to the point where there isn’t a sensation of pain, they are interested in how far they can go with witnessing such acts. 

This creates a parallel with the critically-divisive Crash, in which people attended car crash simulations, or the character themselves caused the crashes in order to pursue a sexual climax. With this comes the instantly-quotable “surgery is the new sex.” In that world, sex and surgery are equivalent to one another since the lack of pain makes people explore what’s on the inside rather than on the outside, both figuratively and literally. Although the people attending these performances aren’t experiencing the acts themselves, it creates a sense of pleasure and sensual fulfillment – seeing the penetration from the surgical tools and pondering about how it might feel. In a way, the arrangements are the equivalent of pornography for them. One of the National Organ Registry investigators following them is Timlin (Kristen Stewart), whose obsessive behavior slowly changes the course of the path of Tenser and Caprice. There’s more to the story, but explaining further on would be a crime of its own. 

During the 75th Cannes Film Festival Q&A, David Cronenberg said that it is a coincidence that there are some thematic and narrative resemblances with some of his past work. And it is evident as you keep analyzing the film as the days go by. It alludes to the past while aiming for a new future; it’s not a return to form, but it is the visualization of a man motivated once again to dwell in the bowels of the expansive body horror genre that he harbored and forged. Another evident theme is the interconnection and differences between erotic violence and damaging ardor, and these are expanded upon in Videodrome, Dead Ringers, and Crash. Between those lines, there’s the aspect of what shapes and affects us. Cronenberg wants us, the audience, to think about these conceptions and question whether pain is the critical factor to pleasure or what we would do for satisfaction. Here, the world is very different, and the characters have found an exaggerated way to reach those levels of seductive fulfillment. Is something growing within helping us unwind and develop into something new? If it isn’t, will it curse that untried generation and torment it like a cancer? 

These assertions are all over his filmography in one way or another, but here it takes a more extensive enhancement. Should we succumb to these changes our bodies are making or resist them? Tenser is questioning that himself as he quotes: “I don’t like what’s happening with the body, which is why I keep cutting it up.” There’s much to inspect and study in Crimes of the Future, even if parts of the visual narrative might leave a bit more to be desired. As I have read elsewhere, I would have loved a grand operation finale, as it was teased through similar parts of the runtime, but I think it is for the better. It doesn’t need to exaggerate the conclusion just because it is body horror; the ideas implemented during the film are worth digesting on their own. One thing that might change a person’s viewing experience is if they indulge in the promotion. It isn’t as gory or provocative as it was initially sold as (even though Cronenberg did get his walkouts at the Cannes premiere in the first five minutes). Of course, like most of his features, it has its moments that will provoke audiences, yet Crimes of the Future is more restrained than one might have anticipated. 

It’s not a shock factor carnival ride. Instead, there’s a plot-heavier sensibility to the narrative; plenty of conversations that represent the idea of how people interact in that day and age (props to Cronenberg for his spectacular world-building). Within these interactions, you see jealousy and rivalry between performance artists and “lovers”, whispered relations of investigative relations, among others. However, this movie’s problem is that we don’t see the effect of this “new flesh” on that civilization outside of our leading trio. Nevertheless, it sets the correct atmosphere of unease and the element of the viewer exploring this world for the first time, thanks to cinematographer Douglas Koch and composer Howard Shore – who doesn’t miss when it comes to his collaborations with the Canadian auteur. The actors go all-in with whatever the director has on the table regarding the performances. Mortensen is always an intriguing lead, primarily when he’s collaborating with Cronenberg – they have a Scorsese and Deniro type of cinematic bond. But Léa Seydoux steals several, if not most, scenes from him. Seydoux is one of the most entrancing actresses working today, which further enhances her acting abilities, as her character is somewhat the opposite of what Viggo has to offer. 

