Outtakes

Furry Feathered Friday

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Swapped

by Hope Madden

Director Nathan Greno pulls from a lot of influences for his new feature, the Netflix exclusive Swapped. The vibrant colors and poetically gorgeous woodland creatures conjure Miyazaki, particularly the more serene scenes from Princess Mononoke. And the bit where the little chipmunk looking thing and the big plumy bird switch bodies, that is obviously the Disney classic Freaky Friday. 

Swapped is a visual feast, especially the earliest sequences when a young Pookoo (chipmunk like thing) named Ollie (voiced in youth by Camden Brooks and in adulthood by Oscar winner Michael B. Jordan) explores the waters around Pookoo Island. But Ollie’s mom and dad (Justina Machado, Cedric The Entertainer) warn him that everything off island is dangerous. Everything!

Ollie doesn’t believe them, so things, of course, go terribly wrong. Mean birds steal the seeds that keep the Pookoo alive, and Ollie has to make things right. But instead, he Freaky Fridays with one of those birds (Juno Temple), and suddenly everybody’s in a terrible state.

Swapped takes that time honored tale to share a meaningful fable on the power of empathy. Temple and Jordan both provide strong voice talent—Temple is especially on point.

Tracy Morgan is ideal as Boogle, an enormous, simple-minded fish. Honestly, Swapped offers Morgan more of an opportunity to stretch than any role he’s had in recent memory, and he nails it.

And while the story leans into familiar territory, its tale is important. Greno and his team of writers don’t complicate it beyond what youngsters will gladly follow, nor do they water down their message. The result is emotional, funny, sometimes even harrowing. And really gorgeous.

Swapped doesn’t do enough to set itself apart from other animated wonders, but what it does it does really well. It’s a powerful story beautifully animated and well told.

Outtakes

Last Podcast Standing

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Didn’t Die

by Rachel Willis

For her 100th podcast episode, Vinita (Kiran Deol) is hosting a live broadcast. Only warm bodies allowed – no biters! Director Meera Menon, co-writing with Paul Gleason, brings her own vision to life during a zombie apocalypse in Didn’t Die.

The people of this world have been surviving among zombies for some time. So, rather than bearing witness to the beginning of an outbreak of flesh-hungry undead, we get to occupy a world that’s more “been there, done that.”

Of course, every aspect of the zombie genre has been mined countless times in various mediums, so this take isn’t exactly new, either. However, Menon offers something a bit different in just how dull the apocalypse turns out to be.

There are several interesting elements at play. Zombies, known as biters, tend to lie dormant during the day. That leaves them vulnerable, but not everyone is comfortable killing them. One woman laments that her beloved dogs were bitten and had to be killed. These aspects create a lived-in world that helps ground the characters.

However, Menon struggles with the film’s tone, and Vinita never feels like a fully realized character. It’s clear that the intention is to paint Vinita as someone closed off from those around her; the way in which it is done, however, doesn’t allow for a connection with the audience.

For this reason, the movie lacks emotional depth. Though the second half picks up in intensity, without a connection to characters, the tension never quite leaves you on the edge of your seat.

The filmmakers are clearly doing what they can to create something different with Didn’t Die. They just don’t quite get there.

Outtakes

Hell’s Kitchen

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Salt Along the Tongue

by Matt Weiner

It should be a given that any good exorcism movie worth its, well, salt comes with a massive trigger warning for emetophobia – fear of vomiting. And that applies to the stylish and sensuous Salt Along the Tongue, sure. But the gripping new possession horror from writer-director Parish Malfitano spends more time reveling in the potent allure of food and its power to bring together cultures, families and more than a few primordial memories that have been buried far too long.

Awkward and shy Mattia (Laneikka Denne) has her insular life turned upside down when her mother Mina (Dina Panozzo) dies suddenly. While Mattia would prefer to stay with Mina’s pregnant partner Yuma (Mayu Iwasaki), the lack of a specified guardian forces her to move in with Mina’s estranged twin sister, Carol (also Panozzo).

The boisterous and self-assured Carol welcomes Mattia into her confident world. Carol stars in a cooking show that she films with her friends and partner. Mattia has inherited her family’s aptitude for cooking (if not her aunt’s camera-ready demeanor), and Carol swiftly thrusts Mattia onto the show. The all-female cast gives Mattia a safe sisterhood to assert her own identity while working through the trauma and grief of her mother’s passing.

