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ENEMY OF THE STATE – On the Run with Will Smith and Gene Hackman [Two Cents]
![ENEMY OF THE STATE – On the Run with Will Smith and Gene Hackman [Two Cents]](https://i0.wp.com/cinapse.co/wp-content/uploads/2025/05/Enemy-of-the-State-Duo.jpg?resize=1140%2C641&ssl=1)
Say hi to the FBI.
Two Cents is a Cinapse original column akin to a book club for films. The Cinapse team curates the series and contribute their “two cents” using a maximum of 200-400 words. Guest contributors and comments are encouraged, as are suggestions for future picks. Join us as we share our two cents on films we love, films we are curious about, and films we believe merit some discussion. Would you like to be a guest contributor or programmer for an upcoming Two Cents entry? Simply watch along with us and/or send your pitches or 200-400 word reviews to [email protected].
The Pick: Enemy of the State (1998)
By the late 1990s, both Gene Hackman and Will Smith were on a hell of a hot streak. Hackman had just been in bangers like The Birdcage as well as his legendary 1995 triple threat of The Quick and the Dead, Crimson Tide, and Get Shorty, and Will Smith had gone from sitcom star to blockbuster headliner in just 3 years. So, if you’re Jerry Bruckheimer and have a script set to team these two up in a “Lethal Weapon for the digital age” spy thriller and you have Tony Scott’s number? Well, you get a popcorn classic that gives you a bit of nutrition in between the exploding personalities and literal pyrotechnics.
The Team
Ed Travis
Revisiting curated Gene Hackman titles alongside my Cinapse brethren and sistren has been a journey through multiple legitimate masterpieces. This is not that.
BUT, I’m actually not here to talk trash against Enemy Of The State. Far from it. While this may not be a masterpiece, I’m very on record that that designation should be sparse. If everything is a masterpiece, then nothing is. It just happens that Hackman routinely either CHOSE projects that became masterpieces, or he actively MADE them into masterpieces through his performance.
I had loads of thoughts upon this revisit of Enemy Of The State, a film I likely hadn’t revisited since the 1990s. My primary takeaway was that “we really had everything, didn’t we?”. What I mean by that is, in the 1990s, Hollywood was putting out stuff directed by Tony Scott, with massive casts of iconic and talented actors. And even somewhat standard studio output like Enemy was elevated and almost revelatory by today’s standards. Sure, it’s a standard thriller, but it feels so much better than most of Hollywood’s current output.
I was thrilled to revisit this immediately after we covered The Conversation, as it’s now common knowledge that Hackman is unofficially revisiting his Harry Caul character in this film. While that is a fun connection and even seems textual in Enemy, as they show a younger headshot of “Brill” on screen and it’s clearly a still photo of Caul, not much is made of the continuation. Don’t get me wrong, Hackman is as incredible as always in Enemy. But he’s in blockbuster mode, riffing against Will Smith in movie star mode. This is a Jerry Bruckheimer facsimile of Harry Caul. It’s not some probing reassessment of the 1970s film, it’s more like “what if Harry Caul blew some shit up”? And honestly? I’m on board for that.
Lastly I’ll note that Enemy Of The State has long been a placeholder film in my brain as an example of a film showing the State to be all powerful; a tale that justifies conspiratorial thinking. I remember being put off by the premise in the 1990s because the tech was too flashy and the government too incompetent to replicate what’s shown here. Watching a barely-pre-9/11 paranoid thriller today, the tech has actually caught up, and it’s likely that much of the surveillance depicted here CAN be utilized. And the police state has only increased. But competence has not. The will and the tech to oppress us is upon us, and some of the only solace I personally can find is that our leadership’s incompetence at least slows down their push towards the fascism threatened in Enemy Of The State.
Brendan Agnew
How fucked up is it that Enemy of the State has almost become quaint? After being circled by Oliver Stone before reteaming Jerry Bruckheimer with Tony Scott, this was not only Scott’s stress test for the hectic and dizzying directing style that would define his 21st century work, it’s also a movie that portrayed the NSA as so all-powerful and potentially corruptible that the NSA Director at the time initiated a public relations campaign to combat damage to the agency’s image.
In hindsight, that’s both cute and chilling.
As a film on its own, Enemy of the State holds up as a breakneck techno-thriller that plays something like North By Northwest meets The West Wing, with a labor lawyer Robert Clayton Dean (Will Smith) getting caught up in a murder cover-up that spirals out of control until he’s the NSA’s most wanted man in America. Where the film differentiated itself was the use of (at the time) cutting edge technology being shown to track down, listen in on, and smear the character of “undesirables” deemed either dangerous or inconvenient enough to the wrong agency. It’s a good thing Gene Hackman’s Brill (a clear riff on The Conversation’s Harry Caul) is there to walk Dean through how to keep the feds off his trail and – hopefully – turn the tables and get his life back.
Watching this play out in a world where we carry computers in our pockets that are tracking us everywhere we go was like looking back in time before the water in the pot we’re collectively in started to boil, especially with the hindsight of how much the surveillance state warned about in this film has become an everyday mundanity. There’s not a lot of gray matter between this film’s ears other than “It would suck to not be able to hide, even if you were Will Smith,” but the story of a wrongly-persecuted black man being hunted by John Voight has gained retroactive thematic heft, if nothing else. It’s also still a wonder to watch a seasoned craftsman like Scott command such a massive production even before you start digging through the laundry list of character actor greats that show up here.
But the real reason to watch is to see the volcanic charisma of Smith and Hackman bounce off of each other, and while the film takes its time getting Dean and Brill together, it makes the absolute most of their team-up. Enemy of the State isn’t a modern classic like Unforgiven or even as well-oiled as Crimson Tide, but it’s exactly the sort of high-gloss / high-concept / star-driven blockbuster that we practically took for granted in the ‘90s only to lament not having now.
Justin Harlan
I enjoyed The Conversation far more than I expected to, so I went into Enemy of the State highly optimistic. Turned out to be even more my kind of action thriller than I initially expected. In fact, dare I say that I kinda loved it?
As a film discussed as a somewhat spiritual sequel to The Conversation, I can see why that comparison is drawn. Albeit, I really do wish that they literally just gave Hackman’s character the same name to take those theories up a notch here. Other than that, my only complaint with this one is that I wanted more Hackman on screen, as he’s obviously one of the best of all time… but, also, because he seemed to have stellar on screen chemistry with Will Smith.
The cast is about as late 90s as a cast can get, though the vast majority of the big names in the film are only there for name recognition as far as I can tell. They do a good job, but very few of them are asked to really show their chops. The fact that Scott Caan, Jake Busey, and the other guy who works with them as henchmen types all had the same goofy 90s haircut was pretty stellar.
But I digress, this is primarily a solid Will Smoth vehicle with Hackman as an unexpected mentor and partner; while real life baddie Jon Voight plays the on screen baddie. Voight is solid in his role, but knowing who he’s crone, maybe so much if it wasn’t even scaring… he’s just honestly politically corrupt and shitty.
Alas, keep bringing on the Hackman. It really just never gets old!
Spencer Brickey
In 1998, Tony Scott shot a tight, stylized political paranoia film that seemed to star over half of Hollywood. In only a few short years afterwards, it became clear that he had created one of the most prescient films ever made.
Following a lawyer thrown into a government cover-up, and the grizzled former NSA agent who’s the only man who can save him, Enemy Of The State is pretty standard Tony Scott fare. Which is to say it is genuinely fantastic action filmmaking that blows most of what we get today out of the water. Tony Scott always had one of the best aesthetics as a filmmaker, and Enemy of The State is no different, the entire world almost always shrouded in sunset shadows, colors popping off and reflecting surfaces shining. Scott shoots the hell out of this, be it a insane car chase between moving train cars, or a heated exchange in a hotel elevator.
