X

 

Director: Ti West
Starring: Mia Goth, Jenna Ortega, Brittany Snow, Scott Mescudi, Martin Henderson, Owen Campbell, Stephen Ure, James Gaylyn
Running Time: 106 min.
Rating: R

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)  

At first glance, it may not be obviously apparent just how straightforward a slasher Ti West's X is, as he does an admirable job making it play like some kind of meta genre deconstruction and throwback ode to 70's horror. You'd be hard pressed to find a recent film more enamored with the original Texas Chain Saw Massacre, at least in terms of plot and setting. And that's where the similarities end. Despite looking great and carrying a specific authenticity steeped in the era, when it ends you can't help but shrug. Utilizing everything short of John Larroquette's opening narration to pay homage to TCM, you instead realize after a promising start this comes closer to matching the quality of its derided sequels and prequels than the genuine article. 

The film's saving grace is a really interesting idea that isn't mined enough, carried by a star-making performance that's probably worth the admission price alone, Moving at a glacial pace, it lacks suspense, isn't exactly "scary" and leads where you'd expect. Part of the problem might be the amount of time spent on the making of the intentionally bad pornographic movie within a movie, with the drawn out scenes slowly draining the life out of the actual story. And yet it's still easy to see why West would feel compelled to craft a prequel centered around its best character, especially considering the astonishing talent of his lead actress. Far from unwatchable or poorly made, X is a ride, albeit a more disappointingly shallow one than expected given its promising premise.

It's 1979 and aspiring pornographic actress Maxine Minx (Mia Goth) joins her producer boyfriend Wayne (Martin Henderson), actors Bobby-Lynne (Brittany Snow) and Jackson Hole (Scott "Kid Cudi" Mescudi), and director RJ (Owen Campbell) with girlfriend Lorraine (Jenna Ortega) for a road trip to Texas to shoot their adult film, The Farmer's Daughters. Upon arriving at the guest house Wayne negotiated to rent from the farm's elderly owners Howard (Stephen Ure) and Pearl (Goth), the crew is met with immediate hostility and skepticism by the married couple. And that's even before they find out what they're filming in there. 

As RJ's lofty ambitions to direct an important work of cinematic art are derailed by tensions within the cast, Pearl silently stalks Maxine, becoming increasingly jealous and sexually aroused by the actress's  youth and vitality. Those feelings soon extend to everyone else, with this old, frail woman going on an unhinged rampage to extract revenge on those she thinks are living lives that should still be hers. Tragedy and bloodshed ensues, as it becomes a battle of wills to see who will be able to make it out of this farm house alive. 

West gets more than a few things right, at least making it partially understandable how this has garnered acclaim comparable to some of A24's previous horror outings, most of which are superior. If nothing else, it looks and feels like the late 1970's, with a strong soundtrack, wardrobe and production choices that believably invoke the mood of the period. And the opening half hour successfully introduces all the characters while setting up an intriguing if overly familiar scenario that has you eagerly anticipating what follows. 

The deliberate pacing hints that maybe West has taken a page out of the original TCM playbook by slowly building suspense until the actual carnage. But at some point the script just loses its way, becoming so engulfed in the filming of this porno that the narrative hits a wall and never quite recovers. You'd figure if nothing else worked, at least the fictitious adult film scenes would grab attention, but they're actually kind of a bore until a conflict within the ranks splinters everyone off in different directions and the massacre starts. 

An elderly woman going on a killing rampage to recapture her glory days from a much younger generation is a different concept ripe for further exploration. The framework's also there to invoke genuine empathy, but before you know it we've descended into a series of graphic kills played for the kind of self referential visual gags found in any contemporary slasher, only better filmed. But what's most frustrating is how in between that West pauses for these meditative moments and beautiful shots, suggesting a complexity that lurks beneath the story's surface, struggling to escape.

Mia Goth's a revelation as both the free-spirted, coke-snorting Maxine and murderous Pearl, completely unrecognizable under heavy prosthetics as the latter, with every movement and mannerism leaving no doubt we're watching a woman nearing her end, desperately clinging to a past that can't again be revisited, even vicariously through Maxine. West just eventually turns her into a killing machine, but Goth brings humanity to a handful of scenes where she's afforded that opportunity. As Maxine, she's equally effective, carrying this story on her back as an aspiring starlet marching to the beat of her own drum, conveying this odd mix of strength, vulnerability and ethereal quirkiness that's already earned the actress comparisons to the great Shelley Duvall. That feels accurate, as does a future filled with roles even better than this.

