Drive-Away Dolls

Director: Ethan Coen
Starring: Margaret Qualley, Geraldine Viswanathan, Beanie Feldstein, Colman Domingo, Pedro Pascal, Bill Camp, Joey Slotnick, C.J. Wilson, Annie Gonzalez, Matt Damon
Running Time: 84 min.
Rating: R

★★½ (out of ★★★★) 

Drive-Away Dolls is an entertainingly bad comedy from a talented director who makes it more tolerable than it has any right being. So much so that while watching you can't help but consider just how much worse this could have turned out with someone other than Ethan Coen at the controls. It's primarily about this bond between two lesbian friends, with the crime caper they've unwittingly walked into finishing a close second. And while Coen and co-writer Tricia Cooke intended this to be released as Henry James' Drive-Away Dykes, it's no surprise to anyone why the studio wouldn't gamble on that title, which is actually more in line with the film's wacky tone. 

The movie's at its lowest when drowning in crude humor that occasionally feels dated even for the decade it's supposed to take place. But the real kicker is that the characters are fully developed and a smattering of jokes land, even if cringing viewers may find themselves wishing it were somehow less polished. Maybe if this wasn't well made, the scene transitions weren't so inventive or it didn't contain such good performances, an outright dismissal would feel easier. Unfortunately, it's still a mess, straddling genres while seemingly targeting two entirely different audiences.

It's 1999 in Philadelphia when Jamie (Qualley) and her best friend Marian (Viswanathan) make plans for a road trip to Tallahassee, Florida after Jamie's ugly break-up with girlfriend Sukie (Beanie Feldstein). But when drive away car service owner Curlie (Bill Camp) accidentally leases the girls a vehicle already booked by criminals Arliss (Joey Sotnick), Flint (C.J. Wilson) and The Chief (Colman Domingo), they're unknowingly stuck with cargo stolen from an eccentric collector (Pedro Pascal). 

While Jamie tries to get the straight-laced Marian to loosen up by taking detours to lesbian bars and parties, a determined Arliss and Flint are hot on their trail, determined to retrieve that mysterious suitcase and bag in the car's trunk, both of which are scandalously linked to conservative Senator Gary Channel (Matt Damon). But the inept, bumbling crooks are in for more than they bargained for as Jamie and Marian remain a few steps ahead. 

Playing more like a parody of a Coen brothers picture than the genuine article, it's best compared to their more satirical efforts like Burn After Reading or Hail Caesar!, even if shades of Fargo unexpectedly sneak in. While a cleverly shot opening sequence featuring Pedro Pascal's character hints at more comic intrigue than we actually get, certain details involving the retrieval of this contraband are funny. Most notably the scenes with these feuding, incompetent criminals and a memorable encounter with a local girls' soccer team. Beanie Feldstein also gives an off-the-wall supporting performance as Jamie's crazed ex that feels like the kind of role her brother would have played in 2007.  

Everything takes a backseat to the relationship between polar opposites Jamie and Marian, who realize through their witty banter and misadventures that they share more in common than originally assumed. That most of those exchanges pay off with some sort of visual sex gag is no fault of the actresses, who do their best with the material. In Viswanathan's case, she rises above this, giving a more sarcastically muted turn that grounds the movie and gives it a moral center. Sporting a Texas drawl, Qualley has fun as Jamie, and while the character is too much, Viswanathan at least ensures Marian's exasperated demeanor reflects that.

In addition to a really bizarre, uncredited big name celebrity cameo, Matt Damon makes the most of his brief screen time as a Senator on the brink of being embarrassingly exposed in more ways than one. But anyone expecting a mystery on the level of Pulp Fiction's briefcase may be disappointed by a reveal that's disgustingly humorous, but par the course for this script. Amusing to a point, you just can't help but roll your eyes, realizing how it sums up the whole effort in a nutshell.

Clocking in at a bearably brisk 84 minutes, Drive-Away Dolls is a minor letdown that ranks on the lower end of either Coen brothers' filmography, managing at least to team up two up and coming actresses who deliver the goods. But fans anticipating another cult classic should probably readjust their expectations to prepare for something closer to a queer American Pie. Everyone else will just be left scratching their heads, wondering why this didn't quite come together like it should.    

