When most people hear the phrase ‘Spaghetti Western’ their minds automatically gravitate towards legendary Italian director Sergio Leone. It makes sense. In the mid-1960’s Leone changed the Western landscape with his trilogy of films starring a young Clint Eastwood – “A Fistful of Dollars”, “For A Few Dollars More”, and of course “The Good, the Bad and the Ugly”. In 1968 he would release his seminal work – the pioneering masterpiece “Once Upon a Time in the West”. Not only did Leone change the game, but he drew more eyes towards what would become known as the Spaghetti Western.

But Leone wasn’t the only Italian filmmaker who helped define the broad, stylish and violent sub-genre. Sergio Corbucci had already made several comedies and sword-and-sandal adventures before dipping his toes into Westerns. His first two ventures had a more traditional John Ford flavor. But then in 1966 along came “Django”, a Spaghetti Western through-and-through and the first of many Corbucci would make over the next several years.

“Django” checks most of the Spaghetti Western boxes with Corbucci adding a few extra marks of his own. The violence is a notch above even Leone’s movies. The line between good and evil is as muddy as the street in the film’s one-horse town. The lead character is aggressively antihero. Corbucci takes all of these elements plus some and weaves them throughout his gritty and often blood-soaked story.

The movie follows a drifter named Django (played by Franco Nero) who roams the dry dusty borderland like a wandering spirit, draped in a fading Union army uniform and dragging a dusty wooden coffin behind him. The contents of his cargo is a mystery – is it full of gold, maybe guns, or is it the corpse of someone dear to him? Where is he coming from? Where is he going?

Django is the kind of character that the genre’s filmmakers would return to again and again – an unknown stranger with a fast draw who moseys into the mud-caked town with surreptitious intentions. Storywise Corbucci’s film falls in line with Akira Kurosawa’s “Yojimbo” and Leone’s “A Fistful of Dollars” but with its own notable twists. There’s a kind of pessimism that found its way into most of Corbucci’s spaghetti westerns including this one. There’s also the violence which at the time many felt was excessive. But it fits with the bleakness that Corbucci’s run of spaghettis would become known for.

There is also a colorful batch of characters who fill out Corbucci’s ugly world. There’s a prostitute named Maria (Loredana Nusciak) who Django uses to introduce himself into story. There’s the town’s slimy saloon-owner/pimp, Nathaniel (Ángel Álvarez). And of course there are the two battling bad guys, the racist ex-Confederate Major Jackson (Eduardo Fajardo) and Mexican General Hugo Rodriquez (José Bódalo).

Django puts himself right in the middle of Jackson and his henchman and Rodriguez and his bandits. His intentions are veiled but his presence is quickly noticed by the two sides. Again, it’s a familiar setup especially for fans of the aforementioned Kurosawa and Leone films. But Corbucci has enough of his own grit and verve to make his film stand out.

Many would later consider “Django” to be the first in what has been called Corbucci’s “Mud and Blood” trilogy. In terms of a direct sequel, there were over thirty unofficial movies that tried to copy and capitalize on the success of “Django”. But none included Corbucci or Nero. The only official sequel is 1987’s “Django Strikes Again”. Of course the influence of Corbucci’s original is still being felt (see Quentin Tarantino’s “Django Unchained”).

Some of the movie’s dialogue can be a little goofy and this particular English language dub is jarringly bad in spots. But if you’ve watched any number of spaghetti westerns you kinda expect that and it’s pretty easy to overlook. That’s mainly because Corbucci’s style and genre-rich direction gives the movie a kick that you don’t find in most studio Westerns. “Django” could be too much for traditionalists, but that’s exactly what will makes it so beloved by others.

VERDICT – 4 STARS

(CLICK HERE to read my full review in the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette)

The path to the big screen hasn’t been an easy one for “Dear Evan Hansen”, a film adaptation of the 2015 stage show by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul. The first trailer for this coming-of-age movie musical dropped back in May, and it only took a viral tweet or two for the film to become a social media punching bag. Much of the criticism centered around the choice to have Ben Platt reprise his Tony-winning role as the titular teen.

Let’s be honest, social media outrage isn’t the most reliable gauge. But in this case, Platt as a 17-year-old is a hard sell and slapping on pasty makeup and a plump crop of curly hair doesn’t help. But the whole age thing isn’t what makes “Dear Evan Hansen” a woefully misguided misfire. Its problems run a lot deeper.

