THE LEGEND OF THE FIVE

Stars: Lauren Esposito, Gabi Sproule, Leigh Joel Scott, Nicholas Adrianakos, Deborah An, Beth Champion, Eric James Gravolin, Matthew Pritchard and Tiriel Mora.
Writer: Peter McLeod
Director: Joanne Samuel

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ½

The Breakfast Club go to Ferngully in The Legend of The Five, the new Aussie Y.A. indie romp that leans heavily on the ‘80s teen movie beats to soft-sell a contemporary and urgent environmental message. Director Joanne Samuel and writer Peter McLeod show a lot of respect for their target audience, those socially-aware, issue-driven young people who look to Greta Thunberg in the same way their parents looked to Molly Ringwald.

The core group of characters are a demographically-diverse lot, clearly designed to appeal to as many corners of a modern high-school courtyard as possible. The key protagonist is displaced American Zoe (Lauren Esposito), whose dad has chosen to move to Australia to help cope with the death of Zoe’s mom. A loner at her new school, Zoe crosses paths with perky alpha-girl Caitlin (Gabi Sproule); her jock bf, Javier (Nicholas Adrianakos); dark, arty type Kaylee (Deborah An); and, bespectacled book-worm Brit, Owen (Leigh Joel Scott).

On a school excursion to a museum, the group find themselves in possession of a mystical wooden shaft (introduced in a thrilling prologue, set in 1922 and straight out of an Indiana Jones-type spectacle), that soon hurtles them across space and time into a woodland fantasy realm. Here, an ageing wizard (the great Tiriel Mora) sets their quest in motion - the chosen five are ‘elementalists’, representative of nature’s forces, and they must seek out The Tree of Knowledge (recalling James Cameron’s own enviro-epic, Avatar) and save it from an evil sorceress (Beth Champion) before the forest, then the world, is destroyed.

Gen-Xers will have a blast spotting nods to the films of their youth that have provided inspiration for Samuel’s first directorial effort, coming 41 years after she played Max’s wife Jessie in Dr. George Miller’s iconic 1979 actioner, Mad Max. The bickering besties are cast a little older, but they could be The Goonies, or its more fantastical offshoot, Explorers (both 1985). The creatures of the make-believe world (stunningly shot amongst Sydney’s Blue Mountains by DOP Casimir Dickson) recall Ridley Scott’s Legend (1985), Jim Henson’s Labyrinth (1986) and, more recently, Andrew Adamson’s The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (2005).

Where Samuel and McLeod most successfully stake their claim as strong, legitimate voices for the younger generation is in a sequence that takes their characters deep into a darkness where they must confront their own negative selves. The scene highlights teenage fears, jealousies, grief and insecurities in very real terms, utilising the fantasy setting as a means by which to conquer those forces that bear heavily on young minds and emotions. 

It is a bold narrative sidestep that adds resonance to a film that might have otherwise played too simplistically for the 13+ age bracket. As it stands, The Legend of The Five is solidly-packaged, all-ages Australian entertainment with strong international prospects.

THE LEGEND OF THE FIVE will play a limited Australian theatrical season from June 25; other territories to follow.

WHAT GOES AROUND

Stars: Catherine Morvell, Jesse Bouma, Gabrielle Pearson, Charles Jazz Terrier, Taylor Pearce, Aly Zhang, Maximilian Johnson and Ace Whitman.
Writer/Director: Sam Hamilton.

Currently available globally via Prime Video, Genflix and Vimeo on Demand.

Rating: ★ ★ ★

The cinematic DNA of ageing ensemble shockers Scream (1996) and I Know What You Did Last Summer (1997) is coursing through the bloody veins of Sam Hamilton’s What Goes Around. Hinting at the cyclical nature of the slasher movie fad from the title on down, this splattery, silly but undeniably entertaining reworking of shopworn stalk-&-stab tropes will wear some deep critical cuts but also prove a blast for audiences for whom the ‘90s is that distant decade in which their parents got married.

Aiming for a demographic smart enough to know its horror movie references but not so gratingly ironic as to dismiss them outright, Hamilton’s feature directing debut talks the talk to today’s 20-somethings - his cast drink a lot of coffee (and milkshakes), text all the time, converse (and dance) awkwardly at parties. Out front is Erin Macneil (the terrific Catherine Morvell, recalling Emily Blunt by way of Kerry Armstrong; pictured, top), a socially withdrawn film-school student who remains in touch with her bff, Rachel (Gabrielle Pearson). 