Fallout (Season 1)

Creators: Graham Wagner and Geneva Robertson Dworet
Starring: Ella Purnell, Aaron Moten, Kyle MacLachlan, Moisés Arias, Xelia Mendes-Jones, Walton Goggins, Sarita Choudhury, Leslie Uggams, Johnny Pemberton, Zach Cherry, Annabel O'Hagan, Dave Register, Teagan Meredith, Frances Turner, Michael Cristofer, Mykelti Williamson, Cameron Cowperthwaite, Michael Emerson, Michael Rapaport, Dale Dickey, Jon Daly, Chris Parnell, Fred Armisen, Erik Estrada
Original Airdate: 2024

★★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

Destroying any and all preconceived notions about the viability of popular video game adaptations, Prime Video's Fallout presents a quirky, one-of-a-kind post-apocalyptic universe that's accessible to fans and non-fans alike. Its eight episodes hit all the right notes, telling a simple but surprisingly complex, action packed story that takes itself just seriously enough. At first, you'll worry we've entered one of those "mystery boxes" intended to string viewers along without revealing anything of consequence. But it instead delivers more answers than we know what to do with, generating enough creative juice to spill into future seasons. 

Envisioned by Westworld creators Jonathan Nolan and Lisa Roy, the biggest thrill is seeing how all the pieces fit to form a fuller picture by its end. Players of the game are probably well versed in the broader details, but those going in cold are in for a trip, with no foreknowledge required to appreciate all that must have gone into translating this to the small screen. And in recalling the better elements of genre staples like Mad Max, Star Wars and Lost, it also manages to sidestep the frustrating narrative baggage that's occasionally accompanied them. 

Filled with dark, satiric humor, spectacular visual effects and a trio of award-worthy performances, what most stands out is its timeliness, or in an even larger context, its timelessness. Considering the game itself came out in the late nineties, this interpretation arrives at just the right moment, mixing themes of nuclear war, political strife, socioeconomic collapse, capitalism and governmental control into an entertainingly subversive package that aims much higher than anticipated.

In the Great War of 2077, a nuclear blast decimated Earth, leaving a retrofuturistic society with scarce resources. Survivors took refuge in fallout shelters or Vaults, designed by a technology company called Vault-Tec. It's 200 years later when Vault 33's cheery, optimistic Lucy MacLean (Ella Purnell) volunteers to marry a neighboring 32 Dweller, but when a violent raid occurs, her father and Vault overseer Hank (Kyle MacLachlan) is abducted by the mysterious Moldaver (Sarita Choudhury).

With help from her brother Norm (Moisés Arias), Lucy ventures outside the vault into a devastated Los Angeles Wasteland to locate Hank. While searching, she'll encounter newly promoted Brotherhood of Steel squire Maximus (Aaron Moten), who's on a mission of his own. She'll also cross paths with The Ghoul (Walton Goggins), a gunslinging bounty hunter once known as famous movie actor Cooper Howard. Caught in the crosshairs is escaped Enclave scientist Dr. Siggi Wilzig (Michael Emerson), who holds the key to a valuable energy source and might be Lucy's most important bargaining chip.

Focusing primarily on three main characters, the series really revolves around Vault-Tec's history and how it informs their present situation. After a brief, but unforgettable flashback showing actor Cooper Howard and his daughter Janey on the day of 2077's nuclear attack, we're taken out of a 50's looking milieu that's technology stalled post-World II and thrust into the confines of Vault 33 in 2296.  Eventually, we'll not only discover how this whole project came to be, but its entire purpose for the survivors inhabiting it.

Everyday life down below and in the adjacent Vaults of 31 and 32 appear almost utopian at first, which is exactly what the designated overseers intended. And it isn't as if the citizens have much choice since their only alternative is the dog eat dog landscape of the Wasteland, complete with its deadly radiation levels and random carnage. 

The Vaults may reflect the illusion of community, but it's also a tightly controlled, antiseptic environment that leaves little room for independence. While easily identifiable as a cult, for characters who've known nothing else their entire lives and are deprived the freedom to think or feel for themselves, it's simply business as usual. 

Being the daughter of Vault 33's overseer, the innocent, impressionable Lucy is all in with Vault-Tec's philosophy until a catastrophic breach threatens to reveal organizational secrets her brother Norm is hell-bent on uncovering, whatever the consequences. The attack on the Vault itself is one of the series' defining moments, as a soundtrack of oldies play over a brilliantly choreographed ballet of gruesome violence, with the residents' idyllic existence juxtaposed against blood soaked brutality. 

When a traumatized Lucy escapes the Vault to find Hank, she's warned how life outside that bubble will challenge her loyal optimism. These are the sacrifices some must make to adapt and survive, in certain cases morally transforming into something they'd never imagine. No one knows this better than Cooper Howard, the once popular Hollywood actor now roaming the L.A. Wasteland as a disfigured bounty hunter who eerily resembles Captain America nemesis Red Skull. 

