Moments into Martin Scorsese’s (TheIrishman, Silence, The Wolf of Wall Street) masterful, magisterial adaptation of David Grann’s 2017 non-fiction book of the same name, Mollie Kyle (Lily Gladstone, revelatory), sits quietly in a dusty, airless office overlooking an unpaved road in Pawhuska, the city and county seat of Osage County in Oklahoma (circa 1920). Without onscreen prompting from her court-appointed “guardian,” a suit dressed as an older, avuncular white man who, by force of law, controls her income, Mollie names herself, her tribal affiliation (Osage), the allotment number set aside for her under the law, and lastly, a stinging, demeaning, caustic word, “incompetent.” For Mollie, it’s ritualized humiliation; it’s also the only way she can access her own money.
Words have meaning; words backed by the force of law, specifically American law of the early 20th century, classified Molly, her immediate family, and every member of the Osage Nation, displaced from Arkansas and Missouri by the United States government, left in the inhospitable flatlands of Oklahoma to fend for themselves, as “incompetent” once black gold (i.e., oil) was found on Osage lands. By law, each member of the Osage Nation received the headrights, rights to oil and mineral under tribal land, with royalties paid regularly to the Osage from American oil companies.
What the law gave (royalties), it also immediately abrogated, creating an infinitely corruptible system where, through a stroke of a pen, each Osage was declared “incompetent,” incapable of handling his or her personal affairs. A guardian, usually white, usually a lawyer or local businessman, had the authority to approve (or disapprove) expenditures, thus setting up the ritual Mollie and every member of the Osage had to undergo regularly to access the money that was otherwise rightfully theirs. Apple StudiosAnd with all that wealth, once the highest per capita in the United States, men like Ernest Burkhart (Leonardo DiCaprio), a dim, under-educated WWI veteran, arrived on the trains that brought men, animals, and other materials to Osage lands, ostensibly to fill the demands of the oil companies who ceaselessly exploited Osage land for oil. Burkhart, however, had an in, a connection via William Hale (Robert De Niro), a local businessman, rancher, and self-appointed “friend” to the Osage. Hale was anything but a friend. Instead, in a turn familiar to anyone with even passing knowledge of Scorsese’s oeuvre, the head of a criminal enterprise (the CEO as it where), convinces Burkhart first to romance and marry Molly and later to participate as a knowing, willing co-conspirator in the “Reign of Terror” against the Osage Nation.
The furrowed brow, clenched-jaw Burkhart DiCaprio — an acquired taste here more than elsewhere — gives us rarely falls on the right side of sympathetic or root-worthy. He’s not a hero nor even an anti-hero. Every action, every non-action where action was the better, more ethical, or moral choice, leads inexorably to the loss of his soul. Only his conditional love for Mollie, like everything else corrupted by Hale’s influence, comes close to redeeming him. But in the battle between greed and love, between morality and capitalism, Burkhart repeatedly chooses against Mollie, by inaction and later inaction allowing every possible injustice against Mollie and her family to unfold with his implicit or explicit participation.
A penetrating, incisive character study set across an epic Western canvas courtesy of frequent Scorsese collaborator and cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto and legendary production designer Jack Fisk (The Tree of Life, There Will Be Blood, Days Of Heaven), Killers of the Flower Moon anchors its otherwise sprawling story in the characters of Mollie, Burkhart, and Hale, with Mollie’s literal survival, along with the survival of her children with Burkhart, set against the rapacious greed and hubris of Burkhart himself and his uncle, the personification of early 20th-century capitalism, unfettered by law (or so he believes) and practice (he runs the town of Fairfax as a fiefdom and prefers to be called “King” by his family).
As Mollie, Lily Gladstone delivers a finely honed, layered performance, often dependent less on words — as Mollie must always keep her own counsel, careful in whom she trusts and when —but in her expressivity, on conveying Mollie’s complex, conflicted life. Gladstone makes Mollie’s acquiescence, first in the romance with the penniless Burkhart, and later, as the people closest to her begin to die in violent or mysterious ways and she suspects Burkhart’s role in the wide-ranging, Anti-Osage conspiracy, painfully persuasive. Her agency and autonomy might be circumscribed by law, gender and racial constructions, and social practice, but within that narrowly prescribed freedom, she continually chooses to love Burkhart.
Mollie’s initially unwavering belief in Burkhart slowly crumbles over Killers of the Flower Moon’s generous running time as her husband’s actions become increasingly questionable, but that doesn’t make her any less of a tragic figure. In fact, it makes her more of one, acquiescing, at least in part, in her own gaslighting, actively choosing to believe in Burkhart’s good nature rather than the opposite. It’s that same unconditional love that Hale, driven by economic forces even he can barely understand, attempts to leverage, using his own nephew to exponentially increase his wealth.
For Hale, like so many millionaires of his time and tech billionaires of ours, the word “enough” doesn’t exist as part of his vocabulary. Enough is never enough. More is always the goal. Wealth, power, and privilege mean nothing unless they can be wielded in a zero-sum game (more for him, less for everyone else). From one perspective, Hale represents the apotheosis of the mafiosos, capos, and hangers-on across Scorsese’s oeuvre, representatives of both patriarchal culture and a ruthlessly exploitative economic system. Perhaps controversially, Burkhart emerges as a tragic figure himself, too easily manipulated, too easily controlled, rejecting a life well-lived for the approval of a father figure, his uncle, that will never come.
The last hour and a half shifts the narrative calculus in favor of Mollie, partly through her actions (a self-paid trip to Washington, D.C. for a meeting with then president Calvin Coolidge to request federal help), and partly through the arrival of Tom White (Jesse Plemons), an ex-Texas Ranger turned field agent for the Bureau of Investigation (later the FBI). A classic Western lawman, White’s presence eventually leads to more bloodletting as Hale, immediately sensing White’s incorruptibility and methodical nature, begins to tie up loose ends.
A long-awaited trial shifts the focus again and it’s here, led by a mix of well-cast thespians (John Lithgow) and miscast ones (Oscar winner Brendan Fraser for one example), that Killers of the Flower Moon stumbles once or twice, though never for long and never fatally, saving one last, devastating, heart-crushing meeting between a resilient Mollie, fully aware of the crimes committed against her family and the Osage people, and a despondent Burkhart, seemingly repentant of his role in those crimes, where the truth, free of the comforting fictions Burkhart has told himself and others, finally takes center stage.
