Sketch effectively colors outside the lines
With its stable of inspirational movies, religious animated features and overt sports-as-life metaphor movies, Angel Films has gained a foothold in the entertainment industry as the source of faith-based films. Obvious in their marketing and intent, the studio has found great success in appealing to church groups to promote their wares, the films holding little in the way of surprise regarding their gentle approach and inspirational messaging.
So, imagine my surprise to find their latest release, Seth
Worley’s Sketch, is an unexpectedly dark film, with shades of
Spielbergian suburban horror that is, at times, far too unnerving for the
pre-teen audience it’s aimed at. Don’t get me wrong, this was a pleasant turn
of events as I was anticipating a bland, obvious kids’ adventure cut from the
same cloth as The Goonies, which it does borrow from at times. Yet,
Worley has bigger narrative axes to grind, exploring childhood trauma and
denial with an at times unflinching eye that is ultimately effective.
Amber Wyatt (Bianca Bell), like her brother, Jack (Kue
Lawrence), and father, Taylor (Tony Hale), is reeling from the death of her
mother. The trio go about their days as if nothing is amiss, each
suppressing the anger and fear they’re experiencing. However, the young girl is
venting through her art, her notebook filled with horrific monsters of her own
design, inflicting violent acts on schoolmates she dislikes. Taylor is alerted
to this by a school counselor whose strategies to address this prove less than
effective.
Meanwhile, Jack has discovered that a lake not far from
where they live has strange powers. Not only does it have restorative
capabilities, healing wounds overnight, but it seems to be able to bring things
to life. This is proven beyond a shadow of a doubt when Amber’s notebook is
inadvertently dipped into it and the monsters it contains come to life.
What results is an, at times, genuinely tense adventure film
that finds Amber, Jack and one of their friends, Bowman (Kalon Cox), combating
these creatures while the adults about them continue to disbelief them until
it’s nearly too late. It’s a tale as old as The Blob (1958). Worley makes a
bold aesthetic choice in the way he renders the monsters, portraying them as
crudely as they appear in the notebook, their crayon lines uneven, their bodies
filled with gaps, with coloring at times well outside the lines.
What could have come off as
unintentionally comical proves to be unsettling and, at times, terrifying. When
they first appear, Worley wisely provides only glimpses of the creatures, all
incredibly large or numerous, as befitting a child’s imagination. Yet, as they
multiply, they become more vivid, each subsequent creature more powerful than
the last, each representing Amber’s increasing sense of rage and pain.
Fortunately, Bell and Lawrence are up to the task of
bringing sincerity to their portrayals of Amber and Jack. Genuine in their
approach, they effectively convey their characters’ grief, grounding the film
emotionally so that it succeeds. Unfortunately, their costar, Cox is as
obvious as he is subtle, regrettably drawing focus in every scene he’s in.
Hale, of course, is solid and is supported ably by D’Arcy Carden as his
frustrated sister-in-law.
It will be interesting to see how unsuspecting families
react to all of this. The advertising materials give no indication that the
film is as intense as it is or that grief is its thematic focus. I, for one,
was pleasantly surprised these cards were held close to the vest, Sketch
providing an unexpectedly meaningful and poignant experience. Here’s hoping it
will be used as the tool it’s intended to be in providing an avenue for
children to speak of those things that frighten them and help them come to
terms with the world’s monsters, real and imagined. In theaters.
Pickup a letdown
Tim
Story’s The Pickup is one of the most egregiously ridiculous films in
recent memory, and with the plethora of misguided features we’ve seen of late,
that’s saying something. This would-be heist movie gets very little right – its
story full of holes, the acting uninspired, the direction pedestrian. Yet, what
makes it stand out for all the wrong reasons is the wanton stupidity it employs
to keep the threadbare story afloat, instances that defy all logic, treating
the viewer as the most gullible of saps.
Eddie Murphy stars as Russell Pierce, a
veteran security guard for an armored car company on the verge of retirement.
He hopes to open a bed-and-breakfast with his wife, Natalie (Eva Longoria), but
lacks the gumption and the cash to pull the trigger. On the day of his 25th
wedding anniversary, he’s paired with rookie Travis Stolley (Pete Davidson), a
goofball who doesn’t take his job seriously and can’t stop talking about a long
weekend with Zoe (Keke Palmer), who he met just days before.