Cooper's motivations are the most intriguing since his centuries-spanning biography plays as a supervillain origin story, with Goggins bridging the gap between charismatic celebrity and family man we see in flashbacks and the mutated monster he'll later become. But once we're given glimpses into the Cooper's role as Vault-Tec pitchman and wife Barb's (Frances Turner) pull as a high ranking executive within the company, his downfall becomes clearer. 

Lucy finds the ideal ally in Maximus, a bullied squire from the Brotherhood of Steel, who steps into the position vacated by his injured best friend Dane (Xelia Mendes-Jones). But when a controversial decision lands him in the power armor of the knight he's assisting, he and Lucy realize their shared goal is best accomplished together. But not until facing down some serious obstacles like The Ghoul, who's after exactly what they are. An awe-inspiring western style shootout in the second episode establishes just how dangerous he is, as Lucy finds herself on the receiving end of his wrath for reasons that aren't entirely coincidental.

Trust ceases to exist in the Wasteland so the toughest battle for Lucy is coming to grips with this and accepting her life wasn't as rosy as she'd assumed. With intersecting storylines balancing simultaneously, all roads lead to the finale, which fills in a lot blanks, clarifying the events that brought these characters to this point. 

After proving just how engaging she can be as popular soccer team captain turned plane crash survivor in Showtime's Yellowjackets, Ella Purnell's superstar card is now punched with her affecting turn as Lucy. While the expressive, saucer eyed actress excels in the action scenes, what stands out is how well she conveys her character's evolution, slowly waking to the realization everything she assumed about the world was a lie. Through it all, her upbeat "okey dokey" attitude and inherent belief in good rarely crumbles, remaining determined to push forward without being infected with the bitterness that's consumed others. 

Purnell and Moten share believable chemistry as a tandem, with the self-loathing Maximus suffering a similar crisis of conscious, wrestling with who he is and pretends to be, but still baring the emotional scars of a tragic childhood event. It's hard not to compare his arc under the knight's armor to what Disney's Star Wars sequels failed in doing with Finn's storm trooper, instead pushing that character to the sidelines. Front and center throughout, Maximus is anything but an afterthought here, with Moten carrying a large share of the plot.

Journeyman character actor Walton Goggins steals every scene as Cooper Howard/The Ghoul, disappearing into each while still somehow convincing us they're one in the same under all those layers of makeup. His flashbacks are a highlight of the series, invoking Once Upon a Time in Hollywood as the Rick Dalton-esque Cooper wrestles with his marriage and public endorsement of a very controversial program.

Goggins is also downright brilliant as the gunslinging Ghoul, ruthlessly letting everyone know just how easily they could have wound up in his shoes. Only by the end is it confirmed what and whom he's really after, hinting that he may still have a small shred of humanity left. And however brief, it's great to see Lost's Michael Emerson again, as the former Benjamin Linus brings his unmistakable eccentricity to a role that doesn't veer all that far from what his fans would eagerly expect.

The finale gives a lot up while still laying plenty of road for this story to continue as long as its creators want it to. Whether or not the momentum can be maintained is another matter, but based on what comes to light in the closing minutes, there's a lot left to explore. With certain characters revealing their true colors, uneasy alliances being forged and some questions still left about what we've seen, it's anyone's guess where it could lead. 

Fallout picks up steam with each new development, pulling its characters in different directions before delivering a twisty, cliffhanger finale that sets the stage for subsequent chapters. We're not getting more because we need answers, but to see where the story goes next. It's addictive sci-fi TV done right, overcoming limitations even the best in this genre face when attempting to deliver an adventure of this size and scope.

Bob Marley: One Love

Director: Reinaldo Marcus Green
Starring: Kingsley Ben-Adir, Lashana Lynch, James Norton, Tosin Cole, Aston Barrett Jr., Anthony Welsh, Sevana, Hector Boots Lewis, Alexxa A-Game, Abijah "Naki Wailer" Livingston, Stefan A.D Wade, Michael Gandolfini
Running Time: 107 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★½ (out of ★★★★)

It's become commonplace for many to bemoan each new musical biopic as "paint by numbers," arguing they often fail in capturing the life and career of its subject. But you might have a whole new appreciation for those supposedly flawed films after viewing director Reinaldo Marcus Green's Bob Marley: One Love. On one hand, it takes great pains in actively avoiding a lot of tropes that have defined the genre over the years. Unfortunately, that also turns out to be its biggest problem. 