The story kicks off with Platt’s Evan set to begin his senior year of high school. To help with his crippling anxiety, Evan’s therapist recommends that he start each day by writing a motivational letter to himself. “Dear Evan Hansen,” the letters begin. “Today’s going to be an amazing day and here’s why.”

The movie’s portrayal of mental health is hazy at best. Look no further than Evan himself who early on isn’t just socially awkward but almost nonfunctional. His inability to muster a single sentence to anyone other than his jerk of a “family friend” Jared (Nik Dodani ) hints at severe social anxiety. His several prescriptions point to depression. We even see evidence of possible autism. And then there is his childlike body language that comes across as paralyzing insecurity mixed with Platt’s exaggerated attempts to look younger.

The queasier stuff comes after his letter to himself is swiped by a bully and fellow outcast named Connor (Colton Ryan). A few days later Evan is summoned to the principal’s office where Connor’s parents, (Amy Adams and Danny Pino), inform him that their troubled son had committed suicide and they found Evan’s letter with him. They mistakingly take the letter as a sign that Connor actually had a close friend.

Evan tries to correct the grieving couple’s misunderstanding at first. But so hungry for human connection and with a particularly icky crush on Connor’s sister Zoe (a terrific Kaitlyn Dever), Evan turns the misunderstanding into a full-blown lie. Soon it takes on a life of its own as word of his fictional friendship gains him sympathy from his classmates. And after his speech/song at a school memorial service goes viral, Evan becomes a social media sensation.

The more devilish part of Evan’s ruse is in his scenes with the Murphy’s. At first he doesn’t have the heart to tell them the truth about their son. But he relishes their attention, the kind he doesn’t get at home from his hard-working and rarely present single mother (Julianne Moore). So he ingratiates himself with the family through bigger and more elaborate lies. Even worse is Evan’s manipulation of Zoe which makes him look like a creep despite the film’s efforts to paint him otherwise.

Sprinkled in among all the weird and unsavory drama is a mixed bag of pop ballads from Pasek and Paul (the duo behind “La La Land” and ”The Greatest Showman”). None come close to being great, but among the better songs is the peppy opener “Waving Through a Window”, the mournful “Requiem”, and the crowd-pleasing “You Will Be Found”. But most of everything else is both dull and forgettable with a couple of songs even crossing the bounds of good taste.

You don’t have to look hard to see what ”Dear Evan Hansen” wants to be. You also don’t have to look hard to see the many ways it misses its mark. Some of its choices are baffling, such as the film’s willingness to use suicide as a plot device to move Evan’s story forward. Also the questionable ways it attempts to justify Evan’s deceit. And who thought stretching the runtime to 137 minutes was a good idea?

It all might work better if it was actually leading to something meatier. Instead the movie concludes with a toothless reckoning that ends up far tidier than it should. It only adds to the film’s nagging artificiality and makes the already shaky moral center even harder to digest. That’s especially frustrating considering the heavy topics it’s trying to deal with. The intentions are good and everyone’s heart is in the right place. But one too many missteps sink the film before it even gets started good. “Dear Evan Hansen” is out now in theaters.

VERDICT – 2 STARS

(Click here to read my full review from Friday’s Arkansas Democrat-Gazette)

South African filmmaker Neill Blomkamp made quite the memorable splash with his 2009 debut film “District 9”. The heady and perceptive sci-fi thriller set itself in an alternate 1982 and explored themes of xenophobia, class and income inequality. In addition to being a box office success, “District 9” was well-received by critics and it went on to earn four Academy Award nominations. His next two films weren’t quite as engaging, but both had big ideas to explore.

Now Blomkamp is back with “Demonic”, his first feature film in six years and one that sees him dipping his toes into a new genre. This low-budget and self-financed horror project was written in two months and shot over 24 days in the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic. You have to appreciate the filmmaker’s ambition in crafting his own unique vision and bringing it to life on screen.

Unfortunately “Demonic” ends up being a dry and toothless horror experience; one that’s never as captivating as it could be or as chilling as it needs to be. The mostly scare-free story introduces plenty of fun and crazy ideas, but it never fully embraces the sheer nuttiness that it teases. So we end up with a movie that can’t quite muster the frights and that isn’t willing to let loose and go full gonzo.