The ol’ high-school gang are also around, including tart-mouth stirrer Marnie (Ace Whitman), upwardly-mobile jerk Cameron (Charles Jazz Terrier), his doormat gf Cara (Aly Chang), and support players Jake (Taylor Pearce) and Tom (Maximilian Johnson), for whom these sort of movies never end particularly well.

Erin’s documentary-class crush is Alex Harrison (Jesse Bouma; pictured, above), the narrative’s ‘Skeet Ulrich’-type, who somewhat suspiciously leaves his laptop right where Erin can find it. Find it she does, and soon spying upon his private emails is she. Things turn ugly when Erin opens an email from ‘Snuff Boy’, and a brutal killing-video unfolds before her disbelieving eyes. As with even the best of this genre (throw in Urban Legend, Halloween H20, The Faculty, all the Scream and Summer sequels), the plot moves forward based upon one or more characters making bad choices; here, Erin ignores said snuff footage and allows herself to be wooed by Alex. 

As the bodies pile up and the group’s backstory comes into focus, Hamilton’s skill at moving his story along at a clip (the pic is a thankfully tight 78 mins) is appreciated; implausibilities are pushed aside and the cool stuff that slasher fans pine for moves centre-stage. The kills are staged with efficiency and build with intensity; come the final frames, nail-guns and hacksaws feel about right.

Bring a few grains of salt. The gruesome murders all take place in a middle-class Australian suburb with seemingly no police force; despite several bloody deaths amongst their core group and a cyber-crime component which places it under federal jurisdiction, no character is ever interrogated or seeks counselling. Things move pretty fast in slasher movies, rarely allowing for such affectations as mourning or police procedural work.

Not that the lack of such subtleties proves an anchor for What Goes Around, as Hamilton knows what makes the genre tick. The balance of charismatic performers, a bloody bodycount and the occasional wink to the audience in service of the mid-level mystery plot is what rejuvenated the slice-&-dice romp 25 years ago, and may do again.

What Goes Around | Official Trailer from Bounty Films on Vimeo.

HIDDEN ORCHARD MYSTERIES: THE CASE OF THE AIR B&B ROBBERY

Stars: Gabriella Pastore, Ja’ness Tate, Davey Moore, Vanessa Padla, Donovan Williams, Kim Akia, Hunter Bills, Diane D Carter, Camilla Elaine, Ole Goode, Kevin Robinson, Edward Pastore, Jaymee Vowell, Catarah Hampshire, Carlos Coleman and Orlando Cortez.
Writer/Director: Brian C. Shackelford

WORLD PREMIERE will be held online via CYA Live on Friday June 12 (7.00pm EDT)/Saturday June 13 (9.00am AET); tickets available here. Then from June 16 on platforms including iTunes, Vudu, Google Play, Xbox, Amazon, and FandangoNow.
 
Rating: ★ ★ ★

Two winning lead performances and the present-day reimagining of well-worn tropes go a long way to smoothing over some bumpy plotting in the family franchise kicker Hidden Orchard Mysteries: The Case of the Air B&B Robbery. As Gabby and Lulu, the tweenage besties whose sleuthing reveals an ugly underside in their well-to-do suburban life, Gabriella Pastore and Ja’ness Tate are wonderful; iGen Nancy Drews dealing with the weird adults around them as best they can.

Behind the manicured lawns and upmarket homes of the middle-class American world that is Hidden Orchard, where investment in the rented residential space of the title is the hot new thing, a break-and-enter rattles the population. Gabby and Lulu see an opportunity to spark their vacation time and set about solving the crime, allowing them to peer inside the lives of their neighbours. 

What unfolds is ‘Teen Mystery 101’, de rigueur for fans of young detective staples such as The Hardy Boys or Harriet the Spy. Director Brian C. Shackelford helms competently in a manner suited for the small-screen, though is let down by wavering tonal shifts in his script (working from a story by Joyce Fitzpatrick). His lead actresses have a lovely, natural chemistry and their time on-screen is the film’s greatest asset. However, support players range from broad ‘sitcom schtick’ (Carlos Coleman and Catarah Hampshire, as the local cupcake retailers, hit OTT heights rarely seen outside of The Disney Channel) to Scooby-Doo villainy (“I would’ve got away with it if not for you meddling kids!”) and all points in between.