Instead of nitpicking inaccuracies and chronological errors in otherwise exceptional entertainment like Rocketman and Bohemian Rhapsody, it might be time to admit the standard biopic format exists for a reason. Otherwise, we're left with something like this, which isn't just an occasional chore to sit through, but lacks the scope and excitement befitting one of the most revered recording artists of the era.                

It's 1976 and as Jamaica remains firmly entrenched in political turmoil and violence, reggae singer Bob Marley (Kingsley Ben-Adir) announces he'll be performing at the "Smile Jamaica" concert to promote peace in his homeland. But when Marley, his wife Rita (Lashana Lynch) and other band members survive a shooting, he'll need to contemplate his next steps while coming to grips with why a fellow countryman would try to kill him.  

After recovering, Marley and the band turn their attention to the recording of "Exodus," a concept album partially inspired by the soundtrack to the feature film. It becomes a huge hit, catapulting him to worldwide fame as he tours with The Wailers and plans to play in Africa against the record label's wishes.  But infidelity, managerial turmoil and increasing health concerns threaten Marley's already shaky marriage to Rita. Through it all, he remains determined to spread his message of peace at any cost.

The film's opening hour is sort of a slog, as screenwriters Green, Terence Winter, Frank E. Flowers and Zach Baylin forego any route that would brand this as a rote, mechanical biography. Other than some brief, visually arresting flashbacks of Marley being abandoned as a child, there's no background on his early life, instead zeroing in on the singer's mid to late 70's and early 80's peak. But it's tough to deride the decision since that window does represent him at the height of his powers and social activism, making music universal enough to bridge political divides and ideaologies. 

The movie's at its best when depicting that influence, but there's also a lot of aimlessness sandwiched in between. The assassination attempt is a big inciting event, but it's followed by long stretches of Marley sitting in solitude, singing to himself and getting high as he quietly contemplates his next move. Friends come and go, time's spent with a few underdeveloped supporting characters, but business doesn't really pick up until he and the band quarrel with Island Record executives over cover art for their eventual breakout album.

Of course, the album's success proves Marley right, and with his musical genius now widely affirmed, the rest of the film focuses on his ascent, which isn't without casualties. Lashana Lynch impresses as Rita, but any acknowledgement of their problems is limited to one emotionally heavy scene and their kids are treated as an afterthought. That two of them would go on to co-produce this very picture only makes the exclusion that much stranger, even with the passing implication Marley skirted his parental responsibilities.

While not physically resembling Marley much at all, British actor Kingley Ben-Adir (who previously played Malcolm X in One Night in Miami) acquits himself fine in the title role, giving an introspective performance that stands in stark contrast to the larger than life turns we see in biopics of this sort. But if Marley is a different, more subdued musical figure who necessitates this approach, the results still remain less than enthralling for viewers.                

There are some memorable shots from Oscar winning cinematographer Robert Elswit and it's never a bad thing to hear wall-to-wall Bob Marley music for two straight hours, but those strengths can also frustrate, teasing us with what a deeper examination of this talent could look like. It's admirable Green forgoes what's expected, but it's still more of a navel-gazing hangout movie about Marley's philosophy than an all encompassing dive into his life. 

Full of small compelling moments, others only serve to test viewers' patience as we become flies on the wall, waiting for the story to find its voice in the third act. While technically well crafted and containing some worthwhile performances, it ambles along until reaching a conclusion padded with title cards and actual concert footage. If the idea was to focus on what Bob Marley represented, it's partially successful, but feels stitched together, causing disappointment for those hoping he'd get a film worthy of his impact.                 

Wonka

Director: Paul King
Starring: Timothée Chalamet, Calah Lane, Keegan-Michael Key, Paterson Joseph, Matt Lucas, Matthew Baynton, Sally Hawkins, Rowan Atkinson, Jim Carter, Natasha Rothwell, Olivia Colman, Hugh Grant, Rich Fulcher, Rakhee Thakrar, Tom Davis
Running Time: 116 min.
Rating: PG

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

As the latest cinematic take on Roald Dahl's legendary children's book, Wonka surprisingly represents a best case scenario for another go-around with the material. Now far more associated with Gene Wilder's performance in 1971's Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory than the novel itself, the actor's iconic turn would always be impossible to top. Johnny Depp took a stab at it, attempting something completely different in Tim Burton's 2005 reimagining, but still found himself in the shadow of an instantly recognizable, universally beloved work that's already ingrained into pop culture. 