It almost reads — and certainly feels – like Mollie and Burkhart aren’t just two historical figures brought to complex, contradictory life by one of the living masters of the cinema, but as representative of the duality inherent in the American experience, of the ideals embedded in the U.S. Constitution taught to American students and the repeated failures to live up to those ideals. In that last, brief encounter, Scorsese wants nothing more than for us, individually and collectively, to set aside historical falsehoods, embrace historical truth in its imperfect totality, and continue striving toward those ideals. It’s a simple, but no less urgent message.
Killers of the Flower Moon opens theatrically on Friday, October 20th. A streaming release on AppleTV+ will follow at a later time.
Benoît Magimel and Virginie Efira in REVOIR PARIS. Courtesy Music Box Films.
After her brother survived the 2015 Bataclan attacks, writer/filmmaker Alice Winocour wanted to make a film about that experience. Several years later, her Revoir Paris places characters in a fictionalized terrorist attack on a Parisian restaurant. Mia, played by Virginie Efira (Other People’s Children, also a 2023 release), makes a quick decision to stop in for a drink to get out of the rain. The horrific events she suffers through there lead to a sort of amnesia about the evening; fragments of memory appear to her through the span of the work as she tries to piece together what happened.
Winocour’s film focuses on the community of survivors that forms after the attack, the trauma bonding this group of folks from different backgrounds who lived through or lost family members that night. Mia’s partner Vincent (Grégoire Colin) wasn’t there and is frustrated that he doesn’t know how best to support her. She finds solace with handsome, wry Thomas (Benoît Magimel) who’d been at the café with work friends celebrating his birthday. She helps Félicia (Nastya Golubeva Carax), whose parents were killed that night, to grieve. She seeks help from Sara (Maya Sansa) about the chronology of specific events and begins a search for someone who calmed her during the attack.
Virginie Efira in REVOIR PARIS. Courtesy Music Box Films.
The layered composition of the storytelling weaves in other voices recalling their memories of the night. While her memories slowly return, faces of the dead from the café appear to Mia in her daily life, as if the souls are encouraging her to remember. In one of the DVD special features, Efira speaks of playing Mia as a “living ghost.”
By not allowing much screen time for the attackers, Winocour’s film centers the voices and experiences of the victims. There’s a certain power in seeing Mia reclaim her memory and begin to look forward. Revoir Paris feels like a meditation and reflection, from the incorporation of Arvo Part’s quiet yet slightly jarring Fratres — which opens and closes the film — to the editing which carefully interlaces the shards of memory into the larger story. The team behind Revoir Paris craft a tender, contemplative film which leaves the viewer with a sense of hope.
an interview with director Winocour, who speaks about her inspiration for the film, the community among survivors, and “the diamond in the trauma.”
an interview with Efira, who expresses appreciation for the subjective view and immersive experience of the film.
a Cannes interview with Winocour and actor Magimel. They talk about Thomas’ “inner contradictions” and the film’s central love story. Winocour also mentions that the fake memorials set up by the film’s crew confused residents of the city.
a post-screening Q&A with Winocour and Magimel from Cannes
The piece below was written during the 2023 SAG-AFTRA strike. Without the labor of the actors currently on strike, the art being covered in this piece wouldn’t exist.
A misfire by any another name is still a misfire and Foe, Garth Davis’s adaptation of Iain Reid’s (I’m Thinking of Ending Things) well-reviewed 2018 novel, passes — or rather fails — every storytelling-related test. Repeatedly undermined by deliberately opaque storytelling, woefully under-motivated character development, and, at best, a loosely connected, dystopian backdrop, Foe falls short on every level. It also badly misuses and even wastes Saoirse Ronan and Paul Mescal, both among the best performers of their generation, making the why (as in “Why was Foe made in the first place?”) almost as inscrutable as the storytelling decisions behind that particular why.
Paul Mescal and Saoirse Ronan in FOE.
Foe opens unpromisingly with a title card laying out a dystopian future involving irreversible climate change, off-world, corporate-controlled exploration, and humanoid AI (i.e., androids), before switching focus to a young American couple, Hen (Ronan) and Junior (Mescal), somewhere in the American Midwest (Melbourne and South Australia). Married for seven years and living a tech-free, subsistence on Junior’s family farm — where, we soon learn, farming isn’t possible due to lack of water and the arid, unforgiving landscape — they’re guided by, for Hen, mind-numbing, soul-crushing routine and, for him, mind-soothing, soul-elevating routine.
Hen and Junior represent a classic couple type: Married too young, dependent on physical passion now spent, and moving in opposite directions, if not physically, then emotionally, spiritually, and metaphorically. It’s almost enough for Foe (a title that’s never adequately explained) to simply set out a series of vignettes or scenes from a fractured, fracturing marriage, but eventually the sci-fi, dystopian elements make an appearance in the form of Terrance (Aaron Pierre), a smiling, over-gregarious representative for OuterMore, a multinational company spearheading the eventual move of humanity into a fully functioning orbiting space station and from there, parts unknown.
Cagey and ambiguous to a fault, Terrance arrives with a proposition Hen and Junior can’t refuse: A two-year contract for Junior on the space station as part of a continuing test or experiment centered on long-term, outer-space survival. While both Hen and Junior resist Terrance’s offer, regardless of whatever remuneration it includes, he’s quick to remind them that the alternative, conscription, remains available. In one of the most chilling, if obvious, lines of dialogue, Terrance reminds Hen and Junior that OuterMore isn’t just a corporation. In essence and function, it’s also the government.
With no realistic escape available, Hen and Junior spend the next year waiting for Junior’s literal number to be called. Over time, the prospect of an enforced separation brings them closer, rekindling the long-dormant sparks in their relationship. When Terrance, however, shows up again after a year to inform Junior that he’s been selected for space work and has all of two weeks to prepare, Hen and Junior, knowing resistance is futile, attempt to emotionally ready themselves for their forced separation.
The rub — such as it is — arrives in Terrance’s promise that Hen won’t be left alone during Junior’s prolonged absence, but a suitable replacement, a bio-engineered duplicate created in Junior’s image, will replace him for the duration of the contract. Over the next two, last weeks, Terrance will subject Junior to a series of odd tests, some physical, mostly personal and psychological, of Junior’s psyche so his double will mirror him in all the key measurables. The impending arrival of the double, along with the increasing strain on Hen and Junior’s relationship, forms the back half of Foe’s ponderous, flaccid, ultimately bloated running time.
