Has there ever been a better “one for you, one for me” filmmaker than David Lowery? Perhaps Christopher Nolan and his run from The Prestige through The Dark Knight Rises is the most obvious example, but in the current landscape where Disney owns everything, the jumps between Pete’s Dragon, A Ghost Story, The Green Knight, and Peter Pan & Wendy seems even more impressive. All his films, whether distributed by Disney or A24, still carry his signature “eco-friendly” stamp, emphasizing Earth’s natural greens and browns common among classic eco-fables. And for many, he is still batting a thousand.
With that said, what is your favorite film directed by David Lowery?
This week on the InSession Film Podcast, inspired by Ari Aster’s new film Beau Is Afraid, we discussed our Top 3 divisive movies! Plus, a few thoughts on this year’s CinemaCon.
On that note, check out this week’s show and let us know what you think in the comment section. Thanks for listening and for supporting the InSession Film Podcast!
– Divisive Movies (3:00) Say what you will about them, but highly polarized movies are some of the most fun to talk about. Movies like Beau Is Afraid, for example, create a fascinating swing of the pendulum for audiences and the uncertainty in reactions is often entertaining. So, of course, we wanted to talk about our favorite divisive movies and why we love them.
– CinemaCon (1:39:57) For this segment, we talk about the latest news and announcements from this year’s CinemaCon. The Flash has a new trailer, Dune: Part 2 had some updates and then there was Barbie‘s latest fun.
If you want to help support us, there are several ways you can help us and we’d absolutely appreciate it. Every penny goes directly back into supporting the show and we are truly honored and grateful. Thanks for your support and for listening to the InSession Film Podcast!
Stars: Ray Romano, Laurie Metcalf, Sebastian Maniscalco
Synopsis: Leo and Angela Russo live a simple life in Queens, surrounded by their overbearing Italian-American family. When their son ‘Sticks’ finds success on his high-school basketball team, Leo tears the family apart trying to make it happen.
You may have expected a darker comedy and deeply personal experience with Ray Romano’s directorial debut, Somewhere in Queens. His first-time feature has a stench of contentedness that comes with being comfortable in his post-sitcom life. You won’t find sublimated moments from his Queens upbringing into general hilarity here. However, that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Romano’s film leans into exposed and sensitive moments that come with aging and your place in life when you reach a certain age that’s humorous and heartfelt.
Somewhere in Queens follows Leo Russo (Romano), who has become a cog in the wheel of his Italian American family. Leo is married to his high school sweetheart, Angela (Academy Award nominee Laurie Metcalf). His father, “Pops” (The French Connection’s Tony Lo Bianco), owns a construction business, and Leo’s brother, Frank (comedian Sebastian Maniscalco), is second in command. With Leo in a full-blown existential crisis and prospects beyond those familial walls, Leo has begun to live vicariously through his son, Matthew (Jacob Ward), affectionally called “Sticks” by his friends and family.
Sticks is a senior in high school and a star player on his basketball team. After a chance encounter with a scout who recruits a rival player to Syracuse, his parents are told he could land a division one basketball scholarship, albeit on a much smaller scale. The thought of Sticks playing for a school like Drexel in Philadelphia means his father can keep this form of escapism going for four more years. Leo will do anything to see his son succeed, including propositioning his son’s girlfriend, Dani (Dead to Me’s Sadie Stanley), to keep him on the right path with financial incentives.
Romano also wrote the script, and his film succeeds, even flourishes, as a heartfelt comedy when the comic captures the love and abrasive nature of this Italian family’s interaction and communication. For example, the picture has strategically layered scenes involving Leo and his family at functions such as wedding receptions and graduation parties. There is a real verve and rhythm to these scenes that bring a cringe and bitter, honest comedy that Romano is known for. The film’s best scenes revolve around the script’s bountiful Sunday dinners. There is an unsaid expression of love and success that comes with a blue-collar, working-class family that calls for a sense of achievement that cannot possibly be monetized.
Those entertaining comedic moments come from Metcalf’s Angela. Her character is deathly afraid of empty nest syndrome and the aging process. This is mainly when she’s fiercely protective of Sticks if any female interest and scene where she goes off on her primary care physician for having the nerve to suggest a support group delicately. You can practically picture the seems coming apart as she goes into a rage.
Somewhere in Queens involves fewer comedic shticks than you may expect because Romano refuses to go for homerun moments. This is fine because this dramatization is seen through a stand-up comic lens. However, the result hampers the film because the drama here is primarily only on the surface level. Romano’s script desperately needed one big, highly charged moment to show the aftermath effects of Leo’s plan to show the true resiliency of this family. Then again, the family’s tendency to bury much of it under the rug without delving too profoundly sounds as realistic as any family in Romano’s generation.
While Somewhere in Queens can be stagnant at times, especially in those clichéd moments — I would have removed the Jennifer Esposito subplot entirely — for the most part, this dramedy is enjoyable. That’s because Romano’s first time behind the camera is unafraid to lean into the raw nerves and feelings accompanying heartfelt familial experiences. If only his script had fully explored and embraced those impulses, he would have had something truly remarkable.
This week on Women InSession, we discuss musicians turned actors and why some of them turned out to be equally great on the big screen! Of course, others have been less successful, but many have turned out to be at least compelling, if not flat out excellent.
Panel: Kristin Battestella, Zita Short
On that note, check out this week’s show and let us know what you think in the comment section. Thanks for listening and for supporting the InSession Film Podcast!
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Stars: Jorma Tommila, Aksel Hennie, Jack Doolan, Mimosa Willamo
Synopsis: When an ex-soldier who discovers gold in the Lapland wilderness tries to take the loot into the city, Nazi soldiers led by a brutal SS officer battle him.
Sisu opens up with a straightforward message for its audience: The Finnish word “sisu” has no direct translation. However, it can be boiled down to a simple, universal idea. “Sisu” is “a white-knuckled form of courage and unimaginable determination in the face of overwhelming odds.” And very quickly, writer/director Jalmari Helander makes abundantly clear to the audience exactly what somebody who embodies that would look like. In the case of Sisu, the individual in question is Aatami, a prospector. With his adorable dog and horse as companions, he’s making his way across Northern Finland looking for gold during the final days of World War II. Lucky for him, he finds it rather quickly in the film’s opening chapter (the first of seven). Yet this unsuspecting stranger seems to be more than meets the eye. If the brutal scars and wounds across his body wasn’t a big enough clue, the description given to Aatami by a Nazi general should be more than clear: “He’s one mean motherfucker you don’t want to mess with.”