The unexpected selection of Timothée Chalamet to play this role did little to quell fears of a bloated, miscast cash grab, causing even more groans and skepticism than you'd anticipate ahead of Paul King's musical fantasy prequel. But the involvement of Paddington's imaginative director at least signaled the chance this could amount to more. And as it turns out, King and co-writer Simon Farnaby deliver, concocting an origin story that does justice to its predecessor's spirit, while still straying from the source in inspired ways.

Upon arriving in Europe, eccentric inventor and magician Willy Wonka (Chalamet) dreams of honoring his late mother (Sally Hawkins) by opening a chocolate shop at The Galéries Gourmet, home to the world's best confectioneries. But after quickly burning through his savings, a homeless Wonka is persuaded by oafish henchman Bleacher (Tom Davis) to stay at Mrs. Scrubitt's (Olivia Colman) boarding house, unwittingly signing a contract full of expensive hidden fees. Trapped in her basement laundry working off his debt, he meets five other "employees," including young orphan Noodle (Calah Lane) with whom he shares his chocolate making secrets. 

Planning his escape, Wonka must contend with rival shop owners Slugworth (Paterson Joseph), Prodnose (Matt Lucas) and Fickelgruber (Matthew Baynton) who bribe the corrupt, chocolate addicted Police Chief (Keegan-Michael Key) into running him out of town. As Wonka and Noodle attempt to expose this conspiracy, he also faces off with a determined Oompa Loompa named Lofty (Hugh Grant) who's been stealing his sweets to settle a past score. With Wonka's chances of achieving his lifelong dream slipping away, he'll need to get creative, enlisting the help of some new friends.

This opens with a show stopping musical number that establishes Wonka's situation in only a few minutes, successfully grabbing those who may know nothing of the character at all. But it doesn't rely on previous films or even the book, instead using both as a jumping off point to explore what the early incarnation of this wacky inventor could have been. This helps set the tone, with King striking a strong balance between story and song, knowing exactly how to present these sequences so they don't feel forced or shoehorned in. 

Infusing young Wonka with a wry, off-putting sense of humor, Chalamet gives us a sense of how unlucky beginnings inform the aspiring entrepreneur's instincts. Determined, but not completely sure of himself, he's in need of some aid and motivation while stumbling into enemy territory, sabotaged at every turn by the hilariously crooked chocolate cartel. 

In a story driven as much by over-the-top villains as its protagonist's heroics, Olivia Colman hams it up as the nefarious Mrs. Scrubitt, whose long suffering laundry workers are at least afforded the luxury of a catchy theme song. As her nasty hotel owner gives off vibes of Annie's Miss Hannigan, Paterson Joseph's conniving ringleader Slugworth makes for the most memorable of the three chocolatiers, with Keegan-Michael Key also stealing scenes as the bumbling, overeating lawman. 

Much of what works can be attributed to the pairing of Chalamet with Calah Lane as the orphan Noodle. Lane's just a total natural in the role and the writers are clever enough to give the character a purpose beyond merely serving as Wonka's junior sidekick. You get the impression he needs her more, with their joint efforts culminating in an elaborate, cleverly choreographed last act heist that's heartfelt and funny. It also feels right on brand, as does the casting of Hugh Grant as an Oompa Loompa, which isn't something anyone knew they needed until seeing it. He definitely doesn't disappoint, playing little orange Lofty as condescendingly as you'd hope.

It's really hard to nail a musical, much less one with an established lineage, but this has a distinctive visual flair and solid pacing that lends well to the format, harkening back to the genre's glory days. Better still, Nathan Crowley's production design is top notch and the plot makes sense, making it easy to care for the humorous heroes and dastardly scoundrels populating King's fantastical world.  

While Wonka lacks the darker, creepier undertones of the previous two films, it adds just the right dose of mischievous cynicism, abiding by the franchise's unwritten rule that things should be a little weird, keeping with the story's spirit. But the biggest shock might be Chalamet, who's delightful in a part most wouldn't think he'd have any business in, emanating just the right mix of innocence and lunacy. Knowing it's a fool's errand attempting to channel Wilder, he instead lays a believable foundation for what we know comes next, bolstering an already enjoyable companion piece to the classic film.                   