The underlying ethical and moral dilemma regarding sentient, self-aware duplicates and what, if anything, happens to them after they’re no longer useful, hangs imperceptibly, just out of reach — hinted at, but never fully or even partially restored. Instead, David, closely following Reid’s novel, embraces a third-act reveal that isn’t much of one, at least not for anyone who’s either read the novel or simply paid attention over Foe’s previous 80 minutes. The reveal contains a singular moment of shock, but it’s just that: a moment meant to shock the audience (assuming, of course, they’re still paying attention). And with another 20 minutes left in Foe’s overlong, unjustified running time, it’s all narrative downhill from there to the predictable final shot and the merciful arrival of the end credits.
Foe premiered at the New York Film Festival on September 30th. A general release in North America will follow on Friday, October 13th.
Warning: If you’d rather not be spoiled, I would skip this review until you’ve seen the film.
The Wait (La Espera) is a sundrenched rural thriller that drips with a sweltering atmosphere as it tells the story of Eladio (Víctor Clavijo) a humble groundskeeper charged with watching over the rural Spanish hunting grounds of Don Francisco. The area is divided into 10 hunting areas to avoid accidents, but three years into his charge, Don Carlos (Francisco’s 2nd in command) offers him a bribe to add an additional three hunting areas for an upcoming, overbooked hunt. Eladio is a simple and honest man, and initially hesitates, but after his wife calls him a coward, he relents and his fortune is forever changed for the worse when his son is accidentally killed in crossfire during the hunt. The Wait is a film that, like a hot day, slowly takes hold of you, overwhelming you by the its end.
Director F. Javier Gutierrez crafts a sweltering fever dream of a narrative as the film begins its descent into madness as soon as the humble groundskeeper takes the bribe, which up until then is a pretty straightforward tale. From there the film makes its way into some surprising crevices of the human psyche thanks to a rather impressive performance by Clavijo, as we get to see the film turn some eerie supernatural corners. It’s something that’s contingent on the first two acts being very grounded, that the narrative makes an impressive jump into something much more in the vein of folk horror in its final beats. Its deliberately paced execution until this moment is a sight to behold as Eladio slowly uncovers the trap set before him and his family, that he triggered the moment he succumbed to temptation.
The Wait is a compelling slow burn that seamlessly evolves from crime thriller, to acid western, and finally folk horror without missing a beat. It’s not an easy transition, but Gutierrez confidently changes gears in a third act that goes from Sicario to The Wicker Man as all the pieces finally fall into place around our helpless protagonist. It’s a testament to Clavijo’s performance since he also goes through his own transformation as the film thematically touches on morality, addiction and the cyclic nature or poverty and oppression in rural impoverished areas. While I really had no expectations before sitting down, I was genuentley taken with what transpired in the film that is as much a moral play as it is a psychological one with its story of one man’s descent into his own hell.
Being based in Austin, a large contingent of the Cinapse crew were able to attend 2023’s edition of Fantastic Fest. We’ve gathered everyone together here to go through their top 5 favorite films they saw with a short summary of why they liked them.
Ed Travis
One-Percenter – Pair up action star Tan Sakaguchi in top form (and in person at the fest doing live Jeet Kun Do) with action director Kensuke Sonomura in a JCVD-style action film with as many laughs as fistfights and paying so much homage to martial arts cinema, and I just have to count this as one of my top films of the festival. Link to full review.
Kill – India’s answer to The Raid, action fans are going to be talking about Kill all year long and I think it’ll cement a place for itself in action cinema history once the whole world is able to see it. Stripped down and gnarly, Kill has no time for song and dance numbers. Link to full review.
Project Silence – Classic disaster movie meets South Korean sensibilities, and throw in a pack of government-trained killer dogs to boot. That elevator pitch for Project Silence doesn’t do it nearly enough justice, however, as South Korea shows the world how disaster epics are supposed to be done.
Caligula: The Ultimate Cut – I’ll probably never watch this movie ever again, but it was a singular sight to behold. Thematically I got a lot out of a lush and lavish production that depicts the depravity and downfall of ultimate wealth and power. And I always love a good redemption arc of a real movie being unearthed from the chaos of a previously doomed production. Incredible stuff.
Last Stop In Yuma County – An old-fashioned potboiler from a first-time writer-director, Last Stop In Yuma County is a refreshing reminder of what cracking writing and crisp direction can bring. There’s nothing here that couldn’t have been done 50 years ago, but it’s done so well that that fact is more refreshing than it is frustrating.
David Delgado
1. River: The team behind Beyond the Infinite Two Minutes simply don’t miss. The characters are incredibly wonderful and the hijinks they get up to are delightful yet again.
2. Dream Scenario: Dream Scenario is an A24 film from writer-director Kristoffer Borgli (Sick of Myself) and producer Ari Aster. “A24 and Aster” sells a lot of what the film is about, blending comedy and drama with (mild) horror elements. There’s an anxious undercurrent permeating the whole affair. Kaufman will probably be the biggest comparison, but his Adaptation is different enough both in tone (Dream Scenario is sweeter) and Cage’s performance. Link to full review.
3. Kill: “The Raid but India” undersells what this movie does. It’s a contained, hard-hitting, choreography-focused action movie (this time in a train), but instead of nameless faceless goons each guy that gets wrecked has a character arc and personality, all driven by an insane score. A new action classic.
4. Strange Darling: If you’re into Fantastic Fest-style movies, don’t learn anything about this before seeing (and stick with it until at least halfway in).
5.The Last Stop in Yuma County: Fun, tight, and surprising. It’s a pulpy yarn filled with wonderful character actors and makes the most of the single-location setting.
Julian Singleton
1.UFO Sweden: I went into this UFO-hunting adventure film interested in what a European take on an Amblin flick might play like. I was quickly won over by how Crazy Pictures’ fiery tale of found families celebrated the spirit of exploration across generations. Putting many stateside blockbusters to shame with its dazzling visuals and sheer heart, this homegrown Swedish sci-fi epic has ingenuity and imagination in spades. Link to full review.
2. The Last Stop in Yuma County: As hilarious as it is nail-bitingly tense, Yuma County is an absolute banger of a debut from Francis Galluppi. Meticulously detailed in the most rewarding ways and featuring a murderer’s row of some of my favorite character actors, Yuma County feels like a seedy thrift-store paperback you discover on a whim but finish in a matter of hours, leaving you both exhilarated and hungry for more.