The fact of the matter is, in a grindhouse action film like this, broad thematic strokes are usually the most effective. In the case of Sisu, it takes the path of least resistance, all while throwing Aatami in a path exclusively filled with it. Turning a convoy of Nazis into cinematic cannon fodder is more than enough to get an audience cheering, but we also want to see Aatami succeed in securing his gold as much as we want to see Nazis blown to smithereens. Aatami is a man of few words and even less emotion, but what little we do receive is enough. As the reflection of his gold shimmers on his forehead, the roar of planes overhead reminds us, and him, that there’s still a long way home. So when he gets stopped by a small patrol and his face starts to churn into knots, the audience becomes aware almost immediately that this is only going to go down one way.
From there, the next 75 minutes of Sisu are the type that, for the most part, will always work well should the team behind it be all in. This is the type of film that begs the question: why aren’t we receiving more grindhouse films in the first place? They don’t even need to be as gory as Sisu is if you would like to market the film to larger audiences. Films like The Book of Eli or, more recently, the John Wick franchise, take on a very simple premise. Here is a man who is seemingly immortal, and he has a specific goal in mind. Against all odds, before the credits roll, the character will have achieved it. As an audience member, there’s an innate sense of companionship with the goal of a character like that. To see somebody basically kick into overdrive for the length of a film is wholly entertaining, and Sisu takes that basic premise to the utmost extreme. By the time the aptly titled sixth chapter rolls around (some jokes are best saved for the theater), the audience will have long been hooting and hollering for Aatami, also known as, “The Immortal”. Sisu is unadulterated, grindhouse fun, and I for one hope we see more films like it very soon.
Writers: Rhett Reese, Paul Wernick, Chris McKenna, and Erik Sommers
Stars: Chris Evans, Ana de Arma, Adrien Brody
Synopsis: Cole falls head over heels for enigmatic Sadie, but then makes the shocking discovery that she’s a secret agent. Before they can decide on a second date, Cole and Sadie are swept away on an international adventure to save the world.
Let’s begin by analyzing some facts. Two screenwriting duos responsible for incredibly popular action-comedy sagas – Deadpool, Zombieland, MCU’s Spider-Man. A cast filled with some of Hollywood’s biggest stars – Chris Evans, Ana de Armas, Adrien Brody, and countless eye-popping cameos. The director of Rocketman. One of the industry’s most coveted composers. I fondly remember the time when a film being produced by so many talented filmmakers and artists used to be a major positive factor in viewers’ expectations. Well, Ghosted is one of the biggest disasters of the last few years.
Many cinephiles defend the idea that the worst experience a movie can offer its audience is leaving them with nothing to think about. It’s often said something along the lines of it’s better to have a bad film that provokes some sort of reaction in the viewers than a movie that leaves them indifferent with nothing to discuss. Personally, films that leave me extremely frustrated due to wasted potential and talent are the ones that impact me the most negatively.
Ghosted had everything to be a great movie. Ideal conditions that some filmmakers look for their entire careers but don’t get. If this film was an original indie flick created by people we barely know or have never even heard of, with a minuscule budget, and only with the intention of following the filmmakers’ passion for cinema, I probably wouldn’t even be writing an article about it. However, when a movie is directed, written, produced, performed, shot, and composed by some of the most renowned Hollywood names working today, frustration takes hold of those who have just seen one of the worst films of the year.
The screenplay by Rhett Reese, Paul Wernick, Chris McKenna, and Erik Sommers is arguably the primary disappointment of Ghosted, a movie that admittedly has an interesting premise and the potential to be an adventure packed with burst-out laughing moments and impressive action sequences. Unfortunately, when the only memorable scene in the entire film is related to an external aspect – continuous cameos that everyone knew in advance were going to happen – without any connection to the actual story…
It’s genuinely unfathomable to spend almost two hours without cracking a single smile from a script written by people who left entire audiences crying with laughter in previous flicks. Ghosted suffers from a glaring lack of originality, both in its generic, predictable, unsurprising narrative and in its jokes, which are at the level of that uncle who becomes looser after ingesting a certain amount of alcohol. Evans and Armas look like they’re performing for the first time, as both have issues delivering their lines convincingly.
It’s impossible to imagine that the respective cast is devoid of any chemistry, but the technical aspects of Ghosted are so unbelievably awful that they affect the performances of everyone involved. The editing from Chris Lebenzon, Jim May, and Josh Schaeffer is, without a doubt, the most significantly negative technical highlight. It totally ruins the action set pieces with incomprehensible cuts and turns simple dialogues into audiovisual chaos: characters talking with their mouths already closed and repeating movements they had already made in the previous frame are some of the most amateur mistakes one can make.
With an editing job like this, everything else falls apart. Salvatore Totino’s cinematography can’t focus on anything, although the fight choreography also seemed sluggish and unenthusiastic. The visual effects leave a lot to be desired, to the point of looking incomplete. The portion of the budget allocated to this department is unknown, but either it wasn’t enough or they rushed what should never be rushed. Finally, Lorne Balfe’s score is hardly noticeable since Ghosted is composed more of pop songs randomly scattered through the middle of the action than instrumental music.
The main storyline is loaded with plot conveniences, and even if the viewers turn their brains off during the whole runtime, some narrative points make so little sense that it’s hard to simply tolerate and accept the various illogical developments. A few years ago, I would have been genuinely surprised by Ghosted being such a monumental letdown. However, nowadays, this type of project gets greenlit more often than not, and the only true surprise is that I continue to fall into the trap of believing that these movies could be a good bet.
Ghosted is a tremendous catastrophe. When the only memorable moments of the entire film are the myriad cameos totally disconnected from the story itself, little else can be said about it. Visual effects, action, and script are a seriously shocking mess, to the point of affecting the performances and chemistry of a renowned cast. One of the worst editing works in recent years. One of the most prominent, frustrating wastes of talent in front of and behind the camera. Very far from the “so bad it’s good” status.
Synopsis: Renfield, Dracula’s henchman and inmate at the lunatic asylum for decades, longs for a life away from the Count, his various demands, and all of the bloodshed that comes with them.