The cast is also jaw dropping, rivaling True Romance in the “oh wow, they’re in this, too?” department. Beyond just the leads of Smith, Hackman and Voight, you also have (deep breath) Regina King, Lisa Bonet, Barry Pepper, Scott Caan, Jake Busey, Jason Lee, Gabriel Byrnes, Jack Black, Jamie Kennedy, Anna Gunn, Phillip Baker Hall, Seth Green, Jason Robards, and fucking Tom Sizemore. Just an absolute insane ensemble, everyone firing on all cylinders.
Of them all, Hackman is the MVP. Essentially playing Harry Caul from The Conversation (sure, it’s not official, but, come on; Scott even remakes the square recording scene!), Hackman is all ticks and barbs here, his charm hidden beneath layers of accumulated paranoia and apathy. His help comes begrudgingly, and he doesn’t warm easily. One of the highlights of Enemy Of The State is watching Hackman and Smith warm up to each other, Hackman’s charisma coming out the more they work together. It is another outstanding performance in a career of almost only outstanding performances.
Which is why I’ve always been bummed that I never really vibed with what Will Smith is doing here. Playing a role that feels much more attuned to Denzel Washington’s wheelhouse (or, what was very close to actually occurring; Tom Cruise), Smith never really embodies the character to me. He’s classically great whenever the charm or the jokes are needed, but always flounders when he needs to give off an air of seriousness or being off balanced. He has the classic issue that true blue movie stars can have; he’s just too “cool” for this role. This is a role that needed someone who could be vulnerable, and that is the opposite of Smith’s abilities.
What must have felt like far fetched government overreach in 1998 became incredibly real only 3 years after release. After the 9/11 attacks, the chaos and hysteria that gripped the country allowed for the patriot act to be passed, giving the government unparalleled access to the privacy of the American people through surveillance means. 24 years after the attacks, we’ve only become more surveilled, more analyzed, more controlled. When Voight’s villainous NSA deputy director says that “privacy will soon only be in the mind”, I don’t think anyone watching this at release realized we’d be there in only a little over a quarter century.
There’s just one last entry in our Goodbye to a Great series, so join us for one of Wes Anderson’s defining works with The Royal Tenenbaums.
May 19 – The Royal Tenenbaums – (Digital Rental / Purchase – 1 hour 50 minutes)
And We’re Out.
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BRING HER BACK is Viscerally Uncomfortable and Unforgettable
The Philippou Brothers’ sophomore feature proves they’re a horror force to be reckoned with
Stills courtesy of A24. Michael and Danny Philippou gave the Horror genre a much-needed shot in the arm with their breakout festival debut Talk To Me, which infused possession thrillers with an addictive kinetic energy honed during their formative years as successful stunt YouTubers. With such a signature manic look and irreverent tone, it’d be easy and expected to tackle a follow-up feature by repeating the same stylish flair, applied to similar beats. Hell, A24’s first sequel, Talk 2 Me, was announced weeks after the first film’s wild box office weekend.
I’m excited to report that the Philippous’ new film, Bring Her Back, is very, very much not another Talk to Me. While the film retains the duo’s macabre sense of humor, Bring Her Back replaces their debut’s rapid-fire energy with a simmering, sinister patience. It’s restrained by design in terms of location, characters, and tone. That is, until the well-matured character dynamics and taut atmosphere of dread break into some of the most unexpectedly disturbing and gut-wrenching sequences out there. It’s a rewarding and unrelentingly bleak exercise in darkness–and cements the Philippous as fiendishly inventive horror auteurs with ironclad grips on their audience.
After the death of their sole remaining parent, troubled teen Andy (Billy Barratt) and his legally blind little sister Piper (Sora Wong) risk splitting up in the Australian foster care system due to Andy’s brief yet impactful history of violence. Their savior, former foster counselor Laura (Sally Hawkins) gives them a new home where they can remain together until Andy turns 18 and becomes Piper’s guardian. Laura, still grieving the loss of her similarly blind daughter, is more than eager to give Piper the care she needs…even if it means going out of her depth by taking in another not-quite-child. But Andy and Piper aren’t alone–they also share the home with Laura’s remaining child, Oliver (Jonah Wren Phillips), rendered mute by his sister’s death.
As Piper slowly lets their guard down around her new foster mother, it slowly dawns on Andy that there’s more insidious motivations behind Laura’s gentle generosity–ones that threaten to upend his relationship between the last family member he has left.
Part of what makes Bring Her Back such a compelling watch is how each of the film’s central characters commit to their individual roles, even as the film increasingly weaponizes their prickly and personal dynamics between one another. Barratt and Wong have a winning chemistry with one another, and as Andy is forced to swallow much of what’s happening to him in order to shield Piper from what’s going on, the crux of of Barratt’s role is to convey to audiences the pain and terror he faces even as he tries to remain cheerful to Piper or stoic to people like Laura or other social workers. It’s a challenge Barratt more than lives up to, providing Bring Her Back with nerve-shredding anxiety as we stress out so much about the fate of these little kids. In her own debut role, Wong refuses to let a character like Piper become a prop or danger-magnet due to her disability, exploring the world of Bring Her Back with curiosity and agency even as she begins to question her brother’s seeming selflessness towards her. Phillips’ non-verbal role as Oliver is easily among Milly Shapiro in Hereditary or Harvey Scrimshaw in The Witch as part of A24’s growing pantheon of creepy Horror kids–and like those roles, Ollie reveals himself to be a character with plenty of meat for an actor to chew on outside of silent menace.
But the hands-down star of the film is Sally Hawkins as Laura, making her (to my knowledge) first turn in a straight-up horror film. Hawkins sinks her teeth into this role, inhabiting Laura with a frayed yet optimistic resilience that takes on increasingly dark tones as more becomes clear. As she encourages Andy and Piper to open up to her, Laura’s emotional honesty allows us to completely understand her grief over losing her child–and, over time, how it walls her off from anything else worth empathizing with. As Bring Her Back progresses, we realize just how adept Laura is at using her gentleness like the lantern on a deep-sea angler fish, and how Hawkins is at manipulating where audiences place their trust in a film like this.
The resulting atmosphere, cultivated by the Philippous to sickening perfection, is one of intense, brooding stillness crackling with an air of pervasive menace. If the ghosts of Talk to Me could be defined by their desire to lash out and make public displays of gruesome sensation, the crippling stillness of Bring Her Back suggests that such visible horror is possible at any minute, if not for how much the characters need to keep such impulses at bay. As mentioned in the film’s post-screening Q&A, the Philippous drew major inspiration from Bette Davis films like Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? as far as creating palpable character-driven tension; I couldn’t help but draw my own comparisons to other 60s’ era paranoid thrillers like Bunny Lake is Missing, particularly in how the film makes such a concentrated effort to show just how the leads aren’t crazy, but are instead subject to a sanity-straining mousetrap to the unwitting ignorance of those they care about most. Audiences are squirming in their seats over just what Andy and Laura will do to protect those they care about even before the Philippou’s unabashed love for no-CGI practical effects finally barrels into the fray.
One wouldn’t expect the film’s stillness to lend itself to the same visceral tactility that made Talk to Me such a memorable first film–but it’s still a very sensory film, as Piper navigates Laura’s multi-textured house, or Andy endures physical and mental strains to uncover the truth behind Laura’s motivations amidst torrential rainstorms or sprawling, lush forests. Word of warning, this love for sensation in all its forms is all the more prevalent in two absolutely sickening sequences that brought cheers, gasps, and near-walkouts in our screening. This might not be the best film to eat before (or even after) watching.
What remains the most effective aspect of Bring Her Back, though, is how much the Philippous have matured as storytellers between their already-impressive debut and this film. Without going into spoilers, so much of what would be the interesting parts of a story like Bring Her Back’s has seemingly already happened before frame one; there’s a tome’s worth of lore creeping at the edges of the frame, whether it’s the previous dynamics of Andy and Piper’s family, or the larger machinations of what Laura may or may not be up to. However, the Philippous ensure Bring Her Back remains constantly active, moving, and present for both its characters and their audience.