Scream's Jenna Ortega extends her horror streak as the shy, introspective Lorraine, who eventually takes steps steps to bust out of her churchgoing shell, much to boyfriend RJ's displeasure. Brittany Snow is saddled with silliness, Kid Cudi does well with a fairly underwritten part, and Henderson and Campbell fulfill what's required of them as the somewhat sleazy older producer boyfriend and film geek director. But of everyone, it's Goth's magnetic screen presence that stands out the most.

There is a clever ending twist and the fountain of youth themes West plays with do land, at least up until a last act that doesn't really match the tone of anything that preceded it. As strange as it seems, the best news to come out of this is its prequel Pearl should likely give Goth her own showcase to fill in the character's blanks, possibly making this effort more tolerable on a rewatch. But for now, labeling X an unpleasant, messy experience will have to be the best backhanded compliment it'll get.                                                  

Halloween Ends

Director: David Gordon Green
Starring: Jamie Lee Curtis, Andi Matichak, Rohan Campbell, Will Patton, Kyle Richards, James Jude Courtney, Nick Castle, Jesse C. Boyd, Joanne Baron, Rick Moose, Michael O' Leary, Keraun Harris, Jaxon Goldberg
Running Time: 111 min.
Rating: R  

 **The Following Review Contains Major Plot Spoilers For 'Halloween Ends' **

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

For decades, each new Halloween film has generally followed the same template as those that preceded it. What this entails is some variation on the plot of Michael Myers coming home to unleash violence and terror on Haddonfield. That's not to say it hasn't been fun, but Halloween Ends, the third and final chapter of David Gordon Green's reinterpretation of the franchise does something only Halloween III: Season of the Witch and Rob Zombie's Halloween II have attempted. It actually breaks from the formula in a major way, going nearly an hour without showing The Shape at all, telling a self-contained story in which other characters are are given room to breathe and develop, building for the moment he does eventually show up.

In lifting the narrative weight that's dragged down previous installments, we're permitted to hang in Haddonfield and watch people interact without constantly counting down the minutes until you know who shows up. With last year's Halloween Kills pushing the envelope as far as possible in terms of Myers surviving, Green goes in the entirely opposite direction, delivering on the quieter, more character focused aspect many expected him to bring in 2018. While that was a well made quasi-sequel doubling as a soft remake, it did earn some comparisons to Star Wars: The Force Awakens, reminding us of the stringent requirements that often accompany a major IP like this.

This is the real reboot, employing a much maligned tactic that made horror fans' blood boil the few times we've seen it in Friday The 13th and A Nightmare on Elm Street sequels. Even Halloween has dabbled in it before (who can forget the cult of Thorn?) But it's actually done well here, playing out in a fresh, exciting way that makes it feel like uncharted territory. As a sidelined Myers is finally given the "time out" he's needed after years of misuse and overexposure, a compelling new character infected with similar urges rises up to take his place. Even while not physically present, Myers' impact and legacy is felt, as the script digs further into Haddonfield's ongoing fear and paranoia while touching on issues related to "cancel culture." So if the big draw was intended to be Laurie facing Michael for the last time, it speaks volumes that it's taken this long to mention that.       

It's Halloween night 2019 and Corey Cunningham (Rohan Campbell) is babysitting a young boy named Jeremy (Jaxon Goldenberg), who pulls a prank that ends in a horrifying accident, with the boy dead and Corey accused but eventually acquitted for unintentionally killing him. Three years later, he's a public pariah working at his stepfather's salvage yard while Laurie Strode's (Jamie Lee Curtis) writing her memoir while living with granddaughter Allyson (Andy Matichak) in a new house, both still reeling from Michael Myers' (James Jude Courtney) last rampage. 

When Corey ends up cutting himself in a confrontation with some high school bullies, Laurie takes him to the hospital where he connects with Allyson, who's working as a nurse. They grow closer and begin dating, but something's off, and Laurie's initial support for their relationship gives way to skepticism. Still being taunted and blamed for Myers' reign of terror, she notices a change coming over the increasingly unpredictable Corey. Now with Allyson slipping away and the community rallying against her grandmother, Michael lurks in the sewers and shadows, making a new friend who plans on following his blueprint for destruction.