3. River: My most anticipated of this year’s festival, Kikaku Theater’s follow-up to Beyond the Infinite Two Minutes was a welcome balm amidst the more chaotic entries of Fantastic Fest. Working within similarly daunting limitations of time and space, Junta Yamaguchi’s film is a tender portrait of how universal our fears of the future can be–but how we can face those anxieties with a silly grin on our face with the right friends by our side. Equally impressive is how Yamaguchi and company not only push their formal skills in their looping series of two-minute takes, but how they write in continuity errors and other unpredictabilities to gut-busting comedic effect.
4. Jackdaw: Oliver Jackson-Cohen becomes a long-lost Walter Hill hero in a slick, effortlessly cool debut from Jamie Childs. Set in a starkly lit, grungy nightmare of a Northern England night, Jack fights to save his younger brother from both jacked-up goons and the ghosts of his past. It’s a lean, laser-focused thriller that trades in BMWs for BMXs, with its own cocky attitude that still manages to sneak in an emotional sucker-punch at the peak of its swagger.
5. Cobweb: A grimly hilarious depiction of film set chaos, Korean auteur Kim Jee-Woon revels in everything that could possibly go wrong on a series of unsanctioned reshoots for a director’s follow-up to his dubious feature debut. Kim’s latest pays homage to the best and worst of the Korean film scene in the 70s, from taboo-pushing classics like The Housemaid to the ironclad grip the country’s film censors exuded on directors seeking to change how films could be made. What makes Cobweb so memorable, however, is how Kim and lead Song Kang-Ho dramatize the impossibility of realizing the perfect vision we all have in our heads–and the bonkers lengths we’ll go to to try to make it a reality.
Jon Partridge
5. Jackdaw: The breakneck rush of a motocross movie colliding with a calamitous crime thriller. Moody, propulsive, and style abounds, without sacrificing any of the grit you’d expect from its northern (UK) setting.
4. The Origin: The Origin certainly shares some DNA with films like The Descent, The Ritual, and Pitch Black, it carves out its own unique space through its immersion in antiquity, specifically Scotland, 45,000 years ago. A propulsive, paranoia-infused, paleolithic survival film, that reminds us to fear the darkness, within and without. Link to full review.
3. Strange Darling: Lush visuals, a smartly used structure, and an enthralling plot make for a fine serial killer thriller. The leads excel in their dalliances, in both light and dark moments, fueling an incredible sexual energy, and the (admirably) controlled chaos that unfolds. Also, bonus points for the most insane breakfast creation I’ve ever seen depicted on film.
2.Last Stop in Yuma County: There’s a sense of polish about every aspect of The Last Stop in Yuma County, and real consideration about every creative choice. The film certainly feels like an homage in many ways. A tribute to neo-noir with a dash of Western thrown in for good measure, bringing to mind the works of both Peckinpah and the Coen Brothers. But Galluppi’s own craft and vision is clear. Leveraging an enthralling Mexican standoff as a means to drive home how greed is anything but good, as well as plant a marker attesting to his own talents. A superb debut feature and straight up, one of the most entertaining films of this year’s fest. Link to full review.
1. River: River is more than just a measure of craft, it is affirming fare that reminds us how we may need to make peace with our present, but we can still take charge of our future. It enthralls and beguiles in equal measure, and itmight be low-budget but it’s undeniably high-concept. A small movie with big ideas, and an exceptionally huge amount of heart. River is a film that you’d happily let run on forever. Link to full review.
Dan Tabor
5. Project Silence: Nothing was more fun than watching this madness unfurl on screen. A disaster film that features a pack of killer pit bulls who have a very good reason for killing 100+ folks who are also fighting for their lives on a bridge that is about to collapse. This South Korean stunner is the definition of a popcorn flick with its Train to Busan-esque tale of a father and his daughter who are just trying to make it through this experience alive.
4. Animalia: Animalia is a film that completely disarmed me. It begins with the story of a young pregnant Moroccan woman from a more modest background who is struggling to get along with her mega-wealthy in-laws, when she is stranded at home when a supernatural event rocks the planet. There is not only the exploration of the haves and the have-nots, but also that existential tangent of a possible spiritual/interplanetary event occuring. The plot is further complicated when the young woman attempts to travel to find her husband in a country where it’s against the beliefs of most for a woman to be independent let alone traveling alone. This film was simply sublime with its look at humanity, faith, and existence and how its star Oumaima Barid took us through this story.
3. Conann: Bertrand Mandico’s retelling of Conan the Barbarian with a female protagonist is so much more brooding and ambitious than After Blue, toying with time, narrative, and character here in ways that multiply the interpretations of this tale the more you gaze into Conann’s infinite abyss. The visceral and captivating story is one of love, regret, art, and the price paid for all three. It’s not a particularly easy pill to swallow, or pleasant to look at, but that’s kind of the point here, nothing is pleasant, and nothing is as easy as it seems. Link to full review.
2.Killing Romance: While I was expecting to like Killing Romance, I wasn’t expecting to love Lee Won-suk’s candy-colored K-drama musical as much as I did. Killing Romance is charming, hilarious, and sometimes even surprisingly heartfelt as it tells the story of a once famous idol who is now stuck in a loveless and abusive marriage with a land developer. The cast here is amazing with Lee Sun-kyun, Lee Hanee, and Gong Myoung delivering surprisingly nuanced takes in this comedy that manages to go to some unexpectedly absurd and touching places. Link to full review.
1. Caligula: The Ultimate Cut: Seeing this “lost” version of the controversial film on the big screen with Malcolm McDowell in attendance for a Q&A was easily a bucket list screening for me. Not only did I believe I would never see this new version, culled from completely alternate takes, restoring McDowell’s original performance. But to then see how it touched the actor afterward who was completely vindicated after 40 years in front of a sold-out audience was truly a sight to behold. Link to full review.
The piece below was written during the 2023 SAG-AFTRA strike. Without the labor of the actors currently on strike, the art being covered in this piece wouldn’t exist.
