Sarah Hamernick

Jean-Marc Vallee directs the biographical film written by Nick Hornby, Wild. This film is based on the memoir, Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail, written by Cheryl Strayed. Vallee’s Dallas Buyers Club last year elicited two Oscar-winning performances, setting a high standard for Reese Witherspoon in the lead role and Laura Dern as supporting. However, with the help of Vallee’s cunning direction, the actors give award-worthy performances and the story ascends one of self-awareness and acceptance of the things we cannot change. It highlights the struggles of finding our identity in the shadow of tragedy. But most of all, it highlights the talent of Witherspoon and Vallee.

Wild follows Cheryl Strayed (Witherspoon) as she travels the Pacific Crest Trail searching for a meaning to her tangled life. Divorce from Cheryl’s abusive father leaves her mother (Dern) struggling to regain the years she has lost. She is working to get her GED and put their life back together as she is struck with the news of terminal cancer. This leaves Cheryl to step into her mother’s role and abandon the success to which she is striving. After the death of her mother and the responsibilities become too much, Cheryl’s life plunges into chaos. She descends into a life of drug use and, despite her marriage, promiscuity. As Cheryl lets go of the cares of life, her relationships begin to deteriorate, particularly with her husband. Although it is clear that they care for each other, Cheryl’s emotional absence leads them to divorce. This is the turning point at which she decides to change something. She decides to trek the thousand miles across all types of terrain through the PCT. She encounters others with similar journeys and comes face to face with some of her own demons.

Wild is packed with powerful metaphors. Cheryl literally carries around her baggage on her back, in the form of an enormous backpack filled with hiking supplies. As she begins her journey, her pack is completely full. She struggles to even get it off the ground. Her baggage is so overwhelming she has to lie down to even attempt to pick it up. She walks, with the highway at her side at first. With surrender so close, Cheryl pushes on carrying her pack. When she approaches her first check point on the trail, she receives a warm welcome. Some of the more experienced hikers help her unload her bag and pick out the things she can leave behind, thus ridding her of some of the weight and making it easier to withstand. Along with her pack and fellow hikers, the animals she encounters on her journey also play an important role, all representing certain struggles and challenging Cheryl to overcome them. Like a fox that she meets several times taunting her along her journey.

The stand-out achievement of Wild is the career-defining performances given by Reese Witherspoon and Laura Dern. Their talent, combined with Vallee’s, allow this film to reach its full potential. Witherspoon delivers her most powerful performance, capturing the plights of Cheryl with ferocity, compassion, and grit. The unabashed honesty, with which the story is told, elevates Wild into Oscar contention. Although a film about a woman walking through the desert may seem dull, Witherspoon has no problem holding the attention of her audience. The sweeping landscapes and flashbacks add to help the story flow. Instead of a linear story about how Cheryl wound up at the PCT, we start with her already in the thick of it and go back to find out more. The star of the flashbacks is definitely Dern. She delivers an impactful and dignified performance. Wild is introspective and engaging, giving Witherspoon and Vallee space to flex their impressive talents.

Jennifer Kent wrote and directed the Australian horror film, The Babadook. Based on the short film, also by Kent, The Babadook rose to critical acclaim after being premiered at the Sundance Film Festival. This is Kent’s debut feature film, drawing inspiration from early horror, fairy tales, and magic. Kent puts a hand-crafted twist on a traditional tale. The Babadook explores real-life horrors through well-timed scares and psychological suspense.

The film takes place in the two weeks before Samuel’s (Noah Wiseman) seventh birthday, which coincides with the anniversary of his father’s death. He often tells the story when he meets someone knew: his father died driving his mother, Amelia (Essie Davis), to the hospital to give birth to him. Sam is fascinated with his father, but Amelia refuses to speak of him; she hasn’t been quite the same since. She gave up writing to support her son as an orderly. Her detachment is obvious. Sam loves his mother unconditionally but notices her shortcomings and tries his best to help her. They are close but Amelia’s baggage is clearly weighing on the pair.

One night, Sam chooses a new bedtime book from his shelf, Mister Babadook. It is unfamiliar to him and his mother but they start to read. As the children’s book grows dark, Sam and Amelia become unsettled. The book seems to be speaking to them specifically, trying to convince them to let Mister Babadook in. Sam grows frightened and can’t seem to shake it. The book is gone but the damage has been done. He acts out causing Amelia to take him out of school, for fear of his safety and others. As her stress level rises and the date of Sam’s birthday draws nearer, Amelia begins to unravel. The book reappears and nightmares become real. You can’t get rid of the Babadook…

Resembling the pop-up book from which it is titled, this film plays with visual design to invoke a sense of mourning. Kent uses old-fashioned shadow play and sound effects to convey the sense of dread in the characters’ lives. The Babadook is an externalization of Amelia’s grief; it’s easier to confront a ghoul than her own reality. “If it’s in a word or in a look. You can’t get rid of the Babadook. I’ll wager with you. I’ll make you a bet. The more you deny, the stronger I get. The Babadook is growing right under your skin.” The parallels between the Babadook and Amelia’s mourning are ingenious.

This analogy is really brilliant. Amelia’s begins by denying the Babadook’s existence, as she has done with her feelings of despair. But, Sam can see through her charade and insists the Babadook is real. He is shown only in shadows and without a true form. At times he appears as Amelia’s deceased husband, asking for the boy. Amelia eventually experiences the Babadook, admitting to herself that her mourning has never ended. She is overtaken by the demon as she tries to take back control of her emotions. During her possession, her neighbor and son express their love for her despite her perceived unlovable feelings. This is the encouragement she needs to expel the Babadook. It flees to the basement. Amelia’s grief has a home where she can visit. She soothes the Babadook, regaining control.

