Talk To Me (2023) - Movie Review

I got into this when I looked at Arctic a few years back, but now more than ever, it has been cool to see so many YouTubers making it in the film business. Joe Penna went from MysteryGuitarMan to delivering the kind of survival thrillers that even I can get into; Radio Silence, the guys who pioneered the ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’ format on YT, not only have been contributing to and are now producing the V/H/S anthology series, but now have the keys to one of the most beloved slasher franchises ever in the new Scream movies; and the Martial Club stunt team got to work on last year’s runaway success Everything Everywhere All At Once.

Before this blog even existed, I was one of many who thoughtthey could turn YouTube into their career (before realising that going into video-making with that mindset is, to put it simply, a terrible idea), and while I realised that it wasn’t the way for me, it’s still quite nice to see so many others turn that passion into something viable.

And this time around, we have a success story from my neck of the woods (kind of), with the Adelaide-based team of brothers Danny and Michael Philippou, AKA RackaRacka. It was quite surreal to see their production logo next to national grant Screen Australia and A2-bloody-4 in the opening credits, and that’s only the beginning of it where this film is concerned.

Beau Is Afraid (2023) - Movie Review

The more time I spend contemplating the work of writer/director Ari Aster, the more frustrated I get with him. His feature debut Hereditary is a special film to me for a number of reasons. On first viewing, while I was impressed with the film craft and atmosphere, that ending really threw me for a loop. Then I clung onto Nyx Fears’ compelling and thought-provoking take of it as a trans allegory, which not only says something about how convoluted the lore surrounding King Paimon wound up being that that was the more logical explanation, but it’s one of the bigger instances of my flirtings with edgelord optimism; the approach of finding positivity in the midst of emphatically fucked-up ideas and scenarios, in this case being an empathetic view of society’s lack of empathy towards trans people. Or, at least, when viewed through that lens.

All of that makes for one of the more complicated connections I’ve made with a film I’ve reviewed on here, and possibly ever seen beyond that, and those two ideas (fatalistic family tragedy about how we’re doomed to choices beyond our control, or Lynchian psychological portrait of a mother’s rejection of her trans son) are still butting heads in my brain at the time of writing this.

And to think, Hereditary has basically become a running joke among my family, since I really got into the trans interpretation of it and… well, let’s just say that my attempts to convince my parents of the same was less than successful.

My take on Aster’s follow-up, Midsommar, though? Much simpler. It’s a dark break-up movie dressed as a slasher dressed as a Pagan acid trip, and it’s the film that finally got Florence Pugh on my radar as an actor worth looking out for.

Anyway, between those two, I went into Aster’s latest with some trepidation based on past experiences, but still hoping for something good. I mean, after Aster was rather insistent on Hereditary’s story being literal, seeing him go for something properly David Lynch/Charlie Kaufman is at least an interesting direction to take, as is the decision to lean more into his pitch-black sense of humour. However, what ultimately resulted from this is a film that did not work for me.

Marcel The Shell With Shoes On (2022) - Movie Review

With how many films I actively seek out regardless of it sparking any initial interest for me personally, especially at this time of the year, trailers don’t really register with me these days. I don’t pay much attention to them outside of the context of the cinema, and even then, I usually just end up seeing the same two or three on repeat for a good few weeks’ worth of sessions.

The trailer for this film, though, is a major exception to that. As much as I'm starting to realise that getting me to cry over a piece of media isn’t that difficult to do, being the big softy I am, I can’t recall another instance where I got to that stage just from the trailer. Because of that, this is one of those situations where, even if I weren’t going out to see every movie I can, this would still be a priority to check out as soon as possible. And when I finally did… I… I get the feeling I’ll be processing this one for a while.

Men (2022) - Movie Review

I love fucked-up movies. To me, there are few feelings I love more than when I’ve just finished watching a movie, and my first instinct is to scream “What the fuck did I just watch?!” while sporting a massive grin on my face. I’ve looked at quite a few films on this blog that have genuinely gotten that reaction out of me, like The Greasy Strangler, Malignant, Where The Dead Go To Die, and Titane, and the experiences I had watching them for the first time are memories I hold onto quite closely. But when the latest film by Alex Garland, whose last two films were certified sci-fi king hits, popped up in a cinema close(ish) to me, I can’t say I was expecting it to join that illustrious collection. But sure enough, here we are.

X (2022) - Movie Review

Sex and horror are strange bedfellows. As types of entertainment that exist outside of the mainstream’s safe zone, they’re inexorably linked, but they also have an uncomfortable relationship with each other. One of the most referred-to stereotypes in horror movies, and particularly slasher movies, is that if a character has sex on-screen, or has ever had sex in their fictional life, they are going to die. Films like the Friday The 13^th series, where it seemed like Jason Voorhees had a sixth sense for people fucking nearby (an idea that became literal with Jason X).

Now, while there’s a general understanding that, yeah, that’s the actions and motives of the villain, so it’s not implicitly meant to be a viewpoint that should be adhered to… well, when it gets to the point where that stereotype of ‘sluts die’ is something that gets brought up consistently not just with discussions of older films, but is brought back in a lot of modern meta-horror features as well, you have to start wondering if that repetition is to acknowledge how regressive that worldview is, or to reinforce it. See also: The black man being the first to die in a horror film.

Minari (2021) - Movie Review

I’ve gotten into this point in previous reviews, but for the uninitiated, let me just get it out there: There are few things I find duller to (personally) sit through than films that critique or otherwise examine the ideal of the American Dream. Every time I see a new film dealing in this subject matter, it feels like I have to incentivise my own brain into paying attention; American Made had this effect on me, same with Home Sweet Hell and, to a lesser extent, Gold, so this seems to be regardless of a film’s individual quality as entertainment.

I just… don’t care about the idea, as even all the way over here in Australia, I was taught from a fairly early age that the American Dream is a fantasy not worth chasing. As such, I think I’ve developed a blind spot to it as a regular filmgoer; unless it’s told in a really out-there fashion (i.e. slathered in genre engagement and commentary on other things like with Knives Out), it just doesn’t register for me.

The Last Black Man In San Francisco (2020) - Movie Review

Fucking hell, this is gorgeous. I know that I usually reserve that kind of nuanced, thought-provoking statement for later on in the review, saving this space for some long-winded wind-up to introduce the film, but there really is no other way to preface just how beautiful this thing looks. The feature debut of Joe Talbot, who has been brewing this film along with star Jimmie Fails for years now (dating back to before they even knew how to film shit in the first place), this is one of those Sex, Lies, And Videotape situations where, if not actively told this was a debut, you’d think it’s the work of someone with at least a decade of produced experience under his belt. But nope; Talbot is just that damn good.

Mid90s (2019) - Movie Review

Coming-of-age stories seem to take on a more meta aspect once it sinks in that, over the last couple years, they’ve served as ample ground for actors to come of age in their own way and become filmmakers in their own. Greta Gerwig went out on the solo tip with Lady Bird, Bo Burnham struck gold with Eighth Grade, and Olivia Wilde’s Booksmart is one of the single best things she’s ever been attached to. And it seems that Jonah Hill, a figure at the nexus for the rises of filmmakers like Judd Apatow and Seth Rogen, is stepping into the arena with his own take on when a kid starts to learn how to be an adult. And fucking hell, I don’t know what it says about me that this film appeals to me so damn much, but yeah, that’s what we get here.