PAINT
Carl Nargle is a Bob Ross-like local icon with an exceptional sexual pull for his viewers and staff, but his old-school misogyny and pride rub those close to him the wrong way. Newcomer Ambrosia takes the hour after Carl when he refuses to boost ratings by extending the show. Ambrosia’s popularity skyrockets with her quirky paintings. PAINT becomes a battle of personalities and a search for personal redemption. 
The cast makes PAINT watchable. Stephen Root and Wendi McLendon-Covey are ensemble highlights. Ciara Renée plays Ambrosia with cool confidence. She is a smart foil for Wilson. Michaela Watkins plays Katherine, Nargle’s producer and ex-lover. Watkins displays a down-to-earth vibe. Her warmth is endearing, and her coping mechanism for rejection is relatable and funny. Owen Wilson brings his iconic vocal stylings to Carl. The character is more complex than at first glance. Underneath the fame is a lack of SF esteem and regret. Wilson does his best to save the script.
The pace perfectly mirrors the setting of a PBS station in Burlington, Vermont. The dry humor will hit or miss with audiences. It plays like a Christopher Guest film without the mockumentary structure. It pokes fun at the art industry in a tangible and blunt way. In the end, PAINT is an unexpected love story. If you can rock with the vibe, good for you. If not, it’s a bit like watching paint dry.
Alex Vincent, the original Andy, speaks to his experience at ages six and seven. Everyone boasts of his maturity and the professionalism he displayed on set. Jennifer Tilly plays Tiffany, aka Bride of Chucky. When Tilly came into the franchise, it revitalized the humor as a straighter foil for Dourif’s maniacal Chucky. The creation of her character is cinematic genius involving the Bride of Frankenstein and a bathtub. Dourif raves about her ability to improvise. 
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As a Child’s Play fan, transition scenes show you every minute detail of creating a single Chucky doll, and popping in each physical piece of media one at a time is fascinating. Everyone comments on the difficulty of movie-making and maintaining family life. The franchise structure is a unique chance to reconnect with people from year to year. They become your support system while away from your biological crew. Director Kyra Elise Gardner brings her second family into the limelight. LIVING WITH CHUCKY allows fans to celebrate one of their horror legends and those responsible for his status. It’s killer fun. 
The cast’s chemistry is spectacular. Michael Urie is Jamie, Larry’s fiance. He’s the most down-to-earth of the bunch, with the better part of his screen time in sequences over the phone. Urie can do no wrong in my book. Veanne Cox is Sylvia. Her performance is frightening and downright brilliant. I would watch a stand-alone film on her character. 
Nicholas Logan plays Harrison. His overtly masculine energy, physical discomfort, and aggressive nature are a perfect foil for our four friends. His aura forces the audience to take stock of microaggressions and outright bigotry. Logan handles the distasteful behavior like a champ, and Harrison’s arch is a nuanced breath of fresh air.
SUMMONING SYLVIA is one of the funniest queer films of the year. As a theatre girl, I was in my element. I knew these characters. The film’s climax has a dual purpose that beautifully mirrors life and the afterlife. The finale is celebratory. Do not miss this hell of a good time.
Sporadic blue-tinged purgatory-like flashbacks of the woman in her heels, mussed blonde hair, and filthy trench coat give us little to go on. These sequences are undeniably unsettling. For most of the film, we draw our own conclusions based on the apparent hollowness of their marriage and a suggestion of an affair. Jakub Kijowski‘s bleak, but ravishing, cinematography sets the tone. Alicja stands apart from most of the action, furthering the feeling of isolation in an already stark environment. 
Iwo Rajski plays Daniel with a natural fierceness that suggests he is starring in a documentary rather than a narrative. He is fantastic. Gabriela Muskala pens the screenplay and plays Alicja/Kinga. Her ability to reel you into her turmoil feels effortless. She is magnetic.
Azia Dinea Hale plays Nina, a young phone tech who gives private lessons to Mordecai. Dealing with an unexpected family secret, Nina pushes onward to assure Mordecai that he can take his future into his hands and heal through experience and art. Hale is as sweet and patient as we need her to be. 
Sean Astin is Marvin, Mordecai’s son. Marvin’s confident facade begins to crack under the pressure of his cigar business, Fela’s diagnosis, and unresolved feelings with his father. Astin leaves his heart on the screen. Marvin is a complex person doing his best to keep his head above water. Astin takes each beat with thoughtfulness. It is a carefully crafted character study.
