Capone (2020)

A mentally diseased Al Capone (played by Tom Hardy) starts to relive his past in regret, as his diagnosed Neurosyphilis takes hold; all the while being spied on by the FBI on his Florida mansion estate.

Josh Trank’s Capone is a clear passion project, examining the final years of Al Capone’s life in the most visionary and creepy of ways; turning Capone into probably the first “gangster-horror” movie in recent memory. Capone treats Al Capone’s illness as an avalanche of impacting but violently disturbed ghosts, haunting his mansion and his mind as he rotted and decayed in his final moments; taking his family down with him. Al Capone is displayed here by Trank and Hardy, as the lynch pin of all his friends and family, and the reality sets in that when Al Capone crumbles, everybody else does too. Capone sells home the pain Al Capone’s illness put his family threw, and ultimately how his crimes; that got him his empire, was the end of it all from the beginning. The film doesn’t back away from the experience one has and witnesses going through dementia or treating someone with dementia. Ignoring Mafia film genre restraints, Capone practically displays Al’s bed defecating, sudden urination and irritable bole syndrome; leading to immense flatulence in front of an FBI investigator. Capone welcomes the silly moments (including a vegetable cigar) to tell the full story, even at the risk of a classic over the top Tom Hardy performance; that in the end accurately sells the point home of Al’s struggle. Al Capone, the most feared gangster of his time, soon comes to fear his own crew and reverts back to childhood films to regain some much-needed comfort in his sickness. Remembering himself as a boy, all the while cursing everyone around him, including his wife. Capone expresses that it possibly took an illness to force humanity within Al; even if it created hatred towards his family in return. One of the biggest points the film makes, is the contrast between the disgustingly ugly paranoid outrageous slog of Al’s last days, and the beautiful Floridian landscape that held it all. As to the interesting sense that as Al Capone retired to sitting in a chair and spiting all over himself, came he’s vulnerability, and in that vulnerability came the FBI; like the Mafia Al once orchestrated, long ago.

Trank uses expert directing patience, carefully crafting this unsettling character study without over doing the “gangster” elements, that most Mafia pictures can’t avoid. Though this version of Al Capone isn’t in his right mind, Trank doesn’t shy away from close ups of Al Capone’s bloodshot eyes and various scars, as Al Capone stews in his real assumptions and derangements. Many of Trank’s signature darkness and grim special effects is sprinkled plenty throughout the film; akin to Chronicle (2011) and Fantastic Four (2015), giving the film a much further uniqueness amongst its genre, apart from Tom Hardy’s committed performance.

Tom Hardy does extremely fun yet focused work as Al Capone. Going from cartoonish to villainous to meek and mild. With a gurglingly, crunchy voice, immense prosthetics, cigar glued to the lips, bloodshot contacts and a fake receding hairline; at first seems absolutely silly with a rage filled performance, and a flatulence scene of fake fart noises; but as scenes progress, Tom Hardy captures that grim portrayal of a person’s dark and sorry soul, trapped in a body ready to explode with remorse and anguish. Though Tom Hardy isn’t the only one who shines in this mild epic - Linda Cardellini does her best work since Freak and Geeks (1999), playing Al Capone’s wife Mae; powerfully embodying a woman at the end of her rope, haggardly displaying absolute pain, stress, anger and worry, throughout the whole picture through her face alone.

Once Capone comes to a close, you more and more realize that there’s no going back. Knowing Al Capone had it coming to him in the first place, there’s a slight irony to it all; but eventually coming to the point that ‘what comes up, must come down’ in the most fascinating way possible for Al Capone. 8/10.

• Maurice Jones

Possessor (2020)

In the near future, a private organization that specializes in body takeover assimilate assassinations, runs into a major problem when their top assassin (played by Andrea Riseborough), is trapped in the body of a host who’s conscious.