Bring Her Back is a gentle yet poisonously evil horror show, one that I’m not eager to shake anytime soon. If Talk to Me signaled the arrival of two powerful horror voices, Bring Her Back ensures they aren’t going anywhere as long as we can stomach what sights they have in store.
Bring Her Back hits theaters on May 30th courtesy of A24.
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HURRY UP TOMORROW: The Weeknd Screams in Neon and Bleeds Synth Pop on the Silver Screen
Tomorrow is a cult film in the making
With concert films dominating the multiplex, it didn’t surprise me that The Weeknd AKA Abel Tesfaye who’s music already has a very cinematic language would try and make the jump to the big screen, but in his own way. While I personally spent two hours transfixed in pure cinematic phantasmagorical bliss, I think what he’s released, directed by Trey Edward Shults (It Comes at Night) will no doubt confound and confuse most casual fans. Hurry Up Tomorrow coincides with the release of his latest album of the same name and is an intense visceral and surreal deconstruction of fame, ego and addiction. The film has the artist who’s been publicly talking about retiring his Weeknd moniker, doing so in a visual tour de force that screams in neon and bleeds synth pop.
The film follows a fictionalized version of the singer playing himself on his current tour struggling to keep it together after a recent breakup. Plied with drugs and alcohol by his manager (Barry Keoghan) to keep on performing, we soon discover that all his years of toxic behavior have finally caught up to him and manifested itself in the singer losing his voice on stage due to stress – which really happened. This has The Weeknd fleeing a gig after the incident and into the arms of a gorgeous pyromaniac super-fan Anima (Jenna Ortega), which is also the psychological term for the feminine part of a man’s personality. Their one night tryst shockingly ends with Anima kidnapping her idol and forcing him to confront his darkness, all while delivering a stark Patrick Bateman-esque meta commentary on his career. Taking a page from The Wall, using the cinematic language of The Shining through the prism of Dario Argento, we witness a descent into madness in a hotel room, as Abel is tortured by the literal manifestation of everything he’s been running away from.
I personally found the uncompromising nature of the narrative structure and visual language of the film both metaphorically and visually a perfect match for anyone who’s fallen under the spell of the artist’s tortured lore. Over the years in building this character of The Weeknd Abel has openly shown his love for genre cinema, not only through his music and videos, but his disfigured alter egos and even a house at Universal’s Halloween Horror Nights. It’s a stark contrast to his more radio friendly pop tracks he’s known for, that if you listen close enough are all haunted by a darkness that the singer is exploring here on film. This works not only thanks to the gorgeous and densely layered visuals, but Abel lays himself bare in front of the camera, showing a vulnerability that is both uncomfortable and hard to ignore.
The film doesn’t feel like a vanity project, but a genuine narrative with some intriguingly interesting ideas it’s attempting to deconstruct and digest about fame and power by someone who’s experienced it first hand. Is it great to be a rock star, who’s rich and adored by millions? Sure it is sometimes, but what Abel is trying to say here it’s not that simple, at least in his case. We see the godlike singer ascend to a stadium full of adoring fans, but that can change in an instant, as the singer loses his voice and the audience immediately turns on him rendering him to nothing. That constant need for validation, birthed while trying to fill the void left by his absent father, placed the artist in a never ending loop of self destruction, isolation and vice needed to continue to fuel this creative spark, to write these songs that have made him one of the greatest musicians of our time.
Tomorrow is a cult film in the making that works not only as a piece of transgressive art, but as an artist leaving behind his hard partying persona and looking to the future. The film explores the price of fame and the toll of having to live up to the expectations placed before celebrities in this day and age, that will surprise most with its depth. The film also somehow manages to humanize and allow us as an audience to even empathize for brief periods, with The Weeknd – while not dulling his sharp edges. This is accomplished with a rich tapestry of visuals married perfectly to the artist’s tracks that tells a deeply personal story dodging the superficiality you’d expect, on its journey to get to the core of what inspires the artist and if he can survive it. While I hope folks will come out and discover Hurry Up Tomorrow in theaters — I personally can recommend the Dolby flavor enough, I feel like it will probably be recognized after the fact like most genre masterworks are.
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BETTER MAN Deserves Your Attention [4K-Review]
![BETTER MAN Deserves Your Attention [4K-Review]](https://i0.wp.com/cinapse.co/wp-content/uploads/2025/05/image-20.png?resize=1140%2C641&ssl=1)
Put aside preconceptions and check out one of the most creative and biopics ever made
For months the internet has been stacked with dismissive opinion over Better Man, largely centered around not knowing and/or not caring about the subject of this biopic, Robbie Williams. To put it bluntly, get over it. Whether you like him or not, know him or not, Better Man is one of the most wildly original, creative, and emotionally triggering films of the past few years.
The creative leap taken here by director Michael Gracey (The Greatest Showman) is to depict Williams in precisely the way he has always seen himself: as a performing monkey. At 16, he became a key player in the boy band Take That and fueled their pop music domination in the ’90s. A separation and ensuing solo career saw his singer-songwriter work garner him a series of hit #1 UK singles, six albums entering the top 100 all-time sales charts in the UK, and a Guinness World Record in 2006 for selling 1.6 million tickets in a day for his Close Encounters Tour. He even ventured into a Vegas residency and crooned his way through a duet with Nicole Kidman. Alongside the fame and success, though, were darker moments fueled by his confrontational personality, disruptive demeanor, and substance abuse–all well chronicled by the British tabloids. Better Man is a warts-and-all depiction of Williams’ life and career against the backdrop of nearly two decades of British pop culture.
The script from Gracey, co-writing with first-time screenwriters Oliver Cole and Simon Gleeson, gives you that foundational through-line that you’d expect from a music biopic; thankfully, the end product is more reminiscent of Rocketman or Walk the Line rather than Bohemian Rhapsody and Back to Black. Gracey takes us through the beats of Williams’ career, relationships, family strife, and ever-deepening descent into addiction. Key moments are brought to life with a dovetail into musical set pieces, where key compositions from William’s catalog are married to grand visual sequences. Rock DJ lights up a Regent Street showstopper, Come Undone underscores a nightmarish sequence that wouldn’t feel out of place in Trainspotting, and Let Me Entertain You fuels a frenetic psychological battle royale as Robbie finally faces up to his own self-judgment and doubt. To be clear, this isn’t a purely whimsical endeavor; sex, drugs, and violence are all presented in unvarnished fashion.
Unlike the woeful Bohemian Rhapsody, Better Man does not alter or sanitize the misdeeds of its lead, or his expressions of sexuality. You’re not just reminded how good some of these tunes were as we become privy to how Williams pulled them out and worked them over to become hits, a process facilitated by his longtime collaborator Guy Chambers (Tom Budge). While these tracks fuel some of the more visually and audibly memorable sequences, it’s the quieter moments of the film that are among its most indelible. The time Robbie spends with his nan (a wonderful Alison Steadman), and fellow pop star and first love Nicole Appleton (Raechelle Banno) are standouts. It’s Better Man’s father/son dynamic that sets much of Robbie’s life in motion, with the abandonment and future approval of his father Peter (a spot-on turn from Steve Pemberton) serving as key informers to the damage and the drive that accompanies Williams through his life.
Voiced by Williams, this monkey man is realized by the marvelous mo-cap performance of Jonno Davis. The creation is a marvel to behold, not just from a technical viewpoint. Never acknowledged by other characters, never played for laughs or leveraged into the narrative, he is just simply a visual of William’s perception of himself. From a CGI perspective, it’s not quite at the level of the recent …of the Apes movies, but it’s pretty damn close. The film reworks old concerts, performances, and photoshoots to show this monkey-man at the center of the limelight, as Williams very much was. Robbie is imbued with personality and emotive force, whether glimpsed as a young chimp eating a bag of crisps on the TV with his gran, or a pitiful older form, slumped on a toilet with a needle in his arm. At his cheekiest or his most loathsome, it’s impossible to not feel a tug at the heartstrings gazing into his eyes.