The Royal Hotel

Director: Kitty Green
Starring: Julia Garner, Jessica Henwick, Toby Wallace, Hugo Weaving, Ursula Yovich, James Frecheville, Daniel Henshall, Baykali Ganambarr
Running Time: 91 min.
Rating: R 

★★½ (out of ★★★★)

Kitty Green's The Royal Hotel doesn't really start until it's about ready to end, resulting in a slow burn that finally boils over before the credits roll. Less a traditional thriller than a series of misogynistic ordeals befalling its two protagonists, what unfolds is intelligently staged and performed. And yet, even with an atmosphere ripe for such a scenario, this impending sense of doom still feels like a big tease. Seemingly seeking inspiration from 1971's Australian cult classic, Wake In Fright, its best scenes do channel a similar dislocation and anxiety at being stranded in unfamiliar territory with menacing locals. But since so little happens, more patience is required. 

Such a methodical buildup could be a deal breaker for those wanting the film to go somewhere it doesn't, anticipating a violent, grueling story of two young women fighting for survival abroad. Green's previous feature, 2019's #MeToo drama The Assistant actually does a better job ratcheting up a series of micro and macro aggressions within its claustrophobic office setting. This lacks the urgency of that effort, but does feature another absorbing performance from Ozark actress Julia Garner, who at least ensures it won't be mistaken for The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel.             

When American backpackers Hanna (Garner) and Liv (Jessica Henwick) travel through Sydney, Australia and run out of money while partying, they agree to take jobs as bartenders at the Royal Hotel pub in a remote outback mining town. Planning to stay until they've earned enough cash to enjoy their vacation, they meet the pub's owner, Billy (Hugo Weaving) and his wife Carol (Ursula Yovich), who works as the chef. Arriving as their predecessors are thrown a wild going away party, Hanna and Liv are exposed to the patrons, nearly all of whom are drunk men who make sexist jokes, hit on them, and are basically offensive in every way. 

While Hanna is disturbed and frightened by the guys' behavior, Liv chalks it up to cultural differences, rationalizing they just need to hang tight for a few more weeks. But even as Hanna forges a bond with local pubgoer Matty (Toby Wallace), it's clear they're not as safe as Liv presumes. Threatening incidents grow in number and intensity, compromising their ability to walk away without facing potentially violent consequences. As easygoing Liv continues to let things roll off her back, Hanna's had enough, knowing they'll have to take a stand before it's too late.

Based on a true story and adapted into the 2016 documentary Hotel Coolgardie, it isn't hard to believe much of what happens in Green and co-writer Oscar Redding's script, especially considering how it exploits the human fear of fending for yourself in an unknown location surrounded by strangers. Add drinking to an already unbalanced dynamic and those tensions only heighten, lending these events a sense of realism, though not necessarily nail-biting excitement. 

The two friends couldn't be any more different, with Hanna constantly on guard, overwhelmed by the sense things could quickly go bad for them. Between strong hints of racism and implied rape, she knows what's happening here, even as Liv's head remains in the clouds. If nothing else, it's intriguing to see Garner in a role that's the antithesis of Ozark's Ruth Langmore, playing a shy, vulnerable target rather than an agent of chaos. She really registers in the quieter scenes where we see the vaguely disguised terror on Hanna's face, each subtle expression correctly predicting how much worse it'll get. 

Henwick's Liv is a shallower written character, as even a blinking neon "Danger" sign outside the hotel wouldn't be enough to convince her to leave. Hugo Weaving is nearly unrecognizable as pub owner Billy, whose drinking unleashes an unpleasantness wife Carol has grown sick of years ago. Maybe the the only trustworthy person the girls encounter, she knows what it's like to be a woman in a town full of intimidating brutes. One of them, Dolly (Daniel Henshall), comes across as the creepiest and most malicious, hovering on the periphery before an unnerving scene confirms Hanna's worst suspicions. 

Toby Wallace also makes a big impact as Matty, who Hanna is drawn to, but keeps at arm's length. The arc is fairly predictable, but Wallace plays it down the middle so skillfully that we grasp her ambivalence in the face of many red flags. Anyone who's seen Netflix's cancelled too soon The Society knows how strong an actor he is, standing out amidst a loaded cast of future stars. He brings that same devious charm to this, despite the project not amounting to nearly as much. 

By the time this reaches the last act, its reasonable length still leaves you spent, with the closing minutes feeling almost too convenient, if not overdue. Even with Garner delivering a turn that strays considerably from her Emmy winning TV role, it still doesn't quite get over the finish line. The Royal Hotel works well enough as a psychological character study, but everything comes down to its payoff, which reveals a promising setup in search of the missing pieces to do it justice.                      