Possessor is the sophomore effort by Brandon Cronenberg; son of David Cronenberg. And the similarities definitely do not stop at last names. Possessor is a moody and dark visionary metaphor of the world we live in today with our relationship to technology and what it really means to us. Wrapped in violent brutal assassinations and cringe worthy skin to technology penetration in a downtown Toronto landscape; Possessor is practically a ‘brand new’ David Cronenberg film. However, one important difference between David and Brandon is how they see their characters. David Cronenberg sees his protagonists going towards something they don’t understand without hesitation or carefulness, and they ultimately end up in fatal trouble when they’ve gone too far. Brandon Cronenberg’s Possessor treats its protagonist as more aware and concerned with the mission at task and what it requires. The tension of the film comes from the idea that Tasya (played by Andrea Riseborough) is worried that her job will soon betray her, and that she might not be able to cross an important obstacle with taking over one’s mind and body to commit an assassination. Oppose his dad, Brandon Cronenberg seems to want his protagonist to succeed but learn something from an intense tragedy or mishap. This somehow makes a more relatable leap between the idea of the world we live in and technology, more so than David Cronenberg intends to do with his films; as the bleakness is lessened with vague optimism.

Possessor is quite the allegory to fear of job loss, job status and economic status while making a clever commentary on the fact that as citizens we trade our privacy for products to major companies like it’s nothing. The body takeover is definitely a clear metaphor of privacy takeover and controlled advertised decision making; ie - Facebook. Tasya in Possessor is self conscious and unsure, leading to mistake after mistake, but also leading her to use the host she’s occupied, to lash out for the host in their perspective; but as a therapy for herself. This metaphor lends to the transgender experience of being in a body not related to who you are on the inside, and the catfish phenomenon of pretending to be someone else online with a fake photo and profile, to experience oneself in a way without rejection; or to lure someone into a relationship under false pretenses.

Brandon Cronenberg paints a world where we learn what it is to be in someone’s shoes, literally. It serves as a reminder that the individual is the most important part to humanities survival. Not a corporation or empire, no matter how much they may convince you otherwise.

Possessor is a much-needed recent entry in the Cronenberg family of technological horror. One that hits home now, more than ever. 9/10.

• Maurice Jones

Bad Education (2020) - Stanley Kubrick’s Election

Based on a true crime in 2002, where a high school superintendent and vice superintendent stole millions in taxpayer dollars on self goods, covering their spending with false company names in the schools accounting – Hugh Jackman plays Frank Tassone the superintendent in question, and Allison Janney plays Pam Gluckin the vice superintendent, in this real tale about white privilege, under appreciation of teachers and capitalism.

You may think Bad Education is another cheap comedic entry in the “Bad” title of movies, that started with Bad Santa but you’d be wrong. Bad Education is an intelligent carefully crafted story based on a true story about sociopathy and greed but coming from the perspective of teachers in the reality that they deserve more than what they’re offered; being the touchstone of all of our education that leads us to proper adulthood. Instead teachers are forgotten and beyond unappreciated despite their crucial importance to the world at large. The films about hiding who you really are in cover to project the stereotype of the All-American authority figure, even at the cost of hiding in the closet as Frank feels he must do to gain respect as a gay man, especially in 2002. Bad Education subtly but accurately touches on the idea of White-Collar crime, and reveals the reality that in real life Frank Tassone received a $173,000 payday severance, even after committing fraud and being released from jail. Bad Education in humanity sense, is about how far greed takes you, no matter how much you feel you deserve a reward even if you take from everyone else.

Director Cory Finley is not afraid to create blunt characters and play out situations in an unclothe way and but realistically. This is Cory Finley’s most mature work yet and places his debut Thoroughbreds as a warm up to the big leagues with Bad Education. The direction quietly observes the characters and their choices, from slowly zoomed out frames very reminiscent of Stanley Kubirk’s technique, with stagnant shots of biting unflinching conversation, and matter of fact dialogue that unveils the real horror right before your eyes; ie – The Shining (1980). All this mixed with the bitingly sardonic aesthetic and outlook of Alex Payne’s Election (1999).