Two dominant themes in The Lost King are disability visibility and gender bias. Phillipa feels a kinship with Richard, angered he has been deemed a monster due to his severe scoliosis. It seems Shakespeare had a hand in demonizing his appearance for these years. The historical digging that happens in the film is eye-opening. She is whipsmart and undeterred in her mission to clear King Richard’s sullied reputation. We feel the frustration as Philiipa comes up against men taking credit for her work. Cheering her on when she stands up for herself, choosing to spread a strong feminist message to young girls rather than chase the fame regaled onto male archeologists on her dig.
The film’s magical realism adds a beautiful element to Phillipa’s journey. It highlights the emotional pull to finish her search. Not to mention how charming actor Harry Lloyd is as Richard. Steve Coogan plays Phillipa’s ex-husband John, a man going through a mid-life crisis who grows to respect Phillipa’s passion for her subject. Coogan is an icon and is no less intriguing in this role. Sally Hawkins plays Phillipa. Her ability to live in a character’s skin is magnificent. Her physicality dazzles. She can do no wrong in my book. Her enthusiasm is contagious.
I feel like SCRAP would do well as a series. Kerr gives us just enough backstory to reel us in, and there is a complexity that drives Beth and Ben. I would love to see more of their childhood. SCRAP allows for a redemption story and one of healing. I feel compelled to ask Kerr for more of this family. The film speaks to a vast number of Americans struggling to stay afloat. It is unimaginably relatable.
THE WORST ONES is a meta-narrative that succeeds in conveying hope through hardship. Not only does the film shine in its storytelling, embracing heartbreak and socioeconomic trauma, but the performances also by our four young actors will hypnotize the viewer. Check out the clip below for a taste:
2022’s reboot thrived by finding the perfect balance of new + nostalgia. While that film could be seen as a symbolic passing of the torch from Neve Campbell’s Sydney Prescott to Barrera’s Sam, it is still jarring to watch a Scream film without Sydney. Especially when Scream 6 is so clearly inspired by Scream 2 (talk about sentences you never think you will write), which similarly followed Sydney as she escaped Woodsboro for a fictional college setting. This time though, Courtney Cox is the only original star returning, and she struggles to provide a meaningful link to the weight of original films. Honestly, with so many of the other beloved characters missing in action, a clean break might have been the better approach.
The much-promoted New York setting ultimately feels a bit underused – filming actually occurred in Montreal, and there are only a few scenes that truly attempt to capture the energy of the city. It’s a shame because those scenes are some of my favorites in the whole film. There’s a moment where Sam and Tara hide from Ghostface in a bodega, only to realize that this killer is willing to use weapons even more deadly than a knife. Another scene on the NYC subway captures the rising anxiety facing the city’s public transit today, where a rise in unprovoked attacks has left citizens suspicious of their fellow passengers. But that’s largely it – it feels like a waste of the setting (although to be fair, New York has posed a challenging setting for horror films in the past.) What about Ghostface popping up in a cab, a chase through central park, or a set piece on one of the iconic bridges?
Michael Patrick Lane is Emily’s captor and psycho ex, Charlie. Scary and somehow kooky, he is like the Michael Myers of ex-boyfriends. Missi Pyle plays Carole, and she’s a real asshole. Her performance is both caricature and authentically terrifying. Pyle gives us rich, tacky, gun-toting Karen energy. I mean, had station is in Tallahassee. Her character work is unreal.
Midori Francis is an absolute badass as Emily. Minutes in, I was yelling at the screen, cheering her on. Her shockingly calm demeanor is all the motivation Sam needs to help. Jolene Purdy plays Sam with zero self-esteem and a heart of hold. Her emotional arc in the film will leave you with a smirk. She and Francis have electric chemistry, especially considering they are never in the same space as one another. They are both stars.
Areal shots are stunning. The addition of out-of-focus camerawork puts you in Emily’s chaotic mindset. The splashy neon colors of the Gator Galore station contrast beautifully with Emily’s overcast forest landscape. Directed by Yoko Okumura and written by Salvatore Cardoni and Brian Rawlins, UNSEEN balances comic, over-the-top characters with nuanced ones and the plausible scenario of a woman’s abduction by her ex. The script is a commentary on class and one hell of a story of gender-based violence. It is undeniably entertaining. Some audiences might initially make comparisons with Shudder’s 
Colm Meaney is the abusive Daddy Whelan, heading up the unsavory local family fixing the cottage. Proud and fiery, he is just as volatile as his children. Jaime-Lee O’Donnell and Chris Walley make the aggressive audience relentlessly uncomfortable with their behavior and nationalist words. Kristian Nairn plays Eoin, the quiet, clearly complicated, deemed “simple” son of the Whelan crew. Nairn gives a brilliant performance, more complex than at first glance. 
