Fear Street Part Three: 1666

Director: Leigh Janiak
Starring: Kiana Madeira, Olivia Scott Welch, Ashley Zukerman, Gillian Jacobs, Benjamin Flores Jr., Sadie Sink, Darrell Britt Gibson, Fred Hechinger, Julia Rehwald, Emily Rudd, Ted Sutherland, McCabe Slye, Jordana Spiro, Jordyn DiNatale, Elizabeth Scopel, Ryan Simpkins
Running Time: 114 min.
Rating: R  

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

If Fear Street Part One cleverly took inspiration from 90's horror movies like Scream and a supernatural side helping of Stranger Thing and the superior Part Two delivered a dead-on tribute to 70's teen slashers like Friday The 13th, what could now become of the trilogy's third and possibly final film? While the preview oddly indicated something along the lines of Back to the Future Part III, the main reference point is folk horror in the vein of Robert Eggers' The Witch, The Wicker Man, or even more plainly, The Crucible. But if the idea of stringing a single narrative through three movies with the same cast in different eras is an intriguing one, the format's payoff is ultimately what matters. Almost everything needs to converge in such a way that audiences get satisfying answers and aren't taken on a manipulative ride.

As 1978 demonstrated, director/co-writer Leigh Janiak is having quite the run proving she's up to the task this storytelling experiment requires. And notwithstanding the creative pitfalls that could trip up an endeavor this inventive, it does come together in the end. Not without some flaws and certain questionable choices in the last act, what's promised mostly comes to pass, with style, suspense and excitement to spare. It might also be the thematically deepest entry, tackling some timely issues through the lens of an entirely different period and setting. 

If this stayed the course throughout, the sky would have been the limit, but there's also that nagging issue of a mythology to wrap up. It does that well, even if the Stranger Things comparisons will justifiably be out in full force again. If those allusions were noticeably present in Part One, they disappeared in the second installment when Janiak picked exactly one thing to do and did it masterfully. Regardless of its inspiration, the middle chapter felt original, like a great horror movie you'd want to rewatch endlessly. 1666 isn't that, but with a strong lead performance and memorable finale, the third Fear Street takes us back to how it all began in order to effectively close things out.

After returning the severed hand to the corpse of accused witch Sarah Fier, Deena (Kiana Madeira) has a vision, transporting her from 1994 to 1666 as she gets a firsthand perspective through the eyes of Sarah, witnessing past events as they're happening. Living in Union with father George (Randy Havens) and brother Henry (Benjamin Flores Jr.) before its eventual division into Sunnyvale and Shadyside, she's embroiled in a secret, forbidden romance with Pastor Miller's daughter Hannah (Olivia Scott Welch). 

The recipient of constant harassment from town drunk, Mad Thomas (McCabe Slye), Sarah finds herself having an encounter with the reclusive "Widow" (Jordana Spiro) deep in the woods, as she and Hannah discover a mysterious book of black magic. The girls return to a town suddenly beseiged by bad luck and death with townsfolk believing witchcraft to be the cause. Targeting them as the perpetrators, the residents begin their hunt, even as Sarah looks for help from trusted confidant Solomon Goode (Ashley Zukerman), the only person who believes in her innocence. With the walls closing in and Sarah set to be hanged, in 1994 Deena must use the new information she's gained through her vision to break the curse, as Ziggy (Gillian Jacobs) comes face-to face with her traumatic past and the Shadyside killers are summoned to make their final stand. 

Having the same actors playing a multiple roles in various timelines can be jarring so it helps when there's solid reasoning behind it. From the start it's easy to have doubts since there isn't much of explanation other than that some members the cast are playing relatives of whomever they were in the previous entries. But in other instances, certain actors are almost extras of sorts, causing confusion in the early minutes as we're trying to find our bearings in the 1666 story. You could say Deena "leaps" into Sarah Fier, experiencing everything as her, with the romance between Sarah and Hannah serving as a mirror image of Deena's rocky relationship with Samantha in 1994, as actress Olivia Scott Welch also pulls double duty in two roles. But once all that's established, Janiak does an admirable job fleshing out Sarah's backstory and dives headfirst into the folk horror aesthetic.

The girls' plight is caused by a growing lie when someone tells someone else, and before long it's spreading through town like wildfire. It's gripping how the film tracks the trajectory of this while making it known that being viewed as "different" is what dooms them. The script does a skillful job of touching on issues of contemporary relevance without preaching since so much of it already feels ingrained into this particular story. As death and destruction reigns down upon Union, Janiak extends her streak of not holding back on the gore and violence (particularly in a disturbing church scene), as Sarah's eventually led down a path of discovery the townsfolk are destined to remain ignorant toward, having convinced themselves she's the source of evil. The reveal of the actual villain's identity isn't exactly a shocker, but doesn't have to be since it makes sense by tightening the last screws of this three-film spanning mythology. 

Kiana Madeira taking on the Sarah Fier role proves to be more than just a gimmick, as she delivers a performance that's considerably more affecting than her work as Deena. There's dramatically heavier lifting in this storyline and she rises to the occasion in suprising ways alongside Olivia Scott Welch as Hannah. While there's more than faint echos of familiarity to their 1994 counterparts, they are entirely different characters, so it's a testament to both that they play them as such, navigating a fairly tricky situation. 

The rest of the cast mainly provides backround support in smaller, less pivotal roles than the previous installments with Sadie Sink, Emily Rudd, Fred Hechinger and Julia Rehwald making sporadic appearances that don't amount to anything of great consequence. It would almost be too convoluted if they did, but you still have to question if they were included if only to keep with a running continuity throughout the trilogy. Ashley Zukerman and Jordana Spiro's respective roles as Solomon Goode and the Widow are more purposeful, directly linking to the events that make up the last third of the film.     