The aforementioned element of the film that might put-off some is Williams himself. Many stateside have little knowledge of the man, and some may find his cheeky demeanor to be somewhat grating. He’s undeniably the marmite of the Brit-pop world. As an Expat, I was certainly more informed as to the background of the subject and the smattering of UK references in the film, from who the All Saints are, Knebworth, Top of the Pops, Parky, and even the endearing use of The Two Ronnies as an ongoing tether between Robbie and his Nan. Despite this, I urge people to take a chance on such a wild, creative swing that pays off in spades. Switching out the lead for a CGI monkey-man in a way adds a clever layer of curiosity and accessibility to the project. Even if you’re not familiar with the man, the film remains a remarkable take on the all-consuming nature of ego and inner demons. As commented on within the film, “How can you be miserable when you have it all?” That’s the human psyche for you. Fame is no shield from insecurities, and Better Man reminds us of that by blending the fantastical with a solid thud of reality. We see one of the biggest musical stages in the world, with over 125,000 people, and the most human thing there is this CGI monkey.
The Package
The 4K presentation tilts towards a more ‘filmic’ look than a pristine, sharp one. Some of the grain and tones give the film a softer look, but it lends to a nice aesthetic. Colors are strongly represented with good range and depth. Blacks are deep and dense too.
The package itself is a card exterior that opens to reveal one of the promotional poster images for the film. The inner liner showcases various scenes from the film.
Extra Features:
- Let Me Entertain You: The Making of Better Man — Director Michael Gracey and star Robbie Williams provide an in-depth look behind the vision and production of the film with additional insight from the cast and crew: Just over 30 minutes long and gives a good overview of the film’s conception and execution, mo-cap work, choreography and musical scene composition, and the film’s release and reception
- Monkey Business: The VFX — Meet the visual effects team of Wētā FX as they delve into the process of using cutting-edge technology to bring Better Man to life: Only 15 minutes, it’s a more focused look at the (really impressive) mo-cap work done to bring the chimpified-Williams to life
Better Man leverages its simian-styled gimmick to craft a biopic that just soars. It charts the highs and many lows of a life not just under the spotlight, but one wrestling with inner doubt. Michael Gracey’s film is a gut-punch, a tearjerker, and a toe-tapper all rolled into one. Put aside whatever preconceptions you have about the film; you’re sorely missing out if you don’t.
Better Man is available on 4K-UHD via Paramount Presents now
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FINAL DESTINATION: BLOODLINES is Grisly as it is Great!
Zach Lipovsky and Adam Stein Deliver a PERFECT Final Destination film.
While Final Destination: Bloodlines may superficially appear to be Hollywood’s latest attempt at digging up another long dead horror franchise for an easy IP cash-in, there’s something to be said when you have not only a great idea, but the cast and crew to execute it flawlessly. With some of the writers from the recent Scream Reboot/Sequel, combined with a pair of fresh directors (Zach Lipovsky and Adam Stein), we get just that with the sixth and easily best entry in the series. The film does all this, while also addressing some of the known issues and tired tropes these films were known for, delivering a refreshingly unique direct sequel to the pre-established canon, that is as savage and as engaging as this franchise has ever been.
Making its first big departure, the film begins with a rather spectacular period set piece in 1968 at the opening night of the Sky View restaurant — think Seattle’s Space Needle. Here we meet the bright and beautiful Iris Campbell (Brec Bassinger) and her doting fiance Paul (Max Lloyd-Jones) who take us through 15 gorific minutes that deliver everything you would expect from a Final Destination opening, but oddly more. Brec Bassinger infuses this massive blood drenched spectacle with some unexpected heart, as her character immediately locks the audience in with her empathetic and courageous actions when disaster strikes and the glass dancefloor begins cracking. In another thankful departure, they’ve pulled back the focus a bit from expendable teens and insufferable college kids, by having Iris and Paul taking the first steps into an adult life together as we then witness everyone – including them die.
While that turns out to be a recurring nightmare haunting Iris’ now granddaughter Stefani (Kaitlyn Santa Juana) in the present day, we learn it was in fact the premonition her grandmother had, before saving hundreds of people that night. Since then however, Death has been meticulously following its pre-existing plan and working its way through the now three generations of families of everyone who walked away that night. It’s something that doesn’t fully click into our family until at least the halfway point, as the series is infused with actual lore this time around, since Iris is shockingly not only still around, but has since authored a tome on how to cheat Death in the FDCU. She bestowes this book on Stefani before her own gnarly death, which somehow manages to be even harder to watch the second time around. It’s literally that gnarly someone in post was like, ‘let’s run this again!’ The other big break with the franchise that really drew me in was the family dynamic at the heart of the film, that elevates the stakes to a whole new level .
While there is some estrangement and melodrama as you’d expect, there’s still an unbreakable bond and a love that you really haven’t seen in this series until now, which really locked me into these characters. Made up mostly of first timers and TV actors, the cast here fully invests in this family and their lives, really bringing them to life on screen in a way that will definitely catch you off guard. Also the fact that we have entire families, with fathers, sons and daughters, allows Bloodlines to go multigenerational and broader than its teenager to twentysomething demographic, which helps to not alienate the older horror fans that grew up with these films. There’s even a few fun twists along the way, character-wise that will only endure these characters even more. The hook here is these are for the most part good people you genuinely care about, rather than simply waiting with bated breath to watch them get what they deserve.
While the original films ebbed and flowed in quality, I caught this in IMAX and the film for the most part held up on the big screen. There was obviously some heavy use of CGI for the flashback period beginning on the giant mid-air structure, but once it got to the kills and time jumped, the film felt much more grounded and practical in its approach compared to other entries. I also found it refreshing that we didn’t keep cutting back to the opening as you would in the previous films, which allowed some mystery to the latter half of the film and also made it a lot less repetitive in that respect. The Rube Goldberg-esque kills here still feature that level of creativity you’d expect with a Final Destination film, along with some truly nightmarish imagery that kept surprising me with just how far they would go each time. For you gore hounds out there this is honestly the closest you’re going to see Terrifier level kills in a mainstream, rated R flick.
Final Destination: Bloodlines is easily the best film to come out of the franchise and that’s not an easy statement from a longtime fan, but it’s well deserved. They’ve managed to update the series, while not trying to outsmart the original films, but instead really hone in on what made the films as fun as they were – crazy, spectacularly insane kills. This all while offering up as a bonus a cast that genuinely makes us vested in these characters who feel a bit more nuanced than previous iterations and keep us caring about whether they will make it the full 90 minutes. It’s honestly not something I thought I would be writing a few days later after viewing the film, but it’s even got some interesting musing on generational trauma hidden under the hood as well, that probably could be its own write-up. But horror fans are eating very well in 2025 and Bloodlines is just that, a blood splattered thrill ride that is viscerally unrelenting as it is engaging, with its story of a family forced to confront the choices of their matriarch.
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Weir Watch: Keep Your Eyes Open For THE CARS THAT ATE PARIS
Weir’s feature debut is a singular, esoteric look at how everything is just so goddamn weird.
This summer, we will be doing a watch through of the filmography of Peter Weir. Right now we are going through his Australian films, which are categorically stranger and more menacing than his later more mainstream American output.
I was anticipating a bit more of a separation between Weir’s work in “Homesdale” and his first feature, the cult classic The Cars That Ate Paris. Paris has something of a fabled following, a film that was something of a rare object but beloved by many who saw it. Amongst those verbose lovers was none other than Stanley Kubrick, who personally ranked it above Citizen Kane in his list of favorite films.