Douglas Booth wears his emotions on his sleeve as Jaime. He is charming and kind but channels his unresolved trauma into simmering anger and anxiety. Hannah John-Kamen is enchanting and vulnerable. She owns the screen in her self-assured presence. Her chemistry with Booth and the rest of the cast keeps you watching.
The script is a dark adult version of a Grimm’s fairytale. Costumes are as colorful as the scenery is lush. Gorgeous drone shots down windy roads are breathtaking. The score creeps up on you. The first appearance of the elusive creatures is reminiscent of 80s Jim Henson; think Hoggle and the goblins from Labyrinth. They are awesome in the truest sense of the word. As a person who has been pregnant twice, the violence in the film is visceral. The commitment from the cast is applause-worthy. As the impressive practical effects get more intense, so do their performances. You will find yourself wincing and giggling simultaneously. Yes, it is over the top. And yes, the ending is a real WTF. Just go with it and have fun because in UNWELCOME, keeping the tradition alive keeps you alive.
The plot and narrative are an awkward fit for such an intriguing setting. Troubled young Finn (Hart Denton, toned down from his manic turn on Riverdale) drifts through the town. He’s obviously troubled. His relationship with his parents is strained, and we can tell there’s anger (or worse) bubbling under his quiet exterior. He connects with Eliza, a girl at his school. Eliza is troubled too, in her own quieter way: she lives with her alcoholic mother, the two of them living through a trial separation from her step-father and step-sister. As Finn and Eliza deepen their bond, it quickly becomes clear that he will bring great love or great danger into her life (perhaps both.)
I found much to love about American Cherry, but left confused surrounding its tone and intention. From a genre perspective, it somehow sits right at the intersection of romance and psychological thriller, but that ambiguity was confusing in ways that felt unintentional. Is this trying to be Fear for the zoomer generation? Good Will Hunting with more bite? I felt it needed to commit a little bit more firmly. By seeking such balance, it risks underdelivering on both counts.
Wuthering Heights fans will recognize the inspiration in Frances O’Connor‘s screenplay. Sibling and familial dynamics loom large, as does jealousy. A myriad of topics appears in the script; grief, individualism, and life in the arts. Emily shirks gender norms and yet yearns for the approval of her Father. Betrayal, morality, lust, defiance, sibling rivalry, adoration, and spite play keen roles in EMILY. A particularly sharp monologue serves as a Freudian confessional. It is brilliant and heartbreaking.
Fionn Whitehead plays Branwell Brontë with the vibrancy of a firecracker. He is a delightful foil for Mackey. Their connection is undeniable. Oliver Jackson-Cohen is Mr. Weightman. Battling societal morality and love, Jackson-Cohen gives a stunning performance. His intuition and chemistry with Mackey are explosive.
Swallowed is a genre-obliterating film with fantastic performances. Jena Malone adds gritty believability. To no one’s surprise, she manages to bring charm and intensity. Koch and Colon have spectacular chemistry, and you 100 percent buy their relationship. Koch possesses an accessible vulnerability. Colon’s honesty feels grounded. Bravo for their openness to go full frontal nude. We all know how rare that is, and it makes complete sense given the plot. The film also features a solid villainous turn from Mark Patton, a genre legend from A Nightmare on Elm Street 2. One line, in particular, is slyly redemptive given his status in the horror canon.
The camera work has visceral intimacy. Writer-director Carter Smith (The Ruins) gives audiences a unique genre entry, with the leads being LGBTQ male characters in scenarios we usually see female characters tackle. Swallowed is part crime thriller, part coming-of-age, and body horror. This film is an LGBTQ scenario of nightmares. Get ready to squirm.