Inevitably, the script circles back to 1994 for its conclusion, as what happened to Sarah Fier and how the curse managed to pass through generations to torture Shadysiders for centuries becomes valuable information for Deena. The final half hour is kind of a thrilling mess with her and the gang trying to lift the curse (and its spell over Samantha) in a battle between good and evil at the Shadyside Mall that recalls the climactic Starcourt Mall showdown in last season's Stranger Things. Despite that, Janiak again doubles down on the violence while still efficiently tying up all the loose ends. And if we were given a music breather with Marco Beltrani's haunting 1666 score taking the place of 70's and 90's hits, some more mid 90's classics make a welcome return at the end, reminding us what might be most remembered about this trilogy is its soundtrack.

Fear Street proves itself capable of sampling different genres and mixing them into a fresh concoction that works better than it ever should have. If 1978 is far and away the strongest of the three entries, the others at least don't pale in comparison, especially now that we can see how everything connects. Still, creating this kind of "expanded universe" can also hurt if more creative energy is spent trying to explain what happened before and set up what's next than focus on the movie in front of us. The second entry proves immune from this by standing alone with a singular vision of exactly what it wanted to be and following through completely. Working within a new format that carried a high risk of creative failure, Janiak deserves a lot of credit for putting her own distinctive stamp on it. She kind of stitches pieces of pop culture and classic slashers together to create this Frankenstein's monster of an R.L. Stine adaptation that still has legs to continue. And based on what we've already seen, it's hard to argue it shouldn't.

Fear Street Part Two: 1978

Director: Leigh Janiak
Starring: Sadie Sink, Emily Rudd, Ryan Simpkins, McCabe Slye, Ted Sutherland, Gillian Jacobs, Jordana Spiro, Kiana Madeira, Benjamin Flores Jr., Olivia Scott Welch, Ashley Zukerman, Chiara Aurelia, Jordyn DiNatale, Sam Brooks, Julia Rehwald, Fred Hechinger
Running Time: 110 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

An improvement in nearly every way over its previous entry, Fear Street Part Two: 1978 breaks free from the shackles of its trilogy format to stand on its own as a darker, more tightly written and engrossing effort. If the entertaining but creatively mixed 1994 entry could have doubled as a series pilot, this feels more cinematic, going so far as to fill in some of the bigger holes in that first film, making it play better in retrospect. While it's already been established this isn't going to be a series of films startling us with their originality, a lot of thought clearly went into this middle installment, which avoids feels derivative despite patterning itself off a very specific sub-genre. It also proves Leigh Janiak has a bit more up her sleeve as a director than originally suspected, invoking the tone and spirit of an old school teen camp summer slasher in cleverly subversive ways. 

Revolving around three terrific central performances and a classic setting, the movie knows exactly what it's supposed to do and follows through, rarely bogged down by some of the expositional excursions and winking that made its predecessor seem just slightly less than the sum of its parts. In veering the furthest distance yet from the younger-skewing, mainstream-friendly vibe of R.L. Stine's brand, Janiak breaks a few unwritten rules that should satisfy more devoted horror fans. And if it's still up for debate just how effective the central mythos running through the trilogy is, there's no question this sequel enhances it, while also delivering enough urgency to firmly stand on its own, regardless of what comes before or after. 

Picking up where the action left off in 1994, Deena (Kiana Madeira) and Josh Johnson (Bejamin Flores Jr.) have restrained Deena's posessed girlfriend Sam (Olivia Scott Welch) and taken her to the house of C. Berman (Gillian Jacobs) for help. As a survivor of the infamous Camp Nightwing massacre of 1978, she knows a thing or two about the curse of the Fier witch and Shadyside's long history of murders related to it. Angry, depressed and drowning her sorrows in a bottle, she reluctantly agrees to recount the events of that summer as we flash back when Berman sisters Ziggy (Sadie Sink) and Cindy (Emily Rudd) attended Nightwing as camper and counselor, respectively. 

While younger, rebellious sister Ziggy is harrassed and accussed of theft by popular camp bully Sheila (Chiara Aurelia) the prim and preppy Cindy has fully shed any hints of her Shadysider status, even if current boyfriend and fellow counselor Tommy Slater (McCabe Slye) thinks she could stand to loosen up a bit. Co-counselor and ex-best friend Alice (Ryan Simpkins), along with her pothead boyfriend Arnie (Sam Brooks) seem to agree, constantly flaunting their disregard for the rules in Cindy's face. 

When Tommy has an unfortunate run-in with Mary Lane (Jordana Spiro), camp nurse and mother of past Shadyside killer, Ruby Lane (Jordyn DiNatale), an unspeakable evil is released into him as he goes on a muderous rampage, brutally taking out counselors and campers in the dead of night. Forming a bond with couselor and future sheriff Nick Goode (Ted Sutherland), self-described "weirdo" Ziggy becomes even more convinced of the curse while a still skeptical Cindy and troubled Alice must put their personal issues aside to survive the ongoing carnage. 

What boosts this entry tremdously is that it centers almost entirely around a single event. That alone gives it a laserlike focus it's 1994 counterpart lacked, as it frequently waffled between characters and situations to explain the complexities of the Fier witch curse. So after a brief prologue dealing with it, Janiak is freed to make a good old fashioned slasher about an ax-wielding madman terrorizing a 70's summer camp. And since the Friday The 13th franchise became entangled in a decade-long legal battle preventing any forthcoming films, this is the closest we're likely to get one. Of course,it's still Netflix, so it has a much cleaner look and isn't as authentically scuzzy, but the inspiration is present enough that Camp Nightwing may as well double as Crystal Lake. But the big surprise is that if this wasn't marketed as part of a YA trilogy and there were no preconceived judgments about Stine's literary output, this would have undoubtedly receive more praise than it's gotten. 

Drawing heavily from not only Friday The 13th, but Sleepaway Camp and even The Town That Dreaded Sundown, there's a substantial middle stretch where everything that could go right with this  film does. It's easy to imagine Stine grinning from ear-to-ear realizing this is getting away with showing things he'd never be allowed to describe for his younger readers as the adaptation finally gives him some Stephen King cred. If one of Fear Street:1994's better qualities was Janiak's refusal to hold back while replicating the self-referential horror of the 90's, she's takes it up a level here with a more interesting genre period to draw from with the 70's, featuring characters that just seem wilder, meaner, and even hornier, eventually paying for it in graphically unsettling ways. 

