Entertainment One

The television landscape has been flooded with shows about the supernatural. Vampires have been particularly hot topics in recent years, but werewolves are starting to get their own sub-genre going. MTV's Teen Wolf manages to pull the theme off quite well. It's no surprise that pretty much every network out there wants to throw their own hats into the supernatural ring. It's getting quite crowded, but the popularity appears to have no end. Of course, with such a crowded field you have to find a way to stand out from the rest.

Anyone who ever sat through an elementary school science class knows that about 70 percent of the Earth's surface is covered in water. We've all heard the spiel, but I don't imagine most of us spend much time contemplating how truly staggering that figure really is. Watermark seeks to convey the many different ways humans and the planet's water supply affect one another. The documentary is maddeningly scattered, but it also manages to capture and convey a small part of the world's awe-inspiring bigness.

“It is neither understandable nor excusable that a devout Christian such as himself did not do everything in his power to avoid being involved in such a criminal system.”

In this case, the “criminal system” refers to the unfathomable killing of millions of Jews (and other groups) by the German military during World War II. We all know hindsight is 20/20, but you figure perfect vision shouldn't be required for anyone to see what an atrocity the Holocaust was at the time, and put a stop to it. Amen. powerfully — and controversially— portrays why the solution wasn't quite so clear.

“People believe money is a tool. Money is the master; the better you serve it, the better it treats you.”

That mantra — spouted by a ruthless hedge fund manager in Capital — may not be as succinct or as elegant in its simplicity as “Greed is good,” but the message remains the same. Most people see money as a means to an end, but to the financial masters of the universe in this French financial thriller, money is the end.

On the surface, The Color of Lies resembles many other murder mysteries set in a close-knit community. The 1999 film, however, is a late-career effort from Claude Chabrol, the French New Wave director who first gained acclaim alongside contemporaries like Jean-Luc Godard and Francois Truffaut in the late 1950s. So it’s not surprising to learn The Color of Lies is really a subtle, stylish exploration of the various ways people deceive each other.

The line between romance and stalking is much blurrier at the movies. Behavior that routinely leads to restraining orders or arrests in real life tends to elicit “awws” from moviegoers and earns the romantic hero a kiss in the end. The Right Kind of Wrong is one of the more egregious examples I can remember, which is a shame because the Canadian romantic comedy has a likable lead and dares to give its characters multiple dimensions.

The majority of murders committed on television are presented from the perspective of the people trying to solve them. It's a smart, gratifying strategy because it allows us viewers to play detective from the safety of our couches one hour at a time. Far fewer shows are interested in doing the more difficult/less glamorous work of dramatizing the way a death can shatter a family, along with an entire community. Broadchurch is one of the most outstanding cop dramas I've seen in a long time because it's willing to do that difficult work while also delivering the goods as a satisfying whodunnit.

“…I’m packing an ounce of killer shrooms, and there be monsters in need of pummelin’.”

When I first think of how to explain Knights of Badassdom, what comes to mind is that it’s Evil Dead 2 meets LARPing.  The only experience I’ve had with LARPing came in the form of watching Role Models and having to review the documentary Skull World.  What director Joe Lynch (Wrong Turn 2 and actor in Holliston) has done is create a world that invites both fans of role-playing and horror and thrusts them together to create a blood-and-gore-soaked romp filled with laughs

“If something was to come your way, I mean something so irresistible that you just had to have it, do you think you could sacrifice everything for it and not regret it?”

When it comes to down-on-their-luck men in movies, that “something” could be any number of things. Oh, who am I kidding? It's pretty much always a woman or a large sum of money. In Swerve — a twisty Australian thriller that goes down a number of familiar roads — our hero is tempted by both.

There’s a pretty good, southern gothic tale buried somewhere in Wicked Blood. Unfortunately, writer/director Mark Young isn’t quite able to extract it. Instead, we get a somewhat overqualified cast acting out Young’s down-and-dirty story of meth, chess and bikers that is exactly as messy, baffling and oddly intriguing as that description makes it sound. The film opens with a literal bang: we see the explosion of a shabby trailer. We don’t know who is inside, but we see a young girl stoically watching the flames from the outside.