The story centers around Carly (Carly Pope), a woman haunted by nightmares of her incarcerated mother Angela (Nathalie Boltt) who she hasn’t spoken to in nearly two decades. Out of the blue, Carly is contacted by her former best friend Martin (Chris William Martin) who wants to meet up. Martin is a bit of a crackpot; the kind of guy who pushes all kinds of nutty conspiracies. He reveals to Carly that her estranged mother is in a coma and is part of an experimental study ran by a medical company called Therapol. Carly visits the company where an ambiguous “physician” named Michael (Micheal J. Rogers) and the head researcher Daniel (Terry Chen) let her in on the cutting-edge work they’re doing.

It turns out Therapol has developed a technology that allows them to enter a comatose person’s subconscious and communicate with them. During their recent simulations, Angela has been calling for her daughter. So they convince Carly to let them send her into Angela’s mind where she quickly learns that it may not be her tortured mom doing the calling. It might be something demonic.

The film’s budget constraints are hard to miss both inside and outside of the simulation. It’s especially noticeable in the final act. Aside from some clever lighting, we’re ushered through the surprisingly unremarkable finale without a single eye-catching visual touches to speak of. It’s much the same with the fizzling story as Blomkamp tries to bring everything to an exciting crescendo but instead lands it with an uneventful thud.

So what we’re left with is a bewildering movie – one with demons and possessions but not a scare to be found. One with goofy stuff like militarized Catholic exorcism squads and an ancient weapon called “The Holy Lance” yet it can’t squeeze out a single laugh. It’s really a shame because “Demonic” is the kind of movie you want to root for – a small independent film made outside of the big studio machine. But there is only so much you can look past and “Demonic” never delivers on its early promises. “Demonic” is in select theaters now.

VERDICT – 1.5 STARS

In 2016’s “Don’t Breathe” Stephen Lang introduced us to Norman Nordstrom, a blind Gulf War veteran with uncompromising survival instincts but also a pitch-black violent side. Now five years later we get an unexpected sequel that thrusts the far-from-heroic Norman into the role of protagonist. That may (and should) have fans of the well-received first film scratching their heads. But don’t worry, the damaged ex-Navy Seal still has his gruesome mean streak.

Going in it’s tempting to ask why make a sequel? Do the filmmakers have something new up their sleeves? Are they expanding on the first film? Well, not really. In fact, a big chunk of “Don’t Breathe 2” is more or less a rinse-and-repeat of its predecessor. Yet there’s fun to be had with this simple yet fleet-footed sequel that plays like a blood-soaked 70’s grindhouse flick. If you look at as anything other than that you can expect to be disappointed.

Rodo Sayagues directs from a script he co-wrote with Fede Álvarez. Both worked together on the first film and bring the same grisly edge to this one. Part two also casts its audience into the same moral muck as the first film, luring us into rooting for an unsavory character and then questioning ourselves for doing so. But the freshness of “Don’t Breathe” 2016 doesn’t find its way into the follow-up, and rooting for Norman leaves you feeling icky. Then again, as Álvarez made clear to his Twitter followers, it’s supposed to.

Eight years after the events of the first film, Norman is still living in the rundown abandoned suburbs of Detroit. But this time he’s not alone. He has taken in and raised an 11-year-old girl named Phoenix (Madelyn Grace) who lost her family in a house fire eight years earlier. Now Norman poses as her father, teaching her survival drills and drowning her in his own paranoia and cynicism.

Just like in the first film, a group of hoodlums target his house, except this time it’s not for a large stash of hidden cash. Instead they come for Phoenix which pushes Norman right back into the savage killer mode he had worked hard to suppress. With his heightened senses and an assortment of gnarly blunt instruments at his disposal, Norman turns into the little girl’s protector leaving plenty of carnage in his wake.

As you make your way through the film’s first half you might swear you’re watching a segment from the 2016 movie. With the exception of some opening table-setting, Phoenix’s presence and one terrific long take inside Norman’s dark thug-infested house, everything in the opening 40 minutes or so seems cut from the same cloth as the original.

But then you get to the second half where things begin to slide off the rails (in a good way or a bad way, depending on how are you look at it). The story takes a wacky turn and throws in a macabre twist which is where the gonzo grindhouse vibe really kicks in. If you take it too seriously you’ll have a hard time digesting how bizarre things get. But if you take it lightly, like most of the crowd I saw it with did, you may find yourself having a pretty good time, wincing at some of the gorier moments and chuckling at the unexpected shots of subtle black comedy.