Realizing we've reached a point where what's left of the teen slasher has become sanitized and wiped clean of the chaos that made them touchstones for a certain generation, Janiak uses this setting to pay homage. And in capturing the pranks, crushes and goofy comedic moments that accompany them, it becomes just as fun as it is suspenseful. After an effective backstory sets up Tommy's reign of terror,  the possessed counselor starts picking off victims and it becomes kind of shocking how little is off limits. Also helping is the fact that this is actually a functioning camp that younger kids and pre-teens  attend, racheting up concern in viewers that they're in legitimate danger. And they are. 

Stranger Things' Sadie Sink carries the whole picture on her back as the rebellious Ziggy while Emily Rudd equals her every step of the way as uptight Cindy, We're initially given hints as to what caused their sibling rift, but there ends up being a lot more to each of their stories that comes through over the course of this ordeal. Similarly, Ryan Simpkins shares great chemistry with Rudd's Cindy as the punkish Alice, which is a relief considering they share a significant chunk of their screen time together trapped underground in arguably the film's slowest section. But this sequel does take more than a few important steps toward further fleshing out the feud between Shadyside and Sunnyvale, manifesting itself in a "Color Wars" battle that deteriorates into full-blown class warfare.  

Topping the preceding installment's soundtrack of impeccably selected 90's jams should be impossible, but this actually comes closer than it should, with some memorable tracks from Blue Oyster Cult, Kansas, Neil Diamond, Cat Stevens and The Velvet Underground. Music supervisors Lindsay Wolfington and Nora Felder also outdo themselves with their best needle drop yet, with both the David Bowie and Nirvana versions of "The Man Who Sold The World" perfectly bookending the film. The bloody, tension-filled, exhilarating closing sequence commences in an iconic image that feels like it has to be the final shot, but isn't. In a way though, it is, since much of what follows is the epilogue, which has to go back to 1994 to do some narrative housekeeping. There's even a Back to the Future Part III-style preview of Fear Street: 1666 tacked on at the end since all three installments were filmed in quick succession. 

It's here where we realize the drawbacks of a three-film format, as 1978 succeeds most on its own terms as a standalone slasher. I'd even go as far as to say that if you excised the prologue and epilogue and had no idea what preceded this, not much would be lost. As a self-professed Friday The 13th fan, the rewatchability factor on this one is high, but it also accomplishes exactly what the middle film in a trilogy should, further developing the important characters who appear in both timelines and increasing our investment in what happens next. In resurrecting the not so guilty pleasures of teen camp slashers, Janiak reminds us just how well this kind of movie works when helmed by someone who knows and respects the intricacies of the genre. And at a hefty two hours, it still somehow feels just right, suspensefully hitting its stride while laying a strong foundation for its final chapter.

Fear Street Part One: 1994

Director: Leigh Janiak
Starring: Kiana Madeira, Olivia Scott Welch, Benjamin Flores Jr., Julia Rehwald, Fred Hechinger, Ashley Zukerman, Darrell Britt-Gibson, Maya Hawke, Jordana Spiro, Jordyn DiNatale, David w. Thompson, Elizabeth Scopel, Gillian Jacobs
Running Time: 107 min.
Rating: R 

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

It's almost impossible to watch Netflix's Fear Street Part One: 1994 without wondering if the project would have existed in this incarnation without the success of Stranger Things. Despite being based on YA horror author R.L. Stine's Fear Street series of books that began in 1989 and being earmarked for an adaptation for years, you wouldn't be wrong to assume it was really The Duffer Brothers' achievement in mixing supernatural horror with Goonies-like nostalgia that really pushed this through. 

Drawing upon that series for far more than just mere inspiration, director Leigh Janiak employs a tone and style that will seem very familar to anyone who's even seen so much as a minute of that show. While she's hardly the first to borrow the template and it can be either good or bad depending on the execution, there's no question the bubble will have to burst at some point, even if we're not there yet. But as far as Stranger Things disciples go, it still ranks as one of the stronger efforts by managing to walk the very thin line of appealing to the younger demographic with its story and placating older horror fans by not cutting corners on the gore and violence.

Even as someone who wouldn't be a part of Netflix's target audience for this three-part series of films released over consecutive weeks, they've kind of made it impossible not to have a great time with it anyway. With familarly likeable, throwback characters, clever dialogue and a decent enough premise, it's also a giant mess of sorts, but one that has the noblest of intentions. So even if the MTV meets Riverdale aesthetic is starting to wear a little thin in pop culture of late, this makes as good a case as any that it can be partially overcome with the right approach. 

The name "R.L. Stine" isn't exactly synonomous with graphic violence, sex or murder, so that Janiak is  able to push things in this direction in a way that doesn't feel forced is impressive, even managing to secure an 'R' rating. Certain aspects are weird, flawed and occasionally cringeworthy, but you definitely won't be bored. Whether it has enough creative gas in the tank for two sequels and beyond remains to be seen, but even when the material goes overboard, it has a compulsively watchable quality that should suck most viewers in.

It's 1994 when mall bookstore employee Heather (Maya Hawke) is murdered by her friend Ryan (David W. Thompson), who's shot to death by authorities, marking the latest in a long line of murders plaguing the town of Shadyside. Many teens believe the source of these troubles stem from a witch named Sara Fier who was executed in 1666, shortly after allegedly placing a curse on the town, even if Sheriff Nick Goode (Ashley Zukerman) remains skeptical. 

Deena Johnson (Kiana Madeira) also has doubts, despite her brother Josh's (Benjamin Flores Jr.) obsession with collecting newspaper clippings of the murders, frequenting AOL chatrooms and researching the town's sordid history to confirm the witch theory. But when Deena's closeted girlfriend, Sam (Olivia Scott Welch) moves to the rich neighboring town of Sunnyvale, her drug-dealing friends Simon (Fred Hechinger) and Kate (Julia Rehwald) get involved in a brawl with the Sunnyvale teens during a vigil. When the fight leads to a terrible accident, Sam sees a vision of the Fier witch, forcing the four teens to band together to stop the murderous rampage that's descending upon Shadyside.