The problem with Renfield doesn’t lie entirely with the filmmakers. It lies in the saturation of marketing that the film received. Two large action set pieces are prominent in every trailer the film had and are a shrug when the extended versions show up in the film. If you were seeing an R rated feature, it’s likely you got the red band version of the trailer, which gave an idea of the buckets of CGI blood involved in those set pieces and realized as you watch the full film that there isn’t more exsanguination than that. These trailers played so often that most of us could see every beat of every scene right before it happened. So if you were one of those that saw a few movies in a theater toward the end of last year, or into this one, you won’t be surprised at all.
Because what wasn’t shown in the trailers is rather dull. Renfield (Nicholas Hoult) as a character isn’t very interesting. The parts of the film that attempt to give him nuance or backstory or a character arc are tepid. The characters that surround him are also ho hum given only one dimension to exist in. There are no stakes beyond something on the surface and that often gets buried in the excess of the violence.
Renfield would have been a lot more interesting if the filmmakers could have kept to practical effects. Yes, buckets of fake blood can be goofy, but at least the characters are actually covered in something. After one bloody brawl, Renfield and Rebecca (Awkwafina) walk away nearly clean in spite of the startling amount of spray that was taking place. It looked far goofier as a digital creation than something that could conceivably come from brutal mutilation. The film, as it continues, is one predictable point after another. This film really had so much promise in its beginning.
The opening narrative scene as Renfield describes to the audience how he made his way into Dracula’s (Nicolas Cage) employ is really well done. Director Chris McKay and cinematographer Mitchell Amundsen recreated several pivotal scenes from the 1931 Dracula. They’re lovingly rendered and elevate some of the scenes with modern techniques. Cage’s Bela Lugosi impersonation is just perfect.
If this film has redeeming qualities it’s in Nicolas Cage’s performance. From the stellar costumes by Lisa Lovass to the gruesome makeup and hair pieces by Corinne Foster, Miki Caporusso, Robin Myriah Hatcher, and their teams, everything about Dracula was fantastic. It would have been so much more enjoyable to see a full film of just this Dracula. Yes, we’ve seen Dracula dozens of times, but there is a beautiful alchemy between Cage’s gonzo approach and this titanic character. It would even have been more enjoyable to have a shot for shot remake of the 1931 version because Cage’s energy would have been something to behold with some of those dramatic moments.
Dracula is woefully underused in Renfield. It’s obvious why writer Ryan Ridley chose to highlight Renfield. It’s obvious why the filmmakers didn’t want to make just another Dracula story. Yet, it’s not obvious why they dug so shallowly into who Renfield might actually be. Renfield wants to be cool and it wants us to think it’s cool, different, and edgy, but it fails. There’s a reason Dracula has endured and why we haven’t felt the need to be familiar with Renfield before.
Stars: Mirabai Pease, Richard Crouchley, Anna-Maree Thomas
Synopsis: A twisted tale of two estranged sisters whose reunion is cut short by the rise of flesh-possessing demons, thrusting them into a primal battle for survival as they face the most nightmarish version of family imaginable.
Meatheads and gore-hounds rejoice! Lee Cronin’s Evil Dead Rise is a bloodstained and adrenaline-fueled funhouse of crazed horror delights that references the franchise’s past, while introducing new maneuvers that make it stand out on its own. Whether or not you are a fan of The Evil Dead, there’s plenty to relish in the latest installment. In the words of Ash J. Williams, this film is “groovy”.
Almost forty-two years have passed since the horror-comedy staple The Evil Dead was released, created by the mad genius Sam Raimi. This franchise has revolutionized the horror and comedy (and everything in between) genres to the point that filmmakers need to tip their hats in honor of the American director. It’s genuinely awe-inspiring how Raimi managed to create something so frightening and howl-inducing at the same time, while still being innovative in terms of story and directorial vision. Sure, it borrows from the narrative aesthetics of the “cabin in the woods” movies. But what lies within such a cabin, and the classic hero in the middle, Ash J. Williams (Bruce Campbell), are very innovative and clever; the lore behind the evils conjured in those woods (the Necronomicon, Deadites, The Kandarian Dagger) makes us eager to learn more about them. And when you add Raimi’s distinctive style of slapstick-like crashing maneuvers into the mix, the result is something ever-lasting.
In 2013, Fede Álvarez helmed a remake of the original Evil Dead films, and, in my honest opinion, it was pretty disappointing. While it contained a high degree of grueling visuals and tried to implement a new story surrounding drug addiction (and going cold turkey), the film ended up feeling incomplete because it missed the mark on the comedic factors of the franchise. After that film, I thought there wouldn’t be another installment due to the mixed reception and the cancellation of the Ash vs. The Evil Dead series. It made plenty of money at the box office, yet, I felt that we were beginning to the end of this franchise I’m a big fan of. However, ten years after Álvarez’s feature, Lee Cronin arrives with Evil Dead Rise – a brutal reinvention of the decades-spanning franchise while still giving nods to the past and other 80s genre classics (The Shining, Society, Pieces). Initially, this film was going to be a straight-to-streaming release, but thank heavens that the people in charge got their heads straight.
A curtain raiser sets up a similar premise to what we expect from an Evil Dead film, the classic cabin in the woods setting where evil lurks in every corner (even in the depths of the ocean). It encapsulates a familiar tension and horror setup that basically defined the franchise. But after some gnarly action involving a drone and head scalping, Lee Cronin switches the scene; from the woods, we go into a deteriorated high-rise Los Angeles apartment. In such an apartment, a mother, Ellie (Alyssa Sutherland), lives with her three children – Danny, Bridget, and Kassie (Morgan Davies, Gabrielle Echols, and Nell Fisher) – and she’s trying to piece together her life after a series of events that turned her family’s life upside down. Her sister Beth (Lily Sullivan), who has recently discovered that she’s pregnant, has arrived for a surprise visit after taking a break from touring with a rock band as a guitar technician (not as a groupie).
As a means to heal the wounds of the past, Beth being estranged from her sister for a long while now, Ellie asks the kids to go out and grab a pizza from the nearby local. Once they arrive, a high-magnitude earthquake hits, cracking open the ground with several crevices around, one of them revealing an abandoned bank vault from the old times. Danny curiously jumps into the hole to see what he can find. And wouldn’t you know it, he finds some old vinyl records alongside one of the volumes of the Necronomicon (aka. the Book of the Dead). The aspiring DJ plays the tunes of malevolence, in which a group of priests reads a passage from the book. And immediately, things take a turn for the worse. The evil presence possesses dear Ellie and turns her into a manic soul-hungry Deadite who wants to rip her kids apart into little pieces. Welcome to Lee Cronin’s carnival of horror delights, where the laughs are delivered in equal measure as blood and guts are spilled into the screen.