Most interesting are the contemporary flourishes that are clearly an effort to bring the traditional ‘teen mystery’ narrative into 2020 (and may push the film into 13+ censorship brackets in some territories). Rarely in even her most daring adventures did the Nancy Drew of old have to deal with a weed-growing mom-next-door; a gun-wielding, tough-talking baddy; extramarital liaisons (don’t worry, mums and dads, it’s all off-screen); or, most diabolically, a shady insurance executive’s pitch presentation. 

The film’s best real-world drama happens between Gabriella Pastore and Camilla Elaine as her stepmom, Cynthia, as they struggle to deal with their new relationship. While Lulu is all sugar’n’spice, Gabby is a child of divorce and has a slightly jaded world view. Pastore and Tate find a nuanced truthfulness in their girl-power bond that conveys a particularly strong kinship; their friendship feels sturdy enough to survive whatever their broadening experience offers up, and then well into adulthood. 

To the production’s credit, Shackelford populates Hidden Orchard with a culturally diverse group, even if some border on caricature (Orlando Cortez’s Hispanic gardener; Jaymee Vowell’s screechy redhead busy-body). The June 12 premiere of the film will coincide with the ongoing #BLM protests in many U.S. states, giving added and unexpected weight to a line spoken by white Police Chief Wellar (Corey J. Grant). In a moment of contrition, he states, “Maybe my way is not always the best way.” The ‘teen detective’ narrative is an old one, but The Case of the Air B&B, from its title on down, is a very up-to-date reworking.

BEING GAVIN

Stars: Jamie Oxenbould, Catherine Moore, Kate Raison, Ed Oxenbould, Brian Meegan and Ray Meagher.
Writers: Mark Kilmurry and Sara Bovolenta.
Director: Owen Elliott and Mark Kilmurry.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

Back before superheroes and their teen fanbase ruled the box office, studios made movies for grown-ups. Names like George Segal and Walther Matthau and Dudley Moore starred in movies about marriage, infidelity and midlife crises that were funny, sad and smart. They stopped making them when the star system faded and the audience grew younger, despite being box office gold and Oscar friendly in their heyday.

Being Gavin harkens back to films like Cactus Flower (1969, with Matthau), A Touch of Class (1973, with Segal) and 10 (1979, with Moore), in which comfortably married, middle-class husbands complicate their lives by taking vibrant young lovers who complicate arrangements by falling in love. Directors Owen Elliott (helming his first feature since the acclaimed Bathing Franky in 2012) and Mark Kilmurry have crafted a contemporary, re-energised spin on a genre most considered dated, even moribund.

The titular ‘Gavin’ is the owner of a struggling cafe inherited from his ageing father (Ray Meagher). His life changes one morning when, like a personality whirlwind, struggling singer Samantha (a lovably boisterous Catherine Moore) presents herself as the life force that Gavin didn’t know he needed. Despite their wildly divergent individualism (a genre trope, to be fair) and his patchy bedroom skills, Gavin and Samantha bond with promise of much loveliness to come.

But the co-directors have a second-act twist that puts pressure on both the lovebirds and his narrative. Gavin is in a 22-year marriage, not to some some shrill ballbreaker as might have been the case four decades ago when the genre was soaring, but to Elaine (Kate Raison), a caring wife and mother, successful professional and totally undeserving of the grief that Gavin’s actions make inevitable. As Gavin’s actions become comically frantic, and with his life twisting in on itself through his lack of responsibility and awareness, Being Gavin takes on a somewhat bittersweet trajectory; things aren’t going to end well for anyone, but let’s hope it’ll be fun getting there anyway.

Gavin is played by Jamie Oxenbould, a likable journeyman actor who has earned his leading man status after decades as a respected ensemble player. He has some lovely scenes opposite his real-life son Ed Oxenbould (Paper Planes, 2014; The Visit, 2015) who plays surly teen Josh. Notably, Oxenbould Snr. channels that other significant figure of the 'reluctant philanderer' genre, Woody Allen, with a performance that mirrors the comedian's breathy delivery and nervous energy. 