The film's opening might be its best overall sequence, with Maya Hawke playing a quirky B. Dalton employee being hunted after hours in the mall by a skeleton-costumed killer. Even if the Stranger Things vibes are heavily present due to the setting and actress, it's really meant to echo the opening of Scream, with Hawke's character and performance paying homage to Drew Barrymore's role in that film. And it does so successfully, with Janiak making it clear right away that she's come to play, delivering a payoff a whole lot more violent and atmospheric than expected given Stine's scholastic roots. And from there things really hit the ground running with an onslaught of action and exposition that rarely pauses for us to take a breath, introducing all the characters and setting the stage for the overarching mythology that follows. 

We're also inundated with a plethora of 90's music and cultural signposts that leave absolutely no doubt as to what decade we're in. With Nine Inch Nails, Bus, White Zombie and other era-specific hits all making soundtrack appearances within the film's first half hour, it wouldn't be unusual to hear complaints about nostalgic overkill. Since 1994 is pretty much my favorite period in music, I can handle being hammered with it, especially since the soundtrack is spectacular and Netflix didn't cheap out, securing the rights to original versions of these songs rather than inferior covers.

Thankfully, the breakneck pace slows down some when the horror plot begins unraveling and we settle in with the characters, who are suprisingly compelling considering each are very much fulfilling a specific 90's movie horror "type." The relationship between Deena and Sam bucks this trend a bit, as both have enough to them that they defy categorization while confidence-challenged underdog Josh (played really well by Flores, who was so good in Showtime's Your Honor) is the easiest to get behind. The screenplay gets a good amount of mileage out of his crush on the popular, but outwardly cold Kate while Fred Hechinger brings the same unhinged, off-the-wall eccentricity and charisma to Simon as he did to the recent The Woman in the Window, with loony mannerisms that at times recall a young Joaquin Phoenix.

The supernatural mythology involving the Fier witch, her ties to the multiple Shadyside killers and what's necessary to break this curse isn't where the film most excels. It's possible this changes in the next two installments when more layers of explanation are added, but right now it seems convoluted and too dependent on "rules" not yet fully established. The plot's fine for what it is, but where the picture's bread is really buttered is in its 90's setting and Janiak's willingness to not hold back on the violence when its story unquestionably calls for it. 

One particular killing toward the end is a brual shock considering Stine's reputation and the genre of books this is based on, so give Netflix credit for doing the opposite of watering things down. As a property, Fear Street was always going to be a cash grab, and while it's presentation doesn't exactly contradict that, it's at least done with some dignity and respect for the new audience it's aimed toward. But more importantly, it's just plain fun. It may also be one of the few times where a "To Be Continued" title card makes sense instead of causing viewers' to roll their eyes in frustration.

Occupying this strange content space that resides somewhere between an anthology horror series and a feature film trilogy, Netflix was the only feasible fit for this experiment. That the following entry takes place in 1978 and will supposedly be patterned after Friday The 13th and other camp slashers of that era would seem to carry even more promise on paper. Having it tangentially related to this but still existing independently as its own entity is probably a wise idea, even as all of them still share the same director. Fear Street's an intriguing concept, but also one that can get tired very quickly if each doesn't distinguish itself enough or gets all tangled in knots trying to sort out the mythology. If it can void that, 1994 has a promising enough start to believe Netflix might have another mini-franchise on its hands.          

The White Tiger

Director: Ramin Bahrani 
Starring: Adarsh Gourav, Rajkummar Rao, Priyanka Chopra Jonas, Mahesh Manjrekar, Vijay Maurya, Kamlesh Gill, Swaroop Sampat, Vedant Sinha, Nalneesh Neel
Running Time: 125 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

What stands out most in Ramin Bahrani's The White Tiger is how unpredictable it is, at least for those who haven't read Aravind Adiga's novel on which its Oscar-nominated screenplay is based. Supposedly, this doesn't stray too far from that, which is a relief since it seems to be one of those cases where there's little need to fix what isn't broken. Premiering on Netflix in that strange awards season grey area of late 2020-early 2021, it slipped through the cracks when it most definitely warranted mention among the past year's heaviest hitters. Comparisons to Slumdog Millionaire are unavoidable given the material, but Bahrani transcends it, in the process addressing the issues detractors of that Best Picture winner have long complained about. This is grittier, its script a a bit more sharply focused, and it's more likely to be mistaken for a true story than a feel-good fairy tale. There's something to be said for the approach 99 Homes director Bahrani takes, as it's constantly firing on all cylinders in terms of its writing, directing and performances as it reaches its exhilarating halfway mark. You get this feeling that almost literally anything could happen and it would make sense, which is a very good place for a story to occupy.

Working with the relatively straightforward premise of a young boy attempting to escape servitude in an Indian caste system, Bahrani takes us on many wild and unpredictable detours full of dark humor and excitement without losing grip on the central conceit. It all builds to a single moment we're sure will have to eventually arrive, even without an exact idea of the means he'll use to get there. It's one of those movies where you're just completely lost in the world and care about each and every character who inhabits it, regardless of the size or importance of their role. Every relationship is important because the script and performances make it so, providing a breakthrough of sorts for its relatively unknown lead, who must sell the most challenging of slow building transformations. It becomes less about how far the young man's willing to go to free himself from a seemingly inescapable trap than the painful sacrifices he'll need to make to do it.     

