Disc Reviews

What 31 Nights of Terror list would be complete without an addition from the master of macabre himself, Edgar Allen Poe, this time in the form of an anthology series that transforms three of his dark tales into a visual experience that will haunt you. Tales of Poe treats the audience to a front-row seat for the stories of The Tell-Tale Heart, The Cask of Amontillado, and Dreams. Fair warning, these are not direct interpretations. There is some artistic license taken, but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Who wants to just watch imitation when you can watch recreation, and that is exactly what Tales of Poe offers.  I hope you have a strong stomach. Who am I kidding, if you are reading this, you must, because Tales of Poe pulls no punches in its tribute to the master. As I mentioned, there are a few artistic changes such as some gender changes to specific characters, but the essence of each of the stories remains the same. (Yes, I skimmed the featured stories in order to double check that they did the source material justice.)

The best way to approach this type of review is to break down each story individually and in the order of my favorite to least favorite, which also happens to be the order in which the stories unfold.

Girl in Woods is a very conflicting film. The writing and direction were wonderful, as well as the setting: I have previously written about my fondness of independent horror films set in the woods (see my review of The Interior). However, the film’s post-production and the acting were not up to par with the maturity set forth by the intricate story and overall tone of the film. The film succeeds in establishing an atmosphere of fear and mania through cleverly fragmenting the narrative through cryptic flashbacks, but it fails to impress with visuals, simply because of poor quality.

Grace and her boyfriend, Jim, enjoy a weekend alone in the woods, wherein Jim proposes to his loving partner. After a few scenes of flirtatious banter from the couple, a terrible accident leaves Grace stranded in the woods alone. The “terrible accident” in question is coincidently linked to a traumatic event from Grace’s past, one that she never entirely recovered from. As the “indoors-y” woman navigates the vast woods by herself, she must overcome both memory and temptation as she tries to survive the wilderness and her own mind.

There's a black man in our kitchen cooking eggs!”

The kitchen-bound black man in this case is Eddie Murphy in Mr. Church, which on the surface appears to be the latest in a sneakily long line of movies (Driving Miss Daisy, The Help, The Butler) where saintly, subservient African Americans enlighten their white counterparts. Those movies can be cloying at best and downright insulting at worst if placed in the wrong hands. But if done right, they can really resonate with audiences. (As evidenced by the fact that the movies I mentioned earlier were pretty big hits.) Mr. Church falls somewhere in between.

When it comes to spy novelist John le Carre (Tinker Taylor Soldier Spy, The Night Manager), his books seem to produce great films and mini-series but are far from being box-office darlings. Each production of one of his novels seems to be filled with talent in front of and behind the camera.  When it comes to the release of Our Kind of Traitor, despite the impressive cast it’s a film that managed to slip through the cracks and seems to have limped its way to a DVD/Blu-ray release when really it’s a film that deserves to be appreciated more on the big screen.  While it may not be filled with the spectacle of special effects and explosions, it’s a film that garners some impressive performances throughout and has a story that quickly pulls the viewer in.

Perry (Ewan McGregor) and his wife Gail (Naomie Harris) are supposed to be on a romantic holiday.  It’s the kind of holiday a couple takes together to try to salvage their relationship before throwing in the towel and heading to divorce court.  Perry is a professor with infidelity issues, while his wife is the breadwinner of the family as an overworked attorney.  For them it seems the vacation has worked and the intimacy in their relationship has been rekindled, that is until Perry accepts an invitation from a Russian stranger.  Dima (Stellan Skarsgard), is an overpowering presence as he convinces Perry to tag along with him as he goes to a lavish house party and later for a morning tennis match.  What Perry believes is nothing more than generous hospitality is instead a charade to pull him into doing something very dangerous.

"Lets go find you a fish."

I've been told enough times that it is often not a good idea to meet your heroes. It's too often impossible for anyone to live up to expectations, particularly when they are already up on a pedestal in our minds. All humans have their flaws, and Ernest Hemingway was no exception. I never met him. He killed himself around the time I was busy being born. I often joked to my writing professors that he feared my arrival. The truth is that he had so many demons. It isn't a secret today, and it wasn't then, at least not for anyone familiar with his work. But Denne Bart Petitclerc did meet Hemingway after writing him a bit of a fan letter in 1957. The result was that Petitclerc was invited into Hemingway's inner circle at a time in Hemingway's life where his demons were beginning to catch up with him. Place that encounter in the larger environment of Castro's rebel uprising in Cuba at the time, and you might have an interesting story. Petitclerc certainly thought that he did. He wrote a screenplay and shopped it around for decades even up to his own death in 2006. Unlike the many fish on Hemingway's line and tackle, no one bit. It's possible that Papa Hemingway In Cuba is the reason.