The directing team also takes cues from Allen's late ‘80s oeuvre, films such as Hannah and Her Sisters (1986), Another Woman (1988), Crimes and Misdemeanours (1989) and Husbands and Wives (1992); works that tackled similar themes and revealed the maturing of the Oscar winner as an insightful observer of human foibles. There is further evidence of Elliott's and Kilmurry's fondness for Allen’s classics, with a shot of fireworks against Sydney’s skyline a homage to Manhattan (1979) and the use of Allen’s iconic Windsor Light credit font.        

If the first-act meet-cute machinations feel pitched a bit high, the dramatic developments and satisfying denouement provide Gavin’s re-emergence with a heartfelt honesty. Just as importantly, the film honours Elaine and Samantha in its truthful depiction of how they love, cope with and ultimately rise above Gavin’s flaws. Being Gavin grows wiser and smarter in line with its protagonist, shifting from fidgety shallowness to self-aware maturity in a narrative arc as wholly refreshing as it is delightfully old-fashioned.

Photo credits: 76 Pictures Pty. Ltd.

EXORCISM AT 60,000 FEET

Stars: Robert Miano, Bai Ling, Bill Moseley, Lance Henriksen, Kevin J. O’Connor, Robert Rhine, Kyle Jones, Silvia Spross, Kelli Maroney, Matthew Moy and Adrienne Barbeau.
Writers: Robert Rhine and Daniel Benton.
Director: Chad Ferrin.

Rating: ★ ★

The premise of Exorcism at 60,000 Feet reads like the opening to an inappropriate gag your drunk uncle barks out at Thanksgiving dinner. “Did you hear the one about the priest, the rabbi, and the dwarf on a flight to VietNam…,” it begins and, before any of your relatives can wrestle the sad, sick family jester to the ground, he screams and spits his way through a waffling, weird, wildly offensive mess of a joke.

In genre-speak, Exorcism at 60,000 Feet is that most dangerous meld of film types - the horror-comedy, which implies a measured balance of chills and giggles. Director Chad Ferrin, who impressed a few years back with the bloody urban thriller Parasites, doesn’t nail either horror or comedy with any degree of inspiration or skill. With co-writers Robert Rhine and Daniel Benton having to share some of the blame, Ferrin pitches for Airplane-meets-The Exorcist, but crash lands well short of the destination.

Like a lot of good comedies, Exorcism at 60,000 Feet opens on the mass murder of a family. Robert Miano plays hardened padre Father Romero, who arrives too late to save the deceased but just in time to identify the evil entity as ‘Garvin’, the resurrected spirit of his army buddy from ‘Nam. For some reason, he needs to return Garvin to VietNam, booking passage on the ‘hilariously’ titled Viet Kong Airways, the offensive moniker only made worse by its anachronism - will the target audience of first-time pot-smokers even know what is being referenced?

On board, the spirit of Garvin (played in terrible make-up by B-movie icon, Bill Mosely) is possessing the passengers, each one a grossly painted caricature of such wannabe comic stereotypes as the roided-up bodybuilder (Luca Pennazzato); the middle Eastern ‘potential terrorist’ (Gino Salvano); the peace-seeking Buddhist (Craig Ng); the anytime/anywhere sexpot (Stefanie Peti); the other anytime/anywhere sexpot (Jin N. Tonic, who shows some comedy chops); and, the Soprano-esque goombah (Johnny Williams). Most unforgivably tasteless is the ‘Mommy with toddler’ passengers, featuring Kelli Maroney (cult favourite from 1984’s Night of the Comet) as the mature-age woman who breastfeeds her obnoxious son Dukie, played by little person actor, Sammy the Dwarf.

Romero teams with orthodox rabbi Larry Feldman (co-scripter Rhine) and the flight crew, Amanda (Bai Ling, playing to the back row) and Thang (an occasionally funny Matthew Moy), to battle the demon, which manifests as a cheap-as-chips ‘green mist’. Garvin’s victims suffer ugly fates to remind the audience this is a ‘horror film’ - clean-cut Brad (Kyle Jones) meets a grisly end while ‘mile high’ clubbing; phone-obsessed millennial Ms Tang (Jolie Chi) must deal with an unwanted demon-pregnancy; and so on. Ferrin earns points for securing the likes of Lance Henriksen (as Captain Houdee...geddit?) and Adrienne Barbeau (pictured, above) for day-shoots, but their involvement is wasted on parts that prove just what good sports they are willing to be to pay some bills. 

