Wild to think that I’ve kept this up for 100 entries and two full years (the first edition went up Aug. 3, 2020). Maybe I’ll do some stats on this series when I’ve got time.
Also, since this issue is far from being resolved, you might consider donating to the National Network of Abortion Funds. My native Kansas thankfully voted in favor of reproductive rights, but in other states, the fight must continue.
Prey (2022) – ***½
I have no strong connection to the Predator franchise, having only seen 2010’s Predators, which I remembered enjoying (mainly for Laurence Fishburne), but not so much that I made a point of seeking out the original. As such, I didn’t know until doing my post-viewing research that an item in this film pops up in Predator 2, and there are nuances of Predator behavior whose full significance escaped me. But one of the neat things about Prey is that it works just fine for neophytes; where director Dan Trachtenberg’s previous film, 10 Cloverfield Lane, was a mostly good film diminished by the attempts to make it a franchise film in the final minutes, Prey wastes little time establishing the identity of the alien who comes to Earth to hunt game – but not before establishing its setting and human protagonist.
This being a prequel to the other Predator films, it’s set all the way back in 1719, in the Comanche homelands of the Great Plains (it was filmed in Alberta), and focuses on Naru (Amber Midthunder), who’s eager to prove herself a warrior, but struggles to escape the shadow of her older brother Taabe (Dakota Beavers). While seeking a mountain lion who’s taken a member of their tribe, Naru finds mysterious tracks, and is convinced no creature they’ve ever seen could’ve left them. She has no idea how right she is; a Predator (Dane DiLiegro) has landed nearby and has been hunting the local wildlife.
Tracking the mysterious creature on her own, Naru finally crosses paths with the brutally capable Predator – but she also runs into a group of French fur trappers, who capture her (and Taabe, who’s gone looking for her), and decide, when they learn about the Predator as well, to use Naru and Taabe as bait. But they haven’t reckoned on the Predator’s intelligence – and the Predator hasn’t reckoned on Naru, who may be outmatched in terms of sheer force, but whose resourcefulness just might save her and her people.
Indeed, part of what makes Prey work so well is that it plays fair with us and with the characters. Naru is a capable fighter, but it’s her wits, her ability to observe and learn, her ability to use the terrain and what materials she has to her advantage, that see her through. And Taabe, while he discourages her desire to be a warrior, fully respects her skills as a tracker and a healer – he doubts her not because she’s a girl, but because she hasn’t yet mastered her own fears. Patrick Aison’s script allows the characters to behave like people, which is always refreshing.
Even supporting roles like Naru and Taabe’s mother Aruka (Michelle Thrush) and the trappers’ translator, Raphael Adolini (Bennett Taylor) are allowed some nuances of behavior beyond the tropes their characters embody. Prey may not transcend its genre – hence it being only a mid-high ***½ – but it’s a very good example of it, because it gives us characters worth caring about and a story that’s clear and simple.
As a Predator film, it’s also duty-bound to give us action scenes tinged with horror, and delivers on that; from the eerily low-key scene where the Predator eviscerates a wolf, to the scene where the Predator kills a bear and guts it, allowing the bear’s blood to cascade over their invisible form, to the massacre of several unlucky humans (one is literally diced by a net), the film is sure to make you cringe at least once. But even less graphic scenes, like Naru desperately trying to escape a pit of quicksand, have the right measure of tension, because we’re invested in her and her survival.
Midthunder’s performance is obviously the soul of the film, and a few overly contemporary touches aside, she’s very good, balancing Naru’s drive and insight with her (well-justified) fears of man and Predator alike. Beavers is also quite good as Taabe, suitably cocky without diminishing his love and respect for his sister; Thrush and Taylor do well in their own roles, and DiLiegro, while not giving one of the great pantomime performances, is convincingly brutal and cunning. Also, one must give special credit to Coco, the Carolina dog who plays Naru’s doughty companion, Sarii. She’s a very good girl.
