Bone Tomahawk (2015)

(3/3/16)

“Bone Tomahawk grants itself vigorously on subject matter, music, acting, and locations”

Alas, it’s once again another time where I get the opportunity to dissect and become discursive about a genre which is particularly growing on me: the western. For a genre which primarily died out commercially after the 1960’s, having the entitlement of seeing the occasional modern western here and there is certainly a privilege in this day and age. I cherish them – I adore the likes of 3:10 to Yuma (2007) and somewhat The Homesman (2014). Half of today’s cinema goers have little understanding about spaghetti, supernatural, or neo-westerns, and even with Tarantino more or less at the helm of current westerns, that precedent probably won’t change for a while. What makes Bone Tomahawk give that extra curve is that is infuses a deep horror element to it, spiraling from other horror-westerns such as Ravenous (1999) and the more recent The Hateful Eight (2015), which you can see my review of here.

The very premise of Bone Tomahawk entails the story of a group of captives who are abducted in the small yet seemingly innocent town of Bright Hope. Mystery surrounds as to who specifically captured them and why, and consequently, a rescue mission is considered by the town’s sheriff Franklin Hunt (Kurt Russell) along with three others. A feral arrow perched in the town’s jail the following morning is linked to a troglodyte clan, essentially cave dwellers who feast on humans. After speculating that their encampment could be the “Valley of the Starving Man”, the riders set off. As they embark on an approximate 5 day ride, some scenes are swept with those gorgeous riding shots, which focus on the environments and hallowing silhouettes. For it’s limited budget, Bone Tomahawk capitalizes more on the scenery than scene. But that doesn’t mean it’s bereft of substance. Along the way, various tropes and decadents encounter the frontier men as they dwell into the deep West, often encountering raiders and thieves. We begin to understand the surreal lives of our rescuers and are bestowed their situations.

Like the director Steve McQueen, Bone Tomahawk’s subtle use of music produces a distilling yet effective contrast to the audio-visual relationship. Bone chilling strings are enacted as the frontiers ride into the unexpected. As touched upon, for a movie that had an eagerly low budget of just under $2 million, almost everything is crafted solidly within it’s means, particularly the music. However, there were a few traits in the movie I personally thought staggered, such as the editing and lack of tension, primarily as it’s a horror. It felt far too clunky during the culminating action scenes and choreographically feeble, which subsequently zipped me out of the immersion. Granted, only so much could be done due to obvious reasons, but it could have been eluded if certain techniques were adopted (such as fast-paced editing when necessary or perhaps, although already great, more music to build that real sense of scare). Some ideas put forth were just too lacklustre to comprehend. One thing that is commendable is the hair, makeup, and the all round prosthetic element of the picture. It’s absolutely fantastic to which how some stuff was conceived considering it’s a movie which includes festering cannibals.

It’s also impressive to see Russell once again somewhat make a comeback to acting with a surprisingly high turnout of three roles in 2015, two of those being westerns. As always it’s so refreshing to see such an enigmatic actor, but ultimately it was Patrick Wilson whose performance swept me away in this picture. He is the one who goes through the most endurance and emotion throughout, and he executes it wondrously. Admittedly I have only seen him in a few other roles and know very little about his filmography, but his acting achievements in Bone Tomahawk has certainly merited my respect for him. He, in my opinion, is the apex of this feature.

Regardless to say, not much more can be said about Bone Tomahawk. It grants itself vigorously on subject matter, music, acting, and locations, and although it stumbles on a few directorial and editorial faults, Bone Tomahawk would still be a firm recommendation for the likes of independent features and western types. As we have already scuttled over the picture’s achieving budget and it’s limitations, I must once again profess my admiration for how everything ceded together so prudently. Films like this are to express aspirations for those who wish to forefront the movie production process and what can be done in certain circumstances. Bravo, S. Craig Zahler!

Matthew Alfrey

Biutiful (2010)

(19/09/15)

“This movie certainly embodies ideas, the metaphysical, and beyond”

Spirituality. Morality. Existentialism. If anyone within movie fandom knows me well, it is that I am a huge admirer of Alejandro González Iñárritu. Having been first exposed to Babel at around the age of 10, and subsequently Amores Perros and Birdman, Iñárritu conceivably defines the essence of social realism. Sadly, despite some uneasy remarks from critics surrounding Iñárritu for bestowing rather ‘uppity’, artsy or pretentious directing traits, Iñárritu has, for me, infallibly provided me with hours of happiness, anguish, culture, and concepts. Biutiful doesn’t deviate from that compilation, and though not for everyone (as a result from its rather lukewarm reviews), this movie certainly embodies ideas, the metaphysical, and beyond.