While one brings on the darkness in the imagery, the other shines with radiance, giving a spark of humanity and elegance, even in the weirdest circumstances. That’s another aspect where Cronenberg excels; in the oddest of situations and acts, he still makes time for the characters to feel human and not just like other beings from outer space. On the other hand, Kristen Stewart goes on a more whispered and quirky side of acting, and it totally works, in my opinion. She doesn’t get to do much as a whole, but her overall presence adds to the various concepts and pictorial ventures. In the end, Crimes of the Future will be divisive, as expected from Cronenberg. Some will go with it while others won’t. Nevertheless, this was my most anticipated film of the year, and it didn’t disappoint. My favorite director still strives as one of the best in the genre. And although it doesn’t match up to Julia Ducournau’s work (Titane and Raw, which is my favorite film of all time), it presents some fascinating ideas about how we see the changes in our bodies, violence within the realms of eroticism (and vice versa), and the introspection of pleasure in a world without pain. Long live the new flesh, where the body is reality, both blood curdling and stimulating. Thank you, David Cronenberg!

Grade: A

Director: Joseph Kosisnski

Writer: Ehren Kruger, Eric Warren Singer, and Christopher McQuarrie

Stars: Tom Cruise, Jennifer Connelly, and Miles Teller

Synopsis: After more than 30 years of service as one of the Navy’s top aviators, Pete Mitchell is where he belongs, pushing the envelope as a courageous test pilot and dodging the advancement in rank that would ground him.

“This Movie has been 36 years in the making.” – Tom Cruise

These were the words that came before the Early Access IMAX Premier screening. These words have been the mantra for this film. Since Infinity War was playing in theaters, it’s been advertised and had two years of pandemic theatrical release delays. And now, it is finally here. And I can confidently say that it has entered the Danger Zone. 

The 40 year sequel has become a craft unto itself in recent years. From Blade Runner 2049 to Star Wars: The Force Awakens, there has been a rush of nostalgia for the late 70s/early 80s in the late 2010s. Even pop music has skewed towards that nostalgia with Dua Lipa’s “Future Nostalgia” and The Weeknds “After Hours.” Top Gun: Maverick is the latest in this trend, but its approach to nostalgia feels unlike any other film to date. It’s the only 40 year sequel to keep the same lead actor from the first film. And it’s a film that doesn’t look to superficial 80s elements to remind us of the past. 

Rather, Top Gun: Maverick uses its visual style and stuntwork to be the most 80s movie of the bunch. Cinematographer Claudio Miranda uses every moment to accentuate the emotions of characters through the picture. Lens flares, blooming, and highly saturated colors are employed expertly to achieve this goal, and that technical flair feels deeply reminiscent of 80s action cinema. The film is staggeringly beautiful at every level, from its mind-blowing action set pieces to the smallest of intimate moments. 

And those intimate moments are what shine through this summer blast. By blending nostalgia and intimacy, Top Gun: Maverick manages to be more sincere than its predecessor. Screenwriters Ehren Kruger, Eric Warren Singer, and Christopher McQuarrie all show a love and admiration for the first film while laying the groundwork to deepen the character relationships often ignored. Penny, a previously mentioned character in the first film, is introduced with agency and emotional depth and it marks a major step up when compared to the first film’s shallowly written love interest, Charlie, played by Kelly McGillis. Val Kilmer is expertly integrated into the film, in spite of his lost voice after a throat cancer surgery in 2015. Maverick’s own character arc is given emotional weight as he is forced to change over the course of all 131 minutes of the film. 

But it’s not just the old character relationships that have been expanded. The new cast all have their own journeys through the film, which gives weight to Maverick’s teaching. Rooster, Phoenix, Hangman, and Bob are just a few of the new aviators who undergo major changes in the film. Amelia, Penny’s daughter, packs an emotional haymaker in her small role. It’s that care and delicacy that allows Top Gun: Maverick to be more than just a summer blockbuster. 

And all of this is only possible thanks to the work of director Joseph Kosinski and his dedicated crew. Every single element is firing on all cylinders; from the score to the performances, and the editing. Kosinski’s all-in attitude towards action is mirrored in the small scenes; nothing feels out of place or treated as lesser. Even the smallest exchanges between Rooster and Hangman are given as much importance as the big setpieces. Kosinski holds on shots to make awkward scenes funny, and funny scenes lonely. These are examples of the stellar direction that keeps everything deeply personal, in both the big and small moments.