It's 2010 when Indian entrepreneur Balram Halwai (Adarsh Gourav) requests a meeting with the Chinese premier, in the process relaying his life story, which flashes back to when he was a young boy in Laxmangarh. A bright student, he was removed from school and forced to work in the village by his grandmother (Kamlesh Gill) when his father became unable to pay their landlord, known as "The Stork." (Mahesh Manjrekar) In the years following his father's sudden death from tuberculosis, a teen Balram harbors aspirations to become a chauffeur for the Stork's son, Ashtok (Rajkummar Rao) who recently returned from the U.S. with his American-raised wife, Pinky (Priyanka Chopra Jonas). 

After talking his way into the job as Ashtok's driver and sending money to his brother and grandmother back home, Balram takes a liking to his master and friendly wife despite the mistreatment he receives from the Stork and thuggish older son, Mukesh "The Mongoose" (Vijay Maurya). But when a horrific accident causes Balram to question everything he's believed up to that point, it serves as a harsh reminder he may never escape this future of indentured servitude. Now, he must decide whether he wants to take the risk of trying to break this vicious cycle and build a new life, despite all the potentially dangerous consequences such a move could carry.  

The film's biggest surprise is that its plot doesn't involve anything related to the drug or criminal  underworld , which for some reason seemed to be heavily implied by the tone and style of its trailer. But it's one of Bahrami's most impressive accomplishments that this does still feel like a Scarface-like ascent despite sharing very little else in common with that picture. But while illegal activities do take place, this situation is more dependent on class, wealth and politics than it is violent crime, with much  revolving around Balram using his intelligence and cunning to escape the poverty and servitude he and his family have been inherently sentenced to through this caste system. 

With a recurring voiceover from Balram that likens his predicament to being stuck in a chicken coop, you get the impression that he, like so many at his class level, could have easily resigned himself to that fate. The glimmer of hope he finds in working as a driver seems substantive, mainly because Gourav's performance as Balram is so full of smiling, wide-eyed optimism. The reverence he has for his master doesn't seem out of place, as Ashtok not only seems to be the most Americanized and progressive of Stork's family, but the smartest. He takes the young man under his wing, appearing to be genuinely interested in his future and treating him with a respect the rest of his family can't even bother faking. Not that they'd even want to try. 

All of this goes double for Ashtok's wife, Pinky, who Chopra plays as the ultimate voice of reason, and possibly Balram's biggest cheerleader, standing up for him at every turn simply because it's the right thing to do. And then it happens. A catastrophic event occurs that forces everyone's true colors to the surface, much to Balram's detriment, as he's reminded of the true extent of his expendability to this wealthy family. But if the young driver's lowly life status is already etched in stone, so is his master's, with the difference being that he's already surrendered to being his family's doormat. Unlike his wife, he can't rock the boat and won't even if it temporarily eases his conscience to talk about helping Balram. 

When push comes to shove, Ashtok won't risk his wealth or station to better his servant's life and risk  being poentially cut off by a system that's far bigger and more poweful than himself. In this sense, there's a lot more going on in Rajkummar Rao's deceptively complex performance than he'll likely get credit for.  American-born Pinky is far different, standing alone as the film's most morally unambiguous figure, unwaveringly consistent in fearlessly pushing back against her husband and in-laws' behavior. It isn't a huge role, but for a period, Chopra completely takes over and impresses in a big way, as their ethically intense marital dynamic finds Balram torn right down the middle. 

In what should be a definitive star-making performance, Adarsh Gourav proves to be a major find as Balram, with the actor's anonymity working to the story's favor much like it did for Dev Patel in Slumdog. But this role seems tougher, largely because it isn't just a rags to riches tale that ends triumphantly as audiences root on its protagonist the entire time. There's more nuance, as Balram undergoes some pretty serious changes as a result of his experience, and as his exposure to humanity's dark side of suffering and selfishness increases, so too does his anger and determination to rise above it. He lies, steals, cheats and a whole lot worse while still retaining the sheepish, underdog qualities we assumed would be immune to any kind of corruption when he was a little boy. Gourav subtly shines a light on all of his character's complexities as we contemplate the amount of blame that can really be placed on Balram for actions it seems he needs to take to survive. 

Was there even a choice? A better way? Those are the questions Bahrani leaves us to wrestle with, including whether Balram really has ended this vicious cyle, or merely just aided in its neverending continuation by becoming what he's hated most. Or maybe not. There are hints he may operate differently, with the knowledge he's gained potentially helping those beneath him. But if The White Tiger shows us anything it's that we shouldn't hold our breath, as his ongoing story further confirms the cold, harsh realization that many most aren't as fortunate enough as he was to make it out to the other side.   

Let Him Go

Director: Thomas Bezucha
Starring: Diane Lane, Kevin Costner, Lesley Manville, Will Brittain, Jeffrey Donovan, Kayli Carter, Booboo Stewart, Ryan Bruce, Adam Stafford, Bradley Stryker
Running Time: 114 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

In the Western thriller Let Him Go, Kevin Costner proves again just how invaluable a screen presence he can be in any type of role, but especially when handed a part like this, which is so firmly entrenched in his wheelhouse that it conjures thoughts of his best work from the '90's and beyond. While the ads and commercials previewed a mix between a feature length version of Yellowstone and a low-key actioner for older moviegoers (not that either would be the worst thing in the world), writer/director Thomas Bezucha goes a step further in delivering an adult drama that has a little extra, as the suspense  continues to build right up until its closing scenes.

With two great performances grounding this, it's definitely more of a slow burn, but an immensely satisfying one that pays off, finding Costner operating in the same  mileu that's served as a backdrop for some of his more memorable outings. Aside from the baseball diamond or golf course, there seems to be no on screen setting for which his skills are better suited than this, even if he isn't really the story's protagonist. With his character reluctantly dragged into a difficult, potentially lethal predicament by his determined wife, played by Diane Lane, you could argue she's the plot's true driving engine. It's a different dichotomy, as well as an opportunity to see the reunited Man of Steel co-stars carry a picture together as leads for the first time, benefitting from both their talents being utilized to maximum effect.

