"Sinister 2" Review

Sinister 2 joins the lineup of 2015's bad horror films, and by now, I feel like I'm playing darts with mortar shells; it almost doesn't seem fair to review the regurgitated, seizure-inducing horror that typically makes it into 2,000-plus theaters. However, in a year where the bad horror offends me (either morally or as an assault to the tiniest modicum of my intelligence), I find that Sinister 2 is a bad film I have affection for, a clump of mismatched ideas that could have worked with more focus.

The sequel follows the deputy from the first movie (James Ransone) as he continues investigating a trail of murders committed by the demon Bughuul, who possesses children to ritualistically kill their family members. The deputy's search takes him to an abandoned Mississippi farmhouse, but unfortunately, Courtney (Shannyn Sossamon) and her two sons, Dylan and Zach (Robert and Dartanian Sloan) have begun squatting there, as Courtney's currently in a custody dispute with the boys' abusive father (Lea Coco) and needs a place to hide from the law.

Dylan is plagued by gruesome nightmares, but he meets a ghostly boy (Lucas Jade Zumann) who tells him that if he watches all the film reels of the murdered families, one every night, the nightmares will eventually stop. For a fan of horror (he and Zach are enthralled by Night of the Living Dead), Dylan apparently hasn't seen enough films to know that pale kids in church suits are creepy news, so he goes along with it, finding that the sinister presence isn't leaving, but rather growing stronger. One would think at this point, Dylan would "just say no" and head for the stairs, but the script has a torture quota and the demonic projector/phonograph combo is rented by the hour.

The original used the film reels not only to showcase Bughuul's evil and make some grainy gore, but perverted an idyllic look at family life to parallel Ellison's (Ethan Hawke) own perversion, letting his obsession with becoming a famous crime novelist destroy his relationship with his wife and kids. The sequel decides to make a carnival out of the affair, pushing the ante on how bloody and over-the-top the torture can be, resembling Saw more than it does a psychological thriller.

Scott Derrickson, the writer-director of the original, is replaced by Ciarán Foy, who's obviously trying to make a Derrickson film, but is obviously missing the mark. Derrickson's Sinister featured scenes shot with sparse light, composing the frame well enough to where one felt the engulfing darkness, but could also make sense of what's going on. Foy just makes these scenes incomprehensible; the only way to figure out what's happening is to wait for a creepy face and a violin squeal. 

I'm reminded of many movies when watching Sinister 2. The deputy investigating a supernatural series of murders feels like Deliver Us From Evil; the cavalcade of ghostly children propped against a cornfield brings to mind Children of the Corn; the two small-town boys coming of age due to dark events is Mud. Did I also mention that the deputy is the one positive male figure in Courtney's life, and is around her age, and may have the hots fo-okay, I'm done.

Sinister 2 has good ideas: I particularly enjoy how the film showcases Bughuul's evil from Dylan's perspective, and if the film took its time in revealing the evil, disguising it with wonder or a childlike mystery, the perversion would be well-earned. The film also tries, like in the original, to use the supernatural to parallel real-life issues, such as parental abuse, or coping with grief. However, when juxtaposed against a bumbling deputy, and spooky computer desktops, the effect dies quicker than expected. I like the cast, but I can't help but feel that each person thinks they're in a different movie, playing a different character. This all culminates in a mess, a mess full of variety, but a mess nonetheless. 

I worry the franchise is devolving into a Final Destination-style sideshow, but there are possibilities that could be explored. Let's get Derrickson back and make the stories personal; a loosely-connected anthology could accomplish this well. In the meantime, Sinister 2 is good for a marathon of bad horror sequels; pair this with Friday the 13th: Part 3 or Leprechaun 4: In Space.

Thank you all for reading; I'm the Man Without a Plan, signing off.

"The Man From U.N.C.L.E." Review

Since starting this blog almost two years ago, I've noticed a change in how I leave the theater after a movie. As a kid, I was George of the Jungle, swinging on imaginary vines into walls. As a preteen, I daydreamed of spinning webs and sucker-punching Doctor Octopus. However, as this current project of reviewing movies progressed, I found that my switch to that imagination, that willingness to wholly immerse myself into the story and characters, was being triggered less and less. 