It stars Jena Malone (The Hunger Games Film Series, Cold Mountain, Stepmom), Mark Patton (A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge, Freddy vs. Jason), Cooper Koch (Fracture) and Jose Colon (Feature Acting Debut)
One of the most extraordinary and exciting cinematic experiences of the year, GRIMMFEST 2023 audiences got a taste of the uniqueness of Moon Garden. A five-year-old girl’s trauma manifests as bizarre and visceral images as she sits in a coma. The audience hears the real-time action as the doctors and her parents navigate their tumultuous relationship. Guided by her parents’ voices, Emma attempts to escape her mysterious prison world, wading through creatures of good and evil. Moon Garden is an industrial steampunk fairy tale that is relentlessly haunting and undeniably riveting.
Moon Garden is character and world-building at its best. Fascinating and terrifying all at once, we are right alongside Emma in this frightening in-between existence. A bit of Return To Oz with a touch of Pan’s Labyrinth, the magic of Moon Garden grows with each passing second. The editing is stunning. In addition to the monstrous action, writer-director Ryan Stevens Harris incorporates memories, giving Emma the tools to survive in her strange surroundings. It’s a beguiling screenplay tackling love and fear. 
Ashleigh Murray is Alex’s best friend, Grace. She gives us the perfect balance of sweet, supportive, and firey. She’s a foil for Beauchamp. Sherri Sheperd is outstanding as Alex’s AA sponsor Ronnie. This is a fantastic turn filled with grounded concern, loving energy, and wise words. Her calm demeanor balances the chaos beautifully. She is a thoughtfully curated character.
Jonny Beauchamp plays Alex. Writet-director Barry Jay‘s screenplay allows him to show his vast range as he assumes some of Shane’s personality traits as the story progresses. Beginning as a meek and mild, lost young man, Alex slowly becomes increasingly more aggressive. Mike C. Manning (Slapface) throws you off balance from the moment he appears onscreen. He oozes toxic masculinity, helped by his intense workout obsession and the score. Shane goes from subtle to overt manipulation quicker than I expected. He is downright scary. While Manning portrays the ultimate gaslighter, his character is more nuanced than at first glance.
Overall, the lighting is a bit dark for my taste, but the score is carefully crafted and smartly used. The script morphs into a sick and twisted revenge story I did not see coming. There is a complex moral ambiguity that is endlessly intriguing. The Way Out is an unexpected journey of self-discovery and one credible psychological thriller.
Like in The Blair Witch Project, each character goes by their real-life name. Banfitch is the sole cinematographer. The shaky handheld camerawork gives the film solid legitimacy. The sound editing varies based on the speaker’s proximity to the camera, lending to the validity of the experience. With the film opening with a horrifying 911 call, memory card number one contains relatively mundane introductions to the characters. Background information reveals itself in what is essentially Robbie’s private vacation footage. But, you’re so entranced by the opening audio, you become obsessed with discovering the cause of those screams. That, my friends, is compelling editing.
Card two introduces the mystery in earnest. Card three is chaos. 99.9% of the film occurs through Robbie’s lens’ perspective. Much of the explosive final hour is lit by nothing but a flashlight. Therefore, a great deal of what we can’t see paralyzes us. Don’t for a second think that the daylight is any safer. What we do get a glimpse of is gag-inducing and chaotic fear. Ultimately, the ear-piercing manipulation of sound grabs you by the throat. I forgot to breathe. Fair warning: Everything is so dizzying you may get queasy. The script evolves in such a clever and unique way I just resigned myself to yelling. “WTF?!” at each new reveal. It simply keeps going and going. I stopped trying to figure out which way was up. THE OUTWATERS‘ final few minutes made me gasp. If that’s not an endorsement, I don’t know what is. Robbie Banfitch is the next great horror auteur. No one can take that away from him.
The film utilizes classic devices. Mirrors and reflection play a dual role. Reds and fuchsias feature prominently in the form of nail polish, shoes, a toothbrush, Kyoko’s blouse, a robe, and phone case, and most importantly, the scar. I can see why this was such a hit on the festival circuit. WOMAN OF THE PHOTOGRAPHS begs a larger conversation about image and self-worth as dictated by the internet and society.
The writing is perfectly genius, as it disguises the mystery within the secretive nature of the religion. I watch a lot of horror. ATTACHMENT had me on the ropes. I had no idea where this script would land. The language barrier raises the stakes, as important revelations become lost in translation, literally. Performances are spectacular and nuanced. The emotional journeys are lush. Their pasts slowly revealed creating a genuine and curious bond. I could not take my eyes off the screen while watching Attachment, fearing I’d miss the smallest detail. Audiences will be hypnotized.
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