Drop

Director: Christopher Landon
Starring: Meghann Fahy, Brandon Sklenar, Violett Beane, Jacob Robinson, Reed Diamond, Gabrielle Ryan, Jeffery Self, Ed Weeks, Benjamin Pelletier, Travis Nelson, Michael Shea
Running Time: 95 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

A woman experiences the date from hell in Christopher Landon's tense cyber thriller, Drop, which falls into a similar category as Phone Booth, Cellular or even the recent Carry-On. That it comes from the filmmaker behind Happy Death Day and Freaky should help prepare you for a clever premise filled with wildly entertaining twists, though with a slightly less humorous approach this time around. And that's not necessarily a negative, as writers Jillian Jacobs and Chris Roach script cover all their bases with increasingly creative uses of modern technology and an idea that, at just over ninety minutes, doesn't overstay its welcome. 

Providing its fair share of obstacles for the traumatized heroine, she fights an unknown oppressor after having recently survived abuse and attempted murder in her own troubled marriage. While a solid showcase for an actress gaining significant traction of late, the bigger headline is this bizarre date, which through no fault of the character's own, paints her as a total mess to everyone but us, who know better. With every vibration of the phone come a new potential catastrophe, forcing her to silently comply or face the consequences.  

Widowed single mother and therapist Violet Gates (Meghann Fahy) has just jumped back into the dating pool after the death of her violently abusive husband Blake (Michael Shea). Leaving her young son Toby (Jacob Robinson) in the care of sister Jen (Violett Beane) at home, Violet prepares to meet photographer Henry Campbell (Brandon Sklenar) for dinner at a high-rise Chicago restaurant after they connected on a dating app. Already extremely nervous about the date and being separated from Toby, she starts receiving a series of anonymous "digi-drops" on her phone from an unknown user in the restaurant. 

As the memes turn more threatening, a concerned Henry tries to help, combing the area to locate the perpetrator. But when the mystery user alerts Violet to check her home security app, she sees a masked intruder has broken in, targeting Toby and Jen. With the table bugged and Henry growing suspicious of Violet's anxiety, she struggles to keep her composure and quietly follow instructions. Blackmailed into completing a dangerous task by the end of the date, she'll have to extend their meal long enough to pull off the unthinkable, as her family's lives hang in the balance. 

The first thoughts of anyone watching will be that Henry has the patience and understanding of a saint. In fact, he's so tolerant of Violet's apparent breakdown she can't help but be impressed by his chivalry even in the midst of being texted deadly threats. Outwardly cool and laid back, he knows something's very wrong by just the sheer number of times she checks her phone and leaves the table. And while he's not sure exactly what, it's surprising he cares enough to stay and find out.  

Of course, the bigger reason Henry doesn't leave is that Violet can't let him, as his continued presence isn't only imperative to the assignment, but potentially her only lifeline left. With son and sister held hostage at home, she's implicitly ordered not to seek help or attract suspicion, kicking the plot into overdrive. This works on a number of different levels, paving the way for some suspenseful visual storytelling when Violet attempts to identify the sadistic user while under constant surveillance. But she also has some tricks up her sleeve to keep this date going and avoid committing the heinous crime that's demanded of her. 

It's a lot, but Landon streamlines these proceedings pretty well, with the restaurant's layout and atmosphere only enhancing the action. Featuring a main course of murder with its side order of mind games, it's also a safe bet this isn't taking place in an extreme high-rise building for nothing, as we suspect it'll eventually factor in. Violet's history with her deceased and abusive husband also plays a major role, allowing the mysterious antagonist to exploit her emotional baggage as a manipulative tool. Frequent flashbacks to her volatile marriage aren't completely necessary, but do add an extra wrinkle to the character, helping explain her fragile mindset going in. 

Acing her first real test as a feature lead after gaining attention on The White Lotus, a formidable Meghann Fahy brings necessary gravitas to her role as this PTSD-striken single mom caught in a no-win situation. What's interesting is how much of her dialogue consists of awkward date small talk, with the caveat being this silent battle she's simultaneously waging at the table as threatening texts splash across the screen. 

Brandon Sklenar plays a part vaguely similar to his brooding everyman in It Ends with Us, conveying the impression Henry's intrigued by Violet because of her past rather than despite it. The pair also share a sufficient amount of chemistry, which comes as a relief since we're spending the entirety of the film's running length in their company. For Violet, big question isn't whether he's too good to be true, but if it's worth the risk letting him in on what's happening given the stakes.  

Between chatty waiters, concerned bartenders and shady patrons, much of the film relies on the big reveal as suspects narrow and a cornered Violet makes her final, desperate move with the clock rapidly running down. Once the cards are laid out, it's an excitingly ridiculous finale, regardless of whether you see it coming or not. And like all successful single location thrillers, Drop walks the line of implausibility, throwing in enough distractions for us to surrender to the lunacy. But by putting its own spin on a somewhat familiar scenario, it also gives viewers good reason to feel satisfied they've seen an tidy, efficient effort more creative than most.                              