Like Thoroughbreds Bad Education’s ending is surreal, but this time the point is clear and makes a powerful impact when all the characters choices are made and all things are said and done. Bad Education will be seen as a classic in years time, exposing the truth of a corrupt school system and White-Collar greed, but truly will be Cory Finley’s masterpiece, looking back. 9/10.

-         -  Maurice Jones

Arkansas (2020) - Bad, Boring Coen Brothers

I like Clark Duke, especially during his days on Clark and Michael, but his film writing/directing debut Arkansas, is a hollow, tired, lazy mess of a crime dramady buddy picture, that feels like someone just saw a Coen brothers movie and thought it was enough to fix up a first draft with an ensemble cast including John Malkovich, and ignore tone, balance and meaning from a movie that’s more swallow and pointlessly reckless than a slip n slide. Not to mention Clark Duke seems to think displaying a man harassing a girl into dating him is romantic and that calling it out as creepy makes it okay. Side note - The film shows Clark Duke thinks women should be portrayed as stupid and helpless.

Arkansas comes in chapters, and chapter 2 and chapter 4 are the best because they both feel like a different film from the rest of it. A better film, one where Vince Vaughan plays a drug dealer in the 1980s who will soon meet his brutal end - Now that’s a movie. Instead we have to go back to the other chapters where Clark Duke and Liam Hemsworth have to bore us to death with self assured tacky dialogue based on a plot every beginner film student has dreamt of. Absolute nonsense that can only work if you don’t have your head entirely up your narcissistic incel ass.

I like Liam Hemsworth. He’s convincing in everything he does but along Clark Duke and this bad rip-off script, I feel bad for him because he deserves better. And who is insane enough as Clark Duke to direct and star in a movie that requires real emotion and conviction to give importance to, that Clark Duke himself can NEVER deliver as the fourth in the Hot Tub Time Machine movies. Sad. And Clark, the score for this film doesn’t help your cause and putting the Flaming Lips in a scene, just so you can film yourself enjoying them is fucking weird. Knock it off.

With a talented cast, Arkansas unfortunately is a waste of massive portions, and makes me sad and apathetic towards independent film of this kind. Thank you for the let down, Clark. Skip Arkansas. 4/10.

P.S. Taking from the school of writing and directing from Bradley Cooper, in that you off yourself as a character to give the film meaning and depth, is emotionally bankrupt and demented, not to mention extremely insulting to the audience. Again - Knock it off, Clark.

• Maurice Jones

Variety (1983) - What If Travis Bickle Was A Woman?

When a naive girl named Christine (played by Sandy McLeod); down on her luck in 1980’s New York City; decides to take on a job at a porno cinema as a ticket taker; her self inflicted boredom leads her into a dangerous investigation.

1983’s Variety directed by Bette Gordon is most definitely the female take on Taxi Driver. As Travis Bickle is the creepy male counterpart misanthrope, who’s in need of a job, deciding to drive Taxi’s and taking people where they need to go, all the while noticing what he hates the most about New York City and taking his obsession of a woman to the idea that she’ll love him if he proves himself worthy. Christine on the other hand, is a more sympathetic character, she doesn’t look down on the New York City or anyone. Christine already knows her worth and through the female perspective Christine’s obsession with a man is about what’s wrong with the man himself as oppose proving herself to get the man to care. Variety paints a picture of a world where Christine’s innocence exposures the unfortunate cynicism of males and people alike. Christine gets preyed upon and gocked at just being a ticket taker at a cinema and has to watch her back constantly, while Travis Bickle is the predator and no matter how much he feels put upon, he’s still very much the one who would prey upon Christine. Ironically enough, Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver frequents a porno theatre daily as a place of solace, as Variety shows with Christine’s customers. In a way Travis Bickle spends his time waiting to control a woman as Christine spends her time trying not to be controlled by a man. Taxi Driver displays that power generally consumes men, as men being the main proprietors of power in the world. As Variety displays that women generally have love in their hearts, and would rather spend their time learning and understanding a person or system, than dominate it. Variety is the answer to the clumsy masculinity of Taxi Driver, and is much more heartbreaking and unique. Both though are great films exposing the common flaws of capitalism and the woes of loneliness, but out of the two, Variety was ahead of it’s time. 9/10. Check out Variety (1983).

