Crude comedy that helps to fill the hours until Girls Trip finally drops.
Some vague horror trappings scarcely disguise what is essentially a chamber drama. This story of a family trapped together under duress shares a source of tension with Krisha, Shults’ debut. Still, his stylistic approach is thankfully more measured this time out. Though the characters are only vaguely sketched (especially when compared to those in the similar Z for Zachariah), the film’s unremittingly bleak worldview helps to fill in most of the gaps.
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
Solid whodunit. Curtiz earns his keep as the Warner’s go-to guy, paradoxically keeping things simultaneously witty and dark. The title’s a bit of a misnomer, given that Claude Rains is among the ensemble, but as in most noirs the solution to the crime is of less import than the people that you meet along the way.
A bad omen sets a seaside girl on edge in this evocative, unshakeable short. It plays like Sjöström’s The Wind compressed into 22 minutes, although our anxiety stems from Epstein’s deeply affective camerawork instead of from Gish’s ever-increasing panic. The film uses shock cuts and images of the uneasy ocean in a manner that is liable to inspire literal sea sickness. The ever-churning rumble of the sea (not even a ballad can mute it) ensures that it won’t be forgotten.
Fundamentally dumb, though it at least gives Colman’s obnoxious scenery chewing context. Cukor’s an odd fit for this material. He has a tendency to go for inappropriate laughs and tries to class up what’s clearly a tawdry, pulpy tale. You might as well just watch Theater of Blood.