Creed II : Exhilarating, but dangerous.

Boxing was the sport I was introduced to the earliest in my life. it's probably the earliest memory I have of any sport. My father put gloves on me and my brother at a very early age, and to this day one of my favorite pastimes is sitting with him and my little brother, watching the fights.  Boxing is one of the last remaining bastions of some of the worst aspects of masculinity, but also it is representative of some of the best. I disagree with those who would merely reduce and dismiss it as a gross, bloodletting, savage event for the entertainment of the masses. but I also understand why they would feel that way. There is though, a science to boxing, there is an art. The training, the honing, sculpting of the body to turn it into an instrument capable of taking damage and inflicting it. An instrument designed to act when it needs to act,  to react when he/she needs it to react. Watching these two men sculpt themselves in order to eventually sculpt each other, interacting with each other in a dance with each other, becoming something wholly new in and of itself is truly art to me. As Bruce Lee once remarked it is a form of expression through the body, and its earliest stages, at its best the indelible Rocky franchises capture the best principles of the sport, of sport itself. Trail and error, baptism through fire, finding, testing, reaching, and then surpassing your limits. What it means to be these modern day gladiators, that put their bodies on the line for the sake of our entertainment. The original Rocky interrogated that place against the backdrop of a forlorn city and the people from within the city who have been forgotten, trying to make a name for themselves. From that point on though the iconic boxer and the franchise began the slow non linear path to losing its way. Sometimes this led to incredulously entertaining results (Rocky 4), sometimes to pure disaster (Rocky 5) and everywhere in-between.

Once it was announced that Ryan Coogler, Michael B. Jordan, and Sylvester Stallone would come together to tel the story of Apollo Creed's son Adonis, I was both intrigued and leery. The first Creed was both what I expected ( an uninteresting re-hash of tired boxing tropes) and some things I didn’t (some interesting exploration of some of those same boxing tropes). The second installment in the franchise without Coogler’s deft touch (Director Steven Caple Jr, takes the helm) turns into a two hour version of a music video. Mind you it’s one of the good ones, but much like a video it delivers its punches in shorthand. Much like Floyd Mayweather, there is very little power behind these cinematic punches, but they come fast and sharp. Mostly at this point the Creed franchise is a solid one, but a missed opportunity. A missed opportunity to discuss the current state of boxing, to subvert the toxic masculinity within the sport, to create an interesting character study of a boxer in the new era trying to navigate his way through the trauma of loss. Interestingly enough, one of those aforementioned punches engages in some of this, but it’s not our titular hero and his world weary trainer (himself formerly our titular hero) but rather his sworn enemy and his progeny Ivan and Viktor Drago.

The under written, but best storyline in this movie is not that of Adonis Creed which sets up (a lesson that Creed will never learn and yet overcomes anyway) but Ivan and Viktor Drago. Their father son dynamic, Drago’s forlorn hopes and dreams gnarled and entangled in a great ball of pent up and toxic anger and frustration that lives within his son who lives and breathes to avenge his fathers defeat, provided both of the most memorable moments to b found in this film. One takes place at a dinner hosted in honor of the rousing beat down Viktor hands Adonis in their initial match. When a surprise guest shows up it becomes all to clear what the source of the Dragos trauma and frustration is. It is also where (for the first time I’ve ever seen on screen) Dolph Lundgren flexes some serious acting muscles. The second takes place in the exhilarating finale. Both are welcome respites from the toxic form of masculinity that goes unchecked in this second offering. These are genuine challenges, displays of affection, and cathartic release of the hurt and pain that brought them this far, that if explored more effectively, rigorously, and consistently throughout this film could’ve made it an Oscar contender.

“Creed II’s lack of desire to interrogate the worst of the sport, cuts short its ability to effectively interrogate and challenge our hero adonis. I remember watching “Star Trek II Into Darkness”, and amongst other things being entirely disappointed that I was played. An intriguing plot line was introduced that suggested the movie was about Kirk learning to be a captain by learning to balance his tendency to fly by the seat of his pants, allowing his emotions and unchecked ego to get the best of him. Kirk spends the rest of the movie doing everything but and being rewarded..(Insert face palm here). I see the same problem in Adonis’s arc in this film. Adonis begins the film as much to toxic a man to ever be a good boxer, husband, friend, and if we we’re being honest in this movie - father. He is selfish, impulsive, and guilty of that all too common tendency of men to suppress their pain. When Adonis utter the words “Im Dangerous!” I though to myself “Yeah to yourself and everyone around you”. All of this plays out to disastrous physical results in his first fight with Viktor. Adonis is pulverized by his own refusal to confront his pain in ay meaningful way and if not for all the razzle and dazzle of this film, it would’ve crushed the movie too.

