SXSW 2019 Capsule Reviews

Over the last week we saw dozens of films at the South by South West Film Festival in Austin, Texas. There were highs and lows, but each one an experience onto itself. Over the next couple days we’ll be updating this article with capsule reviews and links to full reviews of films from the festival. Check back regularly to see whats new!

This SXSW coverage was done as a joint effort with Cinema As We Know It.


Booksmart

“Easily the strongest feature to come out SXSW is Olivia Wilde’s comedic directorial debut Booksmart. Kaitlyn Dever (Beautiful Boy, Short Term 12) and Beanie Feldstein (Lady Bird) star as Amy and Molly, two brilliant high schoolers on the cusp of graduation, dutifully prepared to chase their grand dreams of leadership and social change in college. All their focus and energy on school has earned them admissions to Ivy League Schools, but it isn’t until the eleventh hour they realize there may have been more to their teenage years than a grade point average. In a last ditch effort to redeem themselves, they plan to attend a wild high school party on their last night before donning their caps and gowns.

Booksmart operates as a coming of age story, which seems to be a running theme the past couple years with young directors on the rise. While on the heels of the excellence of Lady Bird and Eighth Grade, Booksmart’s wholehearted brilliance stands up there with the rest of them. Olivia Wilde’s fresh directorial influence comes with a willingness to break conventional rules and take risks that others more entrenched such a may not. Her style is clearly full of enthusiasm and love for the craft, and her perspective as an actor works as a catalyst for some inspired performances. The entire film is an embarrassment of riches with endless re-watch value. It will without doubt secure a place in audiences’ hearts as an instant classic. Much like Molly and Amy, Booksmart has earned its A+.”

-Megan Bernovich

Full Review Here


Adopt a Highway

“When you saw Marshall-Green as a robot cyborg kicking ass last year, I bet you didn’t think he had directing chops. And good ones at that. With the right balance of heart and empathy, he strikes a winning formula for a story about redemption in the face of extraneous circumstances. Adopt a Highway shows that despite all the things that can go wrong in our life and how dire it can get, with a little hope, humanity, and compassion, we can all get a second chance at life.”

-Greg Arietta

Full Review Here


The Peanut Butter Falcon

“Zak’s down syndrome is often brought up as a rationale to restrict him, but what PBF rightfully asserts is that it shouldn’t matter. He is not seen in the same light as others because of what others project onto him, and not what Zak knows true about himself. Elenor’s character is perhaps representative of the audience and the realization that comes from the film’s message. To see someone with a disability is to automatically assume inability, but what comes to fruition is that their hopes and dreams shouldn’t be shelved because of labels.”

-Greg Arietta

Full Review Here


Pet Sematary

“In examining what has been gained from this updated retelling, there is no avoiding the sacrifices as well. One major infraction is its explanation of the narrative world. Pieces of essential exposition have been cut, leaving holes that would confuse anyone not well familiarized with the 1889 film or original novel. It’s far too easy to miss the connection that the pet cemetery exists because of the semi-trucks, which is critical information to grounding the environment. This film also slacks on justification for the indigenous burial ground, which in other versions is identified as MicMac. Pet Sematary and Stephen King have always had an issue with appropriating and mythicizing Native American lore with the Wendigo, but in this instance it is especially generalized and simplified for easy use. The film entirely drops Jud’s story of the last time a mourning parent resurrected their child, leading to chaos and fatalities in the town. Beyond all of that, the character of Pascow is relegated to the background rather than the driving conscience of the story. His personality has been replaced by some ominous lines, hardly given a second thought. By rushing through proper explanations and disregarding the main moral compass of the film, it leaves the events feeling baseless and shallow.”

-Megan Bernovich

Full Review Here


For Sama

“The film is narrated by al-Kateab as she looks back at her time in Syria and addresses her daughter, Sama. From the day the revolution breaks to the day she flees the country, al-Kateab traces the important moments in her life that happened in the middle of the war, and what that means for the future of the country.

Through violence, injury, and death, al-Kateab and Watts paint a bloody picture of the Syrian Civil War, but they ground it with the people who experience the conflict. To see a city full of life devolve into complete ruin is unworldly, yet al-Kateab speaks about her country with such tender affection that you come to understand why a family would stay—even with young children. Self-sacrifice and revolution are married as revolutionaries like al-Kateab and her husband put everything on the line and stay in Syria with the hope that their children will not have to live under Bashir al-Assad. But as the war rages on, the film transitions into the possibility that the children themselves will have to bring about change, a somber and sympathetic message for a country whose fate is uncertain.”

