LIGHTS OUT: The Abyss Gazes Also Into You

Director: David F. Sandberg
Writer: Eric Heisserer
Cast: Teresa Palmer, Gabriel Bateman, Maria Bello, Alexander DiPersia, Alicia Vela-Bailey
Runtime: 81 mins.
2016

Horror is trendy. Like Hollywood blockbusters, the horror genre goes through phases of acute innovation, aggressive imitation, and creative devastation. Halloween cemented the formula for the golden age of the slasher film. Saw trailblazed the torture porn genre of the 00's. Now horror in the 10's seems to be congealing around the brainy indie horror prospects offered by Jennifer Kent's 2014 film The Babadook. These films are low budget but high concept, often with a heavy thematic underpinning that has to do with Serious Issues.

As yet, Lights Out might be the most unabashed benefactor of the model set down by The Babadook. Both are stories about children struggling with the specter of their mothers' chronic depression, as made manifest by a horrible shadow creature infiltrating their home. Despite the clear similarities, the experience of watching Lights Out feels visually and structurally different enough to avoid being branded an out and out copycat. Unfortunately, where the films do overlap, Lights Out is worse in every way.

The protagonist of the film is pretty girl Rebecca (Teresa Palmer). We are introduced to her in a cutesy dialogue exchange with her sort-of boyfriend, pretty boy Bret (Alexander DiPersia). From there, these two characters get embroiled in the plight of Rebecca's little brother, Martin (Gabriel Bateman), who has been dealing with a mother who speaks to the darkness as if someone is speaking back. But Rebecca has discovered that someone really is there: a predatory silhouette named Diana (Alicia Vela-Bailey). She is a visible, physical threat in the darkness, but disappears entirely when exposed to any light source. Rebecca soon learns that her family will never be safe from Diana unless they confront the problem head on. These are the basic building blocks for our drama.

THE NICE GUYS: Black Is the New Black

Director: Shane Black
Writers: Shane Black, Anthony Bagarozzi
Cast: Russell Crowe, Ryan Gosling, Angourie Rice, Matt Bomer, Margaret Qualley
Runtime: 116 mins.
2016

The worst thing I can say about The Nice Guys is that it's no Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, writer/director Shane Black's other neo-noir comedy. That film, one of my favorite meta-narrative movies, may upstage Black's latest directorial effort, but by any other reasonable metric The Nice Guys is a rousing success.

Beginning with a hauntingly beautiful scene of a child discovering a dead porn star in the wreckage of a mangled car, The Nice Guys firmly establishes itself in the seventies. Our heroes are Jackson Healy (Russell Crowe), a bruiser for hire who gets embroiled in detective work despite his better judgment, and Holland March (Ryan Gosling), an inept P.I. who mostly coasts by on alcohol and exploiting the elderly. The other major player is Holly March (Angourie Rice), Holland's hypercompetent daughter, only the most recent in the storied line of child actors in Shane Black action movies who manage not to be annoying at all, but are in fact quite charming. I'm going to cut off the plot summary hardly before it's even started, as I cannot remember much about the twisty narrative details. Though in this case, that's no detriment; the joy of The Nice Guys has little to do with its plot intrigue, instead putting all the eggs in the bounteous basket of how delightful Crowe and Gosling are to watch bounce off each other for an hour and a half.

They both bring their A+ game. Between this and Noah, it's great to see Crowe in the midst of a career resurgence. He's cribbing from John Goodman here, playing Healy as paunchy but vivacious. Plus, Crowe is capable of selling the hell out of the movie's isolated moments of tragedy. Meanwhile, I have been a Gosling advocate for years (Drive, Only God Forgives, Crazy, Stupid, Love, Half Nelson, Lars and the Real Girl, etc. etc.), but he manages to shift into a new tier of talent in The Nice Guys, at least comedically. His physical comedy is far more committed than anything we could reasonably expect from a Hollywood A-lister. Black likes to beat the hell out of his characters, and Gosling sells every painful mishap.

All things considered, The Nice Guys is an exemplary if somewhat traditional noir. It may not transcend its own structure like the aforementioned Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, but The Nice Guys sees a cavalcade of tremendous talents at the top of their game, knocking it out of the park as if it were routine to do so.