Starting the film with a tragic event that vaguely recalls the original Myers murder is shocking, immediately setting this apart from other sequels and opening the floodgates for a number of questions. Who is Corey Cunningham? Why are we watching him? While it's apparent early that the absent Michael isn't directly a part of Corey's personal trauma, he's still very much a part of Laurie and Allyson's, while continuing to hold Haddonfield's residents in paralyzing fear. And explored more concisely here than in the previous film, that fear only begets additional fear and violence. As for the opening sequence, it stands out not just for what happens, but the grisly, darkly comedic tone with which it unfolds. 

With a few notable exceptions, Green generally holds back on the winks, nods and Easter eggs that permeated his first two films, but he gets a good one out of the way early with the Halloween III style title credits, a first of many clever departures and a nod to the only movie containing less Michael. Surprises continue when we still don't go into any Myers follow-up, instead tracking Corey as he faces the harsh hostility and abuse from frothing townsfolk, most of whom have now gone full scumbag after the lack of resolution and justice from four years ago.

When Corey first comes face-to-face with a concerned, empathetic Laurie, the dots begin connecting, even if what comes next remains fairly unpredictable, a rare feat for this franchise. If everyone except Officer Hawkins (Will Patton) hates and blames Laurie, Haddonfield finds it even easier to despise someone they consider a "child killer." And the best thing about Rohan Campbell's performance is that along with the goofy charm, he conveys an awkward instability right from his initial appearance that remains consistent throughout, only adding layers of complexity to what later occurs. 

Green, Danny McBride, Paul Brad Logan and Chris Bernier's script actually takes its time putting Corey through the wringer before meeting his match in Allyson, who's a far cry from the underdeveloped, supporting character Andy Matichak previously made the most of. Now she's essentially a full-blown lead in the vein of Curtis in the original, but under completely different circumstances. Wrestling with the pain and judgment that's accompanied their respective tragedies, Allyson and Corey attract immediately, but believably, as the writers spend nearly an hour fleshing out this relationship, knowing just how much more it will mean when it implodes. 

On paper, none of this should work, but there's just something so rewarding about a smartly conceived Halloween movie that actually develops its characters while simultaneously letting us observe the toxic behavior that's infested this community. Is it entirely due to Myers? The true nature of evil is a scintillating question the franchise has frequently hung its hat on without ever exploring too deeply. This is the closest it's come, asking whether the propensity for Corey to follow in Michael's footsteps was always there or this was a monster was created by the citizens of Haddonfield.

The film goes from strangely good to great during an incredibly shot party sequence at Lindsey Wallace's (Kyle Richards) bar when Allyson helps Corey put his guard and inhibitions down, only to experience more abuse and humiliation for it. Through Myers he'll get his revenge, but that party marks the last time Corey's literal and metaphorical mask comes off. And it's notable that instead of going for the easy shout-out with a clown mask, Green opts for the creepy scarecrow, which undeniably works just as well, if not better.

Damaged after losing both parents, it makes sense Allyson's empathy for Corey only increases the further he sinks into Myers' abyss. Knowing what it's like to be on the outside looking in, her tension with Laurie grows as Corey's rage intensifies. It's an intriguing dynamic for Curtis this time around, leading to Laurie's memorable verbal confrontation with him in the "new Myers house," the site of Corey's life-altering trauma. The "psycho" meets the "freak show" as Laurie lays down the law, serving as a warm-up for when she gets her badass on again later. But until then it's Corey in the driver's seat, going on a streak of revenge kills that are more creatively suspenseful than gory, with the crazy death of that radio DJ being an exception that harkens back to the over-the-top glory days of the franchise. 

Other than a new but sparser than usual John Carpenter musical score, his fingerprints aren't exactly all over the picture this time, though the overall influence is still definitely there. The plot is very singularly focused with far fewer characters than the more overstuffed Halloween Kills so you're either on board with Green's very specific vision or not. Horror fans who aren't will probably be ripping out their hair in frustration, but this narrower focus allows so much development for Corey and Allyson, introducing a sorely needed human element that's gone missing in these movies for years.

As thrilling as it is seeing a Halloween entry not only survive, but outright thrive without Myers, we know at some point he'll become more involved, regardless of his physical deterioration. Played again by James Jude Courtney, Michael first appears a shell of his former self, old, injured and worn out enough that he needs help shaking off the rust. There's this weird tranference going on with Michael and Corey that the writers are smart enough not to overexplain since it's pretty clear why the latter is particularly susceptible. 

Myers has always registered best when treated like Jaws, with his absence making the suspense and terror slowly simmer. Much of that has been abandoned by lackluster entries, but this does it right, with Michael getting a second wind thanks to his alliance with Corey. Working together and murdering in tandem in ways that vaguely recalls Scream, but with more fleshed out psychological motivations, Corey will find out that no one stays friends with Michael for long. 

