KILLER
KILLER (Dir. A.D. Smith, 90 min)
After a pandemic strikes the nation, ten friends decide to quarantine under the same roof. Unfortunately, one of them is a killer.
2021, Horror, Theater/Virtual
Neon tubes give the room a slanted, eerie glow. 10 figures, all wearing hoodies and masks are seated in a circle. There are instructions on a whiteboard giving instructions for a game. The game is Killer, a party game, just like W88, where one player tries to stealthily eliminate their enemies without being discovered. Each round, the rest of the players vote to nominate their prime suspect. Only in this game, these 10 figures are tied to their chairs. And when they nominate a suspect each round, someone really dies.
A.D. Smith‘s new independent feature, Killer plays like a COVID-era, black-box theater mash-up of the “Big Chill” and “Saw” In the face of the pandemic, 10 friends have gathered in one house to quarantine together. As what was supposed to be a simple 2-week quarantine (I remember those days…) stretches on, tempers flare, friendships are tested, and relationships are revealed. Oh, and one of them is a serial killer. Finally, a film that asks the hard question: can you really trust the people in your pandemic pod?
The hook is irresistible, and the image of the killer’s surgical mask smeared with a bloody smile will stick with me for a few nights. Unfortunately, the overall plot can’t quite keep up. The narrative dances back and forth between quarantine flashbacks and the harsh reality facing the players trapped in the deadly game. I love a tight 90-minute feature, but this is one film where I wished we had a little bit more exposition.
The player introductions in particular are rushed – you remember them more as archetypes than people. There’s Brandon, the host. Sam, the loveable idiot. Cindy, the girlfriend. Tiara, the troublemaker. Kelly, the sad girl who just lost her mother. Will, the standard asshole boyfriend, and so on. I wish more time had been spent fleshing out these quarantine flashbacks, to complicate some of these initial presentations. This cast is diverse, fresh, and worth lingering on individually for a few more minutes. The film subverts some of these core character tropes by the end of the film, but others are dispatched so quickly you almost don’t realize they’re gone.
Despite these character flaws, the game sections of the film have a propulsive quality that just won’t be denied. I loved the retro video-game feel of the kill sequences, and the neon lighting scheme proves that sometimes the simplest choice is the scariest. Killer brings horror into the pandemic in a way that is fresh, fun, and leaves you asking some complicated questions. Don’t wait until the next pandemic to check it out.
Emily Bennett understands how to accentuate a feeling of claustrophobia. Stuck in a wildly angled apartment, brimming with eccentric kitsch, Charlie awaits the arrival of her girlfriend behind a front door that won’t open. As time passes, confusion arises. Simone should be home by now. Charlie hears voices, doesn’t know what time it is, and things seem to move on their own. Reality shifts under her, and things get worse by the minute.
Dora Madison, as Thea, is fantastic. She’s got this crunchy, stoner vibe. The way she holds the phone during her video calls with Charlie is incredible. It adds to the realism of her party friend vibe. Madison’s laid-back attitude counters Bennett perfectly. Emma Myles, who you’ll recognize from Orange Is The New Black, plays Simone. She’s the photographer girlfriend of Charlie. The script allows her to play both soft and hard moments, and she kills it.
Nelson Lee, as Ben, gives us a slick, and a tad aloof, performance. He’s the backboard we need for Albee’s ceaseless attitude. Trent Atkinson‘s smart script allows Lee to play many sides of a perfectly flawed man. Bethany Anne Lind, as Carly, is the bright savior figure. Lind wears her heart on her sleeve in an attempt to get to the root of her guests’ issues. Perhaps, to her own relationship’s detriment. Amber Midthunder plays Albee with a fire that is accosting. Breaking through her wall is precarious and revealing. Midthunder walks a thin line between entitled Gen Zer and trauma survivor. You’ll be captivated by her interactions with every cast member. Taylor Gray breathes life into Walker. His vulnerability drives this story like a freight train. He’s so committed to making Albee and Walker’s relationship work. Their pain is palpable. Gray evokes a visceral response. I could not fathom someone being so unequivocally devoted to what appears to be a toxic relationship.