-Greg Arietta

Full Review Here


Tales from the Lodge

Part of SXSW’s Midnighters programming, the film features a misfit college friend group, now grown up, with unsettled interpersonal relationships. As they awkwardly reunite to spread the ashes of their deceased comrade, this purpose is complicated by the fact that they are perhaps being hunted by a homicidal maniac. Tales from the Lodge is a portmanteau film, featuring a main plotline interspersed with scary tall tales as told by the characters. Each anecdote is directed by the actor telling it, with significant variation in tone and quality. The inconsistency is furthered by a central narrative that substitutes “gotcha!” moments for actual twists. Much of the character’s humor and dialog doesn’t quite come across for a non-British audience. One positive aspect is a solid cast of unconventional figures for a horror film.  For its small scope and budget, it’s a passable late-night watch.

-Megan Bernovich


Body at Brighton Rock

The film begins with strong potential to be a survival thriller about a young woman learning self-reliance and courage in a hostile wilderness. The discovery of a dead body is an intriguing hook, but execution grows weaker from there. The plot is somewhat disorganized and fails to explain some of its central plot devices, while saving others for reveals that come too late. While the heroine does fight for her life, there is never a revelatory moment of triumph, but rather a flimsy open-ended conclusion. The film’s visuals have integrity, with striking vistas and vibrant colors that make the watch worthwhile. The lesson to be learned here is that you can either make a good natural survival film or supernatural film, but from what I saw, not both at once.

-Megan Bernovich


The Gift: The Journey of Johnny Cash

This documentary takes a look at the internal life of the legendary Johnny Cash, whose unmistakable voice and vast career redefined American folk, country, and gospel music. The film utilizes Cash’s autobiographic tape recordings to emphasize the power of hearing the “gift” of his voice, along with audio testimonies of fellow artists and his children. This oral storytelling is paired with an abundance of still and video footage spanning his entire life, providing a full and intimate arc.  The Gift also candidly examines fame changed his career, as well as his long struggle with drug addiction. The film uses his live performance at Folsom Prison as an extended metaphor for his folk hero status, but also for his tortured inner life. Overall, the film is a wonderful chance to get to know the man behind the music.

-Megan Bernovich


Building the American Dream

Chelsea Hernandez’s documentary is a culmination of years of work assembled into a powerful and personal experience. Building the American Dream follows undocumented individuals in Texas fighting for basic rights in their working conditions. It’s a sobering look at how urban development exploits laborers who have no protections physically or legally, and at how many have lost their lives trying to make a living. Hernandez’s camera is noninvasive but rather a symbol of solidarity and compassion, the action of filming a commitment to representing those ignored by corporations. It also casts a damning light on the people and structures in power that allow wage theft and unsafe conditions to continue. Ultimately, the film underscores the power of solidarity in the face of oppression, and the continued fight for human rights.

-Megan Bernovich


The Beach Bum

“You may be thinking at this point, “This sounds like a fun ass time.” And to that I would say, “Yah, if you’re into Harmony Korine.” Like I said, this film is one giant joke for an hour and half, and by the hour mark it really grades on you. Or at least me. I’m indifferent to Korine; I admire his audacity in some moments and other times times I can’t believe someone thought this was a good creative decision, but that’s kinda what makes his films his films. Those who have seen his prior work and enjoyed it will surely feel the same about The Beach Bum, but at the same time, I don’t think this will do anything to change the minds of those who already have baggage with Korine.”

-Greg Arietta

Full Review Here


Yes, God, Yes

“What Yes, God, Yes does so well is talk openly about female sexuality in the context of a Catholic upbringing. In this repressive environment, Alice is led to believe a number of misconceptions about sex and its peripheries that results in conflicting emotions. In her ‘sex ed’ classes, she is taught to believe that sex is only supposed to occur between a married man and woman, and that anything outside of that, including pleasuring oneself, is a sin. This leads Alice to repress herself again and again until she learns that she will not in fact go to hell for masturbating.