The influence of the Zucker-Abrahams 1980 classic is everywhere, most notably in composer Richard Band’s shameless rip-off of Elmer Bernstein’s classic score, but there’s none of the comic pacing or inspired performances that made Airplane so memorable (or The Naked Gun series, which Ferrin also apes). Instead, the humour is of the ‘punch down’ variety - easy, ugly potshots based on race, gender or religion - placing Exorcism at 60,000 Feet dangerously close to the shock comedy stylings of a film like Uwe Boll’s Postal (2007).

That said, praise is certainly due cinematographer Christian Janss, who skilfully mimics the frantic camera moves George Miller employed in his Twilight Zone The Movie episode, ‘Nightmare at 20,000 Feet’, and the effects team working under Joe Castro and Maricela Lazcano, who give exteriors shots of the plane careening through an otherworldly night sky legitimate authenticity. 

THERE'S SOMETHING IN THE WATER

Featuring: Ellen Page, Ingrid Waldron, Michelle Paul, Jolene Marr, Dorene Bernard, Michelle Francis-Denny, Carol Howe, Rebecca Moore, Paula Isaac, Marian Nichols and Louise Delisle.
Directors: Ellen Page and Ian Daniel.

Available on:

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

Ellen Page returns to her Nova Scotian roots to document the ongoing exploitation of traditional indigenous lands in There’s Something in the Water. With her ‘Gaycation’ collaborator Ian Daniel sharing camera duties, the Oscar-nominated actress puts her celebrity to good use highlighting the scourge of environmental racism, as it impacts the First Nations people of Canada.

Taking as her starting point the bestselling book by Dr Ingrid Waldron, Page goes deep into her homeland’s heartland to reveal both the human and ecological scarring caused by close to 60 years of government neglect and callous corporate profiteering. Establishing her familial ties to the eastern Canadian maritime province and recalling an appearance on Stephen Colbert’s The Late Show where she passionately addressed the ongoing abuse of indigenous entitlement, Page pinpoints three economically-challenged regions that have long been sacred to the traditional owners but have become shameful monuments of capital-C capitalism.

The first stop is the southern township of Shelburne, historically significant for the role it played in the mid-19th century America as a drop-off point for the Underground Railway; at one point in the country’s history, it had the highest population of African-Americans in Canada. However, in the 1940s, a waste dump was established on the town’s outskirts and remained open until 2016, the resulting stench and seepage of toxins into the water supply now thought responsible for generations of cancer fatalities. 

Page and Daniel then travel to the far north, to the Boat Harbour region and traditional lands of the Pictou people. In the film’s most personal account, Michelle Francis-Denny tells the story of her grandfather, an elder Chief in the early 1960s, who was conned into signing over rights to the land by local government officials working in tandem with developers of a proposed paper mill. The waterways, known to generations of Pictou as the spirit-enriching Ossay, were ruined within days. Page gives a face to ‘big business villainy’ in archival footage of one John Bates, the aged white businessman whose indifference to the native population’s suffering is chilling (“So what? They weren’t living in the water.”)

Finally, There’s Something in the Water highlights the ‘Grassroots Grandmothers’, a woman’s collective from Stewiacke who take on the Alton Gas Corporation over the plans to dump mined salts into a sacred river in defiance of M’ikmaq treaty conditions. Their battle with local and federal officials (including a sidewalk face-off with PM Justin Trudeau), stemming from their spiritual bonds with the landscape of their ancestry, closes out the ‘past, present and future’ structure of Page’s matter-of-fact account, an approach that highlights the systemic prejudices and ingrained corruption of Canada’s democracy.

It is not the most elegant film; handheld camera work from a car’s passenger seat takes up an inordinate amount of the 73 minute running time. But perhaps a film that captures waves of sewerage vapour gliding towards a helpless population, or recounts the alcoholism and suicides that are the by-product of a community’s collapse need not purify its approach for aesthetic gain. There’s Something in the Water tells an ugly story about the horrendous exploitation of a proud people and their beautiful land, so urgency and honesty over artistry seems entirely appropriate.

ANOTHER PLAN FROM OUTER SPACE

Stars: Jessica Morris, Augie Duke, Scott Sell, Hans Hernke, Minchi Murakami and Elizabeth Saint.
Writer/director: Lance Polland

Available from April 10 on Amazon Prime and Vimeo on Demand from Bounty Films.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ½

Another Plan from Outer Space is an endearingly schizophrenic oddity, the latest typically atypical subversive genre lark from the increasingly ambitious shock-auteur, Lance Polland. Back in the hard desert setting that he favoured for his previous features Crack Whore (2012) and Werewolves in Heat (2015), Polland this time employs, dare we suggest, nuance and subtlety in a talky but well-told ode to old-school sci-fi B-pics.