My Old Ass

Director: Megan Park
Starring: Maisy Stella, Aubrey Plaza, Percy Hynes-White, Maddie Ziegler, Kerrice Brooks, Maria Dizzia, Alexandria Rivera, Al Goulem, Seth Isaac Johnson, Carter Trozzolo
Running Time: 89 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)   

In the opening ten minutes of her sophomore effort My Old Ass, writer/director Megan Park immediately rips the band-aid off a premise that's deeper and more complex than you'd assume from its off-putting title. But despite a high concept plot, this coming-of-age dramedy about a teen encountering her future self barely contains a hint of sci-fi hijinks, with Park foregoing the usual plot machinations to focus on exploring universally resonant themes sure to strike a nostalgic chord.  

On the surface, it's about a good kid at a crossroads, looking to escape her family and small town but anxious about what lies ahead and unable to recognize how good she has it. Fun and free spirited, she's yet to experience the same soul crushing disappointment as her cynical middle-aged counterpart, moving through life without ever stopping to take it all in. At least until coming face-to-face with this visitor who's deliberately vague about what the future holds and why she's there. But at the story's core is an unusually smart teen romance carried by two talented leads that's sincere enough to invoke comparisons to mainstream comedies of decades past. 

18-year-old Elliot (Maisy Stella) is living on her parents' cranberry farm in Muskoka Lakes, Ontario, spending her final weeks before leaving for college boating with friends Ro (Kerrice Brooks) and Ruthie (Maddie Ziegler) while hooking up with longtime crush Chelsea (Alexandria Rivera). But when Elliott goes camping to celebrate her birthday and indulges in tea laced with hallucinogenic shrooms, it leads to a trippy encounter with a woman claiming to be her 39-year-old self. After providing reasonable evidence of her identity, she cautions young Elliott to appreciate the time she has with her family and stay away from someone named "Chad."

Though she still communicates via text, future Elliott disappears, but while skinny-dipping in the lake the next day, the teen meets Chad (Percy Hynes White), a boy spending the summer working for her dad. Despite Elliott trying to keep her distance, she quickly develops feelings for him, causing her to question whether she really is gay. But when news concerning her parents' farm prompts Elliott to reexamine everything she thought she knew, her older self delivers the dire warning she's been understandably hesitant to reveal.          

The movie has a lot of fun with the fact Stella and Plaza look nothing alike, as Elliott wastes no time picking apart and mocking her middle aged self, playfully criticizing everything from her appearance to being a Phd student in her late thirties. And with that back and forth, what seems like physically incongruent casting evolves into an oddly perfect match, with Stella's quick wit and straightforward delivery balancing out Plaza's droll sarcasm. Park also wisely avoids getting bogged down in details regarding whether this woman is the imaginary product of a psychedelic trip or an actual time traveler, either of which becomes increasingly irrelevant to the story's progression.   

Willing to answer some questions and offer guidance, Elliott's future self treads carefully, aware of the unwanted problems her interference could cause. And once she temporarily exits, the film sneaks up on you, as you'd be hard-pressed to find leads with better chemistry than the magnetic Stella and an underappreciated Percy Hynes-White. Together or apart, they're hilarious, intelligent, likable and up to the dramatic task when the narrative shifts into heavier terrain.  

Park doesn't take her eyes off the ball, knowing how specifics can set a smaller project like this apart. Actually shot on location in Muskoka Lakes, the film doesn't only look great, but real, having a distinct sense of time and place that distinguishes it from your typical small generic movie town. Sidestepping tired tropes, it also contains the kind of clever humor only present in well written scripts about everyday people. One such instance involves Elliott's little brother's hilarious redecorating choice when he moves into her room, a sight gag so random it can't help but earn big laughs.  

Though both versions of the character are navigating entirely different stages of life, Park doesn't squander the gift she's given with Plaza's presence, who does some of the best work of her career in just a few scenes. Keeping her in the background takes guts, it's also the right call, amplifying an already impactful performance when it takes center stage. But claiming the story takes a major turn sells Park's intentions short, falsely applying a big "gotcha" to the only logical culmination of events. And yet these final minutes are still pretty shocking, not just because of what occurs, but how woefully unprepared we are, having already let our guards down. 

While Plaza's total screen time barely exceeds twelve minutes, her last moments are the picture's most important, sticking a dagger through viewers' hearts and the character's. Known for her dry humor and deadpan delivery, she's already shown the breadth of her dramatic skills in Ingrid Goes West and Emily The Criminal, but even that can't prepare you for what she does in this single scene. Conveying a whole range of emotional introspection, future Elliott unloads a burden she realizes her younger self shouldn't be asked to carry. At least not yet. 