For true believers of the Roman Catholic kind, William Friedkin’s (To Love and Die In L.A., Sorcerer, The French Connection) 1973 adaptation of William Peter Blatty’s bestseller, The Exorcist, was more than just a well-made, terrifying (to some) supernatural thriller. It represented the cinematic manifestation and expression of the millennia-old struggle between good and evil, literally, metaphorically, and of course, metaphysically. For those true believers, The Exorcist doubled as a spiritual guide for the faithful, a how-to manual on how to identify, confront, and overcome evil in the form of demonic possession. The stakes (our souls) couldn’t be higher. The devil and his demonic minions could be anywhere.
For non-religious, diehard horror fans, The Exorcist represented something else entirely: the purest form, the genre-defining template, and Ur-text for the demonic possession thriller. Every possession thriller since has – one way or another – referenced The Exorcist in form, function, and theme. That alone makes every successive entry in what was originally planned as a one-and-done novel and adaptation, a difficult proposition, repeatedly forced to pay homage or fan service to the original film, reminding viewers on the other side of the screen of the superior 1973 film.
The loosely connected series has been most successful, however, when it’s turned from the original template, specifically the second, Blatty-directed sequel, The Exorcist III (based on Blatty’s novel, Legion), shifting the focus from demon-hunting Catholic priests to the semi-agnostic cop character and a demon-possessed serial killer. The Exorcist III memorably featured one of the most effective jump scares ever put on screen. Even there, as an ongoing series, The Exorcist felt like it had reached a natural, conclusive end.
Where studio-owned IP is concerned, though, nothing ever truly ends. Not even one box-office failure after another or a short-lived TV series already memory-holed convinced studio executives to give the series a rest, temporarily or permanently. That, in turn, leads us directly to The Exorcist: The Believer, the first in a planned trilogy co-written and directed by David Gordon Green, the onetime indie auteur (Prince Avalanche, All The Real Girls, George Washington) turned horror filmmaker (the recent Halloween trilogy/reboot).
Despite presumably best efforts from everyone involved, including a top-to-bottom cast led by Leslie Odom, Jr. as an agnostic trying to save his daughter from demonic possession, who deliver grounded, persuasive performances, a handful of effective scares, and a retooled theme, The Exorcist: Believer never escapes its origins as the product of misplaced faith by studio executives hoping to leverage nostalgia for the original into another low-cost, high-return trilogy.
Opening in Haiti hours before a fatal earthquake strikes the island nation, The Exorcist:Believer centers on Odom’s character, Victor Fielding, a photographer vacationing with his pregnant wife in Haiti. Post-earthquake, Fielding finds himself forced to make a life-or-death decision (his wife or his unborn child) before fast-forwarding to the present where Fielding, a single, overprotective father to a strong-willed, independent-minded thirteen-year-old, Angela (Lidya Jewett). While slightly fraught with tension and conflict, Victor and Angela’s relationship qualifies as relatively strong, nurturing, and loving.
That all changes when Angelia and a middle-school friend, Katherine (Olivia Marcum), disappear after school one day. They’ve ventured into a nearby forest to perform a rite of some kind that will allow Angela to speak to her long-gone mother. Instead, they conjure up something far more dangerous, a demon who possesses both girls. When they’re found three days later, they can’t recall what happened or where they’ve been throughout that time. For Fielding and Katherine’s parents, the girls’ safe, sound, and mostly unharmed return matters more than anything else.
Their relief doesn’t last long as Angela and Katherine begin to exhibit the classic signs of demonic possession, acting out wildly one moment, going catatonic the next before falling into individual and collective fits filled with bodily contortions and obscenities. So far, so painfully familiar except that doubling the number of possessed girls also means doubling the number of exorcisms. A lifelong agnostic, Fielding initially resists the idea of demonic possession (Katherine’s religious conservative parents come to a different conclusion).
Once Fielding crosses over into believer status, OG Chris MacNeil (Ellen Burstyn), joins the fray. Now a famous author but estranged from Regan (Linda Blair) for reasons related to Chris’s post-exorcism lifestyle choices, she functions primarily as nostalgia bait and exposition device before unceremoniously exiting the remainder of the film. Chris’s treatment undoubtedly crosses into disappointment, especially as everything that follows her exit slips into rote “time for an exorcism” territory. Families, friends, and various supporting players, including a recalcitrant priest, join the fight for the girls’ souls.
Despite its reliance on the tropes and conventions of the sub-genre, The Exorcist: Believer adds a trace of originality by introducing non-Catholic traditions into the mix, first by introducing a variant strain of Christianity (Baptists) led by a true-believing minister, Don Revans (Raphael Sbarge), later by adding non-Christian religious traditions into the narrative mix, specifically an oncologist turned faith healer, Dr. Beehibe (Okwui Okpokwasili), who stops by to offer a different, African-related perspective on demonic possession and exorcism. Much incense is burned, invocations whispered, and water blessed. Eventually, however, The Exorcist: Believer reverts to formula, pitting Christianity against the demon(s) for the souls of the two girls.
With far too many painfully predictable story, action, and thematic beats on hand, The Exorcist: Believer too often feels like a pale imitation of the original, short on character depth and more importantly, surprises of any kind. When the scares come, they come along with the usual yelling and thrashing about by the possessed. There’s minimal conflict or drama, slightly more stakes-wise. Ultimately, it feels like everyone involved is just going through the exorcism-related motions. If you’ve seen, heard, or experienced one exorcism, you’ve seen, heard, and experienced them all.
The Exorcist: Believer opens on Friday, October 6th.
I have had the pleasure of attending the last 5 festivals in Telluride, minus one year due to COVID. The festival has an extremely relaxed vibe, more so than any other festival I have been to. Press do not receive any special treatment, and actors from the films are not overwhelmed with screaming fans and paparazzi. Plus, being in the middle of the mountains of Colorado is worth it. So, seeing as there has been a very important strike happening now for the WGA and SAG-AFTRA, it was just a bit more quiet this year at the festival but still a blast.