But in many ways, it is very easy to see precisely why Paris appealed to Kubrick. It has a sinister sense of humor to it, akin to what he tapped into most clearly in Dr. Strangelove and Clockwork Orange, but runs just beneath the surface in most of his work. And much like Kubrick, Weir’s early lens seeks to find truth in exaggeration. Just like Homesdale, The Cars That Ate Paris is an outsized brutal satire that is equally deeply empathetic and nastily cynical.
The main benefit it has over Homesdale over it’s expanded time frame giving its themes space to breathe is that it is beautiful. Leaving his scratched up 16mm film days behind, Weir opts to shoot the Australian countryside with a sense of wonder, capturing beautiful color photography that luxuriates in its lush setting all while threading the whole thing with menace. The opening sequence is a perfect encapsulation of this: an idyllic road trip between a beautiful romantic couple through small town Australia, intentionally borrowing the ersatz perfection of commercials. But this then climaxes in a sudden, violent car crash, a bloody end to an otherwise perfect day. Beauty and brutality, living side by side, is the common refrain of Paris, with a healthy dose of observed absurdity on the side.
After this jarring opening, we see the routine all unfold again. A pair of brothers, Arthur and George, set through a similar road trip, only for the car to once again go out of control. Drive George dies at the site of the crash, but Arthur (played by Terry Camilleri) survives. He quickly finds himself sucked into the world of Paris. For the record, if it wasn’t clear yet, the Paris in question is not the location in France, but a fictional Australian village, lost to time and nostalgia.
The true nature of Paris, what is going on and why precisely car accidents are so frequent, unfolds to Arthur as he gets embedded into Paris. He soon finds himself adopted by Mayor Len Kelly (John Meillon), who attempts to find somewhere for Arthur to get comfortable. Whenever Arthur attempts to escape, he has to face his own fear and trauma surrounding driving, and if he tries to leave on foot, a group of punk youth threaten him with cars that have been modded out to be covered in spikes.The specifics from here gets into the unraveling reality of what is exactly under the hood in The Cars That Ate Paris, but suffice to say that Paris is a town that is burdened under a misplaced sense of self-importance. The townspeople laud themselves for being pioneers, but in reality they are vultures who live off the misery of other people. And as time has gone on, the morals and standards these people have grown accustomed to has created a rotting at the base that, with the newest generation, reaches a boiling point.
What keeps Paris from being straight folk horror is its very off kilter sense of humor. Multiple scenes take place at the city council, which consists of four yes men sitting beneath a ten foot tall pulpit where the mayor makes proclamations; all of these scenes are shot from as low as possible, giving the visual impression that room stretches on forever. It’s visually ridiculous, and Weir injects these sorts of outrageous visual flair that cut the tension of the film’s most dire moment. But make no mistake, this is a sinister undercurrent that is the motor of the film’s heart.
A lot of the themes of Paris will be littered throughout Weir’s work going forward. Chief among them is the key conceit of a lot of Weir’s work: the individual facing down the absurdity of society’s demands. In the case of Homesdale and The Cars That Ate Paris, the ring of the society is rather small. But as Weir will go on, it becomes more clear that the scope of who the individual faces down will become wider and wider. Here the menace is localized to a single small town that is run on violence and grift. As Weir goes on, the lens expands, until the whole of everything is shown to be a prison meant to be broken away from.
Next Week: Widely regarded as Weir’s Australian masterwork, we look at the quiet discomfort of Picnic at Hanging Rock. -
Indian Cinema Roundup: Supernatural Telugu Comedy SUBHAM
It’s been said that ghosts are the spirits of the dead who still have unfinished business on earth, unable to pass into the afterlife until they accomplish their final tasks.
But what if that task is to watch the last episode of a never-ending soap opera?
This whimsical premise sets the stage for the primary conflict in the new Telugu film Subham, a supernatural comedy about husbands, wives, dead grandmas, and TV.
The film begins as almost a straightforward romantic comedy, with the courtship of Srinu (Harshith Reddy), who runs a cable TV company, and Sri Valli (Shriya Kontham), a modern woman with a college education and professional background. The pair hit it off and have a gentle affection, though Srinu’s two best pals, who are already married, fill his head with terrible advice about being an alpha male and asserting his dominance as the head of the household.
But Srinu faces another unexpected wrinkle in their newlywed relationship – every night, Sri Valli turns on the TV and zones out watching a goofy soap opera – which seems particularly confusing since she openly mocks the show and its fans.
But as it turns out, it’s not just him – as the other husbands of the neighborhood are also encountering the same strange phenomenon, and soon arrive at a horrifying truth: Every night, their wives are possessed by the spirits of dead grandmothers who won’t pass on until the finished watching Janma Janmala Bandham, an awful long-running soap opera with no end in sight.
Virtually every description I’ve seen for Subham calls it a horror comedy, but while there’s a ghost angle, it’s not presented in a frightening way and certainly not what I would consider horror any more than I would Ghostbusters or Casper (both of which are probably scarier).
The boys consult a medium and try some different tricks to put a stop to the possessions, but finally decide the only way to get rid of the ghosts is to give them what they want: closure in the form of a series finale.
The film is plenty of fun with good-natured laughs, and also has a great underlying message about masculinity and macho strutting: Srinu’s pals, who had boasted about treating their wives subserviently, suddenly become meek as lambs and eager to appease their wives whenever the scary ghosts take over. Similarly, the film clearly champions Sri Valli as a modern woman – she’s educated, professionally motivated, and deserving of respect.
The film is produced by its own talented modern woman, actress-turned-producer Samantha Ruth Prabhu (known mononymously in India as simply Samantha), who also has a small role as the medium.
Subham is now playing in US theaters.
On Streaming: Tumbbad
Elsewhere in the realm of the supernatural, the incredible horror masterpiece Tumbbad, which I reviewed last November, is available streaming on Amazon Prime.
Tumbbad is a chilling and tragic descent into the heart of greed – and also an effective and stunningly shot monster movie. Highly recommended!
Watch it now on Amazon Prime: https://amzn.to/4dicopo
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FIGHT OR FLIGHT Packs Plenty of Punches and Punchlines
I know it’s a cliché at this point, but I’m a sucker for a good in media res opening, and Fight or Flight kicks off with a humdinger: people brawling on a plane midflight. Fists are flying, bullets whiz, a hole opens up in the plane, and is that chainsaw getting in the mix? Cut to black and a “12 hours earlier” chyron and we are off and running. Or flying.
What Fight or Flight gets right about this kind of opening is that it doesn’t just overload the senses. It offers up the kind of wtf?!? imagery that makes you want to see the build-up to that moment. And you know what? The preceding action frequently reaches those same heights. All that to say this: Fight or Flight is a bloody delight. It’s a violent and funny jolt of energy.
The exposition heavy first act sets up the story efficiently. Lucas (Josh Hartnett) is a mercenary who spends his days drinking himself to an early grave in Bangkok. Two years prior something bad happened to Lucas, leading to his current seclusion and spirituous ways. The people he used to work for, Katherine Brunt (Katee Sackoff) and Aaron Hunter (Julian Kostov) need a guy to track someone down in a pinch and, despite having infinite resources, they turn to Lucas. The goal? Catch someone called The Ghost. All we know about The Ghost is that they are headed to the airport and has possibly been shot. The Ghost appears on security cam footage, with their body obfuscated by static.
After a barroom slap-around and some fun techno spy business, Lucas boards the play and begins his hunt for The Ghost. The catch? Seemingly everyone on the plane is also after The Ghost and they all have a particular set of skills. From there, the hijinks, as they say, ensue and they are glorious.