If the film has a flaw, it's that it cuts bait on Corey a little too early, or even at all, since it's hard to imagine better groundwork ever being laid for Myers' logical successor, especially given how this ends for the Shape. Campbell and Matichak are so good it legitimately feels like a loss that they're not continuing in these roles, but with this being Blumhouse's last entry and closure being paramount, we're left wondering what could have been. And that's okay.  

The trilogy-ending Strode vs. Myers fight is basically a contractual obligation at this point. It's the finale fans want and their kitchen brawl more than gets the job done, as does the solemn Haddonfield funeral procession and subsequent public shredding. But none of that will be what's most remembered. It's everything else that breaks the mold, especially the depiction of a relationship between two believably written new characters we actually care about, anchored by a pair of performances that might only be topped by Curtis' in the original. 

You can't claim Green's effort just blends in with the rest or doesn't earn its divisive reaction by making bold choices. For all the reshoots, delays and bad early buzz, at the end of the day he stitched together a really special final chapter that acknowledges the past and uses it to create something different. Consider it a litmus test, separating fans who follow the series for Michael from those who watch for what he represents, as if Carpenter's intention of an anthology centered around the holiday has finally been fulfilled. But like Season of the Witch, the only problem is the word "Halloween" in its title, along with all the baggage and expectations that brings.You can only imagine this growing in stature once we inevitably groan at the next reboot's promise to go "back to basics," without truly grasping what that means. There's nothing basic about Halloween Ends, and it's all the better for it.           

Hocus Pocus 2

Director: Anne Fletcher
Starring: Bette Midler, Sarah Jessica Parker, Kathy Najimy, Sam Richardson, Doug Jones, Whitney Peak, Belissa Escobedo, Lilia Buckingham, Tony Hale, Hannah Waddingham, Taylor Paige Henderson, Juju Brener, Nina Kitchen, Froylan Gutierrez
Running Time: 103 min.
Rating: PG 

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Disney's eagerly anticipated nostalgia fix, Hocus Pocus 2, comes out on the higher end of audience expectations, successfully picking up where the '93 original left off. Those who loved it will probably enjoy this, unless the first film stands as such an impeachable childhood classic for fans that rose-colored glasses prevent them from embracing any sequel. And that's not a criticism since everyone has those favorite titles on which their formative movie experiences and memories were built. Having only seen the original a few years ago, this isn't that for me,  but as far as sequels go, it's a silly, inoffensive no-brainer, with the biggest surprise being that it took this long. So even if some viewers find it doesn't match their lofty expectations, many others are likely to still be delighted with what director Anne Fletcher cooks up. 

It turns out the screenplay does contain some inspired ideas that move the story forward while playing proper respect to a beloved property. The fun, cheeky tone remains, as the returning leads don't miss a beat slipping back into their familiar roles nearly thirty years later. While it's kind of perplexing more wasn't done to reunite the entire supporting cast, it is a new entry and the three actresses that matter most are back. And they do a good enough job establishing the new characters by effectively just throwing them into the mix, showing rather than telling. Still, there's no mistaking who this is all really about, as it should be.  

It's 1653 when a young Winifred Sanderson (Taylor Paige Henderson) is banished from Salem by Reverend Traske (Tony Hale), escaping into the woods with sisters Mary (Nina Kitchen) and Sarah (Juju Brenner). While there, they meet the Mother Witch (Hannah Waddingham), who gives Winnie a magic book, teaching them to kill other children to retain their youthfulness, but warning against ever casting the dreaded Magicae Maxima spell, which could carry disastrous consequences.

Flash forward to 2022 and Salem teens Becca (Whitney Peak) and Izzy (Belissa Escobedo) turn down a Halloween party invitation from estranged friend Cassie Traske (Lilia Buckingham), opting instead to celebrate on their own. After a stop at Gilbert's (Sam Richardson) magic shop, they leave with a Black Flame Candle, unintentionally resurrecting the Sanderson sisters, back after twenty nine years to wreck havoc on Salem. This time, Winnie (Bette Midler), Sarah (Sarah Jessica Parker) and Mary (Kathy Najimy) set their sights on Mayor Traske and Cassie, planing to cast that forbidden spell to take revenge for their mistreatment. Now it's up to the three high schoolers to stop them before it's too late.