It's 1961 and retired Montana sheriff George Blackledge (Costner) and his wife Margaret (Lane) are living with their son James (Ryan Bruce) and wife Lorna (Kayli Carter), along with their newborn grandson, Jimmy. But when James dies suddenly in a horse accident and Lorna goes on to marry Donnie Weboy (Will Brittain) a few years later, Margaret's worst instincts about this new husband are confirmed when she spots him physically abusing Lorna and little Jimmy. Soon after, all three have suddenly disappeared from town, prompting Margaret to confide in George about what she saw before  both set out to find them. 

Unfortunately, the situation emerges as far more dangerous than expected, as Lorna and their grandson are essentially being held captive by Donnie's psychotic mother Blanche (Lesley Manville) and the Weboy clan, including a slimy and unpredictable Uncle Bill (Jeffrey Donovan), who leads them to the house, and potentially a trap. After a disastrous meeeting and new friendship starting to form with a mysterious Native American man named Peter (Booboo Stewart) George and Margaret now must determine how to rescue Lorna and Jimmy from this violently dysfunctional family, and live to tell about it. 

The relationship between George and Margaret is everything this story's foundation is built upon, with new dimensions to these two characters as spouses, ex-in-laws, and grandparents being revealed as the conflict escalates. As each carry their own set of responsibilities and problems, the first act is kind of a feeling out in terms of which lines they feel are permissable for to cross given that the widow of their deceased son is making awful choices for their grandson. Besides this being delicate moral territory, it's also complicated from a legal standpoint considering they'll never have the rights their ex-daughter-in -law does as the boy's mother. For this and other reasons he'll soon be talked out of, George is initially hesitant to get involved, at least until Margaret forces his hand by doing it herself. 

George and Margaret aren't exactly ever on the same page but Bezucha's script still depicts a couple unmistakenly supportive of each other, even when in massive disagreement. She never backs down or wavers in the slightest, barely flinching when confronting this monstrous family face-to-face. It's intriguing how she leads the charge while George, a lawman, takes the more passive approach, remaining superficially cool and collected. If we didn't know better, the assumption could be that he's apathetic, afraid or weary of the potential consequences should they get involved. But that's hardly it. 

Costner's so good at depicting a man who's simply checked out following his son's death and has already thrown in the towel, frequently referencing his age. George even looks sad and tired, as Margaret seethes at his opinion that they sit this out. As good as Costner is, Lane might have the tougher job, maintaining for Margaret the facade necessary to execute a plan to save the boy and his mom. You can sense her wanting to just jump out of her skin at the thought that this sadistic family has gotten anywhere near their grandson.

More than a couple of scenes between the Blackledges and Weboys are so tension-filled they're almost difficult to watch. After a methodical build to the initial dinner confrontation, everything goes completely sideways, as Lesley Manville's ferocious performance takes center stage and the grandparents realize they'll be in for a fight that's more than just a war of words. The tide turns in an  entirely new, violent direction, as we anxiously wait for when George will go into full Costner-mode, getting his John Wayne on and attempting to take on this family by himself. In a third act that's far from a disappointment, and complete with an outcome heavily in doubt, the question becomes whether he can. 

Mileage may vary in terms of sympathy for Lorna given her poor decisions, but there's really no measure for the atrocity of the the family holding her, determined to take posession of her son, regardless of the cost. And as it turns out, the Weboys may even have more protection to do it than originally feared despite George's law connections. Supplemented by an elgiac Michael Giacchino score and some great photography from Guy Godfree, Bezucha also has a good eye for action, as in one spectacular sequence where a character meets their demise so conclusively that it actually appears as if the gates of hell have physically opened to swallow them whole.      

Let Him Go is very much a throwback that recalls Costner's role in Clint Eastwood's criminally underappreciated A Perfect World from 1993. Despite him playing characters who straddle opposite sides of the law in each, there's a lot of that film in this, at least in terms of theme and atmosphere, with both centering around the protection of a child. Here, a story that starts traditionally enough pivots into something a bit more sinister, with Bezucha and his actors juggling a lot of balls in the air on its way to the finish. And it's the handling of that transition that puts this a cut above others in a genre that's slowly disappearing. If the quality of this project isn't a good enough case for its continuation, then maybe nothing is.

The Dig

Director: Simon Stone
Starring: Carey Mulligan, Ralph Fiennes, Lily James, Johnny Flynn, Ben Chaplin, Ken Stott, Archie Barnes, Monica Dolan
Running Time: 112 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

While watching Simon Stone's biographical British drama The Dig, it's not hard at all to believe it's based on a true story. It tells us as much in the opening minutes, and even while creative liberties are  taken, there's something about the delivery that feels particularly authentic, regardless of names and dates. Some may view that as a turn-off, or sign they're going to endure a stuffy period piece lacking the momentum or excitement to grab their attention, but it's nearly impossible not to get caught up in the characters' enthusiasm. Because they care so much about the title adventure and we ultimately grow invested in what happens to them, it succeeds, harkening back to a time where mid-range adult dramas were a big draw simply due to quality alone. 

With pitch perfect performances, memorable cinematography from Mike Eley and a criminally overlooked Stefan Gregory score, it's almost as if this was released in the wrong era. Despite having been nominated for four BAFTA's, it's still hard to argue that if this came out in the mid to late 90's it would be screening next to The English Patient, Secrets and Lies or Waking Ned Devine at the local arthouse multiplex. And it would probably be among the five Best Picture nominees, while likely racking up additional acting nods for its cast. 

Being that it's instead 2021, a prestige film like this now just basically drops on Netflix with very little promotion. And that's not entirely a criticism considering it may not have otherwise seen the light of day at all given the current film climate. Nor is this some passionate defense of The Dig as an unheralded masterpiece because, on the whole, it's just fine. But boy is it ever just about the most comfortable thing you could hope to land on when scrolling through your queue. It's like wrapping yourself in a warm blanket for almost two hours, without worry the filmmaker will suddenly start making wrongheaded decisions or take the material to places it can't or shouldn't go. Given the circumstances, that's an achievement.

