Paterson

Year: 2016
Genre: Drama
Directed: Jim Jarmusch
Stars: Adam Driver, Golshifteh Farahani, Rizwan Manji, Barry Shabaka Henley, Chasten Harmon, William Jackson Harper, Trevor Parham, Tony T. Parham, Method Man, Sophia Muller, Masatoshi Nagase, Kara Hayward
Production: Amazon Studios

Whether or not Paterson leaves an impression on you is almost beside the point. The movie, through its austere prose, deliberate cinematography and languishing pace has all the hallmarks of director Jim Jarmusch's other films. To the uninitiated it can feel rather insular; yet Paterson draws attention to itself precisely because it doesn't draw attention to itself. It stands like a plain segment of brick, waiting for you to paint your own feelings and experiences on top of it.

Paterson surmises the week in the life of a quiet Paterson, New Jersey bus driver coincidentally named Paterson (Driver). In addition to quietly eavesdropping on the occupants of his quaint city bus, our protagonist spends his lunch hour sitting on a park bench silently writing poetry in his "secret notebook". His girlfriend Laura (Farahani) insists he makes copies of his work but Paterson's vacant look hides the fact he probably never will.

His poetry randomly emerges in big block lettering as Paterson recites in the midst of deep thought. The film further captures Paterson's serenity juxtaposing his face with carefully composed frames of the everyday. "I go through trillions of molecules, that move aside to make way for me. While on both sides, trillions more stay where they are." The sights, the sounds, the words; all create a collage of pulchritude.

Yet despite a veneer of sparse beauty, Paterson can't help but drive into certain narrative potholes. In the past, Jarmusch's ascetic style gelled with the quixotism of modern culture largely because his characters had some form of agency. If you were to compare Ghost Dog (1999) to Don in Broken Flowers (2005) you'd realize that the internal conflicts are brought about by external forces. This is not the case in Paterson. Paterson, listlessly wades through his life, tittering through the patterns and coincidences that surround him while assuming nothing. He's an empty vessel; a character who exemplifies the gentle drone of everyday existence. A canvass in which we see our own common foibles.

Robert Bresson: 1901-1999

Jarmusch seems to be pushing the knobs and turning the dials in Robert Bresson's old wheelhouse. That in itself wouldn't be a problem though, Bresson's clarity of thought always seemed to shine through his blank-slated characters and minimalist milieu. Jarmusch's style, as fastidious as it is has always struck me as a little too in it's own head. Ironic since Bresson was once dubbed the patron saint of cinema and Jarmusch seems to want the title of guru. Paterson especially, with visually implied spirituality and animism wants its audience to find deeper meanings in its pastiche form of zen.

It's a tall order to appreciate the ineffable wisdom of everyday life in any capacity, let alone in a movie. And while Paterson succeeds in sections, the key interactions between Paterson and Laura leaves far too much unsaid. Laura is never given much of a life outside of their working-class bungalow. When not baking cupcakes for the weekend's farmer's market, Laura paints, stitches and strums on her guitar while Paterson silently indulges her whimsical fantasies.

While some may deride their living situation as retrograde, the larger problem is a lack of basic humanity on Paterson's part. As written, our protagonist can't help but feel less like a person than a foreign force, interminably out of place in Laura's warmth. When Paterson says he's working on a poem for her, Laura responds, "Is it a love poem?" to which he responds "It's written for you, so I guess that makes it a love poem." His glibness is hardly the stuff of finding beauty in the minuscule.

My impression of this movie.

Yet as I said, this movie isn't too concerned about whether it leaves an impression. Like water it can either wash over you, you thinking nothing of it, or it can erode you to your very core. Liking Paterson arguably says more about you than it says about the film. In my opinion watching a guy working his bus route, scribbling in his notebook and harboring animus for his girlfriend's dog is hardly worth two hours and ten dollars.