Biutiful stars the shrewd Oscar-winner Javier Bardem as he plays Uxbal, a single father of two who bestows an obscure ability (power, if you wish) to see and speak with the dead while simultaneously earning fraudulent wages from ‘managing’ and helping illegal immigrants find work in the deep slums of Barcelona, subsequently to make a living. Alongside this, he also has an uneasy on-and-off relationship with his alcoholic ex-wife as well as suffering from prostate cancer, unknown to many; fate ultimately encircles him. Though the fundamental premise of Biutiful may seem to be a movie placed within the fantasy genre, Iñárritu projects the 147 minute odyssey in a manner which entails that of a drama – as you would expect if you have studied Iñárritu’s catalouge – only subtly playing up to the ‘deceased’ undertones throughout the course of the film. Uxbal’s everyday life, such as his unsettling relationships with his brother, ex-wife, and though incredibly loving to them, children, aswell as his work ethic, place more of a monopoly as opposed to Uxbal’s ‘gift’ of communicating with the dead. His ‘gift’ vibrantly trickles in the background throughout the movie, which makes it so much more encapsulating and fascinating with its potential – some families even ask him to attend their family funerals so they can help communicate with their loved ones. Biutiful favours moral absolutism; Bardem’s character, for example, tries to help his illegal workforce by buying them heaters for their basement, or offering up refuge for those that are homeless. Uxbal gradually puts himself on a moral path by attempting to redeem himself by enacting on his own deeds of common decency.

Biutiful ultimately is a beautiful movie, though an incredibly discomforting, disturbing and poignant one. Despite the literally abdominal and detestable world in which we are thrown upon in, coupled with the absence of levity, I still feel there is a touch of hope wavering beyond the physical (very much like Edward Scissorhands). There is so much more beyond to what we actually see, though Iñárritu intentionally plays on these vibes to secure a great deal of ambiguity, thought, metaphors, and rationale from his audience. But it’s also a film that isn’t afraid to show what reality can really be – it doesn’t pander on all the happy things in life, and it brutally depicts a flavour of the real world we are living in.

In terms of peripheries, Iñárritu achieved this sense of anguish by adopting a shaky-cam effect to clout the disarray and unease – Rodrigo Prieto, whose filmography also includes The Wolf of Wall Street, Argo, and Babel, wonderfully fulfills the optics. Bardem’s performance fuels a magnitude of brilliance – he keeps the film magnetic, rampant, and solemn. Iñárritu wrote this specifically for Bardem in mind, a commendable entity whose acting traits have lived up to roles that merit exposition and influence – take No Country For Old Men for example. Gustavo Santaolalla marks another return for Iñárritu as his occasional score crops up in times of desideratum – to the uninitiated, Santaolalla’s Oscar binding career has soared him to critical acclaim with accompanying soundtracks in films such as Brokeback Mountain and Babel. He also reportedly wrote around 27 pieces of music for the film, of which only 4 make an appearance. Though sparse and infrequent, the music applies itself beautifully, occasionally marking itself in times of montage or melancholy.

Though visually a rather linear movie, Biutiful entails themes and ideas which are seriously complex. This is the type of movie you literally think about constantly days after you watch it, regarding that you see it with an open mind and if it corresponds with your viewing criteria. I am utterly fascinated by this movie and wish to observe, discuss, and analyse it more because it’s adopted its own formality and entourage. I am eagerly looking forward to The Revenant, Iñárritu’s upcoming sixth film. But for Biutiful, Iñárritu delivers a soaring spectacle.

Matthew Alfrey

Legend (2015)

(12/09/15)

“I knew when violence ensued because the rather rambunctious fella sitting next to me would shout ‘BOOM!’ or ‘wahey!’ every time a punch was thrown”

Tom Hardy once again makes a swift revival to mainstream cinema as his historical potrayal of the Kray twins advances into the limelight. Admittedly I was bereft of the very existence of these two contentious and dubious figures, though as always it was an enjoyable experience to watch Legend blindly and without any preconceptions. In addition, Hardy is flagrantly warming to be one of my favourite actors as his filmography proves to display a rather versatile assortment – Bronson, The Dark Knight Rises, Mad Max: Fury Road, and Inception have all coloured Hardy across various genres, and he has often been the embodiment of British hard-men, villians, and anti-heroes. Legend reaffirms that embodiment in this significantly violent crime thriller.

First and foremost, commendations must be awarded to Hardy’s most prudent performance(s) as he plays our two frontmen, Ronald & Reggie Kray. What is more appreciated is the driven psychology Hardy had to implement for these roles, as this character-compelled romp follows the story of Reggie Kray and his responsibility to care for his brother after his release from a psychiatric ward for his violent behaviour; this subsequently becomes a precedent throughout the movie. Albeit alongside this theme is also Reggie’s love-life to Frances (portrayed wonderfully by once child-star Emily Browning, who cultivates a very convincing cockney accent despite her Australian roots – however, her career has usually meddled different dialects), their organised crime syndicate in their gang “The Firm”, Ronald’s open bisexuality, and their experiences with celebrities which ultimately outcasts them as notoriety.

