Tag: thriller

REVIEW: It Comes At Night

Emma Pinchak Leave a comment

Why is legitimate talent wasted on awful screenplays?

Chuckling a little to myself, I chose thriller about a mysterious disease that forced families to isolate themselves from outsiders. I figured I’d finally be on the edge of my seat after weeks of watching painfully monotonous news coverage of minutely different facets of the same story. Turns out I was in for the same kind of boredom I had grown accustomed to in the past couple of months.

Horror movies (and increasingly, even the most confidently-labeled “cerebral” thrillers) have long been a genre that works with the same materials to build a plot. They use the same monsters, the same dialogue, the same archetypal characters. It is so dreadfully rare to find a horror movie that doesn’t settle for mining the same types of basic fears assumed to be common to all human beings. Sure, writers could start there for some aspects of their work, but all too often they also refuse to go further.  The next time I see another humanoid, tall, skinny shadowy figure drooling black goo from its mouth in a movie, I’m going to lose it, and not in the intended way. 

So anyways, this movie is about a family lucky enough to own property a long ways from the densely-populated city during a mass infection event of some mysterious disease. Already, the lack of context bugged me: where in the sam hill is this house located? Who is this family? What is this disease? How long has it been around? What has its global impact been? I kept waiting for the first rule of science fiction to be honored (a logical explanation of the way the world works in the story), but it never was. While some might argue that the vagueness adds to the scariness of the disease, to me it’s an excuse for lazy writing. There is such little substance in the world building the writers do that it distracts from whatever level of terror I’m supposed to be feeling, and replaces it with annoyance.

Though I shouldn’t have been surprised by the outdated, patriarchal family structure in the movie, I was. The dichotomy between femininity and masculinity was incredibly strong; it was made abundantly clear that the men were protectors, women were caregivers (and meant to be protected), and that these strict roles should be considered ideals. Men made decisions, and women made comments that could easily be dismissed. This is terribly common in horror, pulling on the legacy of the old days of female victimhood (King Kong, Creature From the Black Lagoon, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera). I’d thought we’d made it a little further past that. It’s almost like we need more female horror screenwriters. 

Going into the horror/thriller genre should not be a shortcut into movie making for unimaginative writers. There are some who are raising the standards, like Ari Aster (Midsommer), Julia Ducournau (Raw), and Yorgos Lanthimos (The Lobster, Dogtooth), but it isn’t enough yet to discourage the countless carbon copies of a basic slasher flick. Still, the future looks bright.

REVIEW: The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires

Sarah O'Donnell Leave a comment

After finishing this book, my first horror/thriller novel, I can firmly say that I will never read another one. Not because it was bad, but because Grady Hendrix wrote it so well that I was thoroughly terrified. My palms were sweating profusely while reading certain scenes, and I had to frequently take breaks from reading because the story was so intense. I won’t spoil the plot, but I’m going to explain exactly what made this book so chilling to me–and what made it so good.

The title gives away that the “monster” in the story is a vampire, so I expected a certain level of blood, gore, and other classic vampire-related themes. Hendrix delivered on all of those. What he also incorporated into the horror of this story were psychological spooks and very relevant political issues. Yes, the vampire figure is making children disappear, but what made the vampire figure so scary was that you could replace it with literally any white man (think Ted Bundy, to whom the main character, Patricia, frequently compared the vampire figure) and the entire story would still be intact.

The actual plot started out kind of slow. It was only until a third of the way through the book that the thriller action really started to pick up. The first third of the plot was dedicated to meticulously crafting a world in which the reader’s attention was drawn to all of the problems within it, without explicitly stating them in the text. It laid the groundwork for truly horrific things to take place later on in the story. For this, I applaud Hendrix.

Patricia is made aware of the first child disappearances when she visits the woman who takes care of her mother-in-law, Mrs. Greene. Mrs. Greene lives in a predominantly black neighborhood, where everyone is scared that their child will be the next to disappear. Naturally, anyone would be scared, but Mrs. Greene’s neighbors are particularly distressed because their children are black and the police don’t seem to care. On one of my breaks from the story, I was looking at Goodreads reviews, and someone said that they thought the story was tone-deaf to make the only children targeted by the predator black, and that it was wrong to create a neighborhood of poor black people and have an exclusively rich, white suburb. I feelthat this reviewer missed the entire point of the author drawing our attention to race in the story. Hendrix casually dropped little details regarding race throughout the exposition. It was this attention to detail that made me realize how good of a writer Hendrix is–part of the horror of his novel was the revelation of how black people were treated in the 90s, when the story takes place, and even more scary is that Hendrix allows his readers to recognize that America still has the same issues today. The vampire figure was able to keep using black children as his victims because nobody in a position of power would care. Patricia, who knew what was happening, was able to retreat back into her normal life and ignore the problem because it wasn’t directly affecting her or anyone in her rich white neighborhood. I don’t believe it’s tone-deaf to present race in this way, especially because the book takes place in the South. It’s both important to the plot and the construction of its horror genre.