There's a seamlessness to the story that's very much in the vein of the original, almost to a fault, as if a committee gathered and cherry-picked all the key elements from the last film and updated them. Of course, this time we all know the kind of material they're dealing with so there's a certain sense of discovery missing that can't be completely replicated. It's also not actually shot in Salem this time around, giving the surroundings a slightly different feel that's reminiscent of those popular 2000's Disney Channel movies, which isn't terrible considering the original was essentially a precursor to those anyway. And clocking in a few minutes longer, it does seem slightly less compact than its predecessor, which flowed a little better.  

At the time, no one knew the first movie would be talked about and quoted decades later, only gaining popularity through the years with subsequent viewings. But realizing this sequel is more of a calculatedly self-aware attempt at recapturing that magic makes everything go down easier. Not that there isn't already plenty to enjoy, as Midler, Parker and Najimy remain as delightfully over-the-top and campy as possible as the Sandersons. Midler's role as the singing, self-absorbed Winnie is arguably iconic at this point, Parker's great as the flaky, airheaded Sarah, and Najimy again nails it as comedic suck-up Mary. An impromptu Walgreens outing and a Halloween costume contest rank as the most entertaining sequences, enabling the sisters to really lean into all the hijinx. 

The supporting cast is gamely along for the ride, with Whitney Peak making Becca a sympathetic protagonist and her friendship with Escobedo's quirky Izzy and Buckingham's newly popular Cassie organically complimenting the bond between the Sandersons. And while Tony Hale and Sam Richardson provide some laughs along with a returning Doug Jones as zombie Billy Butcherson, Taylor Henderson shines brightest as young Winnie. In the opening sequence she so uncannily channels a junior Bette Midler that you actually start hoping that this film will be entirely focused on her, or at least function as an extended preview for one that would.  

Some may not like the idea that the wicked sisters have supposedly been "softened," to an extent, but this is Disney, and while their characters have sometimes gone in surprising directions for a family release, it would be silly to claim we were ever expected to take them too seriously as "villains." They're goofy, comedic antagonists with a mean streak whose worst antics usually resulted in laughs. The sequel exists because fans love the Sandersons so its ending should best be viewed as the filmmakers finally acknowledging this fact, informally granting us permission to root for them.

Hocus Pocus 2 kind of neatly wrap things up in a bow with more of a message than the original, but even that feels more earned than cheap given what came before. The opening prologue is sure to be cited as one of the film's bigger highlights, and it is, though the rest isn't too bad either, making this a worthwhile follow-up for the diehards without excluding anyone else from the fun. For a sequel that may have taken a while to arrive, it's at least smart enough to stay clear of unnecessarily trying to fix what wasn't broken.                 

Blonde

Director: Andrew Dominik
Starring: Ana de Armas, Adrien Brody, Bobby Cannavale, Xavier Samuel, Julianne Nicholson, Evan Williams, Toby Huss, David Warshofsky, Caspar Phillipson, Dan Butler, Lily Fisher, Sara Paxton, Rebecca Wisocky, Tygh Runyan, Scoot McNairy
Running Time: 166 min.
Rating: NC-17

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)  

Before you even get to the rape, physical abuse and talking fetuses, writer/director Andrew Dominik's pulverizing fictional biography of Marilyn Monroe, Blonde, starts at the very beginning. With Norma Jeane's mentally ill mother driving straight into a raging fire with her terrified daughter in the front seat. It may as well be a metaphor for the vitriol that awaited Dominik upon the release of Netflix's NC-17 adaptation of Joyce Carol Oates' 2000 novel, which is less an account of Monroe's life than speculative fantasy assembled from fractured puzzle pieces of it. None of those aforementioned events occurred as presented, whatever truth existing in them sensationalized and reshaped to facilitate Dominik's descent into the star's troubled psyche. 

Far from a straightforward biopic that could share a double bill with Baz Luhrmann's Elvis, it's closer to a surrealistic Lynchian nightmare many have already categorized as a cross between some lost Marilyn snuff film and The Last Temptation of Christ. She's victimized throughout, and though it's not based on historical fact, the specificity of events and unflinching manner in which her suffering's presented could lead some to falsely assume it was. Even if it doesn't endure as the definitive word on the star, she'll always be associated with it, shining the spotlight on a filmmaker's moral responsibility when tackling a real person's life.   