Trachtenberg’s direction suitably balances the character and action beats, Jeff Cutter’s cinematography encompasses the beauty of the landscape (it was shot in Alberta) and the horrific violence to comparable effect, the visual and sound effects are entirely convincing (the Predator’s clicks are especially unsettling), and Sarah Schachner’s score uses raw, discordant strings to evoke the time and place as well as the horrors which permeate the film’s brisk 99 minutes (it’s also quite well edited).
I should note that I tried to watch the Comanche dub of Prey, but found the mismatch with the characters’ mouths too distracting and stuck to the original English-language track, which is sprinkled with a fair amount of Comanche anyway. I’m glad the dub is available, but the original track is probably the best way to watch it.
It would also be nice to have seen it in a theater, but 20th Century Studios put it on Hulu, and if you’ve got Hulu, it’s well worth your time. It’s not a great film, but it’s a good, visceral, intelligently crafted blend of action, suspense, and horror, a welcome showcase for Native American talent and culture, and a very welcome example of a franchise film that works just as well for the uninitiated.
Score: 83
One Hundred and One Dalmatians (1961) – ***½
Unlike Lady and the Tramp and Sleeping Beauty, which I only recall seeing once apiece in my youth, I saw Dalmatians multiple times, and while I hadn’t retained the whole thing, there were a lot of little details which stuck with me: the quivering spots during the opening credits (by far the most inventive credits for a Disney animated feature to date), Pongo engineering a meet-cute between Roger and Anita, Roger nursing one of Pongo and Perdita’s puppies back to life, heartrending moments like Nanny in the street, crying for help, or the puppies trudging through the snow (“my toes are froze”), and the sight of Cruella, eyes blazing with rage, as she pursues the Dalmatians, only to be foiled by her own bumbling henchmen.
Going back to it, I can see its faults. The use of xerography for the animation, with its scratchy line work, may have saved considerable time and money, but it doesn’t have the sheer beauty of the films which came before it. The story feels a little rushed in spots (no pun intended), the characters tend to be on the flat side (Perdita in particular has few facets to her beyond maternal doting), and the very ending feels rushed – it could’ve used a last bit of narration from Pongo to really tie it off.
But I can most certainly see its strengths as well. If the animation lacks the sheer beauty of earlier Disney films, the character animation is delightfully vivid throughout, with the grotesquely glamorous Cruella, the oafish Horace and Jasper, the scruffy Colonel (a Sheepdog) and his sinewy feline sergeant Tibbs* being especially memorable. There are witty visual touches throughout, from the parade of perfectly matched ladies (canine and human) that Pongo observes from his window, to Cruella’s glowing green cigarette smoke, to the way she flings ink all over Roger, spotting him just like the Dalmatians.
And there’s wit in the writing, possibly helped by having just one writer (animated films are more often written by committee) – children’s author and Disney alum Bill Peet, who adapted the Dodie Smith novel. Take the whole angle of the dogs referring to humans as their pets, or the use of the characters’ favorite TV shows to riff on popular culture, be it action-adventure shows in the form of Thunderbolt, or quiz shows in the form of What’s My Crime? (One bit I’d forgotten: the criminal contestant in that show is an old acquaintance of Horace and Jasper).
The characters may be a bit thin, but there are some memorable personalities here, from the blustering old Colonel and the anxiously competent Tibbs to the duo of Horace and Jasper, who might get a bit farther if Jasper ever listened to Horace, to Cruella herself, who has dominated all three of the live-action films based upon this one; you can forget how little we actually learn about her beyond her being rich, totally amoral, and obsessed with fur coats. (You wonder why Anita puts up with her, since there’s no obvious connection between besides having gone to school together.)