Soon this trauma seems to take on a malevolent physical form. Carol suspects the work of the malocchio (evil eye), which the film tells us is a curse caused by envy or jealousy. But whether the culprit is Mattia, the work of Mina from beyond the grave or something else entirely is a mystery Carol needs to solve before the entity fully takes over Mattia and destroys Carol.

Given the budget, the film’s horror draws from the atmospheric and thematic side over splashy scares. But this ends up being an asset under Malfitano’s direction. There’s a pervasive tension that echoes the film’s clear influences from both The Exorcist and Rosemary’s Baby, with the ratcheting unease and stomach-churning secrets providing more than enough shocks.

There are some threads that you wish Malfitano pulled on a little harder. The film sets up so much visually, including some clever doubling between Mina/Carol and Mattia, that the actual climax felt almost rushed and perfunctory. 

But Malfitano and the film’s stars do a lot with what they have. The food on display opens up a gateway to illicit desires and the past, with Proustian reverie giving way to demonic nightmares. There’s more than enough to chew on here.

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Fashion Comeback

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The Devil Wears Prada 2

by Hope Madden

It has been 20 years since Andy Sachs (Anne Hathaway) learned how to dress. And now, after two decades of award-winning investigative work, she’s back at Runway Magazine thanks to the death of journalism.

What makes her think print magazines aren’t also mortally wounded?

The Devil Wears Prada 2 is essentially a mash note to all things analog. Can Andy and the gang save this fashion icon through sheer determination, journalistic integrity and fashion sense?

Hathaway’s co-stars return: Emily Blunt as the irascible Emily, Stanley Tucci as the warm yet caustic Nigel, and Meryl Streep as the formidable Miranda Priestly. Also returning: impeccable costuming, gorgeous locations and glamour. And quips, acerbic remarks, and fish-out-of-water humor. Amanda Priestly flying coach?! Bon dieu!

Yes, Miranda’s lost a bit of her bite. She’s even hanging up her own coat now, thanks to the ever-present HR checklist (a fairly funny gag during staff meetings). No, the real villain in TDWP2 is the soulless maw of progress, personified by the CEO’s son (B.J. Novak) and Emily’s billionaire boyfriend (Justin Theroux). And fast fashion.

While Blunt, Tucci and Streep slip easily back into the old skin, it’s tough to believe Hathaway’s Andy, after years of global investigative journalism, hasn’t developed a thicker skin. Indeed, Andy’s well-intentioned naivete causes as many problems this go-round as it did in 2006.

But that’s the point, right? Update context to the degree necessary but play the hits. Returning director David Frankel and screenwriter Aline Brosh McKenna understand the assignment.

The stakes never feel as high as they should, the resolution is a telegraphed fantasy, and it’s less fun seeing Miranda Priestly brought down a peg than you’d expect. But Streep looks amazing, and she gives Miranda’s third act the bittersweet vulnerability it deserves. She has too few scenes with Tucci if only because the two are so effortlessly perfect onscreen together. Still, his eye-rolling snarky nurturing is as charming as ever.

Blunt is again the butt of the joke and, again, she shoulders the comedic weight with aplomb.

The Devil Wears Prada 2 ends up being a jacket that doesn’t fit quite as well as it did years ago, but it’s comfortable and it still looks pretty good.  

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Serkis Circus

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Animal Farm

by George Wolf

You may have questions going into the newly realized Animal Farm. And it’s a good bet you’ll have more coming out.

Who is this for exactly? What’s with these changes? Did someone think Orwell didn’t get the point across? And just…why?

For his part, director Andy Serkis has addressed some of these concerns in the weeks leading up to the film’s release. Serkis has stressed that he worked closely with Orwell’s estate, striving to update the classic tale with modern themes and a nod toward understanding “the contradictions within its author.”

That is an ambitious goal, to say the least, and one that Serkis, screenwriter Nicholas Stoller and a star-studded voice cast can’t completely bring to market.

The first major adjustment is adding the character of Lucky (voiced by Gatan Matarazzo), a young pig that serves as a moral compass for younger viewers. Lucky is easily influenced by boss hog Napoleon (Seth Rogen) as the farm rules of equality and fairness are twisted and broken.

Lucky is key to Napoleon’s plan of exploitation, and to making hard working animals like Boxer (Woody Harrelson) believe Napoleon has their best interests at heart. So why is he cozying up to the cyber truck driving tycoon Frieda Pilkington (Glenn Close) and Mr. Whymper the banker (Steve Buscemi)?

Well, some animals are more equal than others. That’s always been the rule!