Unlike the first film in the franchise, which talked about the fixation with darkness and death, Evil Dead Rise is a story about motherhood – how to roll with the punches of maternity when your life is crashing down. You can even say that the evils chasing Beth are a personification of her worries about being a mother, each one getting worse to recap the stages of life, from the shining bright light of birth to eventual death. You get glimpses of Beth feeling the baby inside her, more so when malevolence is eating the world around her, right until the last act, when her acute maternal instincts click to save the day. Most of this is up to interpretation because the film isn’t totally interested in exploring all of this. This may be a fault in another film, but since the Irish filmmaker’s vision of an Evil Dead movie is so pulsating and bloody good fun, it isn’t bothersome. One just rolls with it from beginning to end.
In Evil Dead Rise, Lee Cronin uses every single inch of its location to its highest potential. From using everyday objects as murderous weapons – the first one that comes to mind is a cheese grater – to implementing a claustrophobic environment, the viewer gets a sensation that there’s no sense of escape. This heightens its sinister atmosphere to a delightful degree. The change of scenery from the cabin in the woods to a high-rise apartment creates a more profound sense of chaos that arises as the minutes pass. “Everyone here dies by dawn”, says Deadite Ellie at one point in the film, and it certainly feels like this is so. The characters, both kids and adults, go through traumatizing events that make your stomach churn if you are not too accustomed to seeing significant amounts of gore on the big screen. If you are a gore-hound or meathead (such as I), you will have an evil grin throughout the entire ninety-seven minutes of the film’s runtime.
It’s almost a sadistic experience; while gruesome acts are happening on-screen, the Deadites enjoy being the vilest and most cruel people in the world. And it’s so entertaining to watch because of the performances by the excellent cast. Nevertheless, Alyssa Sutherland, with her malicious grin and crimson red hair, is the one who stands out from the bunch as the leading Deadite in the marching band of death. Sutherland quickly switches from a disturbing demonic persona to soothing motherly care with ease. She isn’t afraid to go all out and embrace the rampaging comedic excessiveness of these possessive demons, adding more terrifying layers to the film. You just wish you could see her for a couple more hours due to her being so energetic and exhilarating. On the other hand, her counterpart Lily Sullivan is a badass final girl whose presence is more than a stand-in for Bruce Campbell’s Ash Williams. Sure, she wields a shotgun and chainsaw just as the classic hero, but she makes the character her own, and the audience cares about her. Seeing them go head to head throughout the film was just a horror genre blessing.
The practical effects and makeup teams deserve multiple rounds of applause because they made everything feel so tactile. Cronin makes sure that the audience feels every single stabbing, piercing, and shot to the possessed meat-sacks in Evil Dead Rise, whether by closeups of the damage being done or just letting the camera linger to show the beauty behind tangible monstrosities – something that CGI or high-budgeted visual effects cannot capture. And that also includes the gallons upon gallons of blood raining down on the cast and crew. Blood is spilled in so much quantity that the audience leaves the theater seemingly drenched in it as well. There’s something so fascinating about creating something that you can sense its presence and feel that it is real rather than just a conjuring from a computer screen. That was one of my problems with another recent horror release, Renfield, which falsely promoted itself as a gore-fest with some comedic chops. But instead, it was filled with poor CGI decapitations and arm rippings; even the blood was a visual effect.
From the get-go, you notice that Lee Cronin has a close attachment to the Evil Dead franchise, referencing the original two pictures with Raimi-like shots captured by cinematographer Dave Garbett, classic quippy lines, iconic weapons, and even some slapstick comedy bits. Unlike Álvarez, Cronin embraces the past while moving forward with a new story. It is a bold swing to switch things up. Yet, taking the pandemic under consideration, the restrictive and claustrophobic setting paves the way for something more wicked to arrive as the clock keeps ticking. I was ecstatic to see this film, and I’m so glad it didn’t end up disappointing me like other horror releases in the 2020s (cough, cough… Last Night in Soho and The Black Phone). Having watched Evil Dead Rise twice already (and I’m planning to see it a third time), I can say that the fun doesn’t diminish; you continue to be entranced by the gore and splatter in the same amount you laugh at the jokes and quips. Does this film beat Evil Dead 2? Of course not. But is it the third best? Absolutely!
Synopsis: A realtor pursues a new career as a Dolly Parton impersonator.
In America, it is practically impossible to find someone who doesn’t truly love Dolly Parton. She’s more than a singer-songwriter. Dolly is a true icon. The film Seriously Red, directed by Gracie Otto, and starring Krew Bolan and Bobby Canavale, shows audiences that Dolly is as much of an icon in Australia and the rest of the world as she is in the United States. The film delves into the sub-culture of celebrity impersonators, as well as the lengths people will go through to achieve stardom and success.
Red (Bolan), is a quirky woman working in real estate at the start of the film. She is funny and refreshing, but yes, there are those who find her obsession with Dolly Parton a bit strange. She gets fired early in the film for her frequent inappropriate behavior at parties when she drinks. We see a young Red dressing up as Parton, and continues to do so as she gets older. She performs for co-workers and friends. Her mother doesn’t understand her. Her best friend, Francis, always encourages her to be herself. Red gets fired from her real-estate job, and she begins making a living as a Dolly Parton impersonator. Red loses herself as she completely changes her life to become her idol. She has a relationship with a Kenny Rogers impersonator. She drives away her friends and family, and realizes that she needs to find out who she is, and forget trying to become someone else.
The supporting cast added a great deal to the charm of this film. Thomas Campbell plays Red’s best friend, Francis. The two have terrific chemistry, and their relationship was one of the highlights of the film. He is the only person who truly sees Red for all that she is. He loves the real Red, and is saddened as she begins to fade away and become Dolly all the time. Honestly, if there had been a sitcom in the 1990s about these two, it would have been a huge success. Danny Webber plays Kenny, a Kenny Rogers impersonator, who encourages Red to completely lose herself into the role of Dolly. Red and Kenny DO become successful. They travel around the world. Red is finally a success, rather than a joke at the office. But at what price? Who is the real Red?