Creed 2 hits many of the right beats to make it an intoxicatingly cool, if not emotionally manipulative (rarely authentic) but spirited sequel. Sylvester Stallone is still the best actor in these movies, and I’d easily hand him another Oscar nod for his portrayal of Rocky in this film. Stallone takes some really interesting beats, and continues to surprise me with some of the inspired choices he makes on screen. The movie is extremely well paced, which ensures you won’t feel a moment of its over two hour runtime. The fight choreography is some of the best and most realistic Ive seen ever, but the fights themselves are some of the most over-the-top and ridiculous in the entirety of both franchises since Rocky III. Creed II fetishizes pain to the detriment of its other characters, (especially if they are WOMEN ) the story, and the authenticity of its fights. Adonis does not learn anything by confronting both his physical, and more importantly psychological pain, he merely heaps more on and finds his way out after a corny after school special pep talk. The punishment he takes in this film is beyond brutal, and would have real life ramifications that would end at the very least his career, and they are not interrogated in this film nearly enough, instead they are glorified. This coming from a person who has watched boxing for almost the entirety of my life. The movie is still a good time, and manages to leave you buzzing once the final bell rings, but it also left me with a queasy feeling about the poor messaging it might leave for future boxers, and ultimately unsatisfied with the way it sidelined some of its more interesting characters, and plot points (Russell Hornsby’s shady promoter, and subsequently what he does to or for the sport is also thoroughly under explored) like Tessa Thompson’s Bianca and the Drago’s in favor of a retread of a kind of heroism that needs to die.

IN THEATERS NOVEMBER 21. Life has become a balancing act for Adonis Creed. Between personal obligations and training for his next big fight, he is up against the challenge of his life. Facing an opponent with ties to his family's past only intensifies his impending battle in the ring.

HALLOWEEN IS A FUN RIDE BACK TO THE ROOTS OF WHAT MADE THE ORIGINAL SO GREAT.

Halloween is just one of those movies that originally and now in this latest iteration knew exactly what it wanted to be, and it’s one of the highest compliments I can pay it. I've recently been discussing with my friends this age where so many people want to do so many things and try to be so many things to so many different people and subsequently how that affects various arts. When you have people making tentpole movies, almost all year round (especially of this sort ) aiming marketing towards trying to be a little something to a great deal of various crowds it creates quite a few films where you can feel the hodgepdge of ideas running into and coagulating into a bloody mess. What I feel like I’m applauding when I'm applauding films like this year’s “Mandy” and Halloween is a kind of laser focus on the crowd that you know you want. On the audience most likely to appreciate your art on its face.   You may end up getting a larger base to come around and appreciate it too, as is the case with Halloween, or you may only reach that exact niche as was the case with Mandy , but either way you find success. 

Halloween has always been one of those movies that can please  multiple audiences.  It's both a cult movie and a movie with a clear mainstream audience.  But I would venture to say one extends from the other. Fully acknowledging that this isn't a new argument at all - I still think great art comes from a place that ultimately seeks to please oneself first and by extension of the self…Others. I think we've made the mistake of dichotomizing the issue of art for arts sake or for entertainment when the answer is both.  Artist like John Carpenter understood themselves firstly and then instinctively understood that others who may see the world in similar ways to them would probably like to share in the delight of seeing this vision come to life. But as expressed by Carpenter in interviews he had no way of knowing it would become as popular as this. And when this sentiment is genuine (as I believe it is in this case) it belies the fact that the artist was most likely not considering a massive audience and what they might like to see, but rather a small circle of friends and imagined like minded folk. As Long as you don't get caught up in the awe of your own imagination. You'll always want the mission to be to use what it is you have, your gift as a tool to connect with others .   But first you have to find your unique voice. That's the way to legacy.  The way to legend, the way to becoming a classic, to becoming something unforgettable. 