Rich in influences that run the gamut from Rod Serling’s classic TV series Twilight Zone to Kurt Neumann’s Rocketship X-M (1950) to Stewart Raffill’s The Philadelphia Experiment (1984), Polland envisions a (very) near-future setting where Mars has been colonised and shuttles regularly ferry the common space traveller back and forth. The Genesis One is returning to Earth when solar flares send the ship hurtling into the desert soil. In true B-movie fashion, the Genesis One explodes in a massive fireball, only to have all but one of the six crew members thrown clear, largely unharmed and fully clothed.

Assuming command, Captain Jackson (Scott Sell, pitching for ‘Charlton Heston’ but landing on ‘Bruce Dern’, which is fine) rallies the survivors – the increasingly erratic Commander Strickland (Jessica Morris, terrific); medico, Dr Yushiro (Minchi Murakami, a regular in Polland’s troupe); chief engineer Hudson (Augie Duke); and, 2IC Lieutenant Brooks (Hans Hernke, the pic’s producer). The team know they have crashed back on Earth, but are bewildered by anomalies that begin to present themselves, such as radioactive shacks, distant music, unexplainable visitations.

Polland signals from the first frames that he has higher artistic goals than any time previously. The opening credit sequence is pure dazzle, melding visions of space travel and life on Mars with archival footage of U.S. Commanders in Chief (Kennedy, Obama, Trump) re-affirming the sense of exploration that demands Americans seek the great unknown that The Universe offers.

For much of the first two acts, he also allows his actors room to breathe life into what, on paper, may have amounted to fairly stock caricatures. The downside to this freedom is that scenes sometimes drag; editor Polland does writer/director Polland a slight disservice, with some of the film’s 98 minutes ripe for a pruning.

The other irreconcilable aspect of Another Plan from Outer Space is that title, which unavoidably conjures images of a certain Ed Wood film better known for its giddy awfulness. Lensed with consummate skill in affecting monochrome by Vita Trabucco and enlivened by Alessio Fidelbo’s appropriately theremin-flavoured score, Polland pays homage to the same films that inspired Mr. Wood, but offers a much more narratively assured and professionally packaged work of the imagination than anything from any ‘Worst Movie Ever’ list.

Polland has ambitions that Another Plan from Outer Space will spawn a sequel (stay through the credits). The film plays its Shyamalan-like ‘twist card’ particularly well, though the open-ended denouement may irk some. As the film morphs from ‘desert planet survival’ story into something else entirely, however, there is a sense that a further 90 minutes with these characters under this director’s guidance would be a very welcome development.

THE WAVE

Stars: Justin Long, Donald Faison, Katia Winter, Sheila Vand, Tommy Flanagan, Bill Sage, Sarah Minnich, Monique Candelaria, Ronnie Gene Blevins and Blythe Howard.
Writer: Carl W. Lucas
Director: Gille Klabin

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

A riff on A Christmas Carol in which Ebenezer Scrooge swallows The Red Pill is a good starting point for those readying to partake of Gille Klabin’s trippy, challenging, wholly satisfying freak-out, The Wave. The debut feature for the music vid/short film director utilises skills honed over a decade in that visually exciting sector in its representation of one morally wayward man’s descent into a drug-fuelled world of paranoia, psychedelica, time-tripping and life lessons.

With always engaging leading man Justin Long (pictured, above; with co-star Donald Faison) ensuring audiences stay connected despite some often out-there narrative developments, The Wave will play as well with those that dig anxiety-inducing adventures like Martin Scorsese’s After Hours as it will with those still under the influence of whatever helped them just enjoy nine hours of nightclubbing.

Long plays Frank, an insurance lawyer introduced salivating over the career opportunity that denying benefits to the family of a dead fireman will bring. Too long in the professional trenches and with a cash-strapped domestic life teetering on the abyss of banality, Frank decides to connect with his partying workmate Jeff (Donald Faison) for some midweek bar-hopping. The pair are soon doing shots with cool twenty-somethings Natalie (Katia Winter) and Theresa (Sheila Vand; pictured, below), who convince them the night is young (it isn’t) and a party with harder narcotics ought to be their first destination (it oughtn’t).