As a fan of Dolly Parton, I find this movie to be infinitely charming. I love films about quirky characters, and Red is about as quirky as it gets. You feel for her when people find her weird and laugh at her. But, she also has a great deal of confidence to go out in the world and put herself out there to entertain people. The film is peppered with quotes from Queen Dolly herself, which shows the deep appreciation the writer clearly has for her. Bolan is delightful and relatable, as a woman who is looking for something bigger in life, bigger than her office job where everyone treats her like a joke. She finds and then loses herself as a Dolly Parton impersonator. My favorite part of the movie, however, is the always wonderful Bobby Canavale. I never knew how much I needed to see him sing “I Am, I Said” as a Neil Diamond impersonator.
All in all, this is a sweet, funny, and enjoyable movie. The performances are entertaining and the story is one that most of us can relate to. Is it groundbreaking? No. But if you are looking for a movie that will make you laugh, feel good, and you enjoy Dolly Parton (who doesn’t), this will be an enjoyable film for you.
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, Hero, The Matrix trilogy, and even the Kung Fu Panda series all stem from the genre known as wuxia, which translates to “martial heroes” in Chinese. It is martial arts in story form infused with magical realism that has become a staple of Chinese-produced TV and cinema. The protagonists are usually independent and born out of the lower depths of society who rise to become heroes and vigilantes against different forms of oppression that hurt others. It is an appealing form of entertainment that translates into all languages. The wuxia film has existed since the 1920s. Still, the contemporary form originated in the 1960s through Shaw Brothers Studio, and one of its leading directors, Hu Jinquan, better known as King Hu.
Hu was born in Beijing and moved to Hong Kong in 1949 where he studied English and worked in multiple capacities for various productions. He was hired by Shaw Brothers in the late ‘50s and worked as a production designer, actor, screenwriter, and assistant director. Hu was encouraged to be a full-time director and was given his first job on Sons Of The Good Earth in 1965. He then would start his string of successful films that would build the wuxia genre to what it is now. Although he left Shaw Brothers during this time, Hu would take his skills to Taiwan which was constructing its own film industry.
Come Drink With Me (1966)
Hu was interested in traditional storytelling rather than violent exploitation. The violence is there with all the blood because that’s how it was but with artistic merit. It is here that Come Drink With Me lays down the first stones of what a modern martial arts film can be. At just 19 years old, Cheng Pei-Pei, who would later star in Crouching Tiger, plays the daughter of a general and a skilled swordswoman named Golden Swallow who goes out to rescue her brother from bandits. She is aided by a drunk, played by Yueh Hua, who happens to be a martial arts professional who is low-key about his talents. The two will form an unlikely pair to take down a highly dangerous monk of a monastery who works with the bandits that have her brother.
Hu was invested in Peking Opera and chose Cheng because of her dancing background. Using the opera’s movements as inspiration for the visual design, he creates a fight that strips off the artificial look of the swordplay from before with something that felt aesthetically real. The takes in the fights were longer so the edit manipulations would not be obvious. This would carry on with his later films. It was dangerous as it was never attempted to have this much combat happen in one film. The sets were bigger where two floors would be seen simultaneously and play a part in the sequence. Having a female character as the lead in wuxia was also unheard of, establishing the type of character as a mainstay in the genre.
Because of the studio’s lean toward strong violence, Hu chose to cut ties with Shaw Studios and take a job with new Taiwanese production companies being created.
Dragon Inn (1967)
Going to Taiwan, he made a smash hit across Asia, setting box office records in Taiwan, South Korea, and the Philippines with his battle between good and evil at a singular tavern. Dragon Inn almost feels like a remake of Seven Samurai but is never drenched in the constant themes of honor, revenge, and fending off the big bad wolves that are encroaching. When a general is executed for treason, the emperor orders the secret police to hunt down and kill the general’s children who have fled. But loyalists to the executed general await to defend them from the eunuch’s executioners at the tavern in a spectacular choreography of action.
King Hu sets up the premise in the prologue with the backstory and lets the fighting play the film out. However, he uses his interest in the Peking Opera to add a drop of Chinese authentic style that no other martial arts film had shown. It becomes faster and the action keeps expanding as Hu writes in detail moment-by-moment each fight inside or outside while not overindulging us with quick zooms, pans, and cuts. Hu sucks out all of the wordy backstories and the heart of the characters without losing his artistic integrity. His focus is on the story’s atmosphere, whether it be in silence or full of sound, the whole story forwards itself.
A Touch Of Zen (1971)
Hu went bigger and bolder than in his two previous films, but the risk was massive because of how much the schedule and budget overran, taking three years to shoot and edit. Under the influence of Zen Buddhism, Hu would put forward themes of transcendence and redemption following a noblewoman who hides in a village, only to be discovered by those who want to hunt her down as she is a fugitive against a corrupt leader. A local man gets involved, but first as a non-combatant because he doesn’t have the skills to actually fight, but soon finds the confidence to help the woman and take on her challengers – as well as fall in love with the noblewoman.
The film’s most famous sequence is the bamboo fight, a ten-minute battle that took three weeks to shoot because of the degree of difficulty in terms of choreography and hiding the zip lines that carried the actors. This is directly seen in Ang Lee making Crouching Tiger because of all the flying scenes in the trees. Hu manages to mix in some form of supernaturalism with rough realism of action as the story builds itself up to reaching enlightenment. His set pieces were grandiose, which played a role in the production going on for so long, but the reach Hu goes for close to authenticity is seen. The film had to be this long in order to give justice to his adaptation of classic Chinese stories from the 14th century.
Upon release as a two-part film, it failed completely. In 1975, Hu took it to Cannes where it received thunderous applause and recognition from the jury, the first film of the wuxia genre to get awarded. Only then did the film get much more attention and acclaim from others, putting his stamp on the genre and his legacy as a master of the Pacific Rim, opening the doors towards the Western world. He ended the decade with two films, Raining In The Mountain, and Legend Of The Mountain, both shot in South Korea. King Hu’s last works would not be as successful, going into semi-retirement, and dying in 1997, at age 64.
Today, martial arts are everywhere in all forms of media. It is part of the tradition that emerged from Asia to become a pop culture staple by all means. The traces of King Hu’s work in his wuxia movies are everywhere as he became the standard for raising the bar on technical achievements from Asia. The foundations for it all were laid back in the late ‘60s with directors like King Hu willing to make sacrifices and push the boundaries of what could be done. It was only a matter of time before it gained a foothold across the oceans and played out in faraway lands where they had never seen this before.