John Carpenter interviewed by Mark Kermode for Halloween's 21st Anniversary. 1999. Part 1 of 3.

Carpenter's films, but especially have always been simple, but effective. And I mean to say that there's a precision, and concise power to the kind of horror that galvanizes or acts as the engine behind Halloween and ultimately, Michael Myers. A forcefulness that is big enough, deep enough to create a space for the kind of commentary that you might get around something that has a lot more existential or philosophical questions surrounding it, like this years earlier horror entry Hereditary.  This latest entry - as conceived of by the duo of Danny Mcbride and David Gordon Green - Understands that, and it also understands the power in exploring the dynamic in the relationship between Michael and Laurie Strode. Much like my other beloved horror entry this year - Netflix’s The Haunting of Hill House - this Halloween explored the trauma of the kind of event bound to have a ripple effect on the life of someone like Laurie Strode. And that we see again also represented in hereditary, lingering memories of suffering, pain, and stress that finds itself seeping into the lives of our spouses and our offspring.  The focus is not quite as tight, It's not quite as broad or as in depth, but it is there. And when combined with the core understanding that the power of Michael Myers is not in who he is, or the sight of him, or what might or might not be behind the mask, but instead his anonymity. The idea of him as this almost spectral construct of sheer will and pure evil incarnate, that makes him so scary... That THAT is the driving force behind this series, then you have what makes this movie work so well. Once again it caters to both of its audiences, whereas previous installments like h2o cast too wide a net, and others like Rob Zombies Halloween were far too niche (and in truth lost sight of the actual core tenets for even its core audience) this Halloween delivers to both the crowd that will always be there for it, even when it’s bad, and that more fair weather audience.

This is a well done, sharply executed horror film with a strong central performance (as I think any horror film movie has to have) by Jamie Lee Curtis. Just from a physical aesthetic standpoint Curtis comes prepared. In so may ways Laurie hasn’t changed, her hair, her body in general resembles some semblance of itself. It is only her hair color, the glasses, the wear of years of hurt, a map of her trauma all along the lines of her face - that betray how much has changed. This stagnation, this staticness is represented not only by her mental state, but by the forlorn fortress that she's turned her home into. The decrepit nature of anything in or around it that doesn't have to do with home security. It's represented in her inability to seemingly function at even a dinner party. To allow herself the space to be happy for even just a moment and it's all Curtis - working in conjunction with what ultimately is a great script - that really provides us with the clues as to just how ripped apart, how beaten and weathered Laurie Strode has become, but in the same sentence how she's also turned that energy into a crystallized will of her own.  Laurie strode has become the perfect mirror image for Michael Myers in that she too has now steeled herself to become a force of nature, fashioned herself into a creature made up of anger and rage, who will not be stopped, who will not be beaten, who will not go down. And as such has set herself up for Mano y Mano battle of good and evil. 

Halloween also features some strong supporting performances from the likes of Judy Greer. And will Patton, but ultimately, this is Jamie Lee Curtis's movie and of course Michael Myers. It’s gruesome (apropos to the genre and franchise) its scary, and I found the tension built well over the running time of the movie, which really you do not feel at all. The pacing is extremely well done, and your kind of in there and out of there before you know it. Something akin to a great rollercoaster ride. Much like the Panos Cosmotos indie project “Mandy” I just really enjoyed myself in this film. I settled right in to it and was immediately reconnected with the characters, with the tone, with the town, (which is something that I sort of took issue with In the latest remake of “IT” where I felt like in the town of Derry, I didn't feel how these events had really settled in or affected the town),  but in Halloween I did. Haddonfield and the people who live there some 40 years later still feels like a town that has the residue of these grisly murders on its structural, and cultural conscious, it's on the kids lips, and it's in the police department, it's in the homes and sort of in the air, you just feel it, and I think the filmmakers did a great job of creating that. Ultimately I highly recommend Halloween, I think it's a great movie for the season, I think it's one of the better horror films to come out this year, and ultimately in some weird kind of way as horrifying and terrifying as it is, it's a feel good movie. I came out of there like “Yeah, I got to escape for a little bit”. And thats very valuable as something I think we could use more of right now.  

THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE: HEART, SCARES, AND THE TRAUMA OF NOT BEING HEARD.