Adding to this are the performances that Kosinski gets, which are all impeccable. Regardless of how small the role is, there is a good performance on display. Tom Cruise continues to exude that boyish charm from the first film, but here it is with an added melancholy that makes this one of his best performances of the past decade. Jennifer Connelly, playing Penny Benjamin, manages to feel familiar in spite of her not being a part of the first film. Miles Teller is phenomenal as Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, being instantly charismatic and emotionally isolated through fantastic facial acting. And Glen Powell’s work as Hangman is truly electric, being both infinitely charming and arrogant in every sequence. These larger roles are matched by the supporting cast, comprised of Jon Hamm, Val Kilmer, Bashir Salahuddin, Charles Parnell, Monica Barbaro, Lewis Pullman, and Lyliana Wray. Each actor and actress bring in the sincerity needed for this love letter to Top Gun, and it’s fascinating. 

Perhaps it’s all of this sincerity that brings out the one weakness present in the film: Maverick may be placed front and center, but the other characters also have arcs that would be worth exploring. Hangman, Bob, Phoenix, and Rooster all have arcs that we see the results of, but the film needed to spend a little more time in the middle putting this process front and center. Penny and Maverick fall in love over a handful of scenes, and it’s beautiful… but I want more. I don’t know if it is fair to ask for more from a film that is so lovingly crafted and paced brilliantly to be the best thrill ride of the summer, but those extra characters really could have used some extra screen time to really show the impact of Maverick’s teaching. 

But aside from that, Top Gun: Maverick will take your breath away. The sound design and mix are truly breathtaking. From the low rumble of an engine to the rushing air, this film truly puts you in the cockpit alongside these aviators. This is a film that is worth the IMAX experience because its sound quality is unlike anything since Ford V. Ferrari. It’s propulsive, loud, powerful, and beautiful. This works in tandem with the film’s editing, which accentuates every beat of the story perfectly. Dogfights feel faster and more kinetic than ever before; and on the ground, Maverick’s loneliness is pitch clear.

All of these elements come together to form one of the biggest third acts in recent cinema. The tension is ratcheted all the way to eleven, the stakes are crystal clear, and the audience cares for each and every pilot. Every decision the characters make matters, and the film captures these maneuvers in real life. It wouldn’t be a Tom Cruise production without it, and that very real, very dangerous approach to stuntwork and setpieces put Top Gun: Maverick at the top of its class. The third act is constantly evolving, with call backs to this film, and will hold you at the edge of your seat. This is a flight worth taking this summer and sets the bar for every other blockbuster that follows it. 

Score: A-

Director: Akiva Schaffer 

Writer: Dan Gregor & Doug Mand

Stars: John Mulaney, Andy Samberg, KiKi Layne, Will Arnett

Synopsis: Thirty years after their popular television show ended, chipmunks Chip and Dale live very different lives. When a cast member from the original series mysteriously disappears, the pair must reunite to save their friend.

I’ll get this out of the way: without The Lonely Island at the helm, Chip ‘n Dale: Rescue Rangers might have been one of the worst IP-driven pieces of content ever made. I feel there’s nothing more egregious than having pre-existing Intellectual Properties inside a movie that doesn’t warrant it just for the audience to point at things they know. The worst scene in Free Guy had two sub-Disney IPs shoved in a two-minute “moment” (plus a cameo to signal the audience that, yes, the movie is in on the joke), but had no emotional connection to anything happening in the actual movie. 

There are lots of IPs in Chip ‘n Dale—perhaps too many. There are times when it doesn’t work, but these moments are so few and far between that I was actually surprised at how many times I was in stitches during the entire movie, whether it was from the weirdest cameos possible, or from the incredible chemistry John Mulaney and Andy Samberg have as our titular characters. If someone else, say, Shawn Levy, was at the helm of this, it likely wouldn’t have been as funny, and as visually exciting as what director Akiva Schaffer and cinematographer Larry Fong bring to the table here. 