To impress Theresa and share in some tongue-led dual drug taking, Frank allows himself to be led astray by charismatic dealer Aeolus (a terrific Tommy Flanagan). Much to Frank’s increasing panic, the chemical indulgence leads to a lost wallet, an angry wife, hours of blacked-out time, a nightmarish psychotic episode during a boardroom presentation and, most troublingly, instantaneous jumps in time and place. The misadventures lead to a life-threatening few hours in the company of unhinged lowlife Ritchie (Ronnie Gene Blevins), until Frank comes to terms with his newly-acquired superpower and sets about making right the insanity of his life, past and present.

With Carl W Lucas’ script wisely building character and tension before transitioning into its clever, more fantastical genre twists, Long and Klabin craft an everyman’s journey through an otherworldly landscape that is both familiar but off-kilter enough to intrigue and ultimately amaze. It is to the actor’s credit that Frank is more than just the scumbag attorney/unfaithful spouse the first act of the film allows him to be. Klabin’s faith in Long’s empathic qualities (underused by Hollywood in leading parts, for some reason) pays off when the narrative niftily reveals its ace-in-the-hole. As the hedonistic bud who leads Frank astray, Faison is funny and suitably incredulous when the laws of physics are restructured in front of him; as Theresa, the girl for whom Frank is willing to alter his life’s trajectory after a few minutes in her company, the lovely Vand is well cast.

The transition from real world stability into time-leaping psychosis is made all the more convincing by the rich aural depth the production constructs. Tech contributions from sound design vet Eric Offin and mixer Carlos Garcia’s team heighten the already pretty ‘high’ visuals that Klabin and effects supervisor Eric Thelander conjure. That The Wave works with such transcendent qualities on the heart as well as the head is indicative of the great work done by all departments.

The Wave Official Trailer from Epic Pictures Group on Vimeo.

THE FACELESS MAN

Stars: Sophie Turling, Lucas Pittaway, Andy McPhee, Albert Goikhman, Brendan Bacon, Daniel reader, Daniel Facciolo, Lorin Kauffeld, Martin Astifo, Sunny S. Walia, Tom Vogel, Dirk Faller, Damian Oehme, Dave Beamish and Roger Ward.
Writer/Director: James Di Martino

Rating: ★ ★ ★

Exhibiting all the pros and cons of a truly unhinged independent film vision, writer/director James Di Martino allows his film-nerd subconscious to run wild with his first feature, The Faceless Man. If it didn’t propel forward with such a can’t-look-away energy and nightmarish sense of the macabre, you might side with one character when she ponders, direct to camera, “Is this a joke?”   

From the De Palma-esque single-take opening tracking shot (a father/daughter hospital scene that plays far more seriously than anything to follow), Di Martino ticks off references to his favourite filmmakers like he’s renting weeklies from his local video store. The most generic beats are in the establishment of his teen protagonists, five average nobodies who rent a pretty nice country homestead. Most central to the zigzag plotting is Emily (Sophie Thurling, giving her all), a cancer survivor who carries with her a darkness that manifests as the clawed, disfigured monster of the title (its reveal a jump-scare highlight of the film).

Such a premise is enough for most first-time directors, but Di Martino decides that while he has the cameras, he might as well have a crack at a stereotypical Tarantino/Ritchie criminal subplot, too. Seems the kids have purloined a case of top-tier narcotics that mobster Viktor Nov (Albert Goikhman, channelling 80s-era Steven Berkoff) wants back. He and his henchman arrive in the hamlet all guns blazing, only to find the local townspeople have their own anti-drug/pro-violence way-of-life.

It sounds nuts, and it largely is. But there’s a good deal of fun to be had in rummaging through the grab bag of references. If you look hard (hell, even if you don’t), you’ll find none-to-subtle nods to No Country for Old Men, Pulp Fiction, Reservoir Dogs, Scarface, Psycho, Scream, Get Out, the Elm Street films, even Home Alone; directorial styles echoed include those of Nicholas Windig Refn and giallo greats like Bava and Argento. The presence of Aussie acting giant Roger Ward instantly conjures the memory of Ozploitation classics Mad Max and Turkey Shoot and places The Faceless Man in the company of those fearless films from the Oz industry’s 10BA days.