No one can watch this and say it isn't well made or that Ana de Armas doesn't give the performance of her career, empowering Marilyn with a depth and complexity everyone always suspected she had, even when Dominik seems to be going in an entirely different direction. But more than any other examination of the star, we really get inside her head, heavily exploring that marker separating Norma Jeane from her manufactured Hollywood alter ago. When the cameras aren't rolling, Monroe's still the wide-eyed, innocent we see at the film's start, playing make believe as a blonde bombshell. Her helpless upbringing required this survival mechanism, a detail Dominik drills into us for almost 3 hours with scenarios that reflect a sort of truth that's aggressively discomforting

Opening as she turns seven years old in 1933, a young Norma Jeane Mortenson (Lily Fisher) is shown a framed picture of a man her mentally unstable mom Gladys (Julianne Nicholson) claims is her father, a big shot Hollywood mogul. But when the police halt Glady's delusional plans to bring Norma Jeane up to see him in the middle of a fire, she snaps, leading to a violent breakdown that sends Gladys to a mental hospital and her daughter to an orphanage. Norma Jeane reemerges in the 1940's as pinup girl "Marilyn Monroe," aspiring to break into acting despite not being seen for anything other than her looks. 

After being raped by a studio president referred to as Mr. Z (David Warshofsky), Marilyn soon turns all the inner pain and childhood trauma toward acting, and as her film career ascends, she becomes romantically entangled with Hollywood offspring Cass Chaplin (Xavier Samuel) and Eddy Robinson Jr. (Evan Williams). Unsuccessful marriages to an ex-athlete (Bobby Cannavale) and a playwright (Adrien Brody) leave her emotionally shattered, while she's later dehumanized by an eventual affair with the The President (Caspar Phillipson). Through this, Marilyn still clings to the hope of meeting her mythical, estranged father, an increasingly unlikely prospect amidst the abuse, humiliation and mistreatment she endures from nearly every man who enters her doomed life.  

Since the entire film revolves around fictional events people already believed could be true, seeing it depicted on screen runs the risk of further substantiating them. The fact that the actual names of some major players weren't used (likely for legal reasons) does speak to a certain double standard, reinforcing the idea that's she's still being exploited long after her death. But as unfair as it may seem, the creative license Dominik takes isn't far off from what was seen in something like The Social Network, with the only difference being that the subject here is deceased and and has a history of being dragged through the mud by the media.

Dominik isn't making attempts to alter any preconceived notions, instead taking a fever dream approach to the material that was bound to polarize. In certain instances, his timing couldn't have been worse given the current climate, especially those scenes involving abortion and miscarriage. But while he invites these controversies with his "anti-biopic," little of that has any relevance to the film's actual quality, as it's beautifully made and compulsively watchable. Dominik's no stranger to celebrity deconstruction, having already helmed The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, a movie as long as its title. This is even longer, and even while flirting with repetitiveness, it's edited well enough not to feel at all like a slog.

None of that makes this any easier to watch, not that it's intended to be. It leans further into the idea of men viewing Marilyn as a sex object than was even anticipated, no matter how much trauma and genuine emotion she poured into her craft. The moments where she's portrayed as a student of the game with unlimited intellectual capacity are fleeting since everyone saw "Marilyn Monroe" instead. The framing device involving her estranged, Clark Gable lookalike father is another fabrication, but it's Blonde's best, intrinsically tied to a stuffed animal that emerges as the film's answer to Citizen Kane's "Rosebud." And for anyone who didn't get the memo she has daddy issues, her incessantly calling all her lovers "daddy" should quickly clear that up. 

Alternating between monochrome and color and shifting aspect ratios, cinematographer Chayse Irvin gives the film a stylized look that compellingly reflects the dueling identities of its subject, with Nick Cave and Warren Ellis' hypnotic score matching that disorientation. An early Marilyn audition scene is enthralling to watch, before turning painfully uncomfortable and hopeless when we see the male studio executives' reaction to it, reaffirming that even behind her back she's enduring some form of abuse. Dominik also comes up with some unnerving visual tricks that further convey Marilyn's  objectified existence, with ogling, cackling, distorted faces leering her down, horrifyingly transforming the Some Like it Hot premiere into a lost Twilight Zone episode.

Dominik covers a lot of ground with Marilyn's relationships and marriages, while impressively needing only a few scenes to convey how they develop and quickly end. She probably seems "happiest" and least burdened with the celebrity twins, at least before the tidal wave of fame comes crushing down. If first husband DiMaggio (well played by Cannavale), reveals himself to be a controlling, abusive brute, Arthur Miller's an anomaly for being the only kind male figure in Marilyn's life who outwardly recognizes her humanity. Brody's performance as the hyper intellectual Miller is subtly exceptional and there's something special about this section that even the film's most vehement opponents would admit is its high point. Unfortunately, by the time Marilyn weds him, she's already drowning in prescription pills and alcohol, prone to wild mood swings. 