• Maurice Jones

Never Rarely Sometimes Always (2020)

When a talented Pennsylvania teen named Autumn (played by Sidney Flanigan) finds out she’s pregnant, she has no choice but to go to an abortion clinic in New York City with her cousin Skylar (played by Talia Ryder), when Autumn realizes she has no support in her small Pennsylvania town.

Eliza Hittman’s third feature film Never Rarely Sometimes Always is a harrowing, heartbreaking, matter of fact, absorbing observation of teen pregnancy in rural Pennsylvania. Shot Guerilla style under a grey color plate of grey/gloomy skies, Eliza Hittman accurately captures the mundane limitations of Autumn’s life. To her abusive ex boyfriend, her busy/ removed mother, her abrasive disinterested step father, and her empty grocery store job. The camera stays with Autumn at every frame displaying her thoughts straight from her face, as she tries to comprehend the situation she’s trapped in, while keeping it all from her family. This is a character study of a broken girl who’s in a desperate place; Autumn is a girl whom loves to sing and write music, but without support and love when in need of an abortion, being a teenage makes that choice even harder. Never Rarely Sometimes Always properly depicts how a teenage would handle getting an abortion in New York City from rural Pennsylvania. From not having a place to stay to sleeping on the subway waiting for an appointment, to not having the money for the procedure, to discovering the next to impossible steps that need to be taken in getting an abortion from how long the procedure takes to the questions that need to be asked to a patient for their own well being. Eliza Hittman’s film also looks set in 2007, but that’s cause that’s how life is in certain rural Pennsylvania towns. Things aren’t as affordable or adaptable with current items and looks due to the economic state of a town, which gives an interesting insight within the film about the assumptions of all of America and the expectations of all pregnancy clinics in America as well.

Never Rarely Sometimes Always is importantly about the historical and systematic forcefulness towards young women and women in general, to do things they don’t want to do for the pleasure of others, especially for men. Whether it be to have sex, take a wage decrease or to be banned from getting an abortion or forced into getting one. Women/girls have always been forced into something with disregard towards their well being and will. Never Rarely Sometimes Always shines a sobering, disturbing light on those ongoing facts of society, as well within the pregnancy clinic community, exposing the truth that some clinics don’t want women to have an abortion and give them false information to delay the process of getting an abortion. Sad but true. Never Rarely Sometimes Always wants us to feel Autumn’s pain in the abortion system but also wants us to remember that Autumn is a teenage. A teenage with hopes and dreams and a creative spirit that will always be there when times are at their toughest.

Sidney Flanigan is an incredible actress that will no doubt be seen in many great roles to come. Her attention to detail when showing hurt, pain, apathy or happiness through her face, is extremely accurate, and her depiction of a teenager with unsure questions and bashful secrecy and having a wall up, feels too real. On top of that Sidney Flanigan’s singing voice is a treasure you’ll be glad to be exposed to, and her singing in the film is the shining light amongst the film’s gloomy oppressive atmosphere. The whole cast is incredible, including Autumn’s cousin Skyler played by Talia Ryder, who plays Autumn’s one and only support, helping and leading Autumn to her appointments and making sure things work out, even to her own physical expense. The acting is real as can be and has reminiscent feels of certain Canadian film making and of the Guerrilla style of directors Harmony Korine or Gary Burns.