Di Martino has been open about his battle with cancer, and it can be deduced that his love for film played a significant part in his recovery. So passionately does he homage the cult films of his generation, it is easy to forgive the often jagged scene-to-scene transitions. Tonally, the film hurtles from eccentric small town piss-takes (embodied by he-man biker ‘Barry the C**t’, played by a very funny Daniel Reader) to shocking acts of violence (a rape/murder sequence is truly disturbing). It is in Thurling’s performance that Di Martino the writer finds an ally who provides much-needed stability; her handling of his take on a survivor’s mix of anxiety and determination rings particularly true.

No doubt at all that The Faceless Man is a wildly indulgent work; the scale of Di Martino’s ambitious, convoluted vision leaves his own level of craft, that ability to keep his narrative manageable, in its wake. Yet it is that degree of unbridled daring to which the midnight-movie crowd, who gobble up such displays of all-or-nothing genre storytelling, will gravitate. The gore, giggles and film-buff fun that Di Martino delivers oozes ‘cult film’ cred from frame 1.

STAY OUT STAY ALIVE

Stars: Brandon Wardle, Brie Mattson, Sage Mears, William Romano-Pugh, Christina July Kim, David Fine and Barbara Crampton.
Writer/Director: Dean Yurke.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

Hoary old horror movie tropes still have a lot of life left in them if Dean Yurke’s Stay Out Stay Alive is any indication. The debutant director rakes over such well-trodden ground as Native American curses, creepy old mines and college kids who should no better than going bush, yet within those familiar parameters he delivers a convincingly scary spin on just how ugly human nature can be when tempted by greed and twisted by paranoia.

Like a million other films in the history of horror cinema, Yurke introduces his protagonists packed into a minivan, riffing on the pros and cons of camping deep in the woods. Gregarious blonde Bridget (Brie Mattson) is all giggly and flirty with her jock bf, Reese (Brandon Wardle); studious Amy (Christina July Kim) is focussed on her PhD paper, barely registering her nerdy guy Kyle (William Romano-Pugh); and, making up the numbers, just-dumped Donna (Sage Mears), who feels her solitary status so much it makes her wander into the night as her matched-up friends party by the campfire.

When Donna falls into an abandoned mine, her attempted rescue leads to the matter-of-fact discovery of a gold seam. No one considers the ease of its uncovering particularly strange, until clues point to a) the mass death of past visitors to the pit and b) a curse placed upon the woods by a Native American Chief, whose ghostly tribesman may still haunt the region (Yurke based it upon a legend stemming from the Mariposa Indian War of 1851, during which the son of a tribal elder was killed and the region was believed placed under a vengeful curse).

The production’s decision to cast actors slightly older than your average cabin-in-the-woods horror kids works in favour of the deeper themes at play and serves to elevate the psychological drama of Yurke’s narrative. Relationship dynamics, patriarchal hierarchy and middle-class entitlement all surface as rapidly as the storm waters that threaten the valley, each bringing a heightened and masterfully sustained tension between the characters. Yurke bounces jauntily through the prerequisite first act genre beats (phones don’t work, check; sexy tent action, check; red herring scares, check) before settling comfortably into the meat of his drama.

The pic’s supernatural visitations are superbly creepy; one sequence late in Act III, in which one character is confronted by spirit animal manifestations of the murdered Natives, is particularly chilling. Bringing legitimate horror movie cred is an extended cameo by the great Barbara Crampton (Re-Animator, 1985; From Beyond, 1986), whose off-kilter ‘Ranger Susanna’ represents another memorable turn in her indie horror-led career resurgence (You’re Next, 2011; Lords of Salem, 2012; We Are Still Here, 2015; Beyond the Gates, 2016; Reborn, 2018).

Despite its mid-budget pedigree and occasionally underground setting, it should be no surprise that Yurke’s debut looks so damn good. With 25 years behind him as one of Hollywood’s most respected digital artists and long ties to employer Industrial Light & Magic (who facilitated post work on the film), Yurke delivers a thrilling, visually engaging close-quarters shocker. Hard to believe with his CV he’d need to impress with an ambitious, accomplished calling-card work, but he has; 2½ decades into a distinguished b.t.s. career, Dean Yurke the director has arrived.

Stay Out Stay Alive - Official Trailer from Dean Yurke on Vimeo.