When I leave a movie now, my thoughts go to cinematography, the effect of a certain monologue, how easily I could distinguish CGI from reality. And while I appreciate the ability to approach film with a more discerning eye, I can't help but long for the days where I'd spend the car ride home sending my brain on a cinematic odyssey. To quote Alan Moore's Watchmen, "I believe that in approaching our subject with the sensibilities of statisticians and dissectionists, we distance ourselves increasingly from the marvelous and spell-binding planet of imagination whose gravity drew us to our studies in the first place."

I bring this up, reader, because recently, the switch turned on. Monday night, I revved up my car and shot into the night, fueled by chases, gunfights, and espionage. I had just finished watching The Man From U.N.C.L.E. and at that moment, I was sure then, as I'm even more so now, that this was something special.

The film, set during the Cold War, follows CIA agent Napoleon Solo (Henry Cavill) and KGB operative Illya Kuryakin (Armie Hammer), rivals-turned-partners as they're enlisted by their governments to stop a remnant Nazi organization from launching nuclear warheads. Enlisting the help of Gaby Teller (Alicia Vikander), the daughter of one of the Nazis' captive scientists, the spies attempt a two prong plan: Illya and Gaby search for her father, while Napoleon infiltrates the organization, trying to earn the trust of their leader, the icy Victoria Vinciguerra (a villainous name if ever I've heard one), played by Elizabeth Debicki.

Director/writer Guy Ritchie is known for energy, for high-octane pictures that rarely take a break. Films such as Snatch and Sherlock Holmes suffered from an imbalance, of either too many characters, shallow plots, or excessive action. Here, Ritchie hits a pitch-perfect stride, keeping the film moving, with enough explosions, boat chases, fighting, and gadgetry to entertain, while putting in slower scenes, mainly between Illya and Gaby, to flesh out the characters and give the audience time to breathe.

What works best here is the execution. I feel like I'm a broken record with this, but especially in this year, which could be nicknamed the "Year of the Spy" due to the release of Kingsmen: The Secret Service, Spy, Mission: Impossible - Rogue Nation, Bridge of Spies, American Ultra, and Spectre, what makes a film stand out is how well the conventions of the genre are utilized or updated. The Man From U.N.C.L.E. cherry-picks the best from spy genre: the slick, 60's-inspired art direction from Dr. No and Thunderball, the over-the-top stunts from Mission: Impossible, and grit from the Bourne franchise and newer James Bond films like Casino Royale or Skyfall. The influences are apparent, but never does the film feel derivative; it's having a blast telling its story.

Cavill and Hammer give star-making performances here, making up for the faults of Man of Steel and The Lone Ranger. Cavill borrows from Sean Connery's Bond; his Solo exudes confidence (even if it's not internalized at the time) and the suavest of charm, holding a more delicate approach to problems. On the other end of the spectrum is Hammer's Kuryakin, temperamental . Hammer's size and presence is intimidating, but he offers some great physical comedy; his reactions make me crack up, especially when paired with Gaby. Speaking of Gaby, Alicia Vikander continues her reign of 2015; after a masterful supporting role in Ex-Machina, she shows off her spunk and comedic chops, the perfect foil to Kuryakin's brittle machismo.  

Ritchie comes unhinged with the camera, offering a variety of well-crafted shots, angles, and setups that make for both suspense and hilarity. From the car chase in Berlin to a speedboat scene at the villains' factory, the film offers fun, inventive action that had me in a grin from beginning to end.

The Man From U.N.C.L.E. doesn't have the most original story, and the climate of spy films stacks the odds against it, but the fact of the matter is that this is the most fun I've had watching a film all year. The acting is top-notch, the action thrilling, the comedy side-splitting. This made me feel like a little kid again, falling in love with movies and the worlds they create. If you're in the mood for seriously great action, this is it. "James Bond, eat your heart out."

Thank you all for reading; I'm the Man Without a Plan, signing off.