The experience of watching Netflix’s latest – an adaptation of Shirley jackson’s legendary Gothic horror classic The haunting of hill house –  beyond being a wonderful horror series that anchors itself in emotional pull just as much as it does terror – is also one of a fantastic exploration into the terrifying nature and experience of not being heard.  One I have directly experienced, and one many of and especially especially those of us who live within the margins have experienced first hand.  That fear and that terror that took up residence in my being over that very lonely couple of weeks some time ago,  where literally nothing I said mattered,  where no one listened, and because no one was listening,  that maybe it didn’t matter,  or that maybe I didn’t matter.  The blackness it descends one into,  the trauma that extends from that particular kind of invisibility,  the loss of hope,  and of confidence.  The residual damage that follows from person after person either gas lighting you, condescending to you,  or infantilizing you. This was the power of Hill House to me.   Repeatedly we are shown characters doing one or two or all three of these things to another in order to pacify them,  or to deny a truth they themselves don’t want to face. We see the subsequent effects of it,  the reopening of old wounds,  emotional lockdowns,  or breakdowns,  and ultimately the eventual loss in some cases. And we are reminded of our experiences and it’s both enraging and terrifying.

Using ghost and ghouls as avatars The Haunting of Hill House paints a very clear picture of the weight of shame,  guilt,  and the secrets and lies that spring forth from them as protections from facing what we fear most,  what on some level we don’t think we’re prepared to see,  or from disrupting what we think we know.  It’s a constant and oft repeated theme in the show from one siblings refusal to acknowledge another’s preternatural or supernatural abilities,  to another’s denial of the inciting incident of the entire series.  It’s in a pivotal sequence where one sibling hears but doesn’t listen to a young girl who tries to explain to her a horrifying secret which she misses because she’s too busy trying to explain it away instead of really listening.  The holes these things leave,  the continued abuse it might allow,  the harm it causes to the Crain family –  who are just as decrepit, in disrepair, and disintegrating every bit as much as the house they once occupied –  makes for maybe this shows most frequently disturbing images which is saying a lot because there is a plethora of terrifying and disturbing images in this show.

The Haunting of Hill House is not one of those shows or films that can be described as not particularly scary,  but packing a wallop when it comes to it’s intensity,  and suspense.  No…This is an old fashioned ghost story, the kind that puts your head on a swivel in the dark,  the kind that asks you to take a small break and allow your eyes to imbibe something flowery and light after, the kind where you’re sitting by the camp fire and a chill begins to sink into your bones, despite the fact that you are sitting next to fire.  Your fear so laser focused that the heat from it now boils your nerves, and the storyteller now instinctively realizing that your focus is now singularly narrow (and thus properly prepared)  that they can literally make any form of misdirection,  or movement and cause you the audience to pop and instantaneously move from out of your seat.  It’s a fear rooted in identifying and relating to these expertly drawn characters.  Seeing so much of ourselves within them that we begin to see their journey as our own.  So that when they are scared, we are scared,  and when they jump,  we jump.  This in particular is not atypical to the genre –  especially if it’s a well done member of the genre – what is atpical though, is the level of execution.  Whether on TV or film, as is the case in almost any genre, but especially ( I believe) in horror, there’s always some character who is not as well drawn as the others someone who seems two dimensional,  who is difficult to understand,  whose motivations may be paper thin.  For example, in hereditary (one of my favourite films of this year) Gabriel Byrne’s character I never quite figured out (which admittedly could just mean it flew over my head)  I understood his preliminary motivations sure, and to some small extent what drive his insipid silence,  but beyond that he seemed to be much less deep, much more superficial than Toni Collete’s beleaguered Annie Graham, or Alex Wolff’s moody Peter Graham,   and that household was just three members deep.  Hill house has no such issues. Every single member of the Crain family is so well drawn out,  so well defined, so crystal clear in both their conscious and unconscious motivations. that it hands this show a depth and weight I don’t know that i’ve really ever seen in the genre – especially again in a show that is this jam packed with actual frights and scares.   I don’t claim to be a horror expert, and while I’ve watched a lot of horror films, I don’t think of myself as necessarily academic in the field.   So I can’t claim the kind of confidence to make this feeling to be in stone, but out of the number of horror films that I have laid my eyes upon, (Which is quite a number)  this is unlike any other.