Lisa Frankenstein

Director: Zelda Williams
Starring: Kathryn Newton, Cole Sprouse, Liza Soberano, Henry Eikenberry, Joe Chrest, Carla Gugino, Jenna Davis, Bryce Romero
Running Time: 101 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Lisa Frankenstein's greatest asset comes in knowing exactly where its going and taking subversive detours to make it more fun than it has a right being. Aside from some minor pacing problems in its second half, Zelda Williams's feature directorial debut keeps the spotlight on whom it belongs, channeling the better aspects of classic 80's teen comedies like Weird Science with aesthetic and stylistic choices that mark her as a filmmaker to watch. Trailers may have indicated this would be a goofy throwback romance between a teen girl and zombie, and while that's not completely untrue, it isn't exactly accurate either. 

Oscar winner Diablo Cody's wickedly clever screenplay mitigates any concerns its premise will deteriorate into a silly farce featuring one sight gag after another. Not only are the jokes unexpectedly sharp, its quirky anti-heroine, Kathyrn Newton cuts loose and goes for the jugular, revealing a different side to the actress we haven't seen in other roles, including Freaky. And in providing her the ideal platform to literally and figuratively slay, it also manages to flesh out a myriad of supporting characters who don't exactly come across as the stereotypes you'd assume.

It's 1989 and sullen teenager Lisa Swallows (Newton) is still grieving the death of her mother at the hands of a masked axe murderer two years earlier. Making matters worse is her father Dale's (Joe Chrest) recent marriage to self-absorbed egomaniac Janet (Carla Gugino), whose popular cheerleader daughter Taffy (Liza Soberano) becomes Lisa's new stepsister. Depressed and withdrawn, Lisa spends most of her free time at the nearby Bachelor's Grove Cemetery speaking to the grave of an unknown Victorian-era man (Cole Sprouse) who died in 1837.

After Lisa visits the young man's grave following an unfortunate party experience with Taffy, a bolt of lightening strikes, resurrecting him. Setting his sights on Lisa, he pays her a surprise visit, with her cleaning the Creature up and hiding him in the closet. Despite being mute, he's the only one who truly understands what she's going through, but their strengthening bond could soon prove to be a match made in hell for everyone else.

The opening 40 minutes are really creative, and for the majority of its running time, it maintains that consistency, transporting us into a world that's very much a pleasure to reside in. If we've been clobbered by self-referential retro horror outings of late, this and last year's 80's set time-bending Totally Killer stand out as notable exceptions, understanding the nuances that make the sub-genre work. And with a wildly inventive, Tim Burton-like animated opening title sequence, eye popping production design and nostalgia infused soundtrack, it's almost immediately obvious Williams just gets it. 

Lisa's the kind of goth melancholy outsider you'd imagine being played by Winona Ryder if this were released in the year it's set. We're given a substantial amount of time with the character, not only exploring her grief, but relationships with her dad, new sister and comically evil stepmother. A crush on classmate Michael (Henry Eikenberry) seems to provide Lisa the only smidgen of hope and confidence she's had since the tragedy. 

Carla Gugino chews up the scenery as Janet, leading viewers to crave her comeuppance while the relentlessly positive Taffy is a little more complicated, actually conveying some degree of sincerity. You could envision a lesser script treating this character worse but Liza Soberano also deserves a lot of credit for helping to flip the "mean girl" trope on its head. This becomes especially important in the film's last act when all the equity she's poured into the role eventually pays off.

Seemingly influenced by Johnny Depp's Edward Scissorhands turn, Sprouse does fine work opposite Newton, delivering sort of this old school silent film performance that rests almost entirely on his herky jerky movements and facial expressions. The two characters form this parasitic union that's simultaneously demented and touching, with Lisa appearing to have finally connected with someone, even if he's not fully among the living. Also thanks to Newton, Lisa remains likably sympathetic as the two embark on their rampage of revenge, her character's considerable sewing skills helping along the way.  

The most surprising element in Lisa Frankenstein just might be how dark it manages to get, and while fans will probably still groan about its 'PG-13' rating, this does find that sweet spot of showing just enough gore and violence to fit the picture's tone. The film's only real offense is Cody's dubious claim it's somehow set in the same "universe" as her recently reappraised 2009 horror comedy Jennifer's Body. But considering just how superior this is to that, it's unlikely anyone would have problems telling them apart. 