Young Elliott's response suggests a teen already wise beyond her years, now committing to the present with the knowledge it'll all someday disappear. Not letting this control or dictate her choices won't change what's ahead, but it does lead to an important shift, as both versions of themselves are newly connected in a way they weren't at the film's start. And in pulling that off, Park deliver a touching treatise on growing up and growing older, with hardly a misstep to be found. The more it develops, the better it gets, evolving into a rare feel good comedy that still somehow still leaves you wrecked when the credits roll.                                

Novocaine

Directors: Dan Berk and Robert Olson
Starring: Jack Quaid, Amber Midthunder, Ray Nicholson, Jacob Batalon, Betty Gabriel, Matt Walsh, Conrad Kemp, Evan Hengst, Craig Jackson, Lou Beatty Jr., Garth Collins
Running Time: 110 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)   

Crank meets Nobody in the high concept action thriller Novocaine, which centers around an unlikely hero blessed and cursed with an inability to feel pain. And while the script spends considerable time digging into the details of his condition, it also presents this affliction as a lifelong albatross, until he uses it in a way he never could have imagined. Armed with a premise that suggests a Marvel movie or variation on Unbreakable, it impressively feels like neither, suggesting the line separating weakness from superpower is only as thin as the protagonist perceives. 

Directors Dan Berk and Robert Olsen roll with this idea until it's time to get down to business, throwing their main character into a life and death scenario that forces him to use his infirmity as a weapon. And it works best when exploiting those situations and star quality of a lead whose effortlessly likable everyman performance recalls a young Tom Hanks. As a result, viewers will find themselves strangely anticipating each new predicament where he's pummeled, shot and beaten within an inch of his life to protect the girl he loves. Logic gaps notwithstanding, it's also absurdly funny, with hardly a joke or sight gag missing the mark as it attempts to subvert genre conventions.      

Nicknamed "Novocaine" growing up, mild mannered assistant bank manager Nathan Caine (Jack Quaid) suffers from CIPA (congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis), a rare nerve condition that blocks out pain, prompting him to safety proof his home and office for protection. Self-conscious about the disorder, he spends nearly all his free time online gaming with Roscoe (Jacob Batalon), a friend he's never met. But when Nathan's crush, co-worker Sherry (Amber Midthunder) expresses a romantic interest in him, he reluctantly agrees to go out with her, despite the fear he'll have to reveal his disorder. As he nervously stumbles through the date, an interested and understanding Sherry forms a connection with him over drinks. 

After spending the night with Sherry, Nathan's on cloud nine the next morning, until a gang of armed robbers dressed in Santa suits rob the bank and take her hostage. Unwilling to wait for law enforcement to intervene, Nathan steals a police car and follows the vehicle through the San Diego streets, landing himself in a series of brutal brawls with these thugs. Unable to feel pain, the conflict averse Nathan sure can take a beating, but with cops hot on his trail and suspecting he's involved, the clock's ticking to save Sherry. 

Lars Jacobson's screenplay puts a huge early focus on Nathan and Sherry's burgeoning relationship, which is a plus since Quaid and Midthunder are good enough together you almost wish this was a romantic comedy focusing on her trying to coax him out of his shell. And for a while it looks like it will be, as an unusual amount of attention is given to a buildup most action films would have rushed through. The only drawback is that sometimes all the talk about his condition borders on overexplanation, delaying the inevitable as the filmmakers work extra hard to cover their medical bases. 

While much of that info comes into play later, the more details he reveals about the disease, the more questions we have, whether it relates to his inability to eat solid foods or the nagging bladder issue. But Quaid's such a pro at selling this that you're onboard, even during a bank robbery that features some pretty incompetent police work. Though without it, the door wouldn't be opened for the chronically passive Nathan to get involved in all these wildly violent fight sequences and adrenaline fueled chase scenes. 

Whether he realizes it or not, Nathan's exposed to a continuous physical onslaught that takes its toll, subjecting him to a level of punishment no one else could withstand. Unwilling to back down until he reaches ringleader Simon (Ray Nicholson), nearly everything involving Nate's gaming friend Roscoe hits just the right notes, reminding us what a well written and performed comedic sidekick can add. And though neither of their characters are winning medals for police work anytime soon, the supporting turns from Betty Gabriel and Matt Walsh as exasperated officers are also solid. But this is Quaid's show all the way and he doesn't disappoint, especially in the frenetic last act.

The story takes a turn midway through that might split audiences down the middle or even leave them feeling as manipulated as Nathan, whose naïveté becomes his most endearing quality. The notion that everyone hides or suppresses something because they're uncomfortable in their own skin helps some of the wackier developments go down easier. It's a theme Novocaine exploits when Nathan seemingly accomplishes his goal, only to be blindsided by the worst kind of surprise. To say he emerges unscathed is inaccurate since a lack of pain won't erase fatal injuries or magically cure emotional ones. By film's end, he'll have plenty of both, but remain capable of dusting himself off for another round.