On the eve of World War II in 1939, Suffolk, England landowner Edith Pretty (Carey Mulligan) hires local excavator and archaeologist Basil Brown (Ralph Fiennes) to dig at the burial mounds at her estate in Sutton Hoo after both agree on a fair wage. With his former employers attempting to get him to abandon the project for work they've deemed more important, Brown and his assistants soon unearth the remnants of a ship, with him suggesting it could be the possible burial site of someone of high class or great nobility.

As Brown forms a fatherly bond with Edith's imaginative young son Robert (Archie Barnes) and her cousin Rory (Johnny Flynn) joins the dig, noted archaeologist Charles Phillips (Ken Stott) crashes the site, determined to wrestle control from Edith and Brown. Taking over with his own team, including a relatively inexperienced Peggy Pigott (Lily James), a major discovery is made, forcing Edith to make some important choices, even as her health rapidly begins to decline.

Managing to walk the the extemely thin line of delivering exactly what's expected while having just enough surprises up its sleeve, Moira Buffini's screenplay (adapted from John Preston's 2007 novel), stays tightly focused on this escavation's historical implications, as well as the personal ones for those directly involved. After an initial feeling out process between Edith and Brown, an early accident at the site ends up framing their friendship and motivations from that point forward. After that, she quickly realizes he's the right man for this job, regardless of the lack of respect he receives from his archaeological peers, mostly due to ignorance and jealousy. 

Having lost her husband and trying to raise a son while struggling with an undisclosed condition, Edith turns to Brown as kind of a surrogate companion. With him ignoring letters from his own wife, May (Monica Dolan) and spending nearly all of his time with Edith and young Robert, we start wondering where this relationship's going. But the movie's smarter than that. May couldn't be any more supportive of the bond he's formed with them, despite her feeling he's overworked. It's a nice reversal of expectations while also managing to be completely logical. And it's through Edith and Brown's shared discovery that we realize just how damaged she is, with this undertaking clearly giving her the only glimmer of hope and personal sense of purpose she's had in years. It feels right that this is as far as it will go for them, especially considering the film already has a romantic sub-plot that works exceptionally well.

Following her Oscar-nominated turn in Promising Young Woman, it could have been jarring to see Mulligan back doing the period pieces her against type role in that film proved to be a welcome respite from. But it instead only serves to further showcase her versatility in tackling a part that was originally intended for an older actress, more closely matching the fifty-something Edith Pretty was at the time. Fortunately, none of that matters in relation to the narrative and few could have played this as well as Mulligan does. Edith's no pushover, and even as the pressure mounts and the actress effectively conveys a marked physical deterioration in this woman's appearance and demeanor, her loyalty to son Robert and Brown perservere, partially stemming perhaps from regrets over an abandoned archaelogical career. 

Similarly, Fiennes scenes opposite Mulligan and the boy really resonate, with Brown charging forward despite being undermined at every turn by beaurocrats wanting a piece of his discovery. Ken Stott plays the film's biggest blowhard, Phillips, whose lack of knowledge is matched only by his elitist snobbery and frequently incorrect deductions about the project. Lily James appears about an hour in but quickly makes up for lost time as Peggy, dragged along by Phillips and husband Stuart (Ben Chaplin) only because her small stature won't disrupt the site. It's the first of many microagressions she endures from the men on the project, most notably her husband. While having a star at James' level show up so deep into the story is a curious decision, she conveys everything we need to know about this nervous,  bespectacled woman in only a matter of minutes. 

Trapped in a loveless marriage, it's clear where things are going for Peggy as she falls for Edith's cosuin Rory and must battle all these insecurities in the face of this epiphany that she needs to leave her controlling, apathetic husband. With Peggy's feelings slowly bubbling under the surface until finally breaking through. when that moment comes, it's surprising just how emotionally resonant it is, largely due to James' invaluable performance. Seemingly, out of nowhere, she becomes as essential to the film's success as Mulligan's or Fiennes, with the sub-plot also achieving its goal of stirring something in Mulligan's character as she comes to terms with her own mortality. In Peggy, Edith finds a younger counterpart she can mentor and perhaps encourage to take the risks she failed to, with Buffini's script presenting much of that as subtext since the two actresses don't share more than a couple of scenes together. Stone's direction compliments that with restraint, gliding along effortlessly in not telling us how to think or feel and just letting these actors take us there.

It's a relief to know it's possible for screen adaptations to make adjustments a true story that make sense and have those decisions actually enhance the source material. They unquestionably shifted details around, changed characters and added events, but all of these choices were good ones that made for a far better experience than a straight re-telling would. Of course, the irony is that some may still find this too dry, but for fans of these kinds of humanistic dramas, it hits all the right notes.      

That The Dig could be watched repeatedly becomes that much more of a compliment when you realize it doesn't do anything necessarily special that sets it apart from past releases of a similar ilk. But from start to finish, it's just an absorbing story, solidly made and intelligently told. Sometimes that's enough, as certain unremarkable qualities that would cause it to blend in with the pack ten or twenty years ago only serve to make it stand out that much more today.

The Amusement Park

 
Director: George A. Romero
Starring: Lincoln Maazel, Harry Albacker, Phyllis Casterwiler, Pete Chovan, Sally Erwin
Running Time: 52 min.
Rating: Unrated

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

When legendary horror director George A. Romero was commissioned by the Lutheran Society in 1973 to make an educational film on elder abuse, they ended up getting more than they bargained for with his surrealistic nightmare, The Amusement Park. Shelved due to its disturbing content and perceived failure at accomplishing the mission at hand, this intended PSA has long been discussed in cinematic circles as one of those great lost treasures that probably wouldn't ever see the light of day. Think Jerry Lewis' The Day The Clown Cried, minus the baggage. Now, almost fifty years later, the George A. Romero Foundation (a nonprofit founded by his widow, Suzanne Desrocher-Romero) has restored the film, and after being purchased by Yellow Veil Pictures, the rediscovered effort has premiered on the Shudder streaming service. And it's really something else. 