Final Grade: C+

Gold

Year: 2016
Genre: Drama
Directed: Stephen Gaghan
Stars: Matthew McConaughey, Edgar Ramirez, Bryce Dallas Howard, Corey Stoll, Toby Kebbell, Bill Camp, Joshua Harto, Timothy Simons, Graig T. Nelson, Macon Blair, Adam LeFevre, Frank Wood, Michael Landes, Rachael Taylor
Production: Black Bear Pictures

In many ways, Gold is very similar to the recently released The Founder. Both stories are about a singularly persistent fella who finds his fortunes on a hunch. Early on, a lot of plans are foiled by inflexible thinking, people live to rue the day they underestimated their opponent and our protagonist eventually changes and lost to the corruptible powers of fame and fortune. Yet the difference between the two films is while The Founder is clipped by problems of unfocused narrative, divergent themes and clumsy directing, Gold crashes and burns under the force of those same problems.

See what happens when you steal from someone else?

Gold tells the story of a scrappy Nevada prospecting firm privately owned through the years by three generations of gold hunters. After five years of running the place, CEO Kenny Wells (McConaughey), struggles to honor the name of his belated father (Nelson) and grandfather. Down on his luck, Wells pawns his girlfriend's (Howard) jewelry and makes buy-in calls from a local tavern to make ends meet. Then, in a whiskey induced haze, Wells has a vivid dream about a thicket of Indonesian jungle. He wakes up convinced he can find gold in them thar hills and recruits the only geologist (Ramirez) wily enough to chance an excavation. "The last card you turn over, is the only card that matters," says the mad-eyed Wells. And his last card just may be the biggest gold find of all time.

Gold! GOLD!!!

Much of the film's charm relies on McConaughey's bravura performance as the bumpkin-like Kenny. Bearing false teeth, a beer gut and a bald patch, Kenny completely lacks the physical or professional attributes needed to stratify the American class system. "It's like a raccoons got a hold of the Hope Diamond," says Corey Stoll's investment banker character. A metaphor that describes not only the conflict between Kenny and the powers that be but McConaughey and this movie.

The movie in this case is the raccoon, which has no idea what it's doing with such a committed performance. It uneasily treads the plotting of a rags-to-riches story then loses itself in second-rate heist movie entanglements and airless buddy comedy cliches. All the while it keeps darting up through the tall grass waiting for audiences to respond with the same gasps they would be uttering if they were watching, say, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948).

Yeah sorry movie, comparing you to the Humphrey Bogart staple is like comparing Citizen Kane (1941) to Other People's Money (1991). The narrative is so disjointed, the themes mined of all substance and the supporting characters feel robbed of any defining characteristics. Meanwhile the cinematography, while decent in parts, can't find a unifying tone let alone real human character amid lush jungle and McConaughey's bilious scenery chewing.

It's all so morally convoluted as well. The film tries to setup Kenny as a working-class hero while simultaneously building itself as a movie against accumulating wealth for wealth's sake. Kenny takes great strides to elevate his profession; waxing poetically about the nobility of gold prospecting as if it were a quasi-religious affirmation. His fidelity to those he works with, his family's legacy, not to mention the movie's constant willingness to portray him as an underdog, all point to a character worth rooting for. Yet I ask, how honorable is such a character when, within the context of the movie, all his decisions are made for the purpose of ego and saving face?

It becomes even more disgusting when you consider everything in the context of history. The real story of Bre-X Minerals (based in Calgary, Canada not Reno), is one of unsurpassed fraud. Fraud that resulted in billions of dollars lost including the pilfering of several public pension funds and retirement boards. The real life owners of Bre-X (for which Kenny is a composite) all claimed their innocence at the time despite finding refuge in The Bahamas and The Caymans respectively.

As a story of rags-to-riches, a story of fraud and a story based on real events, Gold all but fails to live up to its name. It is instead, a hollow, boring and long movie that leans heavily on McConaughey's hooting and hollering to carry it through to the end. My advice: if you want to see a better McConaughey performance that gives complex real-life events a simplistic but satisfying narrative - watch Dallas Buyers Club (2013) instead.