The core creative trio of director James Madigan and writers Brooks McLaren and D.J. Cotrona bring go-for-broke energy to the film that is its biggest asset. After a decade of leading second units on various action-heavy projects, Madigan makes the jump to the top spot for his feature debut. He shows a good eye for putting together action sequences. Given the confines of the plane setting, there’s a resourcefulness on display that is impressive. It almost feels like McLaren and Cotrona’s script is trying to back Madigan into a corner and Madigan is game to wriggle out of it. I mean that as a compliment. It’s like they are issuing challenges and continuing to one up each other. From the minute Fight or Flight starts there is a playfulness that is immediately endearing.
I cannot emphasize enough how amusing Fight or Flight is. The action is violent and shot clearly so it’s each to see the cool stunt work on display. But it’s also quite funny. Quips fly around as frequently as fists, and the jokes have a good hit rate. On top of that, Madigan has a great eye for visual humor. There’s an early moment where someone is trying to hide a body in an overhead compartment, but arms and legs keep dropping down that is particularly funny. There’s a shot where a flare gun goes off inside the plane with gloriously cartoonish results.
Just about the film’s only misstep is that it doesn’t find a way to get Sackoff in on the ass-kicking. Feels like a waste to have her play a pencil-pushing G-man in one of the film’s few roles that doesn’t involve fisticuffs. Alas. The rest of the cast is quite game. Almost everyone onboard the plane gets a chance to deliver a quality joke or punch, if not both. Hartnett gives a playful performance as Lucas. It’s a largely physical effort, what with all the fighting, but Harnett mixes in enough humor to give it a slapstick feel (complimentary). The other standout is Charithra Chandra’s as Isha, one of the flight attendants on the plane. After Lucas, Isha gets the most character development and Chandra makes the most of it.
Fight or Flight is the kind of movie that knows it’s a B-movie and doesn’t strive to be more or delude itself or its audience. It wants to be a kick-ass action movie that also makes you laugh, and it goes about its business accordingly. It lands on the release calendar right before the bombast of the summer movie season ramps up and Fight or Flight is a satisfying appetizer before blockbuster season brings out the main courses.
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SONIC THE HEDGEHOG 3 Keeps the Fun Rolling on 4KUHD
I should say upfront that I’m biased in favor of the Sonic the Hedgehog movies and I always will be. I barely played the games as a kid, so it’s not a nostalgia thing. It’s because of my youngest son, who went through a big Sonic phase that culminated with him wearing his Sonic costume opening weekend for the first Sonic movie. We took him five or six more times in the month or so between the film’s opening and COVID shutdown. The memories of him dressed up, striking poses, telling us everything about the movie…I’ll cherish those forever. That was the peak of his enthusiasm for Sonic, but he gets excited for the new movies and toys. On the final day of the fall semester we took a family trip straight from his class Christmas party and went straight to the theater for Sonic the Hedgehog 3 (henceforth Sonic 3).
The movies themselves are fine, dripping with Easter eggs, deep cuts, and committed performances from series stalwarts Schwartz, James Marsden, and Tike Sumpter, Jim Carrey, Lee Majdoub, and Natasha Rothwell. They have gotten better with each installment, with Sonic 3 being the best one so far. The key to the film’s success is its humor. It’s silly without condescending to its audience, and mixes in just enough irreverence to occasionally catch you off guard. Add in Keanu Reeves as Shadow and Carrey pulling double duty as Dr. Robotnik and his grandfather Professor Gerald Robotnik, and Sonic 3 has its winning formula in hand.
This time out Sonic (voiced by Ben Schwartz), is recruited by the government to help catch Shadow. With the help of Tails (Colleen O’Shaughnessey), and Knuckles (Iris Elba), the trio embark on a globe-trotting adventure. As the series shepherd, director Jeff Fowler keeps the film moving at a brisk pace, hopping from one action set piece to the next. Fowler brings a deft touch to these sequences by making them fun and exciting, without overwhelming the film’s core demographic. It’s cool when you can hear a theater full of excited kids go through each beat of a chase or fight without getting lost. Watching the film at home doesn’t hold quite the same charm, but it feels unfair to knock the film based on a crowd’s reaction. The movie plays just fine either way.
By any objective measure, Jim Carrey is the MVP of Sonic 3. His performance as Dr. Robotnik has been delightfully silly in the previous movies, as one would expect from Carrey, Maybe it’s the double duty he’s pulling here, but he feels completely unhinged. The physicality Carrey brings to bear continues to defy his age. No one will mistake Sonic among Carrey’s best work, but it does serve as a reminder of what made him so special. The report between Dr. Robotnik and Agent Stone (Majdoub) is stronger than ever. Basically, what I’ve come to realize is that Carrey is my favorite part of these films. Despite growing up in the 90s, I have very little knowledge of the Sonic universe, so I have no idea what’s coming up next. As long as we’re getting more Carrey hijinks (a triple role???), count me in.
Sonic 3’s home release comes packed to the gills with bonus features. The version Paramount sent out for review is a Steelbook 4KUHD that also comes with a Blu-ray disc, with both options featuring the film and bonus features. Most of the features are bite-sliced (under 10 minutes) behind the scenes bits and interviews with the cast and crew. The best bits across the board occur whenever Carrey shows up. Everyone else is tends to hit on the same notes, but Carrey is borderline unhinged and completely silly. But the best feature is the commentary track with director Fowler and Schwartz. The track appears to have been recorded shortly after finishing the film and well before it’s release and accompanying press tour. Fowler and Schwartz are loose and entertaining. It’s an informative listen, but mostly it’s just a good hang. They’ve been working on the Sonic films for almost a decade and there are some endearing reflections on their journey, which is set to continue with the release of Sonic 4 in 2027.
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Me and My Interview: Billy Pedlow and Maurane’s VICTIM Narrative
Controversial Fantasia Fest winner tours America
Content Warning: The film Me and My Victim involves the subject of sexual abuse in relationships, which is discussed in this interview. Please be advised.
One of the most provocative, hot-button films in years is the no-budget, nonfiction brainchild of an outsider duo. Billy Pedlow and Maurane’s romantic relationship was disastrous, to say the least. Rather than restraining orders or social media blocking, the one-time couple devised an unconventional concept. Me and My Victim is what Pedlow refers to as a “podcast film,” in which he and Maurane dissect their failed courtship with graphic, sometimes horrific frankness. Difficult though the film is, it is a brave feat of messy, humane art that has wowed some (winning Best Film at Fantasia Fest) while appalling others.
Enjoying foamy beers on a perfectly warm May afternoon, Pedlow and I sat down at Brooklyn’s Niteglow Brewery, with Maurane joining virtually from Montreal, to discuss the thematically shocking and formally audacious movie that their fellow Dimes Square filmmaker Aimee Armstrong (Envy/Desire) says “genuinely has invented a new form of cinema.”
This interview has been edited and condensed for time and clarity.
Emma James: So, first of all, I think this is an amazing, unusual film. The way you approached it is so personal and raw that it caught me off guard. Congratulations to you both on having made something that has gotten such a reaction. What led you to decide to share your story together as a film?
Maurane: For so many reasons. We both knew we had an interesting story. We knew we were able to trust each other and be honest. Billy had this idea and we just decided to do it. He proposed it to me one night, then the day after, we were already –
Billy Pedlow: We were already working on the film the next day. I had the idea in the shower, because that’s where I have all of my ideas. “This would be so evil. This would be so good.” I was just in a crazy, very creative phase, and we were at a reading together. We were both pretty drunk, smoking cigarettes out back, and I was like “what if we made a movie?” You asked, “what would it be about?” I was like, “what if it was about this,” and you were down.
EJ: Josephine Decker made Flames, a docudrama about a relationship she had that fell apart, and then of course there’s Betsey Brown’s short Shegetsey Betsey, which is very diaristic and reflective about a relationship ending, as well as the work of Jack Dunphy. I was wondering, what were the cinematic influences for Me and My Victim?