While criticisms could certainly be leveled that's it's almost too ambitious to effectively function as a traditional PSA, but not large enough in scope to qualify as the masterpiece many expected, it still comes dangerously close, making for a fascinating experiment that's just as socially relevant today as then. Containing many tenets that would inform the director's later work, it's easy to see how it was shelved, even if having the message delivered in this manner leaves a traumatizing imprint that wouldn't be possible without Romero's distinctive approach. Depressingly cruel and punishing at only 52 minutes, the abbreviated length works to its favor, even as the entire scenario and lead performance will probably have you too shaken to check the time.

Besides functioning as a invaluable period piece, it takes public perceptions of amusement and theme parks and turns them on its head, reminding us just how truly unpleasant a trip to a bad one can be for anyone, regardless of age. Existing somewhere between reality and metaphorical fantasy, this park's amongst the more hellish you'll see, particularly for a protagonist with whom everyone will eventually relate. That's ultimately the film's most powerful statement, as this seemingly innocuous outing rapidly disintegrates into a fable of mortality, with a man staring down the barrel of a culture's complete disregard for his existence. 

A painfully true testament to how society degrades then disposes of its elderly population, Romero really does pile it on here, but rarely without purpose. Far from straightforward "horror" in any conventional sense, it's still every bit as as terrifying, with images and sequences that linger in the mind long after the credits roll. It's just a shame that a film capable of making such an impact instead collected dust for almost half century for being both of and ahead of its time.  

Shot at the now-defunct West View Park in West View Pennsylvania and bookended by Twilight Zone-like narration from its lead actor, the film focuses on an elderly gentleman (Lincoln Maazel) in a white suit who bares more than a passing resemblance to Colonel Sanders. If only he were treated with as much reverence as that iconic restaurateur upon his entry into an amusement park that's populated by visitors of all ages, but has a harsh pecking order. It opens with him entering a mysterious door into a white, sterile room, and despite warnings from someone he really should listen to, he remains enthusiastic and undeterred about his upcoming excursion into the park. 

All that optimism quickly fades when the man's faced with what initially seems like merely dismissive treatment, before it escalates into far greater forms of discrimination with each passing stop. Wading his way through this claustrophobic, overcrowded atmosphere, he's constantly marginalized along with others his age and even harassed, beaten, and verbally abused by younger parkgoers unsympathetic to his plight. Bruised, battered and limping his way to what could be his final destination, this ordinary day out reveals itself to be a true living hell.

Strung together as a continuous series of vignettes, the unnamed elderly man is confronted by various forms of hostility, but he's hardly the only one, as many of these situations break the barriers of ageism and enter territories of racism and classism as well. While the man's immediately segregated with his contemporaries, it's actually quite startling how many elderly citizens are in this park and that the amount of business they bring do little to temper how badly they're treated. 

What's even sadder is that a lot of these people aren't even THAT old. When one of the characters reveal they're in their sixties it's kind of a shock, mainly because these patrons (who, with the exception of Maazel, aren't professionally trained actors) all look much older than they likely are. It's yet another reminder of how much and little has changed since 1973, as advances in medicine and self-care have enabled us to look younger for longer, but caused the age at which one is considered "old" to drop precipitously. You could actually imagine a modern-day remake where a 35 year-old is kicked and dragged out the park for their advanced age as if it were a bizarro version of Logan's Run. 

These observations may carry false pretenses that this is an actual amusement park and what we see is to be taken literally rather than some nightmarish hallucination taking place within the man's mind. If it's not, the film still works as an all-encompassing metaphor, as many of its memorable sequences sharply illustrate. At a makeshift restaurant, he's given humiliatingly shoddy service while a wealthy, well-dressed cigar-smoking customer is waited on hand and foot by the staff. A policeman arrives to settle a bumper car fender bender and shames an elderly couple. And Romero even manages to deliver a scathing commentary on the health care system and nursing home facilities as the protagonist attempts to escape what looks to be an unfortunate inevitability. 

In what may be its most ambitious sequence, a fortune teller gives a young hippie couple glimpses into a future that looks mighty bleak, if not far scarier than the old man's. The flashforward is a chilling distillation of Romero's intentions, as well as the perfect encapsulation of the film's cruelest twist; that the tormentors don't have much further to go before they find themselves on the receiving end of the ignorance they've willingly participated in.

As the anonymous elderly gentleman is circled like vultures by a biker gang and even literally has a book closed on him during his sole moment of human acceptance, it's clear we're witnessing the passage of time right before our eyes. Though this was filmed only a few years later, it's hard not to be reminded of my favorite pictures of the era, Frank Perry's The Swimmer, when considering the trajectory Romero puts this character on. While that dealt with aging, the passing of time and human cruelty by way of a journey through the neighborhood's pools by its far more flawed and unsympathetic lead, this substitutes an amusement park as a setting for events that could be borne from reality, hallucinations or possibly death. 

Like that film, there's also a mental and physical deterioration that occurs with each new interaction, as if the man's entire lifespan has been compressed into a single day. By its end, he's a shell of himself, heading back to the white waiting room from which he came to repeat the process again, and like so many in the park, failing either out of fear or denial, to heed the advice of those who came before. It may be the irony of all ironies that actor Lincoln Maazel (who would appear again in Romero's 1978 thriller, Martin) ended up passing away in 2009 at the age of 106, having still not lived long enough to see his shattering performance exposed to the masses and given the credit it deserves. 

The film's satirically sarcastic tagline, "I'll see you in the park, someday." couldn't be more fitting in reflecting the obliviousness of the movie's antagonists, behaving without a care in the world that their time is coming. Less a brutal critique of ageism than a damning indictment of the lack of basic human decency, Romero never shied away from calling out the shallowness of American materialism, as he'd later demonstrate in Dawn of the Dead. But there's something almost entirely darker and sadder going on here in watching this defeated, ostracized man entirely shut out by those who can only hope they're someday granted the grace and compassion they fail to offer him. It's a true to life terror resonating more now than perhaps it ever could back then. And in that sense, Romero didn't have any idea just how right he'd eventually be.