Final Grade: D

Resident Evil: The Final Chapter

Year: 2017
Genre: Action
Directed: Paul W.S. Anderson
Stars: Milla Jovovich, Iain Glen, Ali Larter, Shawn Roberts, Eoin Macken, Fraser James, Ruby Rose, William Levy, Rola, Ever Anderson, Mark Simpson, Milton Schorr, Joon-Gi Lee
Production: Screen Gems

Resident Evil (2002-2017) as a film series feels often times like a morose, little rubiks cube. Every time one installment succeeds in building a singularly satisfying story thread, it sputters out and crashes against the realities of its budget. If there happens to be enough gore to appease genre fans, there isn't enough frights, if there's passable character development, there's sloppy editing - and so on, and so on. What results are often singular movies that fail to be in any sense passable but still manage in some form or another to be entertaining.

Pictured: The newest crop of dead meat.

The Final Chapter is certainly no exception to Resident Evil's dubious track record. In a pass/fail sense, the film fails to offer fresh thrills or frights, competent directing, real looking monsters or characters worth rooting for. Instead it offers up the same grimy fretwork fans expect, except shot like the cameraman was in the throws of an epileptic seizure. Haphazardly stapling it all together, is the singular Milla Jovovich whose performance is the only consistently passable linchpin holding this entire series together. Unfortunately after fifteen years in the role of Alice, Jovovich's character has been diluted to that of a Xena-like mannequin with a steely glare and a unique ability to grunt "why should I trust you?"

Thing is, if taken in piecemeal, there are small segments of Final Chapter that aren't rotten to the zombiefied core. Immediately standing out is a show-stopping action set-piece involving a motorcycle, a tank and an army of the undead. The entire sequence, which had Jovovich and reoccurring baddy Dr. Isaacs (Glen) trading fists, conjured up faint memories of the bizarro 80's disaster Warrior of the Lost World (1983). Considering this entire series is a quilt of faded versions of better movies, it's surprising to see ideas lifted from bad movies suddenly made better.

Warrior of the Lost World (1983)

That along with a progression of plot reveals in the last half-hour, make The Final Chapter among the best Resident Evil has to offer. Fans of the long decaying sextet will no doubt rejoice that the movie (despite its loose connection to the game series), finally delivers on all its long-gestating mythology. I'm just glad it's over period.

Final Grade: F

A Dog's Purpose

Year: 2017
Genre: Drama
Directed: Lasse Hallstrom
Stars: Josh Gad, Dennis Quaid, Peggy Lipton K.J. Apa, Bryce Gheisar, Juliet Rylance, Luke Kirby, Gabrielle Rose, Michael Bofshever, Britt Robertson, Kirby Howell-Baptiste, Pooch Hall, John Ortiz, Nicole LaPlaca
Production: Amblin Entertainment

A Dog's Purpose comes to it's audience with what it thinks is a fun and novel high-concept - follow the history of an ever-living consciousness as it moves from one vessel to another; learning lessons along the way. The reincarnated "soul" in this movie in this case, always comes back as a dog. A dog whose inner monologue (Gad) seems a lot more worried about its purpose than most."What is the meaning of life? What is my purpose? And how does bacon fit in?" he says in a sappy attempt to win us over. Sad truth is it works.

The thing is if you're not automatically rubbed the wrong way by the film's incessantly mawkish tone, you're probably going to end up liking A Dog's Purpose. It gushes like the gooey center of a deep-fried Oreo and often feels twice as sweet. It floats on pecan-pie dreams, propelled by Josh Gad's buttery voice work and topped with enough cheese to kill an elephant. A lot of it may be due to humanity's deep attachment to their pets but when the film's pack of trained animals do their thing, hearts just seem to melt.

Human emotion? What's that?

Where the film fails and fails miserably is in its human moments. The soul, as it were, glides through the lives of five dogs in total, finding its name and its formative spirit in a Labrador Retriever named Baily. His owner Ethan (Gheisar) is a little boy whose innocent adolescent hijinks would scream Norman Rockwell if not for his alcoholic father (Kirby). The interactions between the teenage Ethan (Apa), his mother (Rylance), his father, his girlfriend (Robertson) etc. are downright embryonic. Instead of letting the slowly festering wounds of the father be portrayed as human, the film sees him as nothing more than a cancer that must be cut. "After that night, Ethan became the head of the pack," says Baily; just after the film forces an emotional coda.