With the release of both Beau is Afraid and Evil Dead Rise this weekend, horror will be top of mind for film-going audiences. Not many people know the name Lee Cronin, but Evil Dead Rise is looking to make a splash. Cronin’s debut film The Hole in the Ground was a small film that rendered little at the box office. However; Evil Dead Rise may be the film that gets Cronin the attention of horror films. Ari Aster, on the other hand, is a name that we do know. His previous outings have mostly been embraced and he’s made a name for himself in the horror community. Beau is Afraid will certainly divide audiences, but that’s what makes him compelling. Either way, it’s inspiration for our poll this week as we ask you for your favorite horror filmmakers. There are so many great directors to choose from here, it’ll be hard to narrow down to just one. But who do you got?
This week on the InSession Film Podcast, inspired by The Pope’s Exorcist, we discussed the wild career of the great Russell Crowe! From peak movie stardom, to complex character studies, to weird bit roles, Crowe has done it all. Plus, we talk a little bit about this bizarre Warner Bros. Max situation.
On that note, check out this week’s show and let us know what you think in the comment section. Thanks for listening and for supporting the InSession Film Podcast!
– Russell Crowe (5:30) Crowe’s career may not have gone the way he anticipated, but there’s no denying his presence on screen. He’s immensely talented and sometimes even willing to get outside his sandbox, for better or worse. As a result, he’s been a part of some great films, some weird films and a few that may seem a little…unhinged.
– Listener Q&A (1:39:57) For this segment, we spend most of it talking about the Warner Bros. Discovery fiasco over HBO Max and the dissolution of the HBO branding. The decisions have been baffling and we just had to talk about it.
If you want to help support us, there are several ways you can help us and we’d absolutely appreciate it. Every penny goes directly back into supporting the show and we are truly honored and grateful. Thanks for your support and for listening to the InSession Film Podcast!
Stars: David Jonsson, Vivian Oparah, Poppy Allen-Quarmby
Synopsis: Two youngsters reeling from bad breakups who connect over an eventful day in South-London.
From the get-go, Rye Lane is almost too predictable. Dom (David Jonsson) can’t get over his breakup with Gia (Karene Peter) and sobs uncontrollably in a unisex bathroom stall. Hearing him drown his sorrows, Yas (Vivian Oparah) asks Dom if he’s alright, and the blossoming of a romance forms before us. Director Raine Allen-Miller knows that you know how the film will end: with the two characters madly in love with one another. It’s a story told repeatedly, and it’s part of why Rye Lane can only reach a certain high. However, Allen-Miller crafts such an intricately developed romance, with innovative filmmaking techniques and two incredible, star-making performances from its leads, that you can’t help but walk away from the movie with a huge smile.
It’s even more impressive that Allen-Miller can craft such a rich romance with such a short runtime. Without credits, Rye Lane clocks in at only 77 minutes. How can she construct such a richly-developed romance with a thin runtime? Easy. She doesn’t waste time in getting the characters together. Then she builds on their relationship as they meet-cute through short flashbacks, cuts in time, and several situations where they have to pretend to have a “deeper” relationship than they have with themselves. These elements help develop the characters and create a relationship that doesn’t feel as surface-level or unnatural as many rom-coms seem to these days. Your Place or Mine is almost two hours long, and there isn’t a single scene where the leads have a sense of chemistry together.
Rye Lane barely has a feature-length runtime, and each lead is properly developed and brilliantly acted. The movie wouldn’t have been as good without Jonsson and Oparah’s lead performances. Oparah, in particular, delivers a sharply-funny turn as Yas and develops her more ironic banter and outlook on a past relationship through Dom’s problems with his ex-girlfriend, who cheated on him with his best friend (brilliantly played by Benjamin Sarpong-Broni). The supporting cast is also excellent, with minor but effective performances that make its world feel more complete. Allen Miller doesn’t need to spend much time with the supporting cast, as this is a film about Dom and Yas, but they are also extremely important to how the film’s world feels quirky and lived in.
A particular highlight is one scene in which Dom and Yas visit Jules’ (Malcolm Atobrah, playing Yas’ ex-boyfriend) family. One member breaks into a song for no reason, and it’s the most genuinely heartfelt moment of any movie I’ve seen in 2023 thus far. There’s even an unexpected cameo from an A-list star of British cinema that perfectly describes the movie’s self-referential and witty tone. However, I won’t dare spoil who it is, though Twitter probably has, but if you haven’t been spoiled, and are planning to watch the film, don’t look it up! It’s genuinely one of the most surprising cameo appearances of the year so far and feels in line with the aesthetic and visual dynamism the movie brings.
Of course, with such a short runtime, one expects Rye Lane to move forward swiftly, which it does. Its editing is fast-paced, and the movie’s cinematography is incredibly lively, going from fish-eye lenses, split-diopters, and a visual palette filled with neon colors and expressive hues. It’s a great way to quickly immerse the audience into the film and hook them from beginning to end. Could it have used more meat around the bone? Sure. Its plot should’ve been less conventional, too. Still, Allen-Miller more than makes up for its storytelling inconsistencies by getting two incredible lead performances, an inventive visual style, and incredibly quirky humor. It never overstays its welcome, which is rare in romantic comedies. If you’re looking for something light to watch on streaming, don’t hesitate to watch Rye Lane immediately.
Synopsis: A modern action adventure road story where a 17-year-old girl named Suzume helps a mysterious young man close doors from the other side that are releasing disasters all over in Japan.
With a magnificent animation team and a blend of melancholic and humorous tone shifts, Makoto Shinkai delivers his best work to date with Suzume. This film takes apart his usual directing trademarks to pursue a mature (and personal) version of the stories we have seen from him before.
There haven’t been many animated films lately that have blown me away. As the years pass, the less impressive the majority have been. The big guys, such as Illumination and Disney, dominate this genre. It has caused other interesting works to have limited time in the spotlight as general audiences tend to seek out the aforementioned companies’ filmographies more so than the smaller ones. This decade so far has been mediocre when it comes to animated flicks, but, at the very least, there are quite a few surprising and marvelous films – Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio, Unicorn Wars, Wolfwalkers, and FLEE. Those films demonstrate the creative and innovative things a filmmaker can do with the genre instead of doing the same just to fit the mold or current trend. Another movie can be added to that short list of films, and that is Makoto Shinkai’s latest work, Suzume, which, in my honest opinion, is better (and more ambitious) than his record-breaking box-office mega-hit, Your Name (2016) – the film that put his name on the map for audiences worldwide.