While the talking CGI fetus has been heavily criticized for pedaling in tasteless shock value, the circumstances and fallout surrounding Marilyn's decision to abort aren't brushed under the rug and it's highlighted as a traumatic, life-altering event she understandably can't move beyond. The plot would be offensive only if the screenplay relegated it to an afterthought, even as it's easy to recognize none of this is a pleasant sit. Equally unpleasant is Marilyn's affair with JFK, here is encapsulated in a one night rape when she's literally dragged to the President's suite like a slab of meat by Secret Service. 

On content alone, this doesn't deserve an NC-17 (it's easy to name check numerous film titles with more nudity, sex, violence and language), but you needn't look further than the JFK scene to understand why. It's just a bridge too far for the MPAA, whose members probably scoff at consensual sex scenes, much less a non-consensual one as discomforting and disturbing as this. But few directors would have the guts to even fictionally depict the 35th President as a rapist, dispelling accusations that the movie is some kind of Marilyn hit job. Still, it's not hard to believe the rating designation is at least partially responsible for throwing gasoline on the furor that was already erupting over the picture.

Under different circumstances, Ana de Armas would be a strong Best Actress contender, and still could be. Strangely enough, it's the Marilyn performance everyone's always wanted, just not in the film we envisioned it would occur. It's hardly noteworthy when her Cuban accent occasionally slips through, but amazing how she simultaneously captures the breathy, seductive qualities of Marilyn and the insecurity and pain tormenting Norma Jeane, sometimes within a single scene. And it's also surprising how much de Armas does physically resemble her in certain iconic Monroe moments where you nearly have to do a double take. As disturbed mother, Gladys, Julianne Nicholson is haunting, going on an absolute tear in the film's opening section, then again later when her character returns in a far different capacity. 

A more extreme escalation of the horror and isolation of last year's Spencer than a snapshot along the lines of My Week With Marilyn, Dominik vaguely operates within the guardrails of an acceptable chronological timeline while incorporating the sensationalized events of Oates' novel. The biggest bone of contention will be that Marilyn had a troubled life, just not this troubled, and there are aspects to her that go ignored. But the film's an adaptation so any argument regarding its truthfulness should probably be settled in an actual court rather than one of public opinion. It succeeds in painting a nightmarish, hypnotizing portrait of the star's hellish existence from her own perspective, leaving no doubt how far this intends to go in its final, unrelenting minutes. 

If all Marilyn wanted was to be was respected for her intellect and acting skills, it's cruelly ironic that this film's release may have just permanently derailed that, no matter how impressive the filmmaking. There seems to be a disconnect amongst viewers regarding what they felt the goals should have been going in, as this is undeniably difficult and definitely not for everyone. But a safer, more grounded approach that's superficially respectful to Marilyn's memory could have easily resulted in the kind of safe biopic everyone complains about anyway. Blonde is far less forgettable, taking the gloves off and in the process starting a controversial conversation about how celebrities are perceived and consumed.     

The Munsters (2022)

Director: Rob Zombie
Starring: Jeff Daniel Phillips, Sheri Moon Zombie, Daniel Roebuck, Richard Brake, Sylvester McCoy, Jorge Garcia, Catherine Schell, Cassandra Peterson, Dee Wallace, Tomas Boykin, Butch Patrick  
Running Time: 110 min.
Rating: PG

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

One thing you can say for Rob Zombie's remake of The Munsters is that it's unironically sincere, leaving large traces of his affection for the classic 60's sitcom in just about every frame. Supposedly, Zombie wanted to go even further and film this in black and white until the powers that be intervened and nixed that. And it's a relief they did since its greatest attribute is the candy colored, live-action cartoon world brought to vivid life through the production design, costuming and cinematography. Despite a modest budget, it looks great and the tone feels just right, to the point that it's hard not to  admire his attempt, outside of the extent to which you think it works. 

Zombie will always have his detractors, but for better or worse, this completely feels like the movie he wanted to make for himself and diehards fans of the original. As someone who always thought it would be fascinating to see someone attempt a modern reboot of the campy 60's Batman series, this seems like the closest we'll get to discovering how that would play out. He doesn't change much, as all the corny humor, dad jokes and visual gags that went over huge in that decade are updated with a new cast whose looks and performances are directly patterned after their predecessors.