It's a problem of perspective. A Dog's Purpose constrains itself to the point of view of the dog as the dog. As far as Buddy knows, he's never been anything else which sets him apart from say Fluke (1995) or Oh Heavenly Dog (1980). Therefore every nuance of social and emotional development on the part of the humans is seen without any context. Necking in the car becomes a search for food, driving away becomes a game of fetch and going up a woman's skirt becomes a search for biscuits. It's a fun exercise for a short story maybe, but it hardly works as basis of a two hour movie.

The problem becomes worse over the course of the movie and throughout Baily's other lives. The owners of Ellie and Milo (the third and fourth reincarnations) are portrayed as sad-sacks drifting in and out of life. When Maya (Howell-Baptiste) actually finds some form of happiness, (i.e. a man) the movie trips itself over streams of maudlin and montage. While the movie does get brownie points for displaying precious little of the human condition visually, the deeper wells of all possible emotion are left untapped leaving only a trickle of dog slobber.

Baily, then Ellie, then Milo, the Buddy comes to understand the meaning of family, the notion of loyalty and the attachment that humans feel towards their dogs. While doing so he ponders if this is indeed the real deal; the real purpose to his existence. Ironically it takes him five lifetimes to learn what humans do in one and cats seem to know innately; Be there for the ones you love. It's ironic because most the time, he's literally chained to them.

Final Grade: D+

The Founder

Year: 2017
Genre: Drama
Directed: John Lee Hancock
Stars: Michael Keaton, Nick Offerman, John Carroll Lynch, Linda Cardellini, B.J. Novak, Laura Dern, Kate Kneeland, Patrick Wilson, Justin Randell Brooke, Griff Furst, Wilbur Fitzgerald, David de Vries, Andrew Benator, Cara Mantella
Production: FilmNation Entertainment

Everyone loves a showman.

Hollywood has always had a complicated relationship with biographies based on entrepreneurs. On the one hand, film as an industry adores innovation; both in front of, and behind the screen. Sure the industry has a propensity to navel-gaze, has a somewhat dysfunctional, insular and dare I say incestuous relationship with itself, its resources, its talent and (cough, cough) it's accounting standards. Yet aside from some notable exceptions, the message we hear all the time coming out of Hollywood is: no matter who you are if you got talent, persistence and a bit of an ego, you can succeed in La La Land.

Greed is an alternative fact.

Yet whenever Hollywood points its magnifying glass elsewhere, at other industries, at other innovators, it becomes less about the innovation and more about corruption, avarice and ruination. If one were to draw a line through the skin-deep themes of The Wolf of Wall Street (2013), The Social Network (2010) and Steve Jobs (2015), you'd have an outline that says "GREED IS BAD" in big bold letters.

The Founder tries to be a different kind beast. It tries to have its Big Mac and eat it too which is saying something, considering the one thing you can say about Steve Jobs and Mark Zuckerberg as at least they're not as craven as Ray Kroc. The film begins with Kroc (Keaton), desperately trying to unload milkshake machines into the laps of unwilling restaurateurs. His pitch is rehearsed, enthusiastic but slimy to the core; "are you familiar with the concept of the chicken and the egg," he starts. Most don't let him finish. He's the type of traveling salesman "Cat's in the Cradle" by Harry Chapin was probably dedicated to.

One day, while checking his messages, Kroc comes across an unusually large milkshake machine order from a San Bernadino burger joint called McDonalds. Curious, Kroc stops by McDonalds; a journey that takes him through a Midwest full of mediocre drive-ins with slovenly food and long wait times. Then he gets his taste of his first McDonalds hamburger in 30 seconds flat sitting on a park bench. His response to the owners Dick (Offerman) and Mac (Lynch) McDonalds, "franchise, franchise, franchise."