Even with fun to be had, “Don’t Breathe 2” doesn’t really leave much of an impression. Minus some fairly entertaining final act shenanigans, the movie basically rides the formula that made the first film an unexpected surprise. The little girl does add a new wrinkle, but she’s not quite enough to make us fully buy into Norman’s transformation. But now I’m breaking my own rule and putting too much thought into it. Stick to viewing “DB2” as a schlocky B-movie. That’s the way to go. “Don’t Breathe 2” is now showing in theaters

VERDICT – 2.5 STARS

It’s great seeing Eric Bana not just getting a leading role, but getting a really meaty one in a movie that lets him show why he’s such an underrated actor. “The Dry”, an Australian thriller from director Robert Connolly, marks Bana’s first feature film appearance since 2017. Written by Connolly and Harry Cripps, it’s an adaptation of Jane Harper’s 2016 crime novel of the same name about a man unexpectedly thrust into the middle of a brutal crime case and forced to reckon with a buried mystery from his past.

Connolly begins by locking us into his setting – the once thriving farm town of Kiewarra now decimated by a crippling drought (we learn it hasn’t rained in 324 days). What’s left of the economically depressed community now lives among dried-up riverbeds, sun-scorched fields, and the ever-present threat of bushfires. DP Stefan Duscio opens the film by panning over the dry barren landscape, his camera slowly moving across the cracked earth and endless acres of dusty parched wheat before honing in on a remote farmhouse. As the haunting cries of a baby echoes in the background, Duscio takes us inside where we make a gruesome discovery.

Bana plays Aaron Falk, a federal agent living in Melbourne who returns to his hometown of Kiewarra for the first time in over twenty years. He’s there to attend the funeral of a childhood friend named Luke (played in flashbacks by Martin Dingle-Wall). The story goes Luke murdered his wife and young son but left his infant child alive. He then went out near a dried-up pond and shot himself. No one in town questions it save for Luke’s grieving parents (Bruce Spence and Julia Blake). After the funeral they plead with Aaron to look into the case and see what he can find. He reluctantly agrees.

Aaron begins working with jittery and inexperienced local police sergeant Greg Raco (Keir O’Donnell) who is happy to have some help with the case. Aaron also reconnects with an old friend Gretchen (Genevieve O’Reilly). But not everyone in Kiewarra is happy to have him back. Not only do they resent him digging around in what they believe is a cut-and-dry double murder-suicide, but Aaron’s presence rekindles old suspicions that he was responsible for the death of a classmate named Ellie (BeBe Bettencourt) twenty years earlier.

This two-pronged story actually flows together nicely thanks to Connolly’s moody slow-burn approach which gives plenty of time to the characters and to sorting out the dual mysteries. On one hand the struggling townsfolk are still reeling from the present day tragedy. On the other you have the hard feelings and animosity rooted in the town’s troubled past and exacerbated by twenty years of lies, deception, and buried secrets. For some locals Aaron’s return causes those old wounds to fester. Meanwhile Aaron has to finally deal with the circumstances that led to him to leave Kiewarra in the first place.

Equally vital to the story are the flashbacks we get to Aaron’s teen years which flesh out his friendships with the bullish Luke, the tender Gretchen, and the troubled Ellie. Connolly expertly grafts these scenes into his main story, using them to feed us information and methodically fill in pieces to his puzzle. And the performances from the young cast call back to a happier much different Kiewarra. In fact even the cinematography stresses how things have changed. The flashbacks have an almost idyllic glow and highlight a time when the grass was green and muddy water reached the riverbanks. It’s a sharp contrast both physically and figuratively to the present day’s dry arid terrain.

“The Dry” isn’t a particularly original idea but it features enough fresh touches to give it its own unique identity. The whole thing is anchored by a terrific Eric Bana, weathered and stoic yet sensitive and empathetic. He plays his character at the just the right temperature, sinking into the stark backdrops and mixing well with the exceptional supporting players. He’s never been better. The story doesn’t shoot for the big showy climax and it ends a little abruptly. But for a movie that puts mood, atmosphere, and characters ahead of big twists and turns, it kinda makes sense. “The Dry” opens May 21st in theaters and on VOD.

VERDICT – 4 STARS