"CATCH YOU FUCKERS AT A BAD TIME?"

Posts Tagged ‘Judith Roberts’

Dead Silence

Monday, October 7th, 2024

This may be lost to time now, but back in the aughts when SAW was a new thing it was seen as a huge underdog story. These clever young Australians, director James Wan and writer Leigh Whannell, had taken first Sundance and then the world by storm with their gritty, against-the-grain little high concept horror movie that cost a million dollars and grossed more than 100 times that much just in theaters. Soon it would be tarred as “torture porn” and looked down on for having an endless series of sequels, and then it would sort of outlive that criticism and become a beloved institution. It hasn’t been Wan’s baby for most of that time, but unlike the makers of THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT or PARANORMAL ACTIVITY, he was able to grow a bigger directing career from that success. He didn’t want to repeat himself, and stepped back to executive produce the first sequels while he and Whannell hooked up with Universal to make a $20 million ghost story called DEAD SILENCE.

But it was seen as a huge dud. It made less than its budget in theaters and received “generally unfavorable reviews” according to Metacritic. Man, I should’ve known to see it anyway. I mean I did, I always meant to catch up with it, but it took me this long. It’s funny because you can see how people back then who pegged Wan as this extreme horror guy and wanted something really seedy were like, what the fuck is this? Haunted dolls? Flying cameras? I want to see something fucked up! I don’t think I would’ve agreed with them at the time, but today this is definitely the kind of enthusiastic absurdity I want from the director of MALIGNANT. (read the rest of this shit…)

You Were Never Really Here

Monday, April 23rd, 2018

YOU WERE NEVER REALLY HERE is the latest example of what I call “Arthouse Badass” – movies with subject matter and tropes from our beloved crime/action/tough guy movies, but with more interest in formal experimentation and subverting expectations or cliches than in delivering on traditional money shots. It’s based on a novella by Jonathan Ames that sounds like a pretty straightforward action kinda thing, but it’s written and directed by Lynne Ramsay (WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN). Joaquin Phoenix (U TURN) stars as a scary dude who, in the opening scene, has just killed some sex traffickers or somebody and is making an escape. But there will be little emphasis on how badass he is and alot on how damaged and haunted and sad he is.

Like Riggs he regularly contemplates suicide (holding a knife over his mouth, pulling a plastic bag over his head, peering over bridges and onto train tracks). Like Rambo he’s covered in scars and sees flashes of war crimes and other traumas, and at one point breaks down crying about the people he’s killed. Like Leon the professional, Creasy the man on fire, The Equalizer, Logan, Statham in SAFE or Seagal in OUT OF REACH he finds some kind of life’s purpose in protecting a little girl.

But he’s not cool. He’s a husky, baggy-pants-and-pullover-hoodie guy, with a belly and greasy unbrushed hair and a bushy, graying beard, and he mumbles and lays around lazily eating jellybeans, and the last thing he does in the movie is loudly slurp up the dregs of a melted milkshake. He looks more Jack Black than John Wick, more Devin Faraci than Chow Yun Fat, more George R.R. Martin than Lee Marvin, more guitar tech for Ratt than elite operative. (read the rest of this shit…)