Like the issue of race, Hendrix weaved other really important and relevant topics into the horror elements of his novel: gaslighting, drug abuse, sexual assault, friendship/betrayal, disease stigma, and MORE. I was impressed with how well Hendrix created his story. I fear that including any more details would spoil the novel, because the details are so integral to the thriller plot. However, one major issue I did have with the book was the ending. It was wrapped up very neatly, with an imaginary “we’re all safe” bow on top. While it calmed me as a (terrified) reader, I don’t think the ending holds the same value as the rest of the book. It almost felt like Hendrix didn’t want to write that ending, but was running out of time, so he wrote down the words he thought would please his readers rather than continuing to rattle them to their core. Overall, I encourage anyone and everyone to read The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires, even if they don’t typically reach for horror/thriller novels. It’s written *that* well.

 

REVIEW: 1917

Donald Joseph Molosky Leave a comment

If you’re a fan of gritty movies, then be sure to check out 1917 while it’s still in theaters. As my fellow history buffs know, World War I was an exceptionally brutal conflict of epic proportions, and this film does a fantastic job of portraying that reality. From a tactical perspective, the movie didn’t really miss a beat, although the faceless Germans, as in just about every other WWI film, were characteristically inaccurate with their M98s. The military realities depicted in 1917 moved beyond the battlefield: while scenes of chaotic gunfights and mortar shellings provided an honest look into the face of the conflict, 1917 managed to capture the thankless nature of life as a soldier. Unlike most war films, which seemingly always leave the audience feeling somewhat warm and fuzzy, as the hero eventually receives some sort of well-deserved recognition in one form or another, 1917 leaves even the casual viewer feeling hollow. I was stunned by the way in which the film managed to trivialize the unbelievably heroic actions of the protagonist. While it felt like the film was underselling the gravity of the hero’s actions, it seems like this choice was deliberately made in an effort to more accurately tell the story of Alfred Mendes, the director of the film’s (Sam Mendes) grandfather. In this way, 1917 does great justice to the genre and avoids the trappings of the fairy-tale war film.

1917, while maintaining a strong essence of realism, is also incredibly entertaining from a purely dramatic perspective. Many war films, in my opinion, foreshadow with disappointing ham-handedness, resulting in a relatively boring plotline for people who pay closer attention. 1917 almost completely avoids this issue, as the entire picture is excitingly unpredictable; the dizzying camerawork makes you feel only slightly less disoriented than the soldiers themselves while somehow managing to keep the central narrative clear. 1917 is one of the most unique films that I’ve seen in quite a while, as it delicately weaves scenes of high-octane action into a broader tapestry of depressed sensibilities. Again, if you’re a person who detests leaving the theater feeling ethically unsatisfied, then steer clear, but if you enjoy utterly intense emotional rollercoasters, then give 1917 a shot.

Lastly, I thought that the film, although it lasted 120 minutes, needed more time. After only about ten minutes, the main sequence of events began, leaving me desperate for more background information on the protagonist’s family and life away from war. Additionally, after the climax of the film, we’re given only about ten minutes of downtime before the credits, so again, an extra fifteen minutes of background footage could have significantly increased my emotional involvement. Overall, 1917 delivered a bit more than what I’d hoped for, even though my expectations for it were quite high.

 

8.5/10

REVIEW: Get Out (2017)

Donald Joseph Molosky Leave a comment

For me, the name Jordan Peele will always be synonymous with clever sketch comedy. In the early stages of my adolescence, Key & Peele (2012-2015), a Comedy Central series created by Jordan and his frequent collaborator, Keegan-Michael Key, was held, amongst the likes
of South Park and Family Guy, in the highest echelon of my pantheon of teenage television. However, in 2017, Peele left behind his comfortable niche in the realm of buddy-comedy shorts and made his directorial debut with Get Out, a psychological thriller neatly wrapped in astute social commentary. The film has been met with a significant amount of positive attention from a diverse pool of critics (98% on Rotten Tomatoes), and for the past two years, I have waited eagerly to see Get Out for myself. Unfortunately, I left the State Theater a bit
disappointed.

 

From a purely cinematic perspective, Get Out falls flat on a number of fronts, but most glaringly, I found that the film was far too stylistically ambivalent. Over the course of 104 minutes, Get Out oscillates between moments of dramatic tension, over the top slasher violence, sci-fi absurdism, and yes, nostalgic, Peele-esque humor. Independent from one another, the scenes of Get Out are strong, but the way in which the greater project incorporates the footage is detrimental to the emotional gravity of the film. Additionally, the thematic elements of the film are focused mostly on the serious and relevant issue of camouflaged racial tensions between Black and White Americans, and with such a dynamic narrative structure, some of the film’s more nuanced messages are greatly obscured by the spectacle of it all. Again, Get Out was Jordan Peele’s directorial debut, and at times, the film feels like a somewhat disjointed string of shorts – eerily reflective of Key & Peele.

