Body becomes a bit ripe
On Monday, April 20, an op-ed appeared in the New York Times with the headline “Movies are Bullying Us with Their Bloat,” by Frank Bruni. In it, the author harps on a complaint I’ve had with American movies for quite some time: their needless length. He points out the average running time for a film was 95 minutes in 1989. Today, it’s 116.
It was good to see that I wasn’t the only one who noticed, far too often, a sense of numbness setting into their legs at the multiplex. Longtime readers of my reviews are well aware that I’ve been noting this trend and how it’s been getting worse for years now. And just to clarify – it’s the not the running time I object to, it’s what a filmmaker does with that time.
Ben-Hur (1959) clocks in at 212 minutes, Gone with the Wind (1939) at 238, and Titanic (1997) at 194, each of these films keeping my and many other viewers’ interest from the first minute to the last. Each follow Howard Hawks’ maxim that every scene should move the story forward, each of them absent of repetitious or superfluous moments which cause a story to stall, my patience to wane and my ire to rise.
You’ve probably surmised by now that I’ve sat through yet another movie that overstays its welcome and you would be correct. Jorma Taccone’s otherwise serviceable dark comedy, Over Your Dead Body is the latest production to tax my patience, a film that for the most part I liked … until, I didn’t. Smartly written, well-acted and far more clever than I expected, the movie breezes along with a sense of confidence that’s endearing, its brand of meta-humor complimenting its gruesome premise.
Based on Norwegian thriller, the story opens with Dan (Jason Segel), a disillusioned director of commercials, talking to his assistant about his upcoming weekend. He has a getaway to the mountains planned with his wife, Lisa (Samara Weaving) and makes too fine a point on the fact his partner plans on taking a very dangerous hike. Truth is, she has no such intention, as Dan is planting the first of many too obvious seeds for an alibi he anticipates needing as he plans on killing Lisa. Problem is, she’s aware of his plan and turns the tables on her would be assassin, tasing Dan and binding him tight before revealing her plans for him. Seems she too has a plan to dispose of her spouse and is all too eager to put it into action.
The interactions between the two leads are very good. The vitriol they spew at each other so overwrought you can’t help but laugh, Segel and Weaving’s sharp timing allowing just enough time for each joke to laugh before moving to the next. They’re capable enough to carry a film on their own had this been a tight, two-hander.
But alas, that is not the case as they are interrupted by two escaped cons, Pete and Todd (Timothy Olyphant and Keith Jardine) and Allegra (Juliette Lewis), the lovestruck guard who aided and abetted them with a vengeance. Having found refuge in the couple’s cabin before they arrived, the three fugitives have stayed in hiding, watching their ineffectual attempts at murder, before circumstances reveal their presence.
What ensues is a hostage situation and many – far too many – thwarted escape attempts by Dan and Lisa. Thankfully Olyphant, Jardine and Lewis are on the same wavelength as the three leads, their timing and sly comic delivery on par with theirs. Also effective are the numerous flashbacks in Nick Kocher and Brian McElhaney’s script, the story’s many twists explained by one pithy, ironic backward narrative glance after another. There’s no denying the energy present in the script’s execution and performances.
However, that begins to wane in the third act which, as you probably guessed, goes on far too long. Dan can only overlook a loaded rifle or get beaten up so many times before disbelief sets in regarding his bad luck or ineffectualness. The many missed opportunities mount up until they become desperate, while the final dual between our hero and Pete lacks suspense due to its prolonged nature.
Look, I like chocolate, but were I to apply the “more-is-more” approach of modern filmmakers to my diet, I’d constantly be in the toilet. It’s unfortunate that so many modern movies end up there because today’s directors don’t recognize when enough is enough. For the most part, I liked Dead, but once it started to repeat itself, like my dog fetching the same ball over and over again for a half hour, my interest couldn’t help but wane. In Theaters.
Fuze relies on viewers’ inattention
Director David Mackenzie and writer Ban Hopkins are banking on the audience for their new thriller Fuze to have a short memory. This slow-burn thriller has a lot going for it – a strong cast, a smart script, a deceptively effective pace and a big payoff. Yet, there’s a glaring first-act pothole I was waiting the entire film for them to address, a problem that’s referred to in a cursory, off-hand way but never fully explained. It’s either a narrative oversight or I suffered a mini-stroke early on that wiped out my memory of the explanation. I think the former is probably more likely.
A massive construction project in London is abruptly put on hold when an unexploded World War II bomb is unearthed. City blocks around the site are evacuated and the bomb squad is called in, led by Will Tranter (Aaron Taylor-Johnson). As he and his squad go through the delicate steps to defuse the explosive, a group of thieves has sprung into action. Having taken a flat in a building next to a bank, X (Sam Worthington), Karalis (Theo James) and their nefarious cohorts, pull out a massive drill they’ve stored in the building’s basement and begin to drill a hole into the wall it shares with the bank. Thankfully, it happens to open up in the vault.