3.5 / 5  BLOBS

HIGH-RISE: Jump Cuts

Director: Ben Wheatley
Writer: Amy Jump
Cast: Tom Hiddleston, Jeremy Irons, Sienna Miller, Luke Evans, Elisabeth Moss, James Purefoy
Runtime: 119 mins.
2016

I've never seen a movie edited like High-Rise. It's a 1970's period piece follows the occupants of a towering apartment complex. The narrative focuses in particular on neurophysiologist Laing (Tom Hiddleston). The socially stratified high-rise--richer up top, poorer at the bottom--provides all necessary amenities to its occupants, including food, drink, schooling, and entertainment. One would never need to leave the high-rise if one were so inclined, and that is exactly what happens. Its occupants are sequestered there by their own vague need to stick around, even after the parties turn sour, the rich begin siphoning resources from the poor, and the social system careens into violent anarchy.

More than anything High-Rise reminds me of the early Cronenberg film Shivers. The reality of this world is just off-kilter enough to be especially disturbing and surreal. Characters make choices that they only seem to be loosely in control of, and everybody tacitly refuses to acknowledge the weirdness cropping up around them.

What truly defines this film's unique tone, though, is the way the editing slips in and out of scenes like a moray eel. A great deal of High-Rise is told in montage, buoyed by Clint Mansell's brilliant score.* This formal choice emphasizes the passage of time and thrusts the viewer into a dreamlike state. We get snippets of clips that can more or less fit into our conception of the plot, but large chunks of these montages feel unmoored from reality. Deprived of context and set to music, even everyday moments, like forgetting something and turning around to retrieve it, seem uncanny and bizarre. Then there are clips of Laing dancing down a hallway with what appear to be five stewardesses dressed in red, and you have no idea what you are watching.

*No question, in the running for best soundtrack of 2016. Unsurprising coming from Mansell, whose work on Moon was the first film score I ever loved.

These alienating storytelling methods do become exhausting after a while, but they never lose their bite. High-Rise may be to on-the-nose to achieve the allegorical insight it's shooting for, but the result is a treat of crackling madness nonetheless. Watching High-Rise is like stepping into a Normal Rockwell painting that slowly morphs into a Dali. Director Ben Wheatley and writer/co-editor Amy Jump paste together a uniquely offputting experience from a great many familiar elements, which is one of the prime gifts of art: seeing old things in a new way.

3 / 5  BLOBS

JASON BOURNE: ReTreadstone

Director: Paul Greengrass
Writers: Paul Greengrass, Christopher Rouse
Cast: Matt Damon, Tommy Lee Jones, Alicia Vikander, Vincent Cassel, Julia Stiles, Riz Ahmed, Ato Essandoh
Runtime: 123 mins.
2016

You were the best of friends with this guy. Over the course of the half-decade-plus when you were in direct contact with him, he always proved a reliable companion, and your bond only grew stronger as you shared new experiences over the years. Eventually you had to part ways. You both knew that no matter how much you intended to keep in touch with each other, life was dragging both of you down separate paths--and that was for the best! You revisited his memory every so often, remembered the good times, but that's it. You've met people like him since, but without the exact balance of charisma and savvy that made him special. You've moved on.

But lo and behold, you'll be in the same area as each other this summer, so of course you plan a visit. You know it won't be like it was, but at the very least you expect to fall into some old nostalgic patterns that would not be sustainable long term, but are gratifying, pleasant, and perhaps even healthy in the moment. Although you have other things more prominent on your mind, you look forward to this meeting. Then you see him, and he's kind of... a shell of his former self. In the intervening years, life has run your old friend ragged. His signature personality quirks are muted to the point of banality, and all of his mediocre traits have spread and taken over. The worst thing that could have happened to this kind of friend has happened. He has become dull.

Such is the experience of watching Jason Bourne, most recent in Hollywood's current Sisyphean trend of perpetual reboots. Having earned the ill will of fans with their 2012 Jeremy Renner-helmed sequel The Bourne Legacy, Universal has desperately scrambled to get the band back together. In this case the band consists of Matt Damon as Jason Bourne, Paul Greengrass directing, John Powell* scoring, and Christopher Rouse editing (plus picking up a screenwriting credit this time), among others. One must be dubious of naked cash grab reboots, but that's a lot of talent. Besides, a movie like this can survive a less than great reboot so long as it delivers on the basic promises of the series in a somewhat satisfying way.

*As best I can tell, Powell is the only individual who contributes really good work to this film.