Review: False Positive

Image courtesy of A24.

"False Positive" is a horror thriller with a few things on its mind — so, it's a shame that it doesn't do a better job of articulating them. The film aims to be a modern "Rosemary's Baby," but without the Satan worship, and chronicles the fear — and possible paranoia — of a young mother in waiting whose nine months of pregnancy are anything but a joy.

For starters, Lucy (Ilana Glazer) and her husband, Adrian (Justin  Theroux), have long tried and failed to conceive a child. Considering that they are both getting older, he proposes visiting a doctor named Hindle (Pierce Brosnan), who is a former teacher of Adrian's and, apparently, a whiz at helping women having difficulty getting pregnant with carrying it off.

But something seems amiss, at first, just with Hindle, whose promises seem to be too good to be true, and his creepy head nurse (played by Gretchen Mol), but eventually with Adrian, who appears to be hiding something, and everyone else with whom Lucy comes into contact.

There are some genuinely interesting ideas at play here — women's lack of control over their own bodies due to domineering men's schemes, sexism in the workplace (Lucy is constantly having to order food for her otherwise male coworkers), plot threads revolving around consent and racial issues — Lucy comes to consider a Black midwife as some sort of mystical figure who will bring her to enlightenment, and is then called out on it.

The problem is that all of these potentially intriguing concepts just get thrown at the audience, often with little follow-through, and seemingly without an overall purpose. For example, the scene involving the midwife comes somewhat out of nowhere and feels tacked on, rather than fully developed. Also, the continuous use of the term "mommy brain" begins to grate on the nerves — as it's supposed to, considering how the other characters wield it as a weapon against Lucy.

While the twist ending is one that most won't exactly figure out, it's creepy enough to land a punch had the filmmakers known how to present it. As it stands, it's just an unsettling scene — somewhat lacking in tension due to the near-comedic way it plays out — that leads to an even ickier scene that... well, I just can't, as the kids used to say.

The film's final image is meant to be grotesquely bizarre — and it is, but it's yet another attempted shock value moment in a movie teeming with such instances, none of which blend to form a cohesive whole. Jordan Peele's "Get Out" ushered in a new era of socially conscious horror that has seen some bright spots, but "False Positive" is a film with a number of hot topic concepts floating around in search of a thesis that can bind them together.

Review: Luca

Image courtesy of Disney.

At a mere 84 minutes, some are describing "Luca" as Pixar's shortest (true) and among its least consequential (disagree). While it doesn't rank with some of the animation studio's most beloved classics — "Wall-E" or "Up" — the film is far from a lesser entry in the Pixar canon. 

The film is certainly light and breezy when compared with some of the studio's weightier fare — the recent "Soul" or the lovely "Inside Out," for example — but its central story about outsiders and judging one by one's skin — or, in this case, scales — packs an emotional punch that pays dividends in the film's final moments.

The story opens with a curious and adventurous young "sea monster" named Luca (voiced by Jacob Tremblay) who is bored with his life, which consists of shepherding his flock of small fish — my favorite is the vacant-eyed and slightly mischievous Giuseppe — and being bossed by his parents (Maya Rudolph and Jim Gaffigan), who want him to never venture near the surface of the water.

His parents' fears aren't completely unfounded. The picture opens with two fishermen out on a boat who are scared when they see a sea monster float by and they attempt to hit it with a harpoon. But kids will be kids, and Luca goes off adventuring, meeting another young sea monster named Alberto (Jack Dylan Grazer), who seemingly lives on his own and schools Luca on the ways of the land.

You see, once the sea monsters venture out of the water, they are able to shake off the wetness and give off the appearance of human beings. So, Luca and Alberto no longer are blue- and purple-pigmented when out of the water, but look like two young Italian boys (the story is set off the coast of Italy). In a plot strand that would take too long to explain, let's just say they become obsessed with obtaining a Vespa, which they intend to use to travel the world.

They learn of a marathon race in a nearby coastal town involving biking, swimming and eating pasta that pays the winner, and they come up with a plan to enter the race and win the prize. Others who intend to enter the competition include a nasty young man named Ercole (Saverio Raimondo), who has won the competition for the past several years and is, truth be told, probably too old to be competing against a bunch of children; and a spunky red-haired girl named Giulia (Emma Berman), who grudgingly allows Luca and Alberto to join her racing team.

Giulia's father is a gigantic fellow named Massimo (Marco Barricelli), a fisherman who brags about his ability to chop up anything that comes from the sea (gulp). He allows the boys to apprentice for him in his boat — a risky move, considering any splash of water onto them reveals their identities — to earn the money to enter the contest.