BP: We were definitely inspired by Caveh Zahedi’s work, like The Show About the Show and I Am a Sex Addict. [But for] the actual making of it, I feel like we had a very unique, singular vision that wasn’t based on anything else.
We knew we wanted it to be centered on the dialogue, and for that to be the vital heart of the movie. What makes it different from most films is the way it’s sort of like a podcast. I’ve always liked hanging out with just one other person and shooting the shit more than with a group of people, because you can get deeper into topics. With so many films, you’re jumping from character to character and the plot overpowers the dialogue. For sure, I’m inspired by films like My Dinner with Andre. A lot of people compare this movie to the Before Sunset series, but I don’t really like those films. There’s also the Woody Allen comparison, but I don’t really like his films either, honestly.
M: (indignant) You don’t like fucking Woody?!
BP: I don’t like the Woody Allen movies! Everybody’s really mad at me for it. It has nothing to do with his accusations, I just don’t like his films.
M: (laughing) That’s like the worst answer!
BP: Yeah, yeah, I know everybody loves Woody. And I love people who love Woody! I think a lot of people who love Woody Allen films also love our movie, so I’m okay with it. But I think, really, it wasn’t inspired by anything. It was inspired by itself. When you’re making an art project, you get into a portal and you start problem-solving on top of the thing you started off with.
M: Also, me and Billy don’t come from a movie background, so that’s why our movie doesn’t really look like other movies. We treat it like visual art. We didn’t really talk about the movie while doing it that much. We were not like, “oh, I want it to look like that movie.” Except Caveh, or the concept of what Caveh does –
BP: Also, what was it, the Harmony Korine movie with Travis Scott in it? I was sort of inspired by the visuals from that at one point.
EJ: AGGRO DR1FT? I can see that.
BP: Yeah, AGGRO DR1FT was in development at the time. I saw a trailer, and I was kinda tipped off to some ideas, like the red.
EJ: I was going to ask about the heavy use of the color red as a motif throughout the film. Does that signify anything?
M: When you see red, you think about love, violence, and romance. We knew we wanted a strong symbol for the movie.
BP: One of the first ideas I had aesthetically for the movie was that my character would always be wearing a red shirt. We did a couple things to kinda differentiate myself from “Billy,” to make him more of a character versus just being me. One was not wearing glasses and the other was always wearing a red shirt. I was inspired by Star Trek red shirts. “The red shirt always dies” is the trope. It’s the throwaway character– the person who is sacrificed, essentially. Also, there’s the whole monologue about the roses, so it all just tied together and gave the film a distinct visual.
EJ: It really does give it an interesting aesthetic. Maurane edited the film in an experimental, chaotic way that is disorienting but very beautiful. The editing is almost a character itself. Did you always intend such an avant-garde approach to post-production?
M: I do video art. This is my first movie, so it’s kind of high aesthetic. It’s just a style I like, and it really fits with the movie, which is about perspective on a situation that happened, and the fact that it’s chaotic and abstract represents that we don’t really know the reality. It has some scenes that aren’t like you’re used to seeing in other movies.
BP: What scenes were you thinking about, for example, Maurane?
M: The sexual assault scene. You don’t really see what happened. It’s more like symbols – video from the Internet Archive, stuff like that, and that way of doing it fits with the concept about how we both have different perspectives. I didn’t want the visuals to remove that from the movie.
BP: We tried to make it easier for ourselves because we knew we had the limitations of no budget and only two people working together when we were living in different countries. We had limited time to film and we had to maximize every day that we were working together. Truthfully, we did not cover everything in the filming. We had to fill in stopgaps, so it’s like a practical thing too. In terms of the way that you’re saying with the red, by picking certain symbols and focusing in on them, we were able to show the full spectrum of them. I think bananas can be silly, like when she steals the bananas at one point in the movie, and that’s something that makes me fall for her, but the bananas are also being eaten during some of the most intense scenes of the film and indicative of an inescapable flavor. We also show the full spectrum of red from romantic to violent; just picking these symbols and developing their entire horseshoe– narrowing in and representing them visually.
EJ: During this intense moment when you’re discussing whether sexual assault occurred in your relationship, the banana is on screen by itself for a lengthy period of time. That’s definitely something I was going to mention.
BP: Bananas have such an aggressive flavor.
EJ: Yeah. And of course, there’s the phallic symbolism too. The way you’ve managed to get around your limitations disguises the fact that it’s a no-budget film. The choices that you probably had to make out of necessity feel like very deliberate artistic decisions.
BP: Yeah, because the movie wouldn’t exist otherwise. But also, they absolutely were deliberate artistic decisions. We chose every shot very deliberately. We are playing to our strengths, essentially. When you’re a scrappy underdog, like I think this film is, you have to elaborate that to show people we’re working with less and doing more.
EJ: You went in the opposite direction of the typical talking-head documentaries with no style. Here, the style and the substance work together very well to elevate each other. It gives the film both visual and thematic depth in a way that, like you were saying, really does feel unique. It’s outsider art in a way, because you guys hadn’t made films before.
BP: It’s 100 percent outsider art. We don’t have any backing. We just recently got some money for this tour, so for the first time, we’re getting a little help, but most of the time, we’re doing everything ourselves.
In terms of the visual elements, one of the things that people catch subconsciously but don’t totally know is that we recorded all of the audio first and then we recorded video later, so anytime we’re in the quote-unquote “studio” talking to each other, we’re literally just mouthing the words. So, sometimes, it’s a little off, but we’re lip syncing. We were inspired by watching old talkie films where they couldn’t record sound, because we knew we had the sound first, and we knew the sound was the primary element of the movie. The disconnect between the sound and the visuals is also a metaphorical elaboration on the disconnect of language that is throughout the film. Even when we’re talking, our words aren’t necessarily syncing up with our actual words.
EJ: Wow, that’s so clever and adds a whole other level that I hadn’t noticed. So, since Cinapse is an Austin publication, I have to ask: for the Austin screening, your Q&A is being moderated by Joe Rogan, basically the most famous podcaster in the world. Is he a fan of the film?
BP: Yeah, he is, actually. We’re very glad that he took the time to watch it. We’ve actually had a lot of talented artists, podcasters, or whatever, who have seen the film and are big fans. But the funny thing about this movie is, even when people really, really, really like it, they don’t necessarily want to step in front of the train and say “I like this film.” There is a group of people who advocate very harshly against the film. Not everybody wants to put their nuts on the line for it, so we’re trying to tread carefully. What do you want to say about it, Maurane?
M: I don’t think I can say more than that.
EJ: How conscious and afraid of pushback in your professional and private lives were either of you in deciding to be so honest in making this film?
M: I was scared for Billy, because that’s the reality. He receives death threats sometimes. [But] when [Billy] and I were doing that project, it didn’t stop us at any point from making it.
BP: We weren’t even sure it would be seen or be successful, so that was a secondary concern. Definitely there were some times that I was in the shower being like “is this movie gonna ruin my fucking life? Will I ever be able to get another job again?” Still, to this day, if I’m applying for another job, it’s like, “do I put this on my resume or not?” I literally don’t know. (to Maurane) You can put it on your resume but I can’t. That shit’s so fucked-up and weird.
EJ: You won a very prestigious award for this film, but you’ve gotta qualify it with an asterisk or something.
BP: It’s a very strange accomplishment. I’ve always been fascinated with “cancel literature,” which is what I call the many essays of cancellation that came out in the 2010s and early 2020s. The Aziz Ansari thing was a fascinating piece of literature that a lot of people read over and over again, because they weren’t really sure how they felt about it, and there’s a lot of analysis that goes into it. I was always very fascinated with the ways those narratives become incredibly divergent. Some people read them and they’re like, “oh, this guy definitely didn’t do it, and I’m picking up on the narcissism of the accuser,” or “this guy did it and deserves to die.” So, as someone who always wanted to make an explosive piece of art –
EJ: (interrupting) Mission accomplished.