The fart jokes and obvious humor are a bit jarring for such cherished material, but make it clear Serkis is aiming to give younger audiences a primer in Orwell’s belief that absolute power corrupts absolutely. It’s best to keep that in mind when the movie delivers a new, hope-filled ending that’s a few pastures away from Orwell’s bleak reveal.

To adults who revere that original cautionary tale, much of this overhaul may feel like a blasphemous Chicken Run rebellion. These animals have to decide for themselves that they’ve been hoodwinked, don’t they? So isn’t Lucky’s hand-holding a bit contradictory? And as well meaning as this might be, why risk diluting the power of Orwell that will come when the kids are old enough to grasp it?

After a series of examples both pro and anti-capitalism, the end credits montage cements the message that the enemies are the absolutely corrupt of any ilk. And history has shown they can be overcome.

Some of it works, yes. But honestly, it’s just impossible to come at it with the fresh eyes and clear heads of the ones it appears to be meant for. Do I respect what this Serkis circus is trying to do? Yes.

Do I wish he did it with an original story not named Animal Farm?

Also yes.

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Wrecked Him? Nearly Killed Him!

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Deep Water

by George Wolf

It isn’t too long before counting all the borrowed ideas becomes the most fun Deep Water is offering.

It’s a shark movie, so…Jaws. But you’ll also spot Titanic, the Airport franchise, The Shallows, Train to Busan, The Perfect Storm and a good bit of The Poseidon Adventure.

At least they acknowledge that last one with a Shelly Winters wisecrack, and it’s welcome. Because for a film that seems to think it’s farther above a Sharknado sequel than it ends up being, a bit of self awareness is long overdue.

First, director Renny Harlin has to get us on a plane to Shanghai, so the team of six screenwriters (six!) runs us through a some broadly-drawn Airport style intros of passengers and crew.

In the cockpit we meet the rugged First Officer with personal demons (Aaron Eckhart), the veteran Captain with scalawag charm (Sir Ben Kingsley), and the patient flight attendants (Lucy Barrett, Chrissy Jin). On the passenger list we have the asshole (Angus Sampson), the idiot parents looking to join the Mile High Club (Kelly Gale and Ryan Bown), kids in peril (Molly Belle Wright and Elijah Tamati), the Shelly Winters (Kate Fitzpatrick) and two twentysomething dudes who almost throw hands early on (might they be forced to put aside petty differences and work together??)

The plane crashes into the sea, and the placement of the two main chunks of wreckage allows Harlin to execute some Poseidon-esque set pieces in between shark attacks. Those sharks are CGI, of course, and their ridiculous gymnastics make you long for the true tension of a mechanical maneater that often broke down.

Nothing here is the least bit scary, the writing is obvious and overwrought, and the entire tone is caught awkwardly between giving in to sharksploitation silliness and striving for a well-plotted thriller.

Only Kingsley seems to know which end of the pool Deep Water belongs in. Too bad nobody else let the Cap’n make something fun happen with all these remnants of better movies..

Shudder Premiere

Wicked

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Heresy

by Hope Madden

I’m really enjoying the evolution of the witch movie. There was a time when you either had 1) evil witches out to damn the souls of all in their view, or 2) evil men damning innocent women with claims of witchcraft. But lately, there seem to be other ideas. Like, what if choosing witchcraft over religion is actually the best option?

Credit Robert Eggers for getting the push started with his 2015 masterpiece The VVitch. Saïd Belktibia’s Hood Witch (2023) tangled the natural female versus patriarchal male threads with the complications and complicity of capitalism, further blurring right from wrong. And now Didier Konings wonders whether the morally superior choice is to disappear into the woods to commune with the fae.

Konings sets his latest, Heresy, in a medieval Dutch village. Frieda (Anneke Sluiters) awakens to find she’s started her period again. Still not pregnant. Sluiters’s despondent look tells you all you need to know.

In fact, Konings relies on gestures, glances, and weighty expressions to tell a lot of his tale of religion versus nature, male versus female. Heresy runs barely more than an hour, but it doesn’t feel skimpy. You learn what you need to know when Sasha (Nola Elvis Kemper), her throat and writes purple with bruises, is required by priest and community to forgive Gelo (Léon van Waas) as they release him from the cramped wooden cage in the village center. And again, when Hikko (Len Leo Vincent) chastises Frieda for referring to her barrenness as “their problem.”

And when Frieda has no choice but to run from Gelo into the dark, forbidden forest, who would blame her for wanting to return?