Alice’s conflict regarding her sexual urges reinforces society’s inadequacy in addressing such issues, and Maine tackles it on multiple fronts. One instance may find Alice ridiculed for sexual behaviors she never did while the alleged male recipient gains social currency. Another finds Alice holding back her desires for a camp counselor in fear that she may be viewed as unvirtuous. And as pitched in the synopsis, Alice learning about masturbation in a society that doesn’t even acknowledge it. The scenarios ask the audience to reconsider the ways in which society treats these issues about female sexuality, particularly under religious institutions.”

-Greg Arietta

Full Review Here


The Art of Self Defense

“The film centers on Casey (Jesse Eisenberg) who is your average, awkward, white collar accountant. One evening on his way back from the store, he is the victim of a brutal mugging that leaves him shaken and traumatized. Determined to muscle up and prevent a future attack, his search for self defense leads him to a karate dojo. There he quickly ascends rank and becomes a star pupil of Sensei (Alessandro Nivola), but what he soon learns is there is more to the dojo and his training than he first thought.

The film thrives at dry-pan, dark humor. The script is tack sharp when laughing at things that come off as bizarre, strange, or absurd, but presented as totally normal in the narrative. This sense of humor gives the film an edge to cut deep into the hyper-masculine practices in our own society that we have adopted and normalized. Ditching your plans to learn French because the nation is perceived as weak, or refusing to pet your dog as to not show weakness through compassion are just two of the several dozen sharp witted and exaggerated jokes that Stearns writes into the script to build his hyper-masculine world of the dojo. What are initially pitched as methods of improving your karate abilities are underscored with just the right amount of out-there, rational thinking that makes it funny to laugh at until, eventually, it isn’t anymore, and we realize, ‘Oh … this has taken a dark turn.’”

-Greg Arietta

Full Review Here


Villains

“Directed by Robert Olsen and Dan Berk, Villains caught audiences by total surprise in the best way possible. Simply put, it’s the story of a Bonnie and Clyde pair who are caught in the clutches of a far more dangerous couple with a house full of deadly secrets. Villains gracefully introduces its main characters, Mickey (Bill Skarsgård) and Jules (Maika Monroe), under the context of their motivations and desires within the first two shots of the film. It’s a proficient approach that wastes no time endearing our anti-heroes to the audience. Although they behave as outlaws, their youthful affection for each other keeps us rooting for them at every turn. After bungling a robbery, their dreams of escaping to the sunny and carefree beaches of Florida are put on hold when they encounter George (Jeffrey Donovan) and Gloria (Kyra Sedgewick) during a supply run break-in. Having stumbled upon a horrible secret, it becomes a question of whether or not they can escape with their lives at all as they are ensnared by the sinister couple.

It’s not unusual for many films like Villains making their way to the festival circuit to boast a stacked cast. It’s far rarer to find a film that utilizes their talent so very effectively. Maika Monroe has found a role with plenty of room to explore personality, allowing her to be as feisty as she is heartfelt with Jules’ liveliness complimented by a deeper emotional side. Her past tragedy is subtly woven into the plot without coming to define her character. It’s clear Monroe is amply capable of embodying multidimensional leads and in this role in particular she shines. Bill Skarsgård is her equal match, a chameleon of a man able to inhabit perfectly the sweet, slightly goofy personality of Mickey. He has something of a young Leo Dicaprio heartthrob look going on, with greased hair and bright eyes. Monroe and Skarsgård share an unexpectedly delightful chemistry, playing off each other constantly. Their relationship is the light soul of this dark comedy, both with a high aptitude for quick banter and physical humor. Their bumbling antics and drug habit somehow enhance the charm of these two lovers on the lam.”

-Megan Bernovich

Full Review Here


Good Boys 

“Bear with me for a few moments as I try to explain this stilted plot. The film tracks three kids Max, Thor, and Lucas (Jacob Tremblay, Brady Noon, and Keith L. Wiliams respectively) gallivanting around town trying to recover a drone they took from Max’s dad (Will Forte), a drone they stole so they can spy on teenagers and learn how to kiss for a middle school party. The drone crashes and sets them on a looney adventure based on anything the writers thought was remotely funny on paper. You probably read that synopsis and thought it was overtly trivial and you would be right. It’s such a bad premise that it barely, barely, functions as nothing more than a skeleton for the antics written in. 