Yes it's true Kroc never came up with the McDonald's brand; he never came up with the concept of fast food, the automation system in which that food is prepared, the company's fidelity to the all-American hamburger or, heck, even the name. Yet the movie portrays his embrace and rapid expansion of those ideas as an innovation in itself. He covets the McDonalds name as if it was a painting and he the artist. Every cent of capital, Kroc uses to build franchises nationwide. He even uses his home as collateral. Truly, he's the quintessential obsessive rogue we've all come to learn to admire.

He all but convinces us, the audience that he is deserving of the title "Founder". Yet the movie stops just short of being a working-class screed on the magic of capitalism. For one, the temperament of the McDonald's brothers and their "parade of no's," clings to the usual humdrum highlights we've seen done better in other films. Yet their impression on the film looms so large that most audiences will presumably walk away with the same "GREED IS BAD" message the film is trying to sidestep. They're the small guys, they're the ones who believe in quality control, they're the ones who keep high ethical standards - thus you best believe they're also going to get squelched by the time the film is over.

As the swindle is a matter of public record, its hard to fault a movie for being, you know, true. And had the movie leaned into an anti-avarice message, it may have approached the quality of a bonafide Oscar contender. But it didn't - and instead draws a picture of Ray Kroc that glinted with a Hollywood sheen rather than harsh lighting. Considering the subject, I would have rather the movie cooked him over a hot grill.

Final Grade: C

Thoughts from the Usher Podium: Oscar Snubs 2017

So the Academy Award nominations came out today, and as usual, I'm disappointed. As to be expected, Academy voters unduly rewarded a host of lackluster, yet strategically launched Award Season bait at the expense of some very fine movies. In so doing they knowingly tipped their hat toward their favorite going in, with a record tying fourteen nominations. That favorite by the way, is a crowd-pleasing retro-chic musical about the magic of Hollywood; wow what a stretch you guys.

Gotta love movies about movies...

Of course, as the proverbial saying goes, "opinions are like a**holes, everyone's got one." So before I delve in to tell you where everyone but me went wrong, let me just say congratulations to all the nominees. Instead of dwelling a lot on Award Season mistakes (Lion got six nominations? Are you high?), I'm instead going to give the limelight to a couple of people and productions who definitely deserve...something.

Best Song: "Drive It Like You Stole It" from Sing Street

I suppose it was a bit of a longshot to think Sing Street, an early spring release, would get anything from the Academy. But if it were to be nominated for anything it should have been for Best Song. Admit it, the song, written by John Carney and Adam Levine has all you could want from an anthem of youthful indiscretion. I suppose there's a consolation in knowing the film was nominated for a surprise Golden Globe.

Best Documentary: The Eagle Huntress

I'm actually pleasantly surprised by the nominee roster in this category. A category that includes fiery social justice documentaries I Am Not Your Negro and 13th, both of which I was sure were too controversial to slip in. Yet while I'm happy the Academy is actually recognizing black filmmakers like Raoul Peck and Ava DuVernay, I am a little disappointed they didn't also pick up The Eagle Huntress. Sure it's a little feel good in its sensibilities but damn if it wasn't a beautifully shot and compellingly told little doc.

Best Adapted Screenplay: Hunt for the Wilderpeople

If you thought Sing Street was a longshot that nearly no one had seen, Hunt for the Wilderpeople's was definitely out there in the tall weeds. Yet for those who have actually seen this film, it was, to put it mildly, an undeniable gem. The story of an adopted son and father roughing it in the woods is based on the novel "Wild Pork and Watercress" by Barry Crump and it has to be one of the funniest, most intricate and innately human stories ever put to film. And while I promised not to speak ill of current nominees (again congratulations), the category of Best Adapted Screenplay could use some buffing up.

Captain America: Civil War for Best Visual Effects

Speaking of buffing up - why no love for Captain America? Out of all the superhero movies this year, Civil War is certainly the most deserving of at least one slot in a category that usually doles out participation trophies for it's ilk; i.e. Best Sound Mixing, Sound Editing or Visual Effects. Once you've seen the airport fight scene for the second time (or in my case the thirtieth), you have to admit the visual effects deserve some freakin' recognition.