Makoto Shinkai is known for creating emotional and beautifully animated pieces that dwell within magical realism and fantasy realms. And with Suzume, the Japanese filmmaker continues his trend of delivering melancholic tunes to his stories about young love and trauma while intertwining them with natural disasters – in this case, the Tōhoku Earthquake and Tsunami of 2011 – and daydream essences. The film is titled after its main character, Suzume (Nanoka Hara), a 17-year-old girl who lives with her aunt Tamaki (Eri Fukatsu) in the south of Japan. She has plenty of people that care about her, but Suzume always keeps them at a certain distance. Suzume is distant from those she cares about due to her mother’s passing twelve years earlier during the Tōhoku disaster. Her loss still pierces her soul; a melancholic cloud floats around her head as she can’t shake the feeling that she’s gone.
As Suzume walks to school one day, she comes across a mysterious young man named Souta (Hokuto Matsumura), who’s asking for the location of a magical door in a nearby ruin. Of course, Suzume knows where the door is located and, because she’s attracted to him, goes along the journey that she’d never expected to be on – the door is a portal into another world. Frightened by such a reveal, she decides to head back to school. Later, everyone’s phone explodes with earthquake alarms; Suzume looks out of the window and sees a giant red monster ascending into the sky. That benign creature is a supernatural force that’s the main cause behind Japan’s natural disasters. And since Suzume curiously opened the door (and didn’t close it afterward in fear), it managed to escape into the real world. As a “gift” for helping it escape, the creature turns Souta into a three-legged wooden chair – the last memento Suzume has from her childhood before her mother’s passing.
In pure Shinkai fashion filled with lovely moments, fantasy sequences, and beautiful animation, the two strangers turned journey travelers go around Japan trying to catch a cat that can lift Sota’s curse and close the portal doors, stopping the monster before it destroys the city. His blend of CG and hand-drawn animation just takes your breath away, leaving the viewer in awe of seeing a master at work. Instead of sticking to one Japanese region, specifically the metropolitan area, Shinkai decides to visit multiple locations by implementing a “road trip” movie scenario where the characters are forced to branch out elsewhere for their respective journeys. Because of this, Shinkai and his animators get to show various vistas and locations ranging from smaller villages to countryside plains. Those shots are beautiful and sharply vivid, but the most enthralling ones are those of human connection – scenes where subtlety is crucial, and every emotion is tactile.
Coping with trauma and love amidst loss are the main themes scattered through Suzume’s narrative, as there is an intertwining between a sensation of dread and the willingness for hope – emotion and heartbreak tied together. The film also illustrates how the world has changed around you when tragedy strikes by showing us abandoned amusement parks and other torn-down places that haven’t been rebuilt since the big earthquake. These scenes where Suzume looks at the decaying abandoned locations around her add a melancholic tone without a single line being spoken, almost like a ghost story. Despite the darker tone of the story, in comparison with his other features, this is still a Makoto Shinkai film full in full, but with a defined earnest and dramatic flair attached to it. One of the main reasons Suzume works is that it’s never overly sentimental nor reaches a melodramatic tone when approaching those true-to-life narrative scenarios.
The blend of tones – a love story to a fantasy battle sequence, exploration of trauma to comedic quips – might cause some viewers to lose patience, as Shinkai is tackling concepts with bigger heft and uniting them with his usual narrative tendencies. Yet, if you can keep on the film’s wavelength, the result is his best and most personal work ever. Humor and melancholy are ever prescient; you laugh at its comedic and cute segments, later to weep in its emotional catharsis of saddened hymns. Shinkai’s storytelling prowess is manifested through imaginative visualizations of these intersections between longing and cessation. This paves the way for some of the most captivating and detailed images in modern Japanese animation. Its interconnection with an array of emotions reminds me of Studio Ghibli pictures, Shinkai often referencing a couple of master Hayao Miyazaki’s films – Kiki’s Delivery Service, Spirited Away, and Castle in the Sky in particular.
While there are still some cringe-worthy lines in Makoto Shinkai’s screenplay, stating that he still hasn’t been able to shake off his most prominent narrative fault, Suzume still feels like his most mature work. The impact it brings depends on how much you connect with the characters and the willingness of the viewer to dwell in Shinkai’s directorial ambitiousness. I found it richer in terms of his thematics and storytelling composition than his previous features, as the topics are elaborated upon in a manner that he isn’t used to doing, even if it still has Shinkai’s trademarks. As the titular character wanders through the various doorways scattered across Japan, the film shifts itself into a territory where the real and fantastical all blend together, creating an experience that hooks you from beginning to end. Whether or not Shinkai will best himself after Suzume is yet to be seen. But I’m excited to see an extraordinary filmmaker generating a ripe technique years into his beloved work.
This week on Women InSession, we discuss the career of the great Cate Blanchett and why she might be the best actress of the 21st century! Regardless of the film, she demands the screen and is one of the most nuanced performers of our time.
On that note, check out this week’s show and let us know what you think in the comment section. Thanks for listening and for supporting the InSession Film Podcast!
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Synopsis: Following the sudden death of his mother, a mild-mannered but anxiety-ridden man confronts his darkest fears as he embarks on an epic, Kafkaesque odyssey back home.
Standing tall at an almost three-hour runtime with hazy pacing, Beau is Afraid is an anxiety-inducing cinematic experience like no other. By blending jet-black humor with existentialist horrors, Aster and Phoenix jointly craft an absurdist, no-holds-barred picture that showcases the best of their respective abilities and newly-found artistic capacities. Dive into an infinity pool of Freudian nightmares if you dare, and follow the steps of a pitiful man afraid of everything.