Though despite the well projected performances, Legend panders more on style over substance, which of course is never a bad thing, but Browning’s character had to fulfill narration throughout the course of the movie to tell us what was going on. Understandably, a story which willfully lingers over several years will need a sense of dictation, but this movie, whether intentional or not, had no sense of time. It felt as if it was expressed throughout a period of a year, which belittles the whole of premise of the Kray twins as they dominated London’s organised crime scene throughout the course of the 50’s and 60’s. The plot dawdles for some time, becoming discursive as a result from various subplots, and while it’s historically enthralling to view London’s grim East-end during the 1960’s, as well as listen to the obvious hardman dialects, the very length of the film (130 minutes) seems far too long for what is shown. Despite the various talky-talky scenes and the occasional punch-ups in a pub, the film’s third act dragged the most, anticipating a climax that never came.

Upon watching, violence became the obvious theme throughout the picture. I knew when violence ensued because the rather rambunctious fella sitting next to me would shout ‘BOOM!‘ or ‘wahey!‘ every time a punch was thrown or stab of the blade occurred, and while irritating at the time, it became rather humourous afterwards. While Legend does try to play up to various quips and comedic jibes, for me, it’s attempt at the humour element was not potent enough alongside it’s story; either that or perhaps I’m generally just grumpy, or the audacious person to my left significantly lowered my humour tolerance. In essence, I thought it tried too hard to be funny.

While Legend retains some strong, vocal elements such as the quirky speech, decent performances, and gritty nature, it conclusively wraps itself in a frame just above mediocrity. Nothing particularly took me by surprise other than very existence of the Kray twins which has encumbered a profound effect on my recent Google history. But alas, with a film that had daring potential, Legend ultimately renders itself average.

Matthew Alfrey

Straight Outta Compton (2015)

(7/09/15)

“With it’s powerful and enthralling soundtrack, F. Gary Gray rigorously delivers an attire of impression with his directing capabilities”

Straight Outta Compton reveals the clamorous-bounded biopic of controversial hip-hop group NWA, who soared to critical acclaim by revolutionizing gangsta rap and expressing the true realities of life in their city-home Compton through socio-political lyrics. The movie marvels at their rise to stardom, depicting their accounts through recording sessions, energetic (often troubling) concerts, and lively parties; while also tackling the denigrating issues such as police brutality, LA riots, corrupt managers, and the groups’ internal conflicts and struggles.

F. Gary Gray develops a decent, straight, yet free-flowing two-and-a-half-hour biopic aided with eagerly tremendous performances from O’Shea Jackson Jr, Corey Hawkins, and Jason Mitchell (the former being Ice Cube’s actual son), whom all dexterously fulfill the vitality of their roles. The reprisal of the street dialect emphasizes the authenticity and true grit of what this movie is all about.

Paul Giamatti’s unexpected appearance once again glamorizes the sheer reality of this man’s wondrous acting capability – from Big Fat Liar to his Oscar-nominated Cinderella Man, Giamatti’s distinctive performance becomes the catalyst for the NWA’s success as he plays manager Jerry Heller. Soon after offering to manage the notorious rap group, Heller becomes accustomed to their message and motives, and soon adopts the authentic and rugged style of the NWA’s very premise: to address the reflections of the harsh realities they grew up with. Giamatti’s character even prevents the group from being arrested after they are put under suspicion of gang affiliation, which discursively helps me move onto my next subject.

Gray clearly wasn’t afraid to depict America’s huge police brutality/race problem, particularly in a light so shortly after the Missouri and Ferguson mishaps. NWA’s controversial hit “Fuck Tha Police” plays a rather vibrant role throughout the film, even to a stage where, of course, police deem it unfit for them to play it before a concert, threatening to arrest the group members if they do so. Of course, the First Amendment makes a comfortable cameo. With moments like this along with footage of the Rodney King beatings, NWA’s controversy surrounding their apparent misogynistic, pro-drug-and-crime lyricism are vigorously highlighted throughout the movie. However, much of the groups’ internal conflicts between not only the members but the record labels seem staggeringly more apparent, and that subplot subsequently prospers more than the physical violence.

Though the cinematography has an interesting approach to its style, in particular the various use of handy-cams aided with the flavoured lighting, I would’ve found it more immersive with a rawer, stubborner look. Take films such as This is England or Inherent Vice, movies that are made to look for that era. Having that tint of graininess would’ve been so subtle yet immensely effective, and as it lacked it, there were times I became detracted from the zone of the period this was shot in.