The film mostly goes places you expect it to, but it's a genuinely funny — Sacha Baron Cohen pops up as Luca's bizarre deep sea uncle — and often emotionally resonant little story, especially as Luca and Alberto's friendship hits a bump when the former becomes enthralled with Giulia's knowledge of the world and he decides he wants to attend her school far away in Genoa. This is a film that is generous towards its characters — well, maybe not Ercole — and there are some lovely moments that come out of the friendship between the three central characters.

So, while "Luca" might not be quite as revelatory as last year's "Soul," and its brisk pace and brief running time only allow for so much storytelling to take place, it's a genuine charmer. It joins "In the Heights" — another film with heart, soul and empathy — as the best of this summer's movie crop so far.

Review: In The Heights

Image courtesy of Warner Bros.

Exuberant and bursting with life, director John M. Chu's adaptation of Lin-Manuel Miranda's Broadway musical is the year's most pleasant surprise. Exhibiting an almost manic energy in nearly every scene, the film is the first of its type to understand how big-screen musicals are supposed to move and feel since "La La Land." 

In terms of story, it tells time-worn tales - in this case, of Usnavi (Anthony Ramos), a good natured young man who operates a bodega with his undocumented younger cousin, Sonny (Gregory Diaz IV), whom he mentors, all the while dreaming of moving back to his parents' homeland in the Dominican Republic, where he hopes to operate his own business.

But the story of Usnavi - whose name has an amusing origin - is only one of several to be told in "In the Heights." There's also his love interest, Vanessa (Melissa Barrera), who dreams of moving out of Washington Heights, where the story is set, to Manhattan to become a fashion designer. She has a knack for finding gems to turn into clothing while dumpster diving. 

Then, there's Benny (Corey Hawkins), Usnavi's best friend who works as a dispatcher at a limo company operated by Kevin (Jimmy Smits), whose daughter, Nina (Leslie Grace), is the girl who got out of the neighborhood to study at Stanford University. But she's back in town, and doesn't know how to break the news that she wants to drop out of school after feeling as if she doesn't fit in.

While these are the lead characters in the film, a number of other supporting characters are vividly brought to life by those who portray them - most notably, Abuela Claudia (Olga Merediz, who played the role in the stage production), an elderly Cuban woman who acts as a mother figure to the neighborhood's younger denizens. But there's also a trio of spunky hairdressers (Daphne Rubin-Vega, Stephanie Beatriz and Dascha Polanco), a neighborhood piragua vendor (Miranda) and a graffiti artist (Noah Catala).

New York City - once my home - has been the setting for thousands of movies over the years, but "In the Heights" is among the few that actually portray what life actually looks like in a neighborhood outside of Manhattan. Much is made in the picture about what it means to be a community, and the one portrayed in Chu's film actually gives off the vibe of one in the five boroughs.

It also helps that the entire cast can really sing, and the dance numbers are often jaw dropping - especially a Busby Berkeley-styled one at a swimming pool and another visually compelling one in which Usnavi looks out his bodega window and a large number of dancers are reflected in its window. The film also pulls at the heartstrings, but in a manner that doesn't feel trite. The stories surrounding the characters and their various plights - and their hopes and dreams involved in being an immigrant in modern America - are deeply felt.

Ramos gives a star-making performance as Usnavi, while the rest of the film's primarily young cast will also likely become more recognizable after their excellent turns in the film. Chu previously directed "Crazy Rich Asians," which was often amusing, but just as often over-the-top. Here, his do-it-large sensibilities pay off significantly more. 

And those who were blown away by Miranda's iconic stage production of "Hamilton" will be pleased to learn that this previous creation - which debuted on Broadway before "Hamilton" - is also bursting with imagination. He's undoubtedly the most exciting voice in musicals - onscreen or onstage - working today. 

"In the Heights" is a lovely, rousing and highly entertaining musical and the first must-see movie of the summer. For more than a year, audiences have been mostly absent from movie theaters due to the coronavirus pandemic. It might take a little while to lure people back to cinemas, but if there's any big Hollywood movie that displays exactly what audiences have been missing, this is it.

Review: The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It

Image courtesy of New Line Cinema.

With "The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It," the horror franchise started by James Wan seven years ago has taken a noticeable decline in quality. This is not to say that the expanded cinematic universe spawned by "The Conjuring" films - which include the poor "The Nun" and "The Curse of La Llorona" and the "Annabelle" movies, which vary in quality - has necessarily all been good, but the first two "Conjuring" films were effective and frightening.

The downgrade on this third outing might be due to Wan handing over the directing reins to Michael Chaves - who also directed "La Llorona" - as well as the decision to add a fair amount of extracurricular activity for its two leads, Ed (Patrick Wilson) and Lorraine Warren (Vera Farmiga), to accompany its central plot, which tells the true story of the widely publicized case of Arne Johnson (played here by Ruairi O'Connor), who stabbed his landlord to death in Connecticut in 1981 and claimed in court that he was possessed by demons.

