Change Your Image
Geneticks11
Reviews
Lights Out (2011)
This thing knocks me out
Sorry for the cliché. Yes, it's dark, and sure, it can be depressing. And for those approaching it with a video game mentality it's not exactly action-packed. But from a psychological standpoint, for insight into a man and a family cornered by bad luck and scummy people, this is some of the richest, truest material I've yet to see on the little screen.
Start - and really end - with Holt McCallany. As Patrick Leary this man gives one of the most layered, convincing performances I've ever had the pleasure to watch. Every gesture, every fleeting facial snapshot, exposes the hurt of a proud man who has to beg for a break, for things to work out just one more time. Watch him have to deal with his children, with his wife, and see the uncertainty of a hard man who hates what he's doing. Except that it's for them, and for himself, and the conflict eats him away like acid. I've never seen him in anything else, but I'd literally pay to watch McCallany as Lights Leary.
The supporting cast falls short. Catherine McCormack as his wife Theresa is a perpetual nervous breakdown in waiting. Her only emotion is quivering, moist-eyed brittleness. Stacy Keach has either lost his chops or, more likely, been hamstrung by his one-dimensional role as old-school hard ass. Reg Cathey as the Don King stand-in is such a leering caricature of cartoon villainy you can't take him seriously. Leary's brother Johnny - Pablo Schreiber - has the odd handicap of a face that seems stuck in a slightly goofy, what-me-worry expression that flattens most of his scenes. The one exception to this surrounding blandness, for me, is Eamonn Walker as the renegade trainer. As an oddball paranoid who's either been born or beaten out of round, he plays the role with an understated, slightly loony intensity that rings weird and true.
McCallany, not truly a physical heavyweight, has learned to spar and train convincingly. The buildup to his fights is slow, excruciating, and wracked with the fear and tension of real battle. The fight scenes grip, not for their verisimilitude but because of the psychological freight they pack.
But, oh - Holt McCallany. Whether you like family drama, boxing, or just studying the technique of a man immersed in character, he alone is worth the price of a ticket. You cannot afford to miss him in this.
Alice (2009)
Pretty Damn Impressive, for SyFy
Wonder of wonders, this one is actually worth watching. Unlike the usual SyFy mail-it-in slop, this "Alice" has some nice performances, a clever script, and dreamlike sets/CGI that show money was not only spent, it was lovingly applied.
Caterina Scorsone is Alice, a martial arts instructress who follows her abducted boyfriend through the looking glass and down the rabbit hole. (Yes – the two Lewis Carroll works are fused into one here, but unless you're a stickler for literary accuracy it works well enough.) What follows is her adventure in Wonderland, which thanks to the reign of the evil Red Queen (Kathy Bates) has degenerated into something out of Blade Runner.
Scorsone seems a bit too old for the role here. In early scenes with her mother my first thought was they could easily be sisters. That said, she plays the part competently and without histrionics. The real glue is Andrew Lee Potts as Hatter. Understated and wry, he has the natural actor's ability to say something with a pause, to convey an emotion with the tic of an eyebrow. This is one guy I'd pay to see.
Aside from these two, the other characters are a mixed bag. Kathy Bates is one dimensional, a regal harpy who makes you wonder why anybody would put up with her. Philip Winchester is her son Jack, a rake looking for a little action before he's married off to the Duchess. Winchester's another solid Brit, low-key and smooth. Tim Curry is mostly wasted in a small part as Dodo. It's an interesting tidbit for one reason: Curry's gotten really fat. Memo to Tim: hit the salad bar; Dr. FrankNFurter could squeeze into one of your pants legs. And sorry - I found Matt Frewer as the White Knight a little annoying. His nonstop dotty rambling got old fast for me, and it's only heightened by the restraint of those around him.
Considering the source, you really can't say enough for the visuals. For a made-for-SyFy production, almost everything you get here is eerie and evocative. I'd actually watch this again just to re-experience some of the images. It's good for the same reason most Stephen King flicks aren't: somebody loved and respected the material enough to put in the time and effort, and it shows. BTW, one false note is the Jabberwock, which looks like an outtake from one of SyFy's weekly creature features.
As for the story – who cares. I really wasn't paying that much attention. I was too busy soaking up the surprising production values. See this if you get the chance and have the time. It's one of the better ones.
Children of the Corn (2009)
I hate myself
I happen to like a lot of Stephen King's work, even though almost everything he does needs to be put on the treadmill for a year. But 20 minutes into this I was cursing myself out loud for actually sitting and watching. I don't know how much King had to do with this screenplay. But somebody ought to get his ass sued.
The script is a mail-it-in, whack-you-in-the-face mediocrity that makes you wonder what clueless desk jockey actually OK'd payment for it. The performances range from bland to the teeth-grindingly awful. The director probably should take a major hit too, with the caveat that the first two handicaps have effectively sent him into battle with a water pistol.
Speaking of battles – can somebody please pass a law forbidding the use of the traumatized Vietnam vet as a cinematic device? King resorts to this one a lot, usually when he wants a character with an unpredictable edge. But by now it is limp, it is exceedingly tired, it is as much of a cliché as John Rambo. It is also more than a little insulting to the vets who actually trod the battlefields of Southeast Asia. Please – take it out back and have it shot.
You have to wonder what was going on when Kandyse McClure, as the vet's wife, began shooting her first Corn scenes. Was it then the director got those first, sinking premonitions of disaster? Did he even try to inject a little, well, direction into the proceedings? Because hers is one of the stunningly bad performances, even by SyFy standards. McClure apparently never thought of attempting a little variety in her readings. What we get is a single-note, one-pitch whine that after five minutes feels like a screwdriver in your ear. I'd love to know if anybody actually tried to get her to modulate once every scene or so. But no, forget any change-ups. She keeps on pumping her junior high fastball until you're swearing at the flat-screen. Wasn't anybody awake when she was filming? I haven't seen Ms. McClure in anything else, and maybe everybody just wrote this off and went for the quickie paycheck once they realized what a mess was in the making. But if this is a representative sample of McClure's talents, she ought to thank God for those limpid eyes and cute booty. Because otherwise she'd probably be dumping fries in the deep fat, back wherever she came from.
As the post-Vietnam husband, David Anders at least lowers his voice occasionally. But this erstwhile jungle fighter loses credibility when, hunted through the corn by the demonic children, he blunders around with all the stealth of a tractor with a flat. Throw in the out-loud conversations he conducts with himself, and you could hear the guy from Mars. I want to see this man's DD-214.
The children are dull, unbelievable, and anything but scary. Some of the sets are nice, especially inside the church. I actually thought the "fertilization" scene on the altar was mildly creepy, with the manic, orgasmic reaction shots from the little kids looking on. But on the whole, as with so many of King's works that get transferred to the screen, this whole thing is grade A turkey.
There is one amusing moment. Anders stumbles on Vickie's (his wife) crucified body in the middle of the field, and falls to his knees in anguish. Not funny, you protest? Laughably unbelievable, I reply. Because, given what we've seen of Vickie, any normal man would have been the first one in line to plant corncobs in her head.