Cat Person

Director: Susanna Fogel
Starring: Emilia Jones, Nicholas Braun, Geraldine Viswanathan, Isabella Rossellini, Hope Davis, Fred Melamed, Christopher Shyer, Liza Koshy, Josh Andrés Rivera, Isaac Cole Powell, Michael Gandolfini
Running Time: 120 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

Based on the 2017 New Yorker short story by Kristen Roupenian, Cat Person revolves around a single idea, but it's an undeniably good one. Carried by a pair of gripping performances, it explores how the thinnest of lines can separate seemingly innocuous and dangerous situations. That's the challenge facing a protagonist who may have bigger worries than whether the man she's dating really owns two cats. Though this detail could represent the difference between a decent, eccentric stranger with noble intentions or a serial killer about to send her home in a body bag. 

Director Susanna Fogel begins her film with a great Margaret Atwood quote: "Men are afraid that women will laugh at them. Women are afraid that men will kill them." But don't be fooled into thinking this is a #MeToo lecture. It reaches a bit further, keeping us guessing until the story's backed against a wall, eventually transforming into a compulsively watchable character driven thriller that achieves slightly more. 

20 year-old college sophomore and part-time movie theater employee Margot (Emilia Jones) attracts the attention of frequent theatergoer Robert (Nicholas Braun), whom she describes to her feminist best friend Taylor (Geraldine Viswanathan) as resembling a character in an Apatow comedy. After a couple of awkward encounters, he gets Margot's number and they start texting until she eventually agrees to go out with him, despite Taylor's warnings and her misgivings about his odd behavior.

Following a disastrous first date and lingering feelings Robert could have creepy or even violent tendencies, Margot still can't break it off, constantly trying to convince herself of the positives. But even while fearing the worst case scenario, nothing quite prepares her for the consequences when this fling implodes and Robert proves increasingly difficult to move past. 

This guy may as well be waving a red flag when he walks into that theater and encounters Margot, with the two engaging in a strained banter that only sort of qualifies as conversation. At first glance, he's so obviously suspicious it almost seems like a flaw in Michelle Ashford's script or even the direction, until you realize that's exactly what the film's going for. Margot isn't so much enamored with him, but the idea of it, immediately tossing logic out the window to tempt fate. 

Fogel employs multiple dream sequences where Margot envisions Robert attacking her, only to pull back the curtain to reveal she's imagining it all. The familiar device becomes annoyingly repetitive until we get a hypothetical therapy session that gives us a rare glimpse into his mind and possible motivations. Reality collides with Margot's expectations when tiny details add up to paint a fuller picture. Young and insecure, she barely tolerates Taylor's sound advice and can't stand her smothering mom (Hope Davis) or vain step-dad (Christopher Shyer). Every decision she makes can be viewed through that prism.  

CODA actress Emilia Jones gives a high wire act of a performance that further clarifies why even that Best Picture winner's harshest detractors thought she was the best thing about it. Her upside is further cemented here in a difficult role that requires someone capable of credibly skirting the line between extreme vulnerability and cynicism. With every decision, Margot hides her romantic idealism beneath sarcastic humor, but remains just aware enough to realize she could end up a true crime statistic. 

As Robert, Succession's Nicholas Braun makes us doubt our own suspicions, investing his character with alarming quirks while leaving enough room for plausible deniability. Since this mostly takes Margot's perspective, so do we, but Braun deserves a lot of credit for planting subtle clues that Robert could be getting a raw deal. Or maybe not. The character's problematic worship of Harrison Ford's cinematic persona and the fact he looks a decade older than he claims doesn't qualify him as a killer, but everything is only a matter of degrees. And the increments are smaller than both assume. 

Geraldine Viswanathan impresses as Margot's cynical, sub-reddit dwelling friend, Taylor, highlighting the dissonance and similarities between living online and in the real world. And Isabella Rossellini has a small role too bizarre to describe other than by saying it involves an ant colony. The film also utilizes texting pretty well on screen, especially in a powerful scene where a series of messages intensify in hostility with each incoming ping. 

The turning point comes in a painfully awkward sex scene where Margot disengages and retreats into a conversation with another version of herself. It's kind of brilliant how Fogel makes this so uncomfortable to watch, as the whole sequence seems never ending, forcing us to watch and feel her humiliation. Stuck between lying to get through it and a fear of saying "no," she simply surrenders, chalking it up as the final straw. 

Managing to write itself out of a hole, the film provides a conclusive finish while leaving enough lingering questions to keep us thinking. In retrospect, it ends the only way it can, coming full circle as the "origin story" neither character wanted. Reluctantly entering a relationship based on the illusion of trust and compatibility, our heroine's dilemma escalates when self doubt overrides suspicion, causing viewers to squirm at the treacherous territory these two navigate in their messy, desperate attempt at authentic human connection.