By sheer circumstance, this coming-of-age tale is made even worse by the fact that I had just finished my second screening of Booksmart. Imagine seeing one of the greatest teen comedies of all time that is destined to become an all time classic, and then immediately seeing a raunchy, child-based comedy that has a near one to one thematic core, but executed to a much worse degree. Clearly, this isn’t a fault on Good Boys, but it makes all its shortcomings more blatantly obvious, especially when the film you are inspired by, Superbad, is evoked better by a fellow festival film. To put it simply, it got outplayed in every way.”

-Greg Arietta

Full Review Here


 

SXSW Review: ‘Pet Sematary’ is Resurrected, but Doesn’t Come Back Quite Right

This review was originally published on Cinema As We Know It as part of a  joint effort in South by South West coverage.


The film was screened for the SXSW 2019 Closing Night. This review contains spoilers for the 1989 and 2019 films.

Much of the popularization of American horror cinema over the past 50 years could never have happened without the imagination of one man sitting at a typewriter in Maine. Stephen King’s body of work has frightened and transfixed readers, inspiring dozens of film adaptations which have gone on to conjure up many more nightmares for audiences. In 1989, Mary Lambert directed Pet Sematary, King’s terrifying story of familial loss, and now, 30 years later, the novel is given new life by Dennis Widmyer and Kevin Kölsch.

The Pet Sematary narrative opens on an idyllic new beginning for the Creed family as they move to a small town. Dr. Louis Creed (Jason Clarke), his wife Rachel (Amy Seimetz), their two young children Ellie (Jeté Laurence) and Gage (Lucas and Hugo Lavoie), and the family cat Winston Churchill embrace their home and the surrounding woodland and befriend their senior neighbor Jud Crandall (John Lithgow). Their newfound tranquility is immediately interrupted by semi-trucks that roar down the adjacent road at top speeds and the discovery that their property hosts a graveyard for the town’s pets, kicking off a series of sinister portents. One day at work, Louis fails to save the life of a man named Victor Pascow after a horrible accident, and from then on, the mangled corpse rises again for only Louis to see, haunting him with messages warning about the woods beyond the pet cemetery. A truck strikes down Church, and when Louis cannot admit to his daughter her cat’s fate, Jud leads him past the pet cemetery, over a deadfall of trees, and into an ancient burial ground. Ignoring Pascow’s omens that the ground there has gone “sour,” Louis buries Church. Though the cat returns to the family home by morning, he is not the same affectionate feline they once knew. When an even more unimaginable tragedy then befalls the family, Louis crosses the deadfall again to bring his daughter back from the grave.

King’s story is a phenomenal basis for a horror film, and to a certain extent, it’s hard to go wrong. Widyer and Kölsch have a decent grasp on themes that create tangible fear. Like all good horror, the fear is derived from anxieties that are innately human. The evil lives in the characters’ hearts as guilt and grief, and their weaknesses and decisions are what ultimately doom them. Louis believes there is no afterlife, but springs at the opportunity to right his failures as a father. He plays fate and bends life and death to his will, unconscious of the consequences of his transgression. For his violation of fate, his deepest desire is achieved, but with a horrible catch: it isn’t his sweet little girl any more.

And Louis isn’t the only one haunted by the guilt of loss. Rachel is given more screen time than the 1989 version to investigate her own backstory. She blames herself for the death of her disfigured and ill sister Zelda when they were young. Rachel never outgrew the terror she felt having to care for her, admitting she wished Zelda would die, only for that desperate hope to later be fulfilled. Zelda’s reimagining is much scarier and in the forefront here than in the prior iteration, doubling down on the trauma of the incident. It feels true to the kind of fear a child would have regarding pain and sickness, a dark unknown that has literally twisted her sibling. And worse, Zelda is resentful and vitriolic, cursing Rachel to one day feel that same agony she does. The film employs discrete flashbacks, but what is most frightening is the sense of psychosis it creates. We hear and see Zelda’s presence in the Creed’s new home, blurring Rachel’s reality in a way that sympathizes the audience to her terror. She could be behind any door, causing the bumps and creaks in the old house. It’s the knowledge that she is to blame for this harrowing, inescapable haunting in her home.

By far the most significant change in the narrative is Widyer and Kölsch’s switch from Gage’s death to Ellie’s. While it was a substantial risk, the decision thematically pays off. In the premier’s post-film Q&A session, the pair of directors explained the bold choice was made to explore how an older and more cognitive child would respond to their death and return. Additionally, to recreate the adorable yet chilling performances of toddler Miko Hughes as Gage in 1987 would be far too difficult. The manner by which Louis shelters Ellie from the concept of mortality allows for a much more meaningful reckoning. In establishing her friendship with Jud, the impact of their final encounter is heightened as well. Laurence is a wonderfully creepy young Ellie, deteriorating from a sweet and curious child to a feral creature out for blood. The bold choice pays off to make the film more complicated and disturbing.