Meanwhile – and there are quite a few “meanwhiles” in the film – Police Chief Zuzana Greenfield (Gugu Mbatha-Raw) is coordinating the evacuation, when she notices something odd. With all of the electricity turned off in the cordoned off area as a precaution, the heat signature from the thieves’ generator is noticed and a patrol car is sent to investigate. Their arrival on the site causes the robbery to go sideways, setting off a chain reaction of events that results in wide scale destruction, multiple chases and one double cross after another.
Mackenzie takes an interesting approach, allowing the first act action to play out at a very deliberate pace. The sense of quiet that pervades the movie is unique, while the threat of the ticking, then dormant, then ticking bomb creates a sense of realistic tension. Shifting back and forth between four plot strands – as an Iraqi family who’ve immigrated to England, emerge as key players – keeps the story intriguing and constantly in flux.
Hopkins’ script is very smart, containing one twist after another, all of them logical and in keeping with the ever-devolving situation the characters find themselves in. The story zigs when you expect it to zag, but never in a way that seems convenient or unrealistic. None of the characters, even those portrayed by the name actors, are guaranteed to survive until the end, yet another element that keeps the viewer on their toes.
All of these positives, as well as the strong performances from everyone in the cast, make for an effective thriller … except for that one nagging plot point. In the end, the script for Fuze comes to resemble the elaborate con game at its story’s center, one that relies on misdirection in order to succeed. Thankfully for the thieves in question, the authorities prove a bit more gullible than eagle eyed viewers will likely be. In Theaters.
Mummy a parental nightmare come to life
A brilliant reimagining of one of horrors seminal creations, Lee Cronin’s The Mummy is a genuinely disturbing new film that manages to succeed where so many recent genre entries have failed. In modeling the film after The Exorcist, the director hones in on every parent’s worst nightmare, exploiting it to maximum effect, resulting in a sense of intimacy and identification upon which its terror is built. Anchored by two strong lead performances, the movie cuts deeper than usual horror fare, the emotional buttons Cronin pushes throughout making for a deeply disturbing and ultimately poignant film that proves hard to shake after its draining climax.
Working in Cairo, Egypt, as an international correspondent, Charlie Cannon (Jack Reynor) is on the verge of great things. Having just secured a job with a major network in New York City, he, his wife Larissa (Laia Costa) and their two children are about to head back to the U.S. However, tragedy strikes when their 8-year-old daughter Katie (Natalie Grace) goes missing. There are few leads to follow and the authorities prove uncooperative.
Having relocated to Albuquerque, the family has found its footing after nearly eight years. The addition of daughter Maude (Billie Roy) has helped. That is all disrupted when a call comes from the Cairo authorities with news that Katie has been found in the most unlikely of places. Discovered alive in a centuries-old sarcophagus, the young girl is no longer who she was. Though her body has not grown, her skin is withered and scaly, her limbs are misshapen, as is her face, a catatonic look across it. That she is nonverbal only adds to the mystery of what has befallen her.
Much is revealed once the action shifts to the States where strange goings-on occur. Katie shows unusual strength, has a tendency to bite and likes to headbutt anyone who comes too close. And after a pedicure gone horribly wrong tears a long piece of skin from her leg, the first clue is revealed as to what she really is.
Cronin’s use of body horror in Evil Dead Rise was gratuitous, yet here it serves a purpose. This film is not for the easily squeamish, as numerous scenes contain moments of physical mutilation. However, many of them prove to be key elements where unraveling this mystery is concerned, one key point an ingenious twist on a trope from the mummy movies.
While the traditional horror scenes are slickly executed and effective, the film is most effective in its examination of the Cannon family unit. Reynor and Costa are exceptional in conveying the hopelessness they feel in being unable to care for their daughter. Not only are they reluctant to admit Katie has special needs they cannot address, but also that their feelings have changed toward her. This will hit home with anyone who’s had to care for a loved one altered by disease or an accident.
The revelation of what happened to Katie is the most horrific moment in this, or any horror film I’ve seen in recent memory. The feelings of helplessness Charlie and Larissa feel as they watch their child abused cuts to a primal fear The Mummy focuses on to great effect. This is far more than simply a monster movie; it’s the nightmare at the center of the collection of fears every parent has, writ large on the screen, the one that sneaks through when our defenses are down, our doubts paramount. Ultimately, parental sacrifice is revealed at its theme, driven home by the film’s final, haunting moment, a moving reminder of the need to cherish that which we hold most dear. In Theaters.