Hailee Steinfeld for Best Actress in The Edge of Seventeen

This young lady portrayed a bratty, self-centered jerk of a teenager and still managed to bring the character back off the edge of un-likability and into our hearts. While doing so, Hailee Steinfeld also exposed a lot of deep truthes about growing up. Steinfeld already has a nomination under her belt with True Grit (2010) so here's to hoping she'll be graced with Oscar glory again soon.

Annette Bening for Best Actress in 20th Century Women

 Unlike a lot of people/movies on this list, Annette Bening was considered a sure thing. Blame it on 20th Century Women's late season start and dainty box office legs I guess.

The Handmaiden for Best Foreign Film

The Handmaiden was on the shortlist of so many critics' Best of the Year lists. Why oh why was it not nominated? Oh right, because the country of origin (in this case South Korea) needed to nominate it. And what did push forward instead of Chan Wook-Park's sultry period film? Kim Jee-Woon's The Age of Shadows instead. Psh, Oscars.

Elle for Best Foreign Language Film

While we're on the subject of Foreign language films, what is the Academy's excuse for not nominating Elle? They nominated Isabelle Huppert for Lead Actress so it only makes sense to have film also in the Foreign Film category. My guess for the exclusion is the subject matter. While Huppert may have done a fearless job as a rape victim seeking (kinda) revenge, most Academy voters probably couldn't stomach the movie itself.

The Neon Demon for Best Production Design

Admittedly I was not a fan of this film. Nor am I part of Nicolas Winding Refn's film school acolytes who elevate the director's mis en scene to the near perfection of Stanley Kubrick. Yet I have to admit, the Production Design for this movie was downright fierce.

Aaron Taylor-Johnson for Best Supporting Actor in Nocturnal Animals

I suppose I understand the inclusion of Michael Shannon in this category instead of Aaron Taylor-Johnson. Michael Shannon has been paying his dues garnering a personal brand as an actor's actor. Aaron Taylor-Johnson on the other hand is fairly new within Award Season circles. Still, considering Taylor-Johnson was not just nominated but won the Golden Globe a few weeks ago, it's a huge surprise he wasn't nominated this morning. I say, why not have both?

The Nice Guys for Best Original Screenplay

 Oh Shane Black - despite having a recognizable name, brand and style all you own, I think you're destined for a life of unrecognized greatness. While The Nice Guys may not be on par with Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang (2005) it's certainly strong enough as a script to deserve accolades. Here's to hoping director/writer Shane Black will have another chance at the brass ring when the sequel (hopefully) comes around.

Sausage Party for Best Animated Movie

If Anomalisa (2015) was nominated for Best Animated Feature than Sausage Party deserves a slot too. Repeat after me: "animated films are not just for children!"

A Monster Calls for Best Visual Effects

A Monster Calls on the other hand was for children. Yet its rather dour themes and fable-like story probably turned off the few Academy voters that went to see it. It wasn't nominated for anything though with that in my mind, the visual effects are impeccably on point.

Martin Scorsese for Best Director in Silence

I guess there are some places even diehard fans and media intelligentsia won't go. While Silence was billed as a passion project for the eight-time nominated director Martin Scorsese, Academy voters decided to all but shut out the sincere film of faith. In-fact it was only nominated for one Award: Best Cinematography.

Tom Hanks for Best Actor in Sully

Perhaps the movie came out a bit too soon after the dubbed "Miracle on the Hudson," or perhaps Academy voters couldn't stomach giving the great master Clint Eastwood, yet another notch on his belt. Either way Tom Hanks and the cast and crew of Sully will have to sit this year out. But hey, at least we got Toy Story 4 to look forward to!

Keegan-Michael Key for Best Supporting Actor in Don't Think Twice

2016 was a pretty good year for tiny indie films and Don't Think Twice is arguably one of the tiniest. Yet the story of an improv troupe struggling to accept one member's sudden success has enough meat on the bone to deserve a little recognition from the Academy. And that recognition should be perched squarely on the shoulders of Keegan-Michael Key who plays that one successful actor in a pool of gifted amateurs. If you haven't watched Don't Think Twice, check it out, and I'm sure you'll agree Key deserves some love here.