BP: – an evil piece of art, it only made sense to do something like that, which would create a similarly divergent response, but now that we’re on the precipice of getting more attention on the film and that it might actually be more successful – and I think it will – I’m definitely reckoning with the effect it’s had on my life. People look at me differently when I enter a room. To even have that feeling when you meet someone is very strange. I don’t necessarily love carrying that burden around, but ultimately, I do like being provocative, and I do like making people uncomfortable, so I guess I’ve kind of embraced it. I don’t really have a choice at this point.
EJ: I definitely think the film contributes insightfully to the ongoing conversation in society about consent and boundaries in sex and relationships. It has something to say that’s very honest and can hopefully be a positive influence in some ways, maybe as a cautionary tale of how not to behave.
BP: We’ve had people come up to us after the film and be like, “I watched this and forgave my abuser. I feel differently about it now.” They feel like their heart and their trauma have been soothed. But for sure, there are other people who watch it and have PTSD.
M: Also, a big thing in the movie is that we drank a lot of alcohol, and I’ve had the experience of people realizing the impact of consuming alcohol or drugs in sexual situations.
EJ: As a filmmaker and a woman, I don’t think Me and My Victim is, as Billy said, “an evil piece of art.” It’s provocative, maybe incendiary, but it certainly has a heart that comes through.
M: I agree. I agree. I don’t think it’s evil at all.
BP: (laughing) I like to think it’s evil and has a big heart.
M: It’s not really evil.
BP: I don’t know. Some people say it’s evil. I think it’s evil.
M: (laughing) You’re evil.
BP: I’m evil. So, Maurane, I wanted to ask you, because Emma implied that we might ask each other questions – what’s it like to work with Billy Pedlow?
M: (laughing) That’s so hard. Fuck. It’s a journey. It’s a lot of fun, but you have to push him a bit. That movie is one of the best experiences of my life, and often when I go out in Montreal, people that have seen the movie or just read a review ask me if I’m still friends with Billy, hoping that I’m not, so it’s a hard thing to live with, because I would not have done that movie if I was not close to Billy. Working with you, it’s hard but it’s fun. Also, this movie is about our relationship and it’s so emotional that, when I was doing the editing, I had a different emotion towards you, and I’m sure you have that kind of emotion towards me, so we have to live down a lot. Also, we had never done movies, so we were learning and trying to film stuff, and it didn’t always look good. Another reason why it’s hard to work with you is that, when we do Q&As – I mean, you just said it, you like to be provocative, so it brings strong reactions.
BP: Working with a boorish American as a Canadian during the Trump era?
M: (laughing) During the U.S. tour, I’m gonna be so triggered.
BP: We have a hot and cold approach. It works out really well for us. For people who don’t like me, they can approach Maurane. For people who – well, no one doesn’t like Maurane. People approach me because I’m actually just a really nice guy when you get to know me, but I scare some people, I guess.
EJ: So, it’s sort of like “good cop, bad cop.” I love the way poems that you’ve both written are incorporated into the film, and the contrast between Billy’s edgy poem “I Want to Jerk Off All the Homeless Men,” which is in his book, Terrorizing the Virgin, and Maurane’s very poignant anus poem. Both are very vulgar and sexual, but night and day in terms of emotion and approach. That says a lot about the difference between the two of you. It’s another fun framing detail.
BP: One of the things that people miss a lot in the film, even though we tried to highlight it, is that it is the second poem Maurane ever wrote. The same way that I was inspired to make a film by working with her, who does video art, she was inspired to become a poet by working with me. I like to highlight that. (to Maurane) Would you write that vulgarly if your exposure to poetry wasn’t me first?
M: I think I have that in me.
BP: Oh, absolutely.
M: For sure, you made me see poetry in a way that I didn’t see before, because I didn’t know a lot, and it seemed boring to me.
BP: The night that we decided to do the movie, I read that poem about two rivals vomiting into each other’s mouths over and over again.
M: That’s a good one.
BP: I forgot that that’s what it is in the movie, so that’s a special detail. That’s what the poem is about. It’s about two rivals in a deep embrace where they’re just vomiting into each other’s mouths back and forth.
EJ: That reminds me of the “pooping back and forth” scene in Miranda July’s Me and You and Everyone We Know.
BP: There’s also a section in Freedom by Jonathan Franzen where the son is talking to his girlfriend about licking each other’s poop – that shit was so good. That’s one of my favorite sections of a book ever. Freedom is also a theme in Me and My Victim, because we have the Budweiser can that says “freedom” towards the end, and we were trying to imply something there about freedom. That was before I had read Freedom, but they’re similar investigations of the benefits and negatives of emotional and physical freedom.
EJ: I like that, so I’ll find a way to cut around it without all the poop and everything –
BP: I like the poop part.
EJ: Okay, I’ll leave the poop. So, once the tour is over and the film is streaming, what’s next for both of you? Is there another Billy and Maurane project, or are you working on things individually?
M: We were supposed to, but I decided to start my own movie. It’s kind of linked with Me and My Victim, but it’s going to be super different. It’s about the reception of the film and my life after it. I’m really excited to be starting that soon. My goal with Billy is to do a movie when we’re like 40. I want him to have a family and be super happy, and just show up in his life and kidnap him.
BP: We’re both doing diverging sequels, essentially. I’m like the inheritor of the true lineage, because Maurane’s not doing a podcast film. Maurane’s doing a more formal film, right? I don’t want to speak for her.
M: I wouldn’t say “formal,” but it’s not a podcast film.
BP: It’s not a podcast movie, whereas I’m gonna do a second movie in the same style. It’s about some friends of mine in an experimental project to blackmail incels into fixing their lives. It’s called Beautiful Blackmail.
M: It’s gonna be good.
BP: And then, I’m also working on a 120-hour film called Don’t Look at Me, but that’s gonna be more artsy-fartsy, not really a formal film. [Beautiful Blackmail] is in development hell, but Maurane’s movie is in development hell too, so we’re on the same page. We should talk about the tour.
M: Yes, but first, you should show your elbow.
BP: (laughing) My elbow?
EJ: What’s the significance of the elbow?
BP: (confused, flashing his elbow) This is my elbow. Here you go.
EJ: Me and My Elbow.
M: (laughing) Cute.
BP: Do you like it? Wait, Maurane, can I see your elbow?
(Maurane shows her elbow)
BP: Put it away! Put that away. That’s disgusting.
(everyone laughs)
BP: Put that fucking shit away. This is the worst elbow I’ve ever seen. Bad elbow!
M: (laughing) It’s, like, small.
BP: Okay, so before you distracted me with your slutty request to see my elbow – we’re doing a U.S. tour. We sold some equity in the film for the money. This might be the only time we’re gonna show it everywhere in theaters until it comes out on streaming platforms. Go now or forever hold your peace. We’re using the money to show the movie all over America in hopes of attracting distribution companies. We’ve had a lot of universities purchase the film to show classes, because it’s such a good example of DIY, no-budget filmmaking. Eugene [Kotlyarenko] has been helpful. I love Eugene.
M: And Cass[idy Grady]!
BP: And Cass has helped with the promotion. We’re just going around showing it everywhere we can. I literally Shark Tank pitched a guy I work with about how I was trying to sell equity in the movie for a tour, and he was like “I wanna do it.” This movie has continually been a process of doing everything ourselves. I just wanna hammer home that nobody does it like us. This is the only outsider film.
Me and My Victim is currently touring the United States with directors Billy Pedlow and Maurane. Tour dates are below:
May 11 – Small Works Gallery, Philadelphia, PA
May 13 – Aurora Chapel, Houston, TX
May 15 – We Luv Video, Austin, TX
May 22 – The Virgil, Los Angeles, CA
May 25 – Roxie Theater, San Francisco, CA
May 28 – KGB Bar, New York City, NY