Fine voicing acting across the board helps, with Rod Taylor a charming Pongo, Betty Lou Gerson an ear-splittingly arch Cruella, J. Pat O’Malley an obnoxious Jasper (and a blustering but doughty Colonel), Frederick Worlock a bumbling (but observant) Horace, and David Frankham an anxious but doughty Tibbs. Top it off with George Bruns’ delightful score and Mel Leven’s songs, most notably the wonderful “Cruella de Vil,” and you’ve got a very solid slice of family entertainment.
Yes, it’s a step down from the previous two films, and yes, it’s a damn shame we’ve never had an adaptation of The Starlight Barking, the incredibly bizarre-sounding sequel to the original novel, and yes, that was Jock and that was Peg from Lady in the Tramp making split-second cameos. It’s a very charming film which reminds me of my childhood. What more needs to be said?
Score: 82
*When I saw In the Heat of the Night, the name “Virgil Tibbs” always sounded odd to me, and “Mister Tibbs” (as they call him) sounded more like a name for a cat than a badass police detective. I was likely unconsciously remembering the good Sergeant.
This week is looking a bit thin – let’s watch some more shorts!
- Broken Earth (1939*) – Hollywood photographer Roman Freulich and Black character actor Clarence Muse teamed up to make this short film about a poor sharecropper (Muse) whose young son, Joshua, is seriously ill. When Joshua takes a turn for the worse, Muse prays desperately, and the boy stirs back to life. A simple anecdote, fleshed out with an eye for detail (the grave of Muse’s wife is marked by the simplest cross), a soundtrack full of spirituals – most notably “All God’s Chillun Got Wings” and “A City Called Heaven” – and Muse’s heartfelt performance, which powerfully conveys the protagonist’s strength, weariness, hopes, fears, and deep faith. (*A number of sources list this as a 1936 film, but the film itself carries a 1939 copyright.) Score: 84 – ***½
- Zupa (1974) – A Polish short about a young married couple (Grazyna and Marek Kreusch), making use of luridly tinted live-action footage, shredded into surreality with an optical printer, to create a Gilliamesque dreamscape with distorted sound, repetition, nudity, and soup. It’s very cool to look at and listen to, and while I’m not sure it really says that much (I couldn’t tell you if it was trying), the technique is nifty enough to make it well worth checking out. Will definitely seek out more by Zbigniew Rybczynski. Score: 80 – ***½
- Take Five (1972) – When I saw that Rybczynski made a film of the Dave Brubeck standard, I knew I had to check it out- that was, after all, one of the first jazz pieces I really loved. Most of it consists of odd dancing by Marek Kreusch and Aleksandra Król (who seem almost to be doing The Robot), heavily sped-up, tinted, and superimposed, the result being a rainbow of young Poles contorting themselves to Brubeck’s wonderful music, though not quite in tune with it. But once the drums kick in, Rybczynski takes things in a different direction, and it grows more fragmented and surreal until the final, mellower bars. Again, it feels a bit more like a neat technical exercise than a cohesive vision, but it’s fun. Score: 77 – ***½
- Time Piece (1965) – Jim Henson earned the only Oscar nomination of his career for this absurdist short, about the syncopated life of a young man (Henson), in which he plays Tarzan, has his head served on a platter, goes to a strip club (the film has a risqué streak – there’s also a direct allusion to Tom Jones), and more. Frank Oz plays several bit parts, including a gorilla on a pogo stick; that’s the kind of movie it is. It’s quite fun, displaying Henson’s invention and wit, matched neatly to Don Sebesky’s jazzy score. And the restoration I watched on Mubi looks wonderful, with bright, crisp colors. Score: 85 – ***½
Bodies Bodies Bodies (2022) – ***½
Yes, yet another film lands in the ***½ range – that range from “solidly above average” to “just shy of great” – and I wonder if it’s me (never mind that I watched two **** films last week), or if I’m just consistently picking movies that impress me without blowing me away. Or maybe I just get too hung up on ratings. Probably I do.