Of course, that doesn’t stop festival goers from visiting the gorgeous town of Telluride, Colorado and seeing an amazing lineup of films. Telluride Film Festival celebrated their 50th anniversary this year and had an extremely stellar lineup of movies. We did not get to see everything we wanted to as our schedule was stretched thin, but what we did see was excellent. Nine movies in total were seen and putting them in a ranked order is always so difficult. However, if I had to choose my top 3…
All Of Us Strangers (dir. Andrew Haigh)
To say I was speechless after watching this movie is an understatement. I left the theatre and could hear the chitter chatter of Telluride’s more elderly demographic and fell silent until I could gather all my thoughts. All Of Us Strangers is both a pseudo ghost story about a man who poses the ability to visit his long abandoned childhood home and rekindle a relationship with his long deceased parents, while also doubling as a love story between himself and the beautiful Paul Mescal who lives upstairs in his new high rise apartment building. It is heartbreakingly beautiful and the best thing Haigh has done up to this point in my personal opinion. Seeing Andrew Scott in such a vulnerable lead role was refreshing alongside Paul Mescal, Claire Foy, and Jamie Bell. The film is loosely based off of a Japanese manga with a twist: a gay love story. Being able to see Andrew Haigh talk in depth about his film during a Q&A with Chloe Zhao made the feeling of watching this all the more special as Haigh mentioned how personal the film is to him. So much so that he was able to film large sections of the movie in his childhood home. Once this film reaches a general audience, I hope anyone and everyone will check it out.
The Zone of Interest (dir. Jonathan Glazer)
Quite possibly the heaviest film I have seen in a while. Ten years have passed since Jonathan Glazer gave us his last film and he came in strong with this one. The Zone Of Interest is about an SS Commandant whose family lives next door to a concentration camp, only being separated by a tall cement wall. The story follows him and his family during this time period and how their idyllic life butts up against the extreme horror of the concentration camp and his profession. Films about Auschwitz are not taken lightly and are an extremely sensitive topic to put on screen. Not to mention it is very hard to call a film ‘great’ with the subject matter being so bleak. It’s a one-time watch kind of movie as it feels far too real, and authentic. Glazer did not change names of characters, as to keep the film’s authenticity intact. The most interesting thing is that there are zero close-ups of characters in order to give the entire thing a distant, almost cold feeling since they are never deserving of any kind of personal connection. Something that does not spoil the movie but will sit with me for quite awhile is seeing the children in the family play in their gorgeously green grass yard and swim in their clear pool while screams of innocent lives being snuffed out are echoing from the other side of the wall. Absolutely gut wrenching watching this movie but it feels important to see at least once, but only once.
The Bikeriders (dir. Jeff Nichols)
People that know me know how much I love Jeff Nichols, so naturally watching this the first night of the festival was a must. I am also a diehard Michael Shannon fan and being able to see him collaborate with Jeff Nichols for a fifth time was something I needed to observe with my own eyeballs. The Bikeriders is spicy hot and in the best way possible. Starring Austin Butler and Tom Hardy wearing leather jackets with denim vests over them and greased to the nines made me very very happy. If this was not known, The Bikeriders is a book by Danny Lyons who illustrates in black and white photography a Chicago Outlaws Motorcycle Club along with candid interviews with them during the mid 60’s. Though the book focuses on these depictions from the men, the film focuses on these stories through the eyes of a wife, played by the wonderful Jodie Comer. Through thick and thin, these bikers stick together and have the back of their leader, played by Tom Hardy. However, as times change and years pass, things change as more gangs form and become involved in criminal activity than the intention of the original core group. This movie is gritty, dirty, and has some killer cameos. Being a Jeff Nichols loyalist, I hope people watch this.
Well there you have it, my top 3 films of the festival for Telluride 2023. I feel as though the other films I saw could move around in my lineup of 3-9, but they are all worth seeing. The other films that were able to squeeze into the schedule were:
Anatomy of a Fall (dir. Justine Triet) …it’s Sandra Hüller’s year and we’re just living in it.
Poor Things (dir. Yorgos Lanthimos)
Wildcat (dir. Ethan Hawke)
The Royal Hotel (dir. Kitty Green)
Nyad (dir. Jimmy Chin and Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi)
Rustin (dir. George C. Wolfe)
For a complete list of the program, visit this link. The festival is always a great experience. Is it an investment? Absolutely, but I will be going until there it is physically impossible for me to do so. Until then, see you next year, Telluride!
“I’ll bet every one of these people has a story for an opera in them.”
With a couple of exceptions, it seems that whenever opera is used in films it’s done to illustrate whatever plight the main characters are going through. In The Bonfire of the Vanities, Tom Hanks escapes to the opera days after committing a hit and run only to feel singled out by a performer who is singing about the gates of hell. Meanwhile in The Age of Innocence, Daniel-Day Lewis can’t help but see the forbidden love he has for Michelle Pfeiffer play out in a tragic opera about a doomed romance that’s attended by both of them. The two films are just a couple of examples of how the art form has been used to show the operatic nature of what’s happening at certain points of a movie. She Came to Me flips this technique around and emerges as a whole movie that functions as an opera with characters whose dramatic struggles are at once tragic and larger than life.
In She Came to Me, acclaimed opera composer Steven (Peter Dinklage) is creatively blocked and unable to finish his latest work. His psychiatrist wife Patricia (Anne Hathaway) is supportive, but too busy with her own mental impasse to be any real help. Meanwhile, his stepson Julian (Evan Ellison) and his girlfriend Tereza (Harlow Jane) find themselves in hot water with her parents (Brian d’Arcy James and Joanna Kulig). Things turn around for Steven, however, when he encounters tug boat captain Katrina (Marisa Tomei) a semi-free-spirited woman with some definite baggage who helps him get back on track, creatively, while also adding to the chaos in his life.
When She Came to Me was first announced, Steve Carrel, Nicole Kidman, and Amy Schumer were cast in the three central roles before being replaced by Dinklage, Hathaway, and Tomei, respectively. I wouldn’t have minded a version of this film with those actors in it, but there’s no denying how broadly the material would have been played. Recasting the film with the trio we got helps it emerge as a human comedy where the humor isn’t played for laughs, but instead has a goal of showing the tragic hilarity of life. A man looking for inspiration finds it in an unlikely place and (for better and worse) gets more than he thought was possible, while a woman whose main job is to provide comfort and clarity for others finds herself losing her mind; these are plausible scenarios which writer/director Rebecca Miller treats seriously but can locate the absurdity within them as well. While watching the film, I was reminded of a quote by the late great Carrie Fisher: “If my life weren’t funny, it would just be true and that would be unacceptable.” In many ways, this feels like Miller’s thesis for She Came to Me.