In examining what has been gained from this updated retelling, there is no avoiding the sacrifices as well. One major infraction is its explanation of the narrative world. Pieces of essential exposition have been cut, leaving holes that would confuse anyone not well familiarized with the 1889 film or original novel. It’s far too easy to miss the connection that the pet cemetery exists because of the semi-trucks, which is critical information to grounding the environment. This film also slacks on justification for the indigenous burial ground, which in other versions is identified as MicMac. Pet Sematary and Stephen King have always had an issue with appropriating and mythicizing Native American lore with the Wendigo, but in this instance it is especially generalized and simplified for easy use. The film entirely drops Jud’s story of the last time a mourning parent resurrected their child, leading to chaos and fatalities in the town. Beyond all of that, the character of Pascow is relegated to the background rather than the driving conscience of the story. His personality has been replaced by some ominous lines, hardly given a second thought. By rushing through proper explanations and disregarding the main moral compass of the film, it leaves the events feeling baseless and shallow.

Problems with writing don’t end there. The film searches for a proper tone for the entire first half, quite possibly a result of its diminished exposition. It can’t seem to decide wither or not it wants to play the horror straight or inject some poorly timed comedy to ease the tension. What happens is that when the film reaches Ellie’s death, the audience is blindsided by the sudden gravity of the situation and must reevaluate everything leading up to it. The modernization of the script clashes with King’s sensibilities at every turn, frequently undercutting dialog. Lines directly lifted from the book stand out like black eyes amidst the sloppiness, it seems the directors don’t really understand anything about the soil of a man’s heart, but it wouldn’t be Pet Sematary without it. It’s clear that in putting their own signature on the project, Widmyer and Kölsch lost the point.

With this hackneyed direction, the performances simply cannot carry the themes and impact of the story as successfully. Compared to Toni Collette’s extraordinary physicality in last year’s Hereditary, Amy Seimetz and Jason Clarke hardly register on camera as distraught parents. Compared to their child and cat costars, they’re going through the motions, cashing their checks, and barely delivering. The hysterics of the moment never quite arrived in full force, and these glaringly underwhelming reactions reduce some genuinely unsettling sequences. Even my beloved Church isn’t as compelling as before. Without his iconic and otherworldly eye shine and rumbling growl, he seems rather grumpy instead of an unholy abomination back from the dead.

In comparison to Mary Lambert’s film, what seems to be the stumbling point for this remake is the loss of the female gaze. Lambert’s perspective is more nuanced with the Creeds’ relationships, demonstrating a grasp on their emotional states that is lacking in this updated version. The moment this difference became apparent was when Widmyer and Kölsch got into describing their work during the SXSW Q&A, uttering the phrase “elevated horror.” It suddenly made sense that these two men had set out to revise the work of a woman for vanity’s sake, and in the process failed to tell a cohesive story.  The ongoing problem of trying to ‘elevate’ the genre seems to be the result of a superiority complex to the subversive themes and gore of slashers and earlier horror. The “elevation” usually just means more distribution and appeal to wider audiences, while rejecting how the genre grew outside of the mainstream. Alienating these roots is ridiculous and self-righteous, especially when it’s with a Stephen King property, for Christ’s sake. In a time that horror is at its most popular, the wrong move is to allow egotism to distance oneself from the source material. Ironically, the film boasts zero experimentation on form or technical achievement.  It’s played so safe in fact that it mimics some of Lambert’s shots to a T, down to a depressing cover of the Ramones played over the credits.  In truth, it hasn’t been so much elevated as zombified.

I will forever love the horror story of Pet Sematary. It’s one of the concise and deftly written pieces that King has produced in his extensive career, and it reverberates with such lingering dread and pain that even this rocky interpretation carries some value. I’m not sure why this current cultural obsession with the need to update good film has touched this corner of the genre, but Pet Sematary has little new or interesting to say about the themes of horror that haven’t been accomplished before. I hate point it out, but the irony of this remake bearing the tagline “sometimes dead is better” is just asking for it.

2.5/5 STARS