Anyway, Bodies Bodies Bodies is a pretty good film, but I can’t help thinking it wants to be a bit more provocative than it really is and weakens itself when it takes a stab (pun intended?) at overt cultural satire, while the rest of the film generally allows the humor to come organically from the characters and situations. That the humor does come through is a testament to the strength of the writing and the acting, but the writing pushes its luck and stumbles, just enough to keep from rising higher on my own scale.
Sophie (Amandla Stenberg) and her girlfriend Bee (Maria Bakalova) travel to the palatial home of David (Pete Davidson), Sophie’s life-long friend who’s hosting a hurricane party (yes, they’re a thing) with a number of their mutual friends, including Jordan (Myha’la Herrold), Emma (Chase Sui Wonders), and Alice (Rachel Sennott), who’s brought her boyfriend Greg (Lee Pace). As the storm arrives and the partiers indulge in drugs and alcohol (except for the newly-sober Sophie), tensions among the group begin to percolate.
Sophie suggests playing “Bodies Bodies Bodies,” a guess-the-murderer game akin to Werewolf, but during the guessing phase, the accusations among the supposed friends turn sour, and the game is called off. Not long after, the power goes out and one of them turns up with their throat cut, forcing the others to “play” the game for real. But as old resentments and secrets bubble to the surface and the blood continues to flow, it may just be enough for the survivors to live out the night.
Obviously, I can’t tell you who dies and whodunnit, and trying to trace the intricacies of the friends’ dynamic here would be far less rewarding than watching the very capable cast perform it. And certainly, I can’t easily put into words how director Halina Rejin (this is her second feature and her first in English) creates considerable tension from the volatile atmosphere within the house and the raging storm outside. Suffice to say, you fully believe that any one of these people could’ve been the murderer, and you believe that they’ll all tear each other apart to find out who.
The fragility of our social structures, and how they crumble in such scenarios, is hardly a new theme, and perhaps that’s why Sarah DeLappe’s script (based on a script by Kristen Roupenian) pushes – dare I say strains – to check some topical boxes. I feared, based on the insufferable first trailer, that the whole film would match the tone of the tagline “This is not a safe space,” but for most of the film those quips are relatively few and far between. But there is one scene late in the film, filled with recriminations and revelations, that lays on the Gen Z buzzwords with a trowel, and it’s pretty tiresome.
The film never totally recovers – or maybe I didn’t – and the final scenes, especially the final revelation, don’t pack much of a punch. The performances are still there, and the filmmaking is still solid, but the story pulls a muscle, so to speak. So it goes. (Ready or Not stuck the landing better and put across its themes of class imbalance more effectively.)
Stenberg, playing the character we’re most inclined to trust, does a good job playing with those expectations without betraying the character’s integrity. Bakalova, while not as wonderful as she was in the second Borat, likewise plays well with our inclination to not trust her character, and also conveys Bee’s sense of isolation – she’s the biggest outlier of the group, being the only non-American and knowing only Sophie beforehand. Herrold effectively conveys a hostility that might just be justified, while Sennott (coming off her own great performance in Shiva Baby) plays the broadest character of the bunch, and clearly has fun with it.
Pace is suavely incongruous, being a generation older than most of the cast, and Davidson, whom I keep assuming I don’t like, does do pretty well in a role that mainly adheres to his smirking smart-ass persona. I’m not sure if Wonders is really the weak link of the cast, or if she just gets a bit overshadowed; she does do a decent job, but I mainly remember her character inspiring at least two references to Hedda Gabler, which I certainly didn’t expect.
Disasterpiece provides another solid score, coming off Marcel the Shell; there’s also an original song, “Hot Girl” by Charli XCX, that plays over the end credits, and sounded decently catchy. I’ll vet it for my awards. Speaking of which, this being a film with ample bloodshed, there’s some solid makeup work on display. Nothing revolutionary, but it certainly gets the job done. I feel like I should have more to say about this film than I do, even without giving any of its secrets away, but I don’t. It’s solid and I enjoyed it fairly well the once. But Ready or Not is still better.
Score: 80
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