Fong is a strange pick for director of photography, having previously worked on Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice, Watchmen, Kong: Skull Island, and The Predator. But you can clearly see why Schaffer picked him as a cinematographer when the action scenes start to happen; there’s real geography (and color!) inside each and every frame. Fong knows where to place his animated and live-action characters for maximum visual effect, and whenever they interact with one another, everything feels so seamless to the audience, and fun to see such interaction inside the film’s meta-world. 

And it’s a damn shame that this movie wasn’t released in theaters. It’s rare nowadays to see a family film with such creativity, both in front and behind the camera, so it would’ve really benefited from the theatrical experience. Such a special movie doesn’t deserve to be put on streaming, especially when it’s the closest thing this generation will get to Who Framed Roger Rabbit? Of course, it doesn’t reach the same levels as Robert Zemeckis’ movie, but it is one heck of a fun time at the movies and seeing it on a TV screen feels criminal for a movie that celebrates the best that the Rescue Rangers show has to offer, inside a modern, extremely meta-setting that will produce big laughs for small kids, who will enjoy Chip ‘n Dale’s antics, as well as for adults who will understand most of the references the movie throws at them.

I believe that’s part of the reason why I enjoyed the movie so much: the adult jokes are funnier than the kid ones, but the movie deftly balances both types of humor in such a way that everyone will laugh at anything they want to. The movie is brimming with so much creativity that it’s hard not to laugh at some of the wildest cameos you’ll see all year. But even without them, the movie is a complete riot, because it retains the carefree spirit of the original Rescue Rangers TV series. 

A huge grin was on my face when we first see Chip and Dale meeting together again, as Monterey Jack (Eric Bana) seeks help, with Chip (Mulaney) being hand-drawn, while Dale (Samberg) is in full 3D. The animation effects are great, with the movie constantly utilizing different animated techniques inside a rich, and fully-realized world where literally anything is possible, and anyone you know (even the ones you’d like to erase from your memory) can appear. Chip and Dale investigate the disappearance of Monterey Jack, from Sweet Pete (Will Arnett), a washed-up Peter Pan who now dedicates his life to creating a bootlegged version of animated movies, by modifying the original characters’ appearances. 

The caper itself is a riot to watch. There are too many surprises to reveal here, but let’s just say that fans of the Rescue Rangers series will be more than satisfied, especially when the movie brings back the series’ iconic characters, Gadget (Tress MacNellie) and Zipper (Dennis Haysbert) for the climax. Mulaney and Samberg bring out their A-game, and there are plenty of scenes where their chemistry fires on all cylinders, particularly one where they rap about whales (classic Lonely Island). The supporting cast is also in on the joke, with J.K. Simmons’ Captain Putty, a claymation Police chief, and Seth Rogen’s Bob, a Beowulf-esque motion-captured character, being the film’s highlights. 

But the movie does falter with his antagonist. The movie bases the character on Bobby Driscoll’s personal life. The child star, who starred in Treasure Island, and played Peter Pan in the 1953 film, was fired from Disney after he reached puberty, which led to him being addicted to hard drugs and subsequently dying of an overdose, with his body found on a deserted cot in a New York City street corner by two boys who were playing there. His mother only found out about his death a year later. In his own words: “I have found that memories are not very useful. I was carried on a silver platter—and then dumped into the garbage.” What does Sweet Pete say? “Then I got older, and they threw me away like I was nothing. I was scared, desperate, and all alone.” When I found out that Arnett would be playing Sweet Pete, I didn’t think that the similarities between his character and Driscoll’s life were intentional. 

That changed when I saw the movie and Pete paraphrased the exact thing Driscoll did a few years before he died. It not only feels extremely disrespectful to Driscoll’s legacy but also leaves a bad taste in our mouths when we realize that Disney likely approved this before production began. The studio is essentially admitting that, yes, they were responsible for Driscoll’s decline and eventual demise from drugs, throwing him away like he was nothing because he was going through puberty…like every single human being will inevitably go through as they grow up. 