There’s an honesty to this script that will be a gut-punch for viewers. It will undoubtedly force you to confront your relationships. Atkinson wrote the characters of Albee and Ben to have more similarities than at first glance. He did the same with Carly and Walker, creating engrossing dynamics. There are some profound moments between these cast members. Their overall chemistry is the stuff of dreams. 
While the success of this film hinges on the commitment of the spectacular ensemble, I must specifically salute Enzo Cellucci and David Krumholtz. The majority of the film revolves around Max remaining an observer. It is not until he is forced to participate that we are fully consumed by the heat of embarrassment only actors know in their souls. Cellucci’s emotional and physical beatdown creates greatness. As Adam, David Krumholtz is a goddamn character study in CLASS. It is everything, from the slicked-back hair, the robe over silk pajamas, and the pièce de résistance, the accent. The impeccably precise bastardization of a British accent is a thing of glory. If your ear is sharp enough, you’ll notice how it changes from scene to scene. It is, as they say, the chef’s kiss. CLASS is easily one of the most honest and cringeworthy shorts I’ve ever watched. I lived inside every second, and I loved it just as much. I’m still laughing. I am dying to see this developed into something bigger. It certainly deserves the audience. To everyone involved, Bravo!
A story of cyclical abuse with a touch of magical realism, Baby, Don’t Cry was a completely unexpected journey. Fair warning for survivors of abuse, this film may be a trigger watching for you. The deeper you go into the story the more complex our leads are revealed to be. Two young people in hopes of escaping their sad circumstances, latch onto one another. It’s evidently unhealthy to the audience but entirely understandable. Lack of father figures is a running theme, as are racism and mental illness. The emotional burdens that Baby and Fox carry are unrelenting. Zita Bai, our leading lady, and creator of Baby, has given us a thoroughly nuanced character. Some moments will make you infuriated with her, while others provoke sympathy It’s an extraordinary culmination of emotions. Baby, Don’t Cry will make you cringe, shake your head, and fill you with a bit of wonder.
Thanks to Twitter, an estranged and dysfunctional family throws an accidental party on their move-out day. A barrage of quirky characters show up to explore and wreak their own brand of havoc. Wonderful Paradise is an absurdist sideshow. I would genuinely recommend watching this high. The number of times I exclaimed, “Huh?”, “What?”, or, “Sure, why not?! ” I lost count quite frankly. I must applaud the cast for their absolute commitment to their craft. The cast grows exponentially as the film rolls on and every single performer gives it 110%. The slow and district progression of the set is wild. The practical FX combined with the wackiest of screenplays make Wonderful Paradise perfect for Fantasia audiences. It is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Do I understand the final result? Absolutely not. Would I watch it again? Don’t threaten me with a good time.
I feared this Martyrs Lane would be overlooked among the plethora of gore-filled content. That would have been the biggest shame to befall this year’s Fantasia International Film Festival. Writer-director Ruth Platt‘s carefully crafted tension and mystery should be celebrated. It has a quieter Babadook energy to it that is unmistakable. The film manages to be both a slow burn and a vice grip of tension. The editing puts your head in a spin in that you’re never sure what is real until the very final scene. Performances are outstanding. The fact that the entire premise mostly hinges on the work of two small girls will blow you away. It is no wonder young lead Sienna Sayer won the Special Jury Rising Star award. Martyrs Lane will hit harder for parents. Any story centered around children begets that internal ache from the very getgo and Martyrs Lane is no exception. It’s beautifully shot and elegantly lit. The exquisite progression in makeup heightens the overall dread. It speaks to the consuming power of grief and secrets. I cannot wait for Shudder audiences to experience this film in a few weeks. This one is special. Undoubtedly, one of my favorites from this year’s lineup.
Perry Blackshear is the man with all the hats taking on directing, writing, cinematography, and producing. One of the best goosebumps-inducing moments occurs in the form of actress Libby Ewing’s hand appearing from nowhere. There is something so startling about this simple action. Its impact speaks volumes. There is a nice connection between the physical and metaphorical. The fight training scenes are a great representation of emotional preparedness. And without spoiling anything, the devil you know is sometimes a safer bet than the devil you don’t. When I Consume You is an addiction allegory. Whether that is drugs or depression, the weight of trauma never quite leaves you. While the pacing of the film had some static moments, overall this is a fresh take on a haunting premise.
You must be logged in to post a comment.