Closet Monster for Best Makeup
Not going to lie, the makeup was just okay. I just want an excuse to bump Suicide Squad off the list. Seriously, Suicide Squad was nominated for a f***ing Oscar! 

For real?!

Split

Year: 2017
Genre: Horror
Director: M. Night Shymalan
Stars: James McAvoy, Anya Taylor-Joy, Haley Lu Richardson, Jessica Sula, Betty Buckley, Izzie Coffey, Brad William Henke, Neal Huff, M. Night Shymalan, Brian Gildea
Production: Blumhouse Productions

The works of M. Night Shymalan are certainly an acquired taste. A taste that has not been acquired by mainstream American audiences for the better part of seventeen years if we're being totally honest. Make a short list of movies that have angered audiences with misplaced pretension and/or rug-pulling twists that don't make sense, and you're liable to find the directors name all over it. Yet much like fake news, ska music and smallpox, his personal clout and unique mix of genre tropes are having themselves a bit of a comeback. And nowhere is that more evident than in his newest film Split.

Split's main conceit; the mysteries of the human mind, are exemplified by the traumatized Kevin (McAvoy) who becomes our villain of sorts. His psychoanalyst Dr. Fletcher (Buckley) believes he possesses 23 distinct personalities, all of whom vary in age, gender, interests, mannerisms, personal histories and even body chemistry. This of course comes as a shock to three teenage girls who have been taken hostage by one or more of Kevin's personalities, many of whom have a cult-like obsession or fear of "The Beast" the rumored 24th. While huddled in a locked basement awaiting their fates, the three girls must decide which personalities to trust while keeping their eyes peeled for ways to escape.

LOL, hilarious!

With Split, it seems that Shymalan has finally accepted the fact that he'll never be anything more than a B-movie director. A brief look at his filmography reveals that even at his worst, Shymalan has used the same sophisticated visual vocabulary and affinity for psychological pablum as Hitchcock. Yet much like using a pipe wrench for an oil change, Shymalan's work doesn't come with the same sophistication or practical applications. Shymalan's fateful decision to eschew big-budget projects like The Last Airbender (2010) for smaller genre-niche movies has yielded some objectively better results over the last few years. He's still using the exact same formula that made him a household name, only now his clumsiness is seen as endearing or quirky in smaller movies. If one were to compare the found-footage proclivities of The Visit (2015) to the horrifyingly excessive The Happening (2008), you'd realize that the only real difference, is one actually knows it's a black comedy.

Split is simply more of the same - ominous atmospherics, pseudo-religious iconography, quasi-Jungian pop psychology and excessive brooding, all dialed up to eleven. Clearly never learning from his mistakes, Shymalan has also speckled in wind-baggy in-world explanations and redundant plot information, all but guaranteeing that audiences will burst out in laughter before they cower in fear. Add to all that a complete inability to marry his technical abilities with a unifying tone and you got yourself a carnival full of cheap tricks and cheaper thrills.

Aiding in this carnival act is James McAvoy whose campy performance is fun to watch, if for no other reason than its so far beyond the pail of plausibility. Kevin is one of those characters that most actors secretly dream of doing because, while they may be broad and even offensive, they do supply facets of an actor's range. Plus, by the time one of the kidnap victims opens the files on all the personalities, Kevin's kinship to those suffering from Dissociative identity disorder (DID) is about as tangential as Pure Flix's kinship is to Christianity.

Pure Flix Entertainment: similar but very much not the same!

Out of all of Kevin's victims, Anya Taylor-Joy's outsider Casey has the easiest time adjusting to Kevin's solipsistic creep vacuum, allowing her characters lack of character, color the background like the blank stare of a China doll. Her background, parceled in segments, does give reason for this; reasons that ultimately endear her to her kidnapper/s in the most unsettling of ways. While some may see her eventual fortitude as a source of strength, her inherent lack of agency throughout just reeks of exploitation.

By the end of the film, our fully-realized villain purports to bring salvation through suffering. Yet when you realize that you're not watching a bizzaro girls-in-peril kidnap movie but something else entirely, the suffering just becomes too unbearable.

Final Grade: D-