As the film opens, Ed and Lorraine are battling a particular sinister demon in David Glatzel (Julian Hilliard), a young boy whose sister is engaged to Arne. The entire opening sequence reeks of "The Exorcist" influence, from the boy's body twisting and his speaking in creepy voices to a priest who shows up at the house with a briefcase in hand (the shot nearly matches that of the iconic one in William Friedkin's 1973 classic). In a moment of bravery, Arne grabs the young boy and tells the demon to take him instead. We later find it that it has complied with his wishes.

After Arne later stabs his gregarious landlord - to the tune of Blondie's "Call Me" - and is taken to jail, Ed and Lorraine realize that there's something they must have missed during their treatment of David. The demon possessing Arne appears to come and go, and it's here that the film's plot veers wildly off track as the Warrens investigate the disappearance of a young woman in a nearby town and start to see some connections between the two cases.

While the extension of one's disbelief is necessary to enjoy the "Conjuring" films - which are based on "true" cases - some absurd liberties are taken in this third film, most notably a scene in which Arne, in a prison hospital, undergoes some sort of moment of possession in which he floats around the room while a priest and his young wife - do they really let prisoners' spouses just wander around inside a jail without supervision? - try to perform an exorcism. Also, a subplot involving a master satanist who the Warrens believe is behind both cases seems to have been just thrown in for entertainment purposes, although it weighs the film down with too much uninteresting exposition.

While the previous "Conjuring" films had some moments of pure fright, nearly every horrific scene in "The Devil Made Me Do It" involves windows blowing open, loud shouting, items flying around rooms and an apocalyptic vibe every time the demon is confronted. It's as if Chaves is channeling his inner Michael Bay for a movie that might have used a bit more subtlety for its scares.

As usual, Farmiga and Wilson are a pleasure to watch, although they are stuck delivering leaden dialogue with a straight face. And once the plotline involving the satanist kicks in, the main attraction - the notorious Arne Johnson case - is pushed to the side, leaving Arne's character with the sole purpose of occasionally being possessed and causing a scene at the jail. 

Perhaps, the "Conjuring" universe has suffered somewhat from overkill. The spinoff films have been of lesser quality and now the main series is starting to lag. If they decide to make a fourth film, let's hope the story is more compelling and the adage "less is more" is applied. This third "Conjuring" film is proof that the series is starting to show some wear and tear.

Review: Undine

Image courtesy of IFC Films.

Director Christian Petzold follows up his transfixing "Transit" with an even stranger film - "Undine" - that is based on the legend of a water nymph who falls in love with a man, but - depending on which variation of the legend you know - either he or she is doomed to die if he is unfaithful. 

As the film opens, Undine (Paula Beer) is confronting a recent lover named Johannes (Jacob Matschenz) at a cafe, where he is telling her that he has met someone else and wants to break off their relationship. She warns him that if he does, she'll be forced to kill him. He thinks it over, while Undine goes back to her job, which involves her being a tour guide who gives presentations on urban development in the 30 years since the fall of the Berlin Wall.

After giving her lecture, she goes back to the cafe, where she is supposed to meet Johannes to discuss the matter further - he's not there - and instead bumps into another man, Christoph (Franz Rogowski, the hero of "Transit") and after some further fumbles, he accidentally breaks a gigantic glass fish tank, which sends the pair to the floor covered in water. Somehow, this leads to them agreeing to going on a date.

Christoph is a professional diver, although it's a little unclear to what end his work is utilized. He takes Undine down into the water to get a glimpse of what he experiences daily, although there's a sense that she's familiar with the water, especially when the name "Undine" is found scrawled on an underwater wall and when she floats near the top of the surface caressing a gigantic catfish that Christoph has seen on his numerous dives.

The film has a strange, dreamlike quality that is punctuated by this underwater scene involving the catfish, but is especially gorgeous when it shows Christoph and Undine floating in the water as if they were floating through air. The underwater scenes are breathtaking, adding to the picture's somewhat surreal allure. 

Later in the film, a tragedy strikes and Christoph is taken out of the picture for a while. A scene in which he accuses Undine over the phone of lying to him is later refuted to have taken place by a diving partner of Christoph's, and Undine fulfills a promise late in the movie to Johannes, much to his horror. The film has the feeling of a strange fairy tale, and much is left to the imagination as to what it all means.

Petzold is one of world cinema's most interesting filmmakers, and certainly one of the finest that Germany has to offer at the moment. "Transit" was a fascinating, modernized take on "Casablanca," while "Undine" utilizes fairy tales and legends to craft a story that's not always exactly easy to get a grasp on - but I don't mean this as a slight. It's a beguiling - if slightly minor - work from a major director. It will likely cast a spell on those who submit to it.