It is the funny that drives the more successful and thoughtful parts of Miller’s film, much of which can be found in the incredibly sharp dialogue given to Hathaway’s character who has a Joan Crawford-like cleaning habit and a newfound pull towards her religious roots. “I used to peek into the nuns’ rooms. Talk about minimalist,” she tells her cleaning lady at one point. When her religious re-discovery leads her to want to enter the convent following a nervous breakdown, she says to a nun: “I know once I’m better, I’ll want to join the sisters.” In a calm voice, the nun replies: “Let’s see how you feel in a year.” It’s a shame that Patricia is all but forgotten about in the movie’s third act, only to be given a punctuation mark in the final scene that gets a laugh but ultimately undermines the character. Still, Miller’s use of humor here rarely falters as she uses it to tackle the subject of inspiration and the various forms it shows itself to the people who need it, while also questioning how much artists are allowed to draw from their own life and where the line is in relation to the people in that life.
She Came to Me would purely be an actor’s showcase if it weren’t for someone as experienced as Miller at the helm guiding her story and making sure it doesn’t get lost in the film’s sea of performances. However the filmmaker also wisely knows when to let her actors shine. Dinklage and Tomei have the tone of their scenes and the essence of their characters nailed, allowing the two seasoned vets to find new territory to explore. Neither one of their characters are cookie cutter and neither is the way either actor brings them to life.
d’Arcy has the film’s toughest role as a man who grows more and more loathsome with each scene. However because D’Arcy is one of the top character actors around, he’s also able to make him incredibly watchable. But the real star of She Came to Me is Hathaway. At times the actress seems to be in another film, but one that seems just as fun because she makes it fun with a performance that’s full of the kind of abandon that continuously bounces off the screen.
Anyone reading this who has seen She Came to Me knows that I’m leaving out mentioning the movie’s secondary plot, which involves a number of prominent characters. This is because even days after having watched the film, I’m still not able to reconcile myself with the fact that both plots exist in the same movie. Looking at the movie’s marketing, there’s very little to suggest this other side of the film even exists, ensuring everyone who sees it will be just as surprised as I was. There are two movies at play here. The first is a comedy of neuroses and artistic struggle that contains a sharp wit and interesting questions. The other is a stark drama about class and racial tensions that also serves as a comment on today’s youth. Both movies feature compelling subjects, diverting plot turns, and fleshed-out characters, all of which call for further exploration. It’s just too bad that didn’t get to happen.
The Exorcist as a film series has always been something of an anomaly. It’s produced five movies that (with perhaps the obvious exception of the last two) bear such distinct tones and styles, that it’s hard to believe that they share the same ancestry. Everyone knows the storied history of the series, its supposed curses, the shaky validity of the third movie as an actual Exorcist movie, and the notorious production chaos that led to two installments being released in the mid-00s. All of this has resulted in a series that never had any other choice but to emerge as one of the most transformative in all of movie history. Hoping to add to the legacy is The Exorcist: Believer, Blumhouse and director David Gordon Green’s new direct sequel to the original, which is a lousy slog of a film that tries in vain to add its unique spin on what remains the most famous tale of demonic possession the movies have ever seen.
Leslie Odom Jr. leads The Exorcist: Believer as Victor, a widower whose wife died tragically thirteen years earlier, leaving him to raise their daughter Angela (Lidya Jewett) on his own. One day after school, Angela and her friend Katherine (Olivia O’Neill) wander into the woods nearby only to disappear, causing a city-wide search. Three days later, the two girls are found and quickly begin acting in strange ways, eventually leading everyone to believe they’re been possessed by dark forces. Not knowing where to turn, a skeptical Victor takes the advice of neighbor Ann (Ann Dowd) and tracks down former actress Chris McNeil (Ellen Burstyn), who shares her own experience with demonic possession.
There’s very little in life quite as laborious as watching a movie, any movie, grasp for straws throughout the majority of its runtime. The Exorcist: Believer does this, really from its opening scene. After shamefully revisiting a real-life tragedy and using it as the movie’s setup, Green and Company quickly realize that they’ve got nowhere new or worthwhile to go. For most of the time, the film relies on jump scares of the cheesiest and most obvious kind, a true sign of trouble for any horror movie. Ordinary household sounds that have been amped up and characters jumping before the scare is even finished seem to be what The Exorcist: Believer finds scary. Most of the jumps are used as a sealant for the film’s patchy script, with huge sections feeling like they were lifted from the Blumhouse discard pile. If the filmmakers don’t offer anything fresh, they do an even more abysmal job with the past. The insertion of Chris McNeil into the story doesn’t just feel forced, it’s almost underhanded with obvious hopes that the character’s return will help disguise the fact that the movie is so clearly biding its time. By the time the thrill-free final act takes place, all patience has been exhausted and even the movie’s hat trick, though admittedly somewhat bold, feels like a conclusion we wish would happen much faster than it does.
The irony of it all is that the kinds of themes that are at play here do seem like natural fits for an Exorcist movie. There are genuine attempts made to comment on guilt when it comes to our children, the duty that feels necessary because of the past, and the way all of it impacts the love shared between parent and child. The depths of atonement which some people find themselves living with as a result of grave choices made are seen in both Victor and Ann with each character being graciously given their own moments to explore them. There’s also a very sloppy take on religion that was meant to touch on the universality of faith and belief in the purest of forms but is mishandled so much those scenes almost feel like bad improv from the group of stranded actors instead of thoughtful insight. These are valid themes, all of them. And in a better Exorcist movie, it’s easy to see them flourishing. Yet the fact that some of the more genuine elements only get partially drowned out by the bargain basement scares and Green’s empty attempts at atmosphere is the only real miracle here.
There are no real people in The Exorcist: Believer. There are barely even characters in The Exorcist: Believer. Most of the cast play their roles for the clichés that they are until the script dictates that they become an altogether different cliché. Odom makes for a capable lead, but his sometimes soulful performance is hampered by the shoddy script. The same is said for Dowd, who in the process of giving it her all proves to be another textbook case of a skilled actress that deserves better. Even the great Burstyn, who has the most established character out of everyone, seems stuck as she returns to one of the most memorable roles of her storied career. The actress naturally gives a committed performance, but the movie has done little-to-no work on Chris, and Burstyn’s legendary talent can only do so much.
During The Exorcist: Believer I kept on thinking about other far better Blumhouse titles I wish I were watching, like the little-seen The Town that Dreaded Sundown and especially 2018’s Halloween, also directed by Green. Even only five years after the latter film’s release, it’s still hard to describe just how much of an influence Green’s revolutionary interpretation was. So why was that same magic absent from his take on The Exorcist? The answer is probably in both his and Blumhouse’s overall underestimation of the property. Unlike the original Halloween, 1973’s Exorcist is not a beloved movie, but rather an iconic film that, although greatly respected, just doesn’t lend itself to the kind of sprawling lore and fandom that made Green’s previous present-day Halloween entries so popular. But with a sequel underway, Green’s faith in another successful reimagined trilogy seems steadfast. Personally, I have my doubts.
