I WAS A SIMPLE MAN
I Was A Simple Man is a ghost story set in the pastoral countryside of the north shore of O‘ahu, Hawai‘i. Revealed in four chapters, it tells the story of an elderly man facing the end of his life, visited by the ghosts of his past. Incorporating familial history and mythology, dream logic, and surrealism, I Was a Simple Man is a time-shifting, kaleidoscopic story of a fractured family facing the death of their patriarch that will take us from the high-rises of contemporary Honolulu to pre-WWII pastorals of O‘ahu and, finally, into the beyond.
Masao is coming to terms with his mortality in a quietly epic fashion. They say your life flashes before your eyes when you are about to die. In Masao’s case, we are a party to the type of man he was years ago. He is ushered into death by the ghost of his wife Grace, who takes him on a journey through time. There is a bit of a Christmas Carol quality, as Grace brings him into the memories of different and defining times. We come to learn his shortcomings, self-sabotage, doubt, adoration for his wife, and finally, acceptance of his fate.
Constance Wu, as Grace, exudes elegance and patience. She’s part ghost and pure angel. Our leading man, Steve Iwamoto, playing the present incarnation of Masao, is captivating. He fills each frame with pensive presence. He is unafraid of the physicality of Masao.
It’s clear from the opening scene that I Was A Simple Man isn’t merely Masao’s story but also a commentary about the colonization of Hawaii. The lush landscape split in two; the top half is nothing but untouched flora, while the bottom half of the city frames are shiny highrise buildings. In quiet moments, we hear the sounds of nature; the wind, crickets, birds, waves, and even some waining dialogue. This film is an ode to the island. The stillness choreographed into many scenes feels meaningful.
Experiencing the juxtaposition of generational reckoning with Masao’s condition is meaningful in a way that will resonate with those who’ve ever watched a loved one pass. It brings feelings of disdain, sadness, confusion, and grief. I Was A Simple Man is a gorgeous catharsis on film.
The cinematography is gorgeous. The setting, the costumes, everything pops. The main set is magical. The walls adorned with landscape paintings, the massive rooms filled with antique furnishings, and the ceilings boast curious murals. The score is perfectly whimsical. The stunning fx makeup is never too terrifying for its intended audience. 
Each segment of the film has a very different tone. The early scenes on the farm (where, years earlier, Josiah’s wife mysteriously committed suicide) are filled with eerie unease. Josiah and Thomas’ relationship is tense and cold. It feels very much like a haunted house film. I feel like Robert Patrick has been playing supremely creepy characters for my whole lifetime – he slips into these roles without even trying. There’s a scene where Josiah gives Thomas some fatherly advice that is some of Patrick’s most squirm-inducing work to date.
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.
Catherine Keener is a mother mired in grief. As Claire, she looks for answers in Will, the only remaining connection to her son. The stages are all present in her weary tone of voice and mannerisms. The justifiable anger and emptiness become a shared experience through her. Charlie Heaton, as Will, sits on the fence of morality as a former addict wracked with survivor’s guilt. He carries the burden of past transgressions in his daily struggle to stay clean. Knowing that he’s hiding the truth from Claire eats at his soul. Heaton’s vulnerability will say shake you to your core. It’s award-worthy.
Larry Fessenden plays Former Attorney General Dan Lieberman. He’s a legend, so it’s no surprise that what is essentially equivalent to a radio play for him is an outstanding performance. Zachary Booth, as Jake, has fearless energy and an intoxicating excitement that passes through the screen to the viewer. I would watch him in anything.
Your pulse will be pounding watching this mystery unfold through live, minute-to-minute editing. If you didn’t respect the process of editing before now, 
Greg Schweers
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.
*Warning – this review contains light spoilers*
Woof. That finale would have been tough for any sequel to top, but I was comforted by the fact that many of the same players that made 2018’s entry so successful had returned for 2021’s Halloween Kills (the 2nd entry in a planned trilogy, with Halloween Ends already penciled in for next year.) And, for the first 15 minutes, Halloween Kills is up to the challenge. It doesn’t take us back to Michael in that burning building but instead flashes back to the original night of carnage back in 1978. Here, Green mirrors much of the visual norms of Carpenter’s original film to great effect. It’s a shot of nostalgic adrenaline.
What I don’t understand about this tone shift is why Green would abandon the core tenants of what made his previous film so successful. Maybe he was bored by the previous film’s pacing? Maybe he fell victim to studio pressures to continue to amp things up for a sequel. Whatever the rationale, it was a mistake.
South Of Heaven is a film that takes many unexpected turns from drama to crime thriller. Newly released from prison, Jimmy makes good on a promise to long time girlfriend, Annie. He wants to marry her before she passes from cancer, live a clean life, and then figure it out from there. Obstacles get in his way at every turn. South Of Heaven proves the old saying, “No good deed goes unpunished.” Frankly, that’s only half of it.
Jason Sudeikis‘s work in 
The film, as a whole, is uneven. Part of me believes this would fair far better in series form. The beginning is a slow-burn relationship story. The upside of that is our genuine investment in the love between Jimmy and Annie. When the crime element appears, you think you know where this is going. Suddenly, we are thrown an extreme curveball halfway through. The final 30 minutes is another entirely new act. It’s a darkness I did not see coming. If you can get comfortable being uncomfortable, South Of Heaven will be right up your alley.
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