Had the movie included another antagonist and removed the Driscoll storyline from Chip ‘n Dale: Rescue Rangers, it likely would’ve been one of the greatest live-action/animation hybrids I’ve ever seen. Because if you remove this entire storyline altogether, you get an insanely fun animated adventure with brilliant vocal performances, sharply written humor, and the most unexpected cameos you’ll ever see in a Chip ‘n Dale movie (even if some of them don’t always work), through another expertly shot production from Larry Fong who has solidified himself as one of the best working cinematographers of our time. There’s lots of fun to be had in this movie, and if you’re a fan of Rescue Rangers, and animation as a whole, you will be more than satisfied. Now here’s a franchise I wouldn’t mind continuing with endless sequels and spin off series, if only the films would be released in theaters though. 

Grade: B+

Director: Jerrod Carmichael

Writer: Ari Katcher, Ryan Welch

Stars: Jerrod Carmichael, Christopher Abbott, Tiffany Haddish

Synopsis: Jerrod Carmichael makes his directorial debut and stars in On the Count of Three, a darkly comic feature about two best friends, Val (Carmichael) and Kevin (Christopher Abbott), on the last day of their lives.

One watches Jerrod Carmichael’s On the Count of Three with extreme caution, as it deals with the heavy theme of suicide, following two best friends who are spending their last day together before they collectively kill themselves. Carmichael directs and plays Val, while Christopher Abbott portrays Kevin, who each have their reasons to end their lives. However, the movie doesn’t want to explore their respective arcs. Instead, Ari Katcher and Ryan Welch’s script sticks them in a series of brief vignettes that gives virtually no insight on any theme they present, or any new character they introduce. 

The cast is incredible. Aside from Carmichael and Abbott; Tiffany Haddish, J.B. Smoove, and Henry Winkler are all great in extremely minor roles but are terribly underused. One of the most important arcs in the film is Kevin’s relationship with Dr. Brenner (Winkler), a psychiatrist who allegedly abused and tormented him when he was a child. The brief scene involving a young Kevin and Brenner [with Winkler forced to wear one of the worst wigs I’ve ever seen in a modern motion picture] barely scratches the surface on what made Kevin despise him so much that he plots to kill him before he takes his own life. Winkler does make the most of his screen time, and the scene he shares with Abbott near the end is terrific, but something feels desperately missing. 

The same thing happens with Val’s relationship with his father (Smoove) and girlfriend (Haddish). Both Smoove and Haddish are impeccable and make the most of their very limited screen time, but the movie seems disinterested in delving deep into the root of Val’s qualms with both characters. Whenever you’re doing a character drama, you should be interested in exploring the characters you focus on, and their relationship with other protagonists. But since the scenes with Smoove, Haddish, and Winkler are so brief, with the movie briskly moving from one moment to the next without any thought, the movie feels incomplete and extremely shallow. 

This is mostly due to the film’s swift runtime, which runs at 77 minutes without credits. A movie this emotionally charged shouldn’t be this short. Carmichael, Katcher, and Welch should want to deepen the relationship between Val and Kevin, and then make us understand both characters’ torment. But since we barely have a glimpse at their thought patterns and friendship, we quickly lose interest in the film, which renders the more “emotional” or “gutting” scenes of the film, which happen near the end of it, completely flat and senseless. I thought to myself that the movie wouldn’t go into the exploitative route, since it’s trying to handle suicidal thoughts with as much care as possible, but when a rather insensitive moment happens before its climax, the movie starts to get extremely exploitative and tries to manipulate the audience into feeling for both characters, when what happened in the previous hour or so was so distant that there’s virtually no emotional connection with either of them. 

It’s a good thing, though, that Carmichael and Abbott are the strongest parts of the movie, especially Abbott gives a career-best performance as Kevin. He makes the most of the limited depth he has with the character, and, in turn, gives one of the most memorable acting performances of the year. It’s just a shame that the film isn’t interested in exploring Kevin’s torment, and his friendship with Val. Both arcs are severely incomplete, and the movie would’ve definitely benefited from a longer runtime. If you’re going to delve on a facet of their life, it’s fine to make it short, but when you start to peel back on the reasoning behind their suicidal thoughts without trying to explore any of them, a brief runtime makes the movie feel rushed and underdeveloped. 