Overall, Straight Outta Compton undoubtedly offers a sea of conflict, drama, and competition. With it’s powerful and enthralling soundtrack, F. Gary Gray rigorously delivers an attire of impression with his directing capabilities. The replications of most characters were projected adequately, particularly the crop-up of Tupac near the film’s finale, and although the movie could of visually had a more immersive feel, it was dynamically well-crafted. A most certain recommend for fans of biopics and music.

Matthew Alfrey

Featured

Reviews

Welcome to Malfrey’s Movie Madness, a site dedicated to film reviews written by me, Matthew Alfrey. Listed below are the most recent reviews written chronologically by date of publishing. Alternatively, you can explore more of the site via the links above or using the navigation panel in the top right hand corner. Enjoy!

Reviews Written in 2016

– Barry Lyndon (1975) (Theatrical Re-Release)

– Showgirls (1995)

– Come and See (1985)

– Bone Tomahawk (2015)

– The Hateful Eight (2015)

– Star Wars: Episode VII – The Force Awakens (2015)

Reviews Written in 2015

– Black Mass (2015)

– Bridge of Spies (2015)

– Macbeth (2015)

– The Martian (2015)

– Solace (2015)

– Biutiful (2010)

– Everest (2015)

– Legend (2015)

– Straight Outta Compton (2015)

– The Liberator (2013)

The Liberator (2013)

(3/09/15)

“A mindful politically-driven drama which staggers on its potential”

Alberto Arvelo’s The Liberator had been a hopeful spectacle for me after viewing the trailer I became accustomed to a year prior. It opened up a great deal of interest to me; it bounded the biographic and historic life of Simón Bolívar, a Venezuelan revolutionary, sparsely influenced by the American War of Independence (among other sources), with the intent of freeing large provinces of South America from Spanish monarchical rule. The sole premise of the movie easily allured me – Simón Bolívar, along with the likes of Lincoln, were concrete figures in history who provided a catalyst of hope for their own people; Bolívar himself was even called Liberator by his supporters, hence the film’s title. As a Western European, I was sightless in such an immeasurable and huge part of history that was embarrassingly unknown to me prior watching. The film’s use of Spanish, tinted with various bouts of English in occasional scenes, widened that flavour of authenticity and rawness, adding to that sense of true grit and immersion.

The film’s generous budget warranted the movie to capture utterly awe-inspiring shots. The cinematography undoubtedly bestowed a mountainous role in this project, with the utterly wondrous scenery predominantly being filmed in Venezuela, in rich locations such as the Canaima National Park. Coupled with the glorious style the film was shot in, the movie panders a beautiful first opening shot, and correlating to Spielberg’s Lincoln, it takes a fair few minutes for us to see the face of our hero, the camera making clever use of manipulation to introduce us gradually to a figure so statute and powerful.

However, despite the rather hefty sum the movie was granted, this is a mindful politically-driven drama which staggers on its potential. Simón Bolívar was a hugely complex man with a hugely complex history; this two-hour picture doesn’t perpetuate that sense of justice we need. I felt no true sense of impact and motivation throughout the course of the movie – we see little oppression from the actions of the Spanish (or “Royalists”) from Bolívar’s perspective other than a small scene or two which involved the use of slaves. It makes us wonder why Bolívar, a privileged aristocrat, is actually fighting this cause. Clearly our antagonists have meek character development, as we are hardly introduced to them. But that hidden precedent of angst and pain we didn’t get to see lost the realistic tendency of Bolívar’s motives. Comparatively, 12 Years A Slave is a movie which had the actual tenacity to depict the brutalization of African-Americans, and as a result we could see why Solomon Northup was so eager for emancipation.

Bolívar’s character and intentions nearer the end of the film become a hazy cloud, and it’s abrupt conclusion left holes that made me pander to do some more research on the life of this polarizing figure. It attempted to become more political than adventurous during the movie’s third act (as expected), but subsequently felt too quick and brushed over once Bolívar’s adversarial ideologies started to emerge, as if the creator’s didn’t want us to feel any dislike against our protagonist. In Schindler’s List we understand that Schindler’s initial intentions were to take advantage of war Jews for profiteering, yet Schindler is still known as one of the most compassionate and influential people during that period because his good deeds overpowered the bad ones. Why was Arvelo so afraid to show that?

Easily, this film’s intentions and awareness of South American history could have been expanded into a three-hour treat, a miniseries, or possibly a trilogy. It left audiences wondering more into this amazing history and how intricate Bolívar’s life actually was. Like the Wachowski’s Cloud Atlas, this project was incredibly ambitious to translate into film, something which of course, as previously mentioned, had the utmost potential to explain more about the life of this wondrous character – which it unfortunately lacked. Not fantastic, but not terrible either.

Matthew Alfrey

Malfrey's Movie Madness

"He killed them with their love. That's how it is every day, all over the world."

Category: Review

Bone Tomahawk (2015)

Biutiful (2010)

Legend (2015)

Straight Outta Compton (2015)

Reviews

The Liberator (2013)

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