The mismatched pair are assigned an absurdly
long route and find themselves under siege when they reach their most remote
point. Seems Zoe only hooked up with Stolley to get information about his job
and with her two contentious partners, Banner (Jack Kesy) and Miguel
(Ismael Cruz Cordova), she intends to rob the rolling safe.
So
far, so bland. But once Pierce and Stolley hit the road, logic is just so much
collateral damage in the pursuit of thrills. Writers Kevin Burrows and Matt
Mider would have us believe there’s an 80-mile stretch of highway in New Jersey
where no cellphone service is available. In addition, it seems to be completely
deserted, not a car in sight for miles and miles in either direction.
Apparently, this is a magical area as well, as
horrific car crashes, ones in which the driver’s neck would be snapped many
times over and compound fracture at every joint would occur, prove to be
harmless. Characters walk away with nary a scratch after enduring such
accidents. It’s an amazing thing…
Don’t get me started about the absurdity of Zoe’s reasons for
orchestrating this caper or the ridiculous third-act casino heist. These
developments might be considered clever in a middle-school writing class, but
here, they simply don’t hold water.
Am I being
nitpicky? Perhaps. Is my patience at an
end where unimaginative, studio filmmaking is concerned? Absolutely.
Look, I don’t
expect every movie I see to be a classic, but I don’t think it’s
unreasonable for a film that costs millions of dollars and employs talented
people to, at the very least, deliver a product where a modicum of imagination
and effort are employed. The Pickup is a prime example of the sort of
lazy filmmaking that’s become far too prevalent, indicative of an industry with
the temerity to produce a poor product yet wonder why people continue to ignore
it. Streaming on Amazon Prime.
Gun repeatedly hits its target
With more of its jokes hitting than not, Akiva Schaffer’s The
Naked Gun is a worthy successor to the Leslie Nielsen-led trilogy from the
late 80s-early 90s. Leaning into the absurdity of the franchise, it also has
a retro feel to it, the sets, costuming and sensibility of the original films
replicated to a tee. Perhaps most refreshing is the movie’s running time,
Schaffer and his co-writers Dan Gregor and Doug Mand delivering an under
90-minute entertainment that wisely hits us with one gag after another, taking
care of business quickly without overstaying its welcome.
Though it gets off to a wobbly start with a bank robbery scene
that goes on far too long and seems to belong to a fantasy film rather than a
broad parody, the movie soon rights itself. Frank Drebin Jr. (Liam Neeson)
comes to realize that an apparent suicide is connected to the opening theft,
with all roads leading to tech billionaire Richard Cane (Danny Huston) being
the culprit. It would be a quickly solved case, were anyone other than Drebin
assigned to solve it, and to make matters worse, he becomes distracted by the
alluring Beth Davenport (Pam Anderson). The sister of the alleged suicide
victim, she’s sure Cane is behind her brother’s death and isn’t beyond using
Drebin to achieve her goal.
Everyone understands the assignment, and you can tell all
involved are having a blast. As they did with Neeson, casting normally
dramatic actors in broadly comic roles proves a masterstroke. Seeing Neeson and
Huston let their hair down is a hoot, the movie tough guys playing their roles
to the hilt, delivering one laugh after another. Paul Walter Houser as Drebin’s
partner, Ed Hocken Jr., proves he’s an effective straight man, but it’s Anderson
who’s the revelation here. With crackerjack timing and admirable abandon, the
actress impresses at every turn, a scene in which she pretends to be a scat
singer one of the film’s highlights.
Other moments that work include the extraction of a van from
a lake that goes horribly wrong, Drebin obsessively eating chili dogs despite
his digestive system repeatedly advising him against it, a series of ribald
sight gags during an innocent dinner date, a flirtatious conversation between
Drebin and Davenport filled with double entendres and a running gag revolving
around ever-present cups of coffee.
Whether another entry in the series is in the offing remains
to be seen, yet a sequel as well done as this would be welcome. Comedies are in
short supply at the country’s multiplex, most of the genre’s entries relegated
to streaming services. If nothing else, Gun serves as a reminder of the
pleasure of sharing a collective, infectious laugh in the dark with a theater
full of strangers. In theaters.