Ari Aster is a master manipulator, and I say that in the most positive way imaginable. Both his features and shorts have a prescient yielding that calms the viewer for a second, later to dwell in the tension-filled horrors of human bonds (primarily family), the presence of time, and everything in between. Although he is a visionary filmmaker in some regards, his films are always steeped in the past – referencing other acclaimed works (The Exorcist, The Wicker Man, Don’t Look Now) but adding his own twist to them, often morbidly hilarious and sadistic ones that make or break some of the viewer’s cinematic experiences. And the weird thing is that he’s getting funnier each time around, cementing jet-black nightmare-inducing comedy as his storytelling comfort zone. After cursing us with an unnerving and tension-filled family drama in Hereditary and later following it up with a floral folk-horror-inspired fairy tale with Midsommar, Aster thought it was time to create his passion project, and A24 ultimately backed him up, sending almost fifty million dollars to pursue his wicked dream film.
The film he’s been aching to set free into the world is titled Beau is Afraid – the title is taken from his 2011 short film, Beau – and it is creatively disturbing as sin, running at a lusciously malevolent three hours. In this film, Aster presents a comedic Charlie Kaufman-inspired Kafta-esque story drenched in dread and disappointment, where Freud’s Oedipus Complex is ever-present. Death and mothers are just the tip of the surrealistic iceberg that Beau is Afraid is mounted on, as there’s a lot to unpack within each minute shown. Arriving with the succinct tagline “from his darkest fears comes the greatest adventure” as a means to try and sell this movie to the public, the film begins with the bright light of birth, yet with a darkened underpinning. You hear a mother screaming at the top of her lungs for her baby to enter the world.
Already, you begin to get a sense that Aster is about to deliver something far more disturbing than one might have even anticipated if you’ve seen the trailers and posters. The film jumps forward almost five decades later, where we are given a proper introduction to our ever-suffering and lonely protagonist, Beau Wasserman (Joaquin Phoenix), having a session with his therapist where he’s discussing a trip to see his domineering mother, Mona (Patti LuPone in the present; Zoe Lister-Jones in the past). It feels that he is still guilt-ridden for all that has happened throughout his life, including being born in the first place. He hasn’t seen his mother in months. This trip has him filled with remorse – afraid of what’s to come upon arrival, or even worse, how to get there with a riotous city on the brink of collapse where AR-15s are being sold on the streets, and there’s a naked serial killer on the loose named Birthday Stab Man.
The city and the situations Beau faces reflect what he would describe as his own personal hell. And inside his apartment complex, Beau isn’t safe either; there’s a brown spider on the loose, and he has a violent neighbor that complains about his non-existent music playing. Even without the film showing too much of its deranged self, we begin to see the brilliance of Phoenix’s acting chops, brilliantly playing a character that becomes more pathetic as the film continues. Beau is a man subdued by his own fears and anxieties, preferring to dwell in his tortured mind rather than face the harsh reality of life, and Phoenix plays him perfectly. Aster puts him through various situations that showcase that he isn’t just a pathetic man on the inside and outside. While there is an excellent selection of great supporting performances (LuPone, Parker Posey, Richard Kind, Kylie Rogers), all of which easily steal scenes from the leading man, this is Phoenix’s show.
On the day of his trip, Beau’s keys mysteriously go missing (as if someone stole them), which causes him to miss the flight back home and confront his guilt-tripping mother via a phone call where she says, “It’s fine” he can’t make it. But all know that everything is not indeed “fine,” as she states. That precise phrase showcases how Mona has weaponized her son’s guilt. The guilt contained within human bonds (primarily blood-related) has been a pet topic by Aster in his past works. But in Beau is Afraid, it takes a darker and more ambitious turn for the best. The Oedipal complexities of Beau’s relationship with his mother are so richly unhinged that they cause the viewer to remain anxious, like the titular character. However, it might reach a certain point where some audiences grow frustrated with the film. And I don’t blame them; it is a lot to take in – three hours worth of disorienting and almost absurdist, due to the lengths of the surprises arising in the latter half, filmmaking from one of the best horror directors working today.
Beau’s worries increase as it has been revealed by a mail carrier (Bill Hader) that his mother has passed away in a freak accident in which a chandelier smashed into her head. Riddled with remorse and entirely heartbroken, Beau steps outside to leave for Mona’s funeral. And instantaneously, he crosses paths with a truck driven by two overprotective parents, Roger (Nathan Lane) and Grace (Amy Ryan), who put him in a Misery-like situation. After such events, which I won’t spoil because the journey is so chaotic that you should experience them in its totality in a packed theater, Beau is Afraid transcends into a weird and grotesque panoply of conjoined psychological horror-comedy set pieces that fit together in unimaginable ways – creating a mad fun-house of anxieties, fears, and dismay, with delightful mirrorings of an inescapable existential hell. From Pawel Pogorzelski’s bewitching cinematography to Bobby Krlic’s cacophonous compositions (and the late uproarious addition of an ‘Always Be My Baby’ by Mariah Carey needle drop), every cinematic aspect helps the film to uplift its lucid nightmare aesthetics.
Beau is Afraid often feels like Aster’s version of Synecdoche, New York – a no-holds-barred project that, in a master’s hands, manages to tether between the realms of nightmarish surrealism and a vivid grounded nature at a constant rate to make its melancholy hit harder and its mythicality to push forward its shock factor. You are left in awe by the beauty of such original creations. Every succeeding chapter feels like a more significant swing than the one that precedes it, all of which deliver one demented uproarious gag to the next. Aster has many tricks up his sleeves that showcase the best of his abilities and new specialties withheld from us over the years. The wonderful practical effects, stop-motion animation from The Wolf House directors Joaquín Cociña and Cristóbal León (which brings a matryoshka doll-like storytelling structure), and the intertwining between past and present all add to the bizarre experience that is Beau is Afraid. It might be a bit too much in the end.
Still, that same excess smeared in the film helps to create a numbing coating that hypnotizes the viewer and alleviates the pain just before, moments later, Ari Aster puts you back into the meat grinder of antagonistic horrors. At the end of the day, Beau is Afraid is an imaginative venture into the depths of Aster’s mind – a place where his fears, worries, anxieties, and pleasures come out to play.
No one gets thirsty like Count Dracula. The popular character was introduced in 1897 by Bram Stoker, making his first onscreen appearance in the Hungarian silent film The Death of Dracula in 1921. Nowadays, we primarily associated the character with Max Schreck in 1922, Bela Legosi in 1931, Christopher Lee in 1958, and Gary Oldman in 1992. And of course we can’t forget Adam Sandler and his iconic “blah blah blah” in 2012. Now Nicolas Cage takes on the role in Renfield, and it prompted us to look back at the many adaptations of Bram Stoker’s classic.
What do you think is the best Dracula-themed movie?