 

My concerns about the stylistic coherence of Get Out aside, I found that the dramatic climax of the film was set far too early in the story. The first hour of the film is fantastic, but after the second act, the previously riveting tension of the film felt, well, cheapened and manufactured, and as such, the third act of Get Out features far more moments of the stylistic inconsistency that I took issue with in the previous paragraph. From the perspective of the viewer, it almost seems as if Peele directed two entirely separate films: acts one and two of Get Out were bold, chilling, and intellectual, whereas act three felt slightly unbelievable, goofy, and rushed.

 

All things considered, Get Out is slightly above average, but the film’s narrative structure was somewhat flawed. On a positive note, I thought that the cinematographers and set designers of Get Out made exceptional use of both dark and light landscapes, props, and clothing to highlight and reinforce some of Peele’s more abstract messages. Similarly, I also thought that the audio mixing of Get Out was remarkable, as the occasional interjection of shrill, dissonant violin strokes sent my fellow moviegoers out of their seats in fear.

 

6.2/10                                     

 

 

 

 

PREVIEW: Happy Death Day 2U

Laura Dzubay Leave a comment

Directed by Christopher Landon, Happy Death Day 2U is a follow-up to 2017’s slasher hit, Happy Death Day. Happy Death Day told the story of Theresa “Tree” Gelbman, a college girl who is murdered by a masked killer on the night of her birthday — and then wakes up and finds herself reliving the same day over and over. Happy Death Day 2U takes place immediately after (or, in a way, concurrently with?) its predecessor, as it follows Tree after she is transported to a different dimension, where she must again relive that same Monday while figuring out a way back to her home dimension.

Jessica Roth (La La Land) reprises her starring role as Tree, with Israel Broussard, Phi Vu, Rachel Matthews and Ruby Modine also returning. Happy Death Day 2U is currently showing at local theaters such as the Quality 16 and the Ann Arbor 20 IMAX.

REVIEW: A Quiet Place

Laura Dzubay Leave a comment

A Quiet Place is built off of a premise that makes itself known even in the title: The world is quiet. Anyone who makes a sound places themselves in immediate peril of being violently destroyed by any one of a group of sound-hypersensitive monsters that have taken over the country, and possibly the world as well. The idea of a movie in which the characters cannot speak is an interesting concept, and a particularly inviting one for the horror genre, in which so much can be drawn from jump scares and loud noises.

Indeed, A Quiet Place makes plenty of use of these. In this way, the movie benefits from the rules it sets for itself, because in a world of so much silence, each jump scare is that much more arresting. There are other common horror elements at play in this movie, from the horrifying images of the monsters themselves to some of the concepts on the screen, like when the children (Millicent Simmonds and Noah Jupe) nearly drown in a silo and are unable to scream out for help.

But what ultimately makes this story so frightening is the devotion that everyone in the family feels toward everyone else. John Krasinski, who directed, co-wrote and co-starred in the movie, has said in interviews that he wanted the primary focus of A Quiet Place to be the family’s love and dedication, and he absolutely succeeded. He and Emily Blunt, his wife in real life, star as a husband and wife, Lee and Evelyn respectfully, who will do anything to keep their children safe in this dystopian world. Their love for the children is palpable, and small gestures and acts throughout the movie, like Evelyn’s attempts to teach her children reading and math, bring the audience closer into their minds and make it easier to sympathize with them. Which is, after all, the primary objective of so many horror movies, and for good reason: If the audience can come to sympathize with the main characters, then the concern for their safety will be that much more impactful and close, because it will feel similar to a concern for the safety of the self.

Beyond its success within the horror genre, though, the film is fascinating in and of itself, in large part because it isn’t afraid to break its own rules. Or rather, it follows its own rules, but it explores them in so much depth that the viewers are allowed to view them both from within and from without.

The main one, of course, is the principle of silence. The characters are unable to speak out loud, so they communicate through pantomiming, mouthing, and sign language. However, early on in the movie, Lee takes his son Marcus to a river, where the two of them are able to speak out loud for the first time in the film. The way Lee explains it, talking is loud, but the river is louder, which means it drowns out any sound of them being there, and they are safe for the time being. While this does seem to invite some more questions—namely, if talking by the river is safe, why doesn’t the family just move to the river?—it is also a crafty early indication that the film is ready to get creative.

“Creative” is probably the best overall way to describe this movie. Bolstered by strong performances by all four of its lead actors, A Quiet Place, while unconcerned with background information (How did things come to be this way? What was this family like before all of this?), is a skillful look into the strained, meticulous process of preserving love in the face of the apocalypse. A Quiet Place is currently showing at local theaters around Ann Arbor, including the Quality 16 and Rave Cinemas.