As such, On the Count of Three is nothing more than a superficial character drama with some neat 35mm cinematography, interesting needle drops (For the Love of You Pts. 1 & 2 is an incredible song), and great performances. Without such strong acting from its cast, the movie might not have been as watchable as it was, since its script barely tries to give a gripping and emotionally investing character drama. But as a first-time directorial effort, there certainly are worse movies out there. With a more impactful script, Carmichael will be a voice to watch out for. He just needs to learn how to make the most out of his time for maximum impact. Céline Sciamma’s Petite Maman was 72 minutes long and did not waste a single moment building an effective emotional core through its two protagonists. On the Count of Three has virtually nothing of interest to say about its characters, its themes, and its story. And because of this, the movie fails at making an impact and will be quickly forgotten in a couple of days. 

Grade: C-

Director: Keith Thomas

Writer: Scott Teems

Stars: Zac Efron, Ryan Kiera Armstrong, Michael Greyeyes

Synopsis: A young girl tries to understand how she mysteriously gained the power to set things on fire with her mind.

Of the myriad questions we could be asking, as the movie-going public, there’s only one that matters when it comes to Firestarter. It’s not, why do we need new adaptations when a perfectly good one exists. The question is not, why didn’t the producers choose to have Billie Eilish do a creepy cover of “We Didn’t Start the Fire,” to end the movie. The real and most pertinent question is, are we ready for Zac Efron to be playing the part of a dad? It felt like yesterday he was a fresh faced teen who morphed easily into a hunky college age schemer. He is the right age, sure, but that face. That adorable face of his is going to strain credulity until, like we did with Paul Rudd, we’ll somehow just accept Efron’s over 30 and move forward.

We can ponder these questions as we watch Firestarter because the film leaves us with little else to ponder. Once the action starts, it’s easy to see the point by point of where the story’s going, even if you haven’t read the source novel or seen the original adaptation. It’s not that every horror film needs a central metaphor to bring us out of the blood, gore, and terror to relate it to our lives, but it would be nice if Firestarter had something larger at stake. 

Dr. Wanless (Kurtwood Smith) explains that at a certain point Charlie (Ryan Kiera Armstrong) may be so powerful that she could explode with the force and impact of a nuclear bomb. Scary, for sure, but if wi-fi, smart phones, and the internet are going to be added in, why not make it more of an immediate threat? What if Dr. Wanless mentions that if Charlie wanders into a dry forest near a densely populated area, she could start a forest fire that they could never put out? Now there’s something to challenge our notions about Charlie and about the morality of the situation. That’s something Scott Teems never quite lands on in his script. He hints at these larger ideas, brushes them broadly, but there’s nothing to give a concrete reason for the madness.

Often Firestarter feels like a movie John Carpenter would have made in the ’80s. A lot of the effects look like they were created practically, from the visceral charred skin makeup, to the fire that pops out of the air on people’s arms, to the music which is an eerie, haunting, moody synthesizer driven melody. The music is because John Carpenter, along with his son Cody and their collaborator Daniel A. Davies, does create a soundscape that is far more interesting and aurally pleasing than the film. It also signals that this is intended as a horror film.

Until the final moments, when Charlie is fully unleashed, the chills and thrills are yawn worthy. It’s that final sequence that sort of redeems a lot of the lacklusterness of the action. Up until that point, there were often cut aways when the psychic powers and especially Charlie’s psychic powers are being performed. A budget constraint to be sure, but one that makes an audience wonder, as two people are engulfed in a column of flame in that thrilling final sequence, you couldn’t have spread some more of this throughout the movie?

The other redeeming quality within the film is the performance of Michael Greyeyes. He plays Rainbird, an assassin within the shadow organization, DSI, who is a psychic as well. While he’s not given much to do beyond glower and menace, Greyeyes makes a meal of these scenes and is able to make the, not quite shift in morality, but certainly shift in loyalty, a much more believable one. He’s an actor who uses subtlety to perfection.

Firestarter evokes no strong feelings. It’s not a film that has a point of view or an urge to get you to understand something about human nature. While none of this is enough to make you wish you hadn’t started Firestarter, you may be wondering if there’s some other way you could have spent an hour and a half that would have left you more satisfied.

Grade: D