Never Rarely Sometimes Always is beyond powerful, and though about a depressing but important subject matter, involving depressing scenes; The film is ultimately about the teenage spirit and female bond, empowerment and support, in a world where women face abuse from every which way from men of all kinds, and with the fact that we live in a society where women/girls can have their rights taken away from them at a moments notice. Never Rarely Sometimes Always will leave you sobered and heartbroken, but informed knowing some of the scary/overwhelming ins and outs of pregnancy/abortion politics that keep women from living the life they choose, on the hard headed/bullshit “Pro Life” side of things, and the importance of abortion clinics existing in general. Eliza Hittman though, leaves us with the important feeling of two teen girls who support each other through thick and thin, giggling it out through impossible feats.  10/10. The best film of 2020.

-          - Maurice Jones

Vivarium (2020) The romantic dramedy version of Cube

When couple Gemma and Tom go house searching, they stumble upon an idyllic housing neighbourhood that looks as identical as the next house and as it’s next house. Pulled into the promise of their would-be home being ideal forever, Gemma and Tom soon learn a lesson in starting the Nuclear Family, as they soon realize they can’t seem to physically leave the neighbourhood they just visited.

Lorcan Finnegan’s and Garrett Shanley’s Vivarium is an immediate allegory for a hetero couple settling down before they’re ready, and having kids in suburbia amongst the ever-changing housing market. Going through the motions of raising a family, the cliché of adult hood and parenthood and your kids becoming the negative parts of you.  Your independence is stolen from you when having a child.  Preventing your kids from watching tv all day. The father getting away from the family and the mother being the main caretaker thus their relationship moving apart, as the father -figure becomes traditionally the abusive parent of the two, seeing a child as a threat to his Manhood. 

Lorcan Finnegan’s direction in Vivarium uses Irish sensibilities and comedic dryness, displaying a grey disposition amongst a clean green neighbourhood landscape of fake pink clouds, primary blue skies and green spotless grassy yards. This style creates a biting, sharp templates for the satirical conversations the film contemplates, between Gemma and Tom; A rejection of perfection in Suburbia, the young taking over the old, retired being another word for dead, the idea people raised in suburbs are sent out to inhabit cities with the same regurgitated values of their broken parents, continuing corporate structure in a capitalist wheel of profit from assembly line fixtures. Though these ideas are a little on the nose, they are effective, and the films focus is intended and poignant on the truth about the societal pressures of housing, marriage and kids.

Vivarium has touches and attributes of films reminiscent of David Lynch’s Eraserhead (1977), in the idea of an exaggerated degree of parenthood, expressing the extreme transformation from not having a child to having a child and the fear, trials and tribulations of parenthood. All presented in a comedic yet disturbing and sardonically odd, manic and twisted picture; much like a Twilight Zone or Black Mirror. As the Vivarium goes on, your feel the anxiety and anger encroach upon Gemma and Tom as they bicker between each other like a married couple, and then notice hopelessness and drain become them.

Imogen Poots and Jesse Eisenberg do perfect work, with Jesse Eisenberg at his darkest acting yet since The Squid and The Whale (2007) and The Social Network (2010). And Imogen Poots finally gets to shine in her original British dialect, as strong as can be in a lead role that takes her from optimistic, frustrated, strategic, apathetic, determined and defeated in another great horror adjacent role.

Vivarium is perfect parts dark and satirical, classically telling a tale about something most of us go through or will go through. The type of satire that expands the Horror/SciFi genre and makes it better, as well as being the exact fuel both genres thrive on. Kids aren’t easy, finding the perfect home isn’t easy and neither is marriage. Lorcan Finnegan’s direction and Garrett Shanley’s screenplay conjure up the right pin point of what going through these milestones of society, feel like on the inside. Vivarium reminds us that genre pictures can never die as they are the glue of films that not only entertain us, but make us think. Vivarium is a must watch for any genre fan and especially for anyone trying to buy a house and start a family. 8/10.

-        -   Maurice Jones