In Transylvania, mad scientist Dr. Henry Augustus Wolfgang (Richard Brake) and his hunchbacked henchman Floop (Jorge Garcia) are robbing graves for body parts to build his newest Frankenstein-like creation. But when Floop accidentally steals the head of a witless comedian instead of his brilliant astrophysicist brother, Wolfgang's stuck with a goofy monstrosity Floop names "Herman Munster" (Jeff Daniel Phillips). But for 150 year-old, single vampire, Lily (Sheri Moon Zombie), it's love at first sight when she catches Herman performing a stand-up routine on morning TV. 

Lilly's father, The Count (Daniel Roebuck) is far less impressed with this giant, bumbling oaf, but has even bigger problems, as vengeful ex-wife Zoya (Catherine Schell) has been using his werewolf son Lester (Tomas Boykin) in a scheme to get him to sign over the castle to her. Much to The Count's disdain, Herman and Lily begin dating and grow closer, but Herman's gullibility soon puts the family in financial jeopardy, pushing them into a modern suburban world they may not yet be ready for. 

Building the plot around an origin story that ends exactly where the original series begins allows Zombieto incorporate familiar elements of the sitcom, while simultaneously inserting the family into new situations that exploit The Munsters' fish-out-of-water premise. It's an admittedly clever angle to approach this from, but we knew going in just how much of it would ride on the performances and comedic set pieces. Considering Zombie's the last name you'd associate with PG comedy, he's surprisingly adept at it, managing to keep it as light and family friendly, even while the material does fit into his macabre wheelhouse. 

Zombie regular Jeff Daniel Phillips' version of Herman is a little whinier and more petulant than Fred Gwynne's, and while it's impossible for anyone to capture the humanity that legend brought to the role, he has the physical comedy down and delivers his one-liners with all the ham-fisted gusto you'd want from this iconic character. Sheri Moon Zombie as Lily will undoubtedly draw the ire of those again complaining she's been cast in too prominent a part, but she's good in it, effectively channeling, if sometimes intentionally overplaying, many of original actress Yvonne De Carlo's mannerisms and expressions. 

The two scene stealers are Daniel Roebuck's Count and Richard Brake's Wolfgang, with both actors not only gifted the best gags and one-liners, but greatly improving on them with dry deliveries that seem completely in line with the project's quirky intentions. It's not a coincidence that the film's best scenes tend to feature one of the two, with Brake even pulling double-duty as the grotesque Orlock, a disastrous early date for Lily. 

Elvira herself, Cassandra Peterson, has a small role as a realtor that's most notable for its normalcy and how few will recognize her, while Sylvester McCoy is sort of an afterthought as Igor, but still entertains with what he's given. But we'd be kidding ourselves in not acknowledging the biggest impression is made by the trippy, psychedelic visuals and Zoran Popovic's transcendent cinematography. There's also a concerted effort on the part of the makeup team and costume designers to have the actors' appearances not stray far at all from their original counterparts. 

Many of the weird transitions and editing choices were likely a result of Zombie attempting to invoke the style of the 60's sitcom, which he accomplishes almost too well. The family's arrival at 1313 Mockingbird Lane might be the film's strongest stretch, retroactively justifying what came before while invoking the subversiveness of the 90's The Brady Bunch movies with a clever twist. Comparisons will inevitably be made to The Addams Family big screen adaptations, which isn't entirely fair given how long we've been forced to "pick a side" between the two warring, but considerably different properties.

It's no surprise that this is already being declared the worst movie Zombie's ever made, a hyperbolic statement that would carry more weight if it wasn't uttered every time he releases a new project. The original sitcom still exists for viewers unhappy with what he's done, though those most put-off probably haven't seen the show in a while anyway, if at all. Still, there are pacing issues in the middle section that make you wonder if everything would have flowed smoother if this was just trimmed down to an hour and a half.  

Due to the overall aesthetic and relatively inspired choices made with the script, it's not impossible to envision this becoming a Halloween staple in the years ahead. Zombie retains some of his hillbilly trash hallmarks, while patching together a throwback creation that wouldn't seem out of place being introduced by a late night TV horror host like Morgus the Magnificent or Svengoolie. 

That some sections drag or don't work while entirely retaining the original's spirit begs the question: Is there still a place for The Munsters in the current era? The movie's plot actually asks this, providing discussion fodder that isn't so different from the endless debate surrounding reboots in general. But even accounting for the belief some things just shouldn't be touched, this isn't one of them. When it ends, there's a part of you left wondering why this isn't better considering all that Zombie gets right. On the other hand, it still somehow feels as good as it could possibly be.