Heresy is not heavy on horror, but what Konings delivers is memorable.  Like the balance of the film, the horror is primarily implied. But when we do see something, it’s quite something.

As is Sluiters’s performance. She covers an enormous emotional range with very little dialog to support her. Her chemistry with the ensemble and her physical performance, particularly the way every indignity hangs on her expression, are captivating. Her rage, when it finally breaks the surface, is glorious.

Heresy probably could have used a little more time to fill out its story, but at 61 minutes, it certainly doesn’t outstay its welcome. Konings gives you what you need to understand why women choose the bear.

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Irish Spirits

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Hokum

by Hope Madden

Damian Mc Carthy is doing something right. The Irish filmmaker writes original stories, invests time and attention to visual storytelling, and produces eerie, memorable horror. There’s an elegance to his movies, but his tales are not meant simply to provoke thought or to elevate the genre. Caveat, Oddity, and now Hokum draw from a long tradition of Irish horror storytelling and love a jump scare as much as anybody.

Mc Carthy’s latest sees an absolute prick of an American writer (Adam Scott) checking into an Irish inn to spread his parents’ ashes. Is he having a problem with writer’s block? He is! Is the hotel haunted? It is!

Hokum does feel less original than either of the filmmaker’s previous features, but somehow that works in its favor. Mc Carthy knows you think you’ve seen this before, and he leans into its familiarity to lull you.

Scott’s prickly, unpleasant performance at the center of the film is a gift. His unlikability gives the film a nice edge. Scott’s lowkey, brittle performance anchors the macabre whimsy so gorgeously brought to life by Til Frolich’s production design. The inn looks like a place where time stood still, quaint to the eyes of a tourist, spooky in the hands of a talented filmmaker.

Though Mc Carthy’s script feels less original than expected, he knows how to light, pace, and frame scenes to heighten dread. The sound design is also an eerie delight. And Mc Carthy reminds you that jump scares are not just for kiddie horror.

It would be easy for Hokum to feel overstuffed. The protagonist’s own ghost story, a very flesh-bound horror, and don’t forget the witch—that’s a lot to fit into a honeymoon suite. Scott’s grounded performance provides a clear path through it, and Mc Carthy ‘s skill at crafting intelligent yet primal horror pulls it together.

Scene after scene balances a funhouse vibe with Irish folktale spookiness, and the vintage horror beauty of every frame beguiles you. Caviat offered quietly claustrophobic terror. Oddity delivered clever, melancholy horror. Hokum feels more polished yet more old school. It is perhaps less terrifying than Mc Carthy’s previous features, but it’s a haunting good time.

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Full of Grace

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Mother Mary

by Hope Madden

Whatever it is director David Lowery is making, I’m watching. Not every film lands but he always delivers something thought provoking, and his best films are unlike anything else you’ll see.

Ain’t Them Bodies Saints, A Ghost Story, and The Green Knight were cinematic wonders. His latest, Mother Mary, is as tough to pin down as any of these, and just as gorgeous.

Anne Hathaway is Mother Mary, a Lady Gaga styled music icon and diva in the midst of some kind of prolonged torment who seeks the aid of an old friend. Michaela Coel is Sam, Mother Mary’s oldest confidant and the designer who created the pop star’s legendary look. Ostensibly, Mother Mary needs a gown. In reality, both women are open wounds who need the other, either to heal or to die.

Essentially a chamber piece—more than half of the film takes place in Sam’s barnlike studio—Mother Mary is as poetic and dramatic as a pop song. Lowery, who also writes, seems genuinely empathetic of the isolating nature of superstardom, particularly for those vulnerable souls who create their own art.

Lowery’s vision benefits immeasurably from two outstanding performances. Hathaway seems equally comfortable in semi-surreal concert footage as she does with the raw, constant verge-of-tears intimate drama. And Coel may be the one person who cuts so fascinating a figure that she makes Hathaway look ordinary.

Their fraught back and forth, though occasionally overwritten, feels lived in and wounded but seeking. What they ask of each other allows the filmmaker to pose, but not answer, questions about connection, authenticity, superficiality, fame, creativity, and who ultimately owns the artist and their art.

It’s a heady piece wrapped in silks and sequins, and it won’t be for everybody. But Lowery and his small cast make bold, risky choices. It works because the actors are fully committed and taking those risks themselves, some of which don’t pay off. But Cole and Hathaway bring their vulnerability, buoyed by tremendous talent. The result is a film that feels quite unlike anything else, and for any piece of art, sometimes that’s accomplishment enough.

Hope Madden and George Wolf … get it?