Flanagan and the writers have really kind of set the bar for the genre, especially as it pertains to TV and long form television in particular.  Through these family members, and their stories – each told with a level of understanding into not only what motivates,  and drives them, but a gift or unique skill for storytelling even amongst actors by actors like Gugino, Hutton, Gish, and Siegel, – we explore trauma and memories and the way they shift and distort our perspective.  Twisting and gnarling it so. that we can’t even see even what is directly in front of our eyes.  It’s a show that finds heart in horror,  terror to make us lose heart, and horror to find heart again.  A masterpiece of television now on Netflix.

On October 12th, you're expected. The Haunting of Hill House is a modern reimagining of the iconic novel, about 5 siblings who grew up in the most famous haunted house in America.

APOSTLE: NETFLIX'S LATEST REALLY HOLDS THE DARK.

You ever just know a movie is for you?  You watch a few images flash before your eyes and all but know for a scientific fact you're gonna love this film or television show?  This was pretty much the case from the first trailer for Netflix's "Apostle".   I was sold that this movie was going to be one that would engrave itself into my psyche, and it didn't disappoint.  An unnerving, spellbinding, violent,  knot turning in your stomach kind of suspense horror thriller,  that doesn't let go once it gas you in its grip - the film is as unforgiving as it is visually arresting.  Our story begins with the troubled Richardson family and more specifically a brother Thomas (Dan Stevens)  sent off to rescue and bring back his kidnapped  sister from a cult holding her for ransom.  What ensues from there on is the tale of a man who will slowly become reinvigorated with the idea of connecting back with the one tie he has to this world,  and thusly back to the world and eventually his faith but only after confronting the darkness corroding the town from within.  Though the film comes off at first as an attack on faith and religion on the whole rather than fanaticism it is not.  There are very clear signs that this is in fact a film about faith, and maintaining it when surrounded by men and women who have either forgotten, or perverted it's central tenets.  But those are not central to the experience of Apostle as much as they are subtext.   What anyone going into this movie needs to know is that it taxes the hell out of the  senses - through imagery, gore and suspense.  Medieval torture devices,  camera angles,  and brutal depictions of torture and murder are deployed to maximum effect for mood and tone corroborating with the greater themes of the film.  And it can be exhausting though never gratuitous,  and plenty exhilarating while also grating the nerves.

 What tells me that I love this movie is not the fact that I ignored many of its possible flaws, but that I just didn't notice them at all, at least not in this first viewing.  One thing I don't want to lose as a movie viewer, and even as a critic, is that ability to want to enjoy a movie and not necessarily to approach the experience from a sort of clinical position where I am simply looking for what it isn't doing, or how well it adheres to film theory.  I want to first just enjoy it on the level of being a person that enjoys movies,  as a patron who just wants to be taken on a ride.  For me, that is exactly what I got from Gareth Evans dark grisly fable.  I was thrilled,  put on the edge of my seat,  treated to white knuckle tension, gifted characters that I could relate to on some level, but more importantly, characters driven by marvelously committed actors that I didn't have to like to want them to win, or to root for them or hate them.   By the end, when the final events started to unfold, I noticed my shoulders dropping,  the air leaving my chest, the tension held for what seemed like nearly the entirety of the film being relieved, and I noticed how invested I was in the action unfolding before me because of the way my legs shifted,  fidgeting about.  The way my heart dropped in certain parts of the movie where it seemed that the cruelty was unrelenting informed me, I was immersed,  told me I was being engrossed,  and enthralled.

In these dark times I'm not one of these people that wants to be treated to something that makes me feel better, that assures me of my safety, and reminds me of good, I think I naturally have that buffer within.  I like being reminded of just how bad it can get, just how unjust the world can be, how unflinching.   A movie like the apostle is a great reminder, because it keeps a person with my natural temperament  vigilant,  sharp.   I don't think I have to recommend it for everybody but I do recommend it for those that always leaned a bit towards the dark side of themselves, who enjoy the tension and release horror gives maybe even on some masochistic level,  if only but to keep the guard there and keep the dark at bay.

The promise of the divine is but an illusion. From Gareth Evans, writer and director of The Raid franchise, comes Apostle. A Netflix film starring Dan Stevens and Michael Sheen - premieres October 12.