“The countless lives we lost in the War Of '96 did not perish in vain. They inspire us to rise from the ashes as one people of one world. For 20 years the world has seen no armed conflict. Nations have put their petty differences aside. United, we rebuilt our families, our cities and our lives. The fusion of human and alien technology not only enabled us to defy gravity and travel at unimaginable speeds. It also made our planet finally safe again."

Not so fast there, cowboy. There would be no need for a sequel to the 1996 hit film Independence Day if the big bad aliens weren't coming back. Unfortunately, the aliens made the same mistake that Dean Devlin and Roland Emerich made with the film's sequel. They both waited too long.

First Impressions: a poor man’s Marley and Me. Final Impressions: a poor man’s Marley and Me. So from beginning to end my impression of the film did not change, but that doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing. In fact, that is exactly the case for Who Gets the Dog, a heartwarming tale about a poor dog caught in the middle of a divorce of a couple that see him as their child rather than property. Ryan Kwanten and Alicia Silverstone headline the cast of this story but without question the real star is Wesley, our beloved pooch. A wholesome experience can serve as a date movie or film for the whole clan.

Olive Greene and Clay Lonnergan are polar opposites; she is neat, organized with an established career while Clay is spontaneous, fun loving, and waiting for the opportunity to be called up from his minor league hockey team to the majors. Their marriage was an unlikely one to start with and takes no one by surprise when they decide split. For the most part, they handled everything amicably, dividing their shared property fairly and to both their satisfaction. That is until they realize that they both want custody of Wesley, their beloved Labrador; that’s when the gloves come off.

Yet another indie horror flick has come through the Upcoming Discs hub. Although, I wouldn’t necessarily categorize The Midnight Swim into the horror genre: it’s more of a dramatic mystery. That is not to say that the film did not have any unnerving moments, but the priority of the storytelling was to study the three main characters. In an effort to capture three very different personalities while simultaneously providing a lingering suspense, The Midnight Swim created a tension that resolved to my satisfaction. Ultimately, the film favored its character study more than it did its mystery, which hurt my enjoyment as a result.

Presented as a documentary-style “family archiving” activity, the film follows three sisters as they journey back to their childhood home after their mom has died in a diving accident. Annie (Jennifer Lafleur), the oldest, is portrayed as the most levelheaded sister, with hints of estrangement from her mother. Isa (Aleksa Palladino), the middle child, provides the film with an emotional free spirit and the most positivity through their trip. Finally, June (Lindsay Burdge), the “family archivist,” operates the camera and is the youngest and shyest of the three. As June films this vacation, the daughters begin to discover the mysteries of the lake that took their mother’s life.

Frank Sinatra is a man of many talents, although I had never really paid much attention to his acting, as I had never actually seen him outside a musical. Anchors Aweigh and On the Town are among my favorite musicals. That being said, I have never watched a film where I have been fully attentive to Sinatra’s talents as an actor. While Suddenly has other big names like James Gleason and Sterling Hayden, I was surprised that the entire film had an incredibly rocky start without Sinatra’s presence in the first twenty minutes.

In the small town of Suddenly, the sheriff (Hayden) is contacted by the secret service, alerting him that the President of the United States will be making a brief stop in town, as a way to bypass the crowds of a larger city. The President is arriving by train, so the Sheriff is instructed to clear all the shop owners and home owners within the proximity of the train station. One home owner (Gleason) used to be a high-ranking secret service agent, so he is permitted to stay with his daughter and grandson. Eventually, a group of gangsters posing as FBI agents (led by Sinatra), show up to use the house’s location to assassinate the president.

Everyone is afraid of the dark…and that’s what she feeds on.”

Despite rumors to the contrary, I am a full-grown adult. That means I can’t in good conscience admit to being afraid of the dark. The most I’ll concede is a sense of uneasiness if I’m in a dark space because I might bump into something. And if I hear a strange noise in the middle of the night, my mind might start creating sinister shapes out of shadows. (Hold on…am I afraid of the dark?!) Either way, that primal and unshakable fear of what could be hiding just out of sight is what powers Lights Out, one of the leaner, nimbler, and flat-out most enjoyable low-budget horror flicks in recent years.