The rollicking straight-to-video sequel to the cult classic original shines on blu-ray.
Review disc provided by Shout Studios, images captured by reviewer and subject to copyright.
Is this the Undisputed II of horror movies?
That’s a rhetorical question, because I wouldn’t bring that hallowed DTV continuation up if it weren’t legitimately comparable, so Yes. This is the level of quality (especially in comparison to time and resources) that we’re dealing with when talking about Brian Trenchard-Smith’s follow-up to the Kevin Tenney 1988 original. Springing from another Joy Augustyn script, Night of the Demons 2 not only does the smart sequel work of expanding on the rules and mythology of the (fortunately nebulously-defined original), but also manages to pull the same trick of hewing just close enough to horror formulae that its diversions are delightful surprises all while delivering a better-developed cast of characters and jaw dropping make-up and monster effects.
Review disc provided by Shout Studios, images captured by reviewer and subject to copyright.
Set six years after the original, this sequel follows Melissa “Mouse” Franklin (Merle Kennedy) – sister of Angela Franklin (Amelia Kinkade) who disappeared on her ill-fated Halloween party – and her classmates at St. Rita’s Academy. A Catholic boarding school for “troubled students,” St. Rita’s is little more than a reminder to the orphaned Mouse of her status as an outsider no matter where she is, and is a breeding ground for spiteful socialites and cruel pranks.
When head bully Shirley (Zoe Trilling) ropes Mouse and some other students into a particularly nasty practical joke, the group winds up at Hull House, and this is where the film starts to zag. The teens bug out instead of dismissing the creepy shit that starts to pile up, but the unsavory spirits manage to follow them back, and then the film starts to make a genuine meal of its two main locations and the various character combinations that it established in the first act. Head nun Sister Gloria (Jennifer Rhodes) is a particular standout as one part Trunchbull, one part Father Merrin, and one part Abraham van Helsing. But Cristi Harris as Bibi ably shoulders Scream Queen duties and Amelia Kinkade gets to cement Angela as a scenery devouring horror icon.
Review disc provided by Shout Studios, images captured by reviewer and subject to copyright.
In addition to better character arcs and more interesting ensemble dynamics this time around, the other big ace up the movie’s sleeve is how it leans into the humor that was slightly more of a garnish last time around. The comparison to Evil Dead 2 vs. the original isn’t quite perfect, but it’s not far off the mark, either – especially given the manic energy that Trenchard-Smith brings to bear as the film sprints toward it’s Russian nesting doll of a finale. The movie not only concocts compelling set pieces with complex in-camera effects gags across an impressive variety of settings, but can turn on a dime from hilarious punchline to obscene gross-out sequence without upsetting the tonal balance.
Review disc provided by Shout Studios, images captured by reviewer and subject to copyright.
If it sounds like I’m heaping a lot of praise on a direct-to-video “horny teens getting gutted by demons” sequel, that’s because spending enough time in the horror genre shows you just how poorly this concept can go when it’s in the hands of people who don’t give a shit. However, partly due to a solid foundation from the writer of the original and partly thanks to a professional and talented director who really knew how to squeeze a dollar, this is a film that improves on the original in nearly every way.
Review disc provided by Shout Studios, images captured by reviewer and subject to copyright.
The other way in which Night of the Demons 2 ups its game is in lead makeup artist Steve Johnson’s frankly insane practical creature and effects work here. The original was infamous for having truly dynamite prosthetics (no surprise given Johnson worked on An American Werewolf in London and Big Trouble in Little China and would go on to do Blade II), but what the sequel accomplishes is nothing short of extraordinary. Not only because the budget and time were so limited, but also because not as many studios were pushing the envelope in the Fangoria-style “let’s see how we can top ourselves from last time” approach to horror gore in the mid-90s.
There’s also an extended gore gag based around an inversion of “copping a feel” that’s one of the grossest and funniest scenes of its kind. It’s real hard not to admire a movie that’s so insistent on piling the cherries on top.
Presentation:
Review disc provided by Shout Studios, images captured by reviewer and subject to copyright.
Another area where Shout Studios put a lot of obvious effort, the new transfer (taken from the interpositive) isn’t quite able to escape looking like a straight-to-video movie. However, it looks like a pretty damn great DTV film, impressive texture and atmosphere popping in spite of the overall “brighter” look. There’s more impressive visual flair than some horror films I’ve seen from the past year or two, and you’ll be treated to a murderer’s row of questionable hair styles and oozing orifices in glorious high definition. The audio is DTS HD stereo and is crisp and clear throughout.
Review disc provided by Shout Studios, images captured by reviewer and subject to copyright.
Bonus Content:
This is a real meal, with two feature-length commentaries (one from the cast, and one from director Brian Trenchard-Smith and Director of Photography David Lewis) and several lengthy interviews with cast members and filmmakers. The format isn’t flashy, but it’s got great insights and stories as well as breakdowns of some of the nuts-and-bolts behind the film’s incredibly impressive make-up and in-camera effects.
Audio Commentary – with actors Christi Harris, Jennifer Rose, Darin Heames, and Johnny Moran.
Audio Commentary – with Director Brian Trenchard-Smith and Director of Photography David Lewis.
A Tale of Two Demons (70 min) – in-depth interview with Night of the Demons director Kevin Tenney and Night of the Demons 2 director Brian Trenchard-Smith.
Trick or Treat, Sucker (25 min) – Interview with actor Amelia Kinkade.
Red Curls and Screams (21 min) – Interview with actor Cristi Harris.
Monster Mayhem (48 min) – Interview with creature effects designer and make-up artist Steve Johnson.
A Sequel With Guts (13 min) – Inteview with producer Jeff Geoffray.
Night of the Demons 2 Workprint (96 min) – standard definition workprint of the film.
Dailies
Behind the Scenes Photo Gallery
Trailer
Review disc provided by Shout Studios, images captured by reviewer and subject to copyright.
Night of the Demons 2: Collector’s Edition is available for purchase on blu-ray now from Shout Studios and Scream Factory.
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