Although this film uses many familiar horror techniques, Kent puts her spin on them by adding this giant metaphor to the whole thing. The Babadook is expelled through Amelia vomiting up some kind of black good, which has become synonymous with dark forces in today’s horror. Kent also pays homage to classic horror. She employs a lo-fi technique to depict the Babadook, using stop motion for the monster’s appearances. Although Kent’s production choices set The Babadook apart, the performances of the lead actors are remarkable. This is Wiseman’s debut. His character is intense and well-acted, managing to shock audience while still keeping them emotionally invested. Davis’ character could seem unlikeable but her performance allows the audience to sympathize and understand her plight. The Babadook is a refreshingly impactful horror film in a sea of cheap scares. With impressive production quality and meaningful analogy, the real terror of the Babadook lies deep within.

Dan Gilroy makes his directorial debut with Nightcrawler, which he also penned, starring Jake Gyllenhaal. A gripping psychological thriller, Nightcrawler follows Louis Bloom (Gyllenhall), a persistent young man eager to break into the world of L.A. crime journalism. Having first screened on the Toronto International Film Festival, Nightcrawler claims a Halloween release date, a fitting day for this twisted insight into the mind of sociopath.

Louis Bloom seems like everyone else. He’s handsome, well-read, driven, generally a normal guy trying to make money where he can. Louis scrapes up cash here and there. He commits a string of petty burglaries in lieu of a steady job. When he happens upon a car accident on the interstate Louis discovers his passion: the whirl of excitement, the flutter of suspense and the thrill of crime reporting in the heart of Los Angeles. He decides to buy a video camera and police scanner and throw himself into the action. It takes time for him to get on his feet but soon he shoves his way to the head of the pack, beating even the police to the crime scenes. Louis is highly motivated and tenacious, but he does have flaws. He’s a high-functioning sociopath highly skilled in manipulation. He lacks empathy and a sense of right and wrong. Pretty much, he drags dead bodies across asphalt so his shot will be more balanced. He “charms” his pseudo-coworker Nina, played by Rene Russo, and establishes an exclusive relationship with her news station. His footage is the best because he goes to insurmountable lengths to get it, filming crimes as they happen and withholding evidence from the police in order to break the story first. His obsession with power and recognition would become too much for most people, but not Louis. Nightcrawler is a journey into the mind of a sociopath and the cutthroat nature of success.

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Louis speaks matter-of-factly. Often the things he says seem prepared or as if they’re being read off out of a self-help book for aspiring entrepreneurs. He mentions that he spends a lot of time on his computer, researching all kinds of things. It only makes his character more convincing. His interactions with others are well-rehearsed and calculated. He uses others to his own benefit, to the extreme, threatening and blackmailing with a subtle charm that convinces you that there’s no choice. He clearly doesn’t feel regret or form any real connections with other characters.

Gyllenhaal’s performance is by far the most riveting aspect of this movie. He balances the characteristics of a sociopath so well; acting irrational when he’s after something, laughing things off when most would cringe, and using is charming craziness to manipulate others. Often threatening others or bargaining when he has no leverage, but always coming out the victor. Gyllenhaal gives a stunning performance. His dialogue is sharp and his movements, unnerving. The best way to describe his character is unsettling; a guy who’s not quite weird enough to turn heads, but weird enough to send a chill down your spine. His portrayal is strangely hypnotic, balancing empty stares with endless rambling while charming his prey. He’s backed up by solid performances from Rene Russo and Bill Paxton, who plays a fellow driver, as well as Riz Ahmed who plays his assistant. Although the performances put this film over the top, the rest of the production was quality. There were a few car chase scenes that could have come off hokey, but were done in such a way as to emphasize the protagonist’s unpredictability. For a first-time direction, Gilroy did an incredible job.

Annabelle is the prequel to 2013’s The Conjuring, directed by James Wan, which received generally favorable reviews.  James Wan handed the directorial baton over to his cinematographer, John R. Leonetti, whose previous experience includes Mortal Kombat: Annihilation and The Butterfly Effect 2; safe to say that this may not have been a wise choice.

The film opens with a scene from The Conjuring describing the Annabelle doll and its alleged possession by a murderous demon by a couple of young nurses to Ed and Lorraine Warren. One year earlier, Annabelle centers on a young couple, John (Ward Horton) and Mia (Annabelle Wallis) Form, expecting their first child. Mia collects antique dolls. Husband John surprises her with a new rare collectible doll to add to her assortment in the baby’s nursery. Soon after the doll arrives Mia awakens to screams next door. Their neighbors are being murdered by their deranged daughter Annabelle and her boyfriend. They are members of a satanic cult making a sacrifice to Lucifer. John goes to investigate the screams next door, leaving pregnant Mia alone in the house. The assailants make their way to Mia and assault her. Before things escalate any further, the police arrive and gun down the intruders. Annabelle is holding the new doll as a single drop of her blood is absorbed through the doll’s eye socket.

This plot is promising enough. The association with The Conjuring makes Annabelle even more alluring. Unfortunately, Annabelle does not even come close to its predecessor’s quality. The scariest part of this movie is the acting. Annabelle Wallis shares the name of the antagonist. She also shares the doll’s level of acting skills. Wallis is an English actress best known for Showtime’s The Tudors. I don’t know if that show requires facial expressions, but I’m going to guess that it does. In that case, I’m going to assume she doesn’t perform much better on TV. She refuses to put any sort of enthusiasm into her performance. Ward Horton, however, provides us with plenty of generic emotions. Together, this couple is unbelievable, as in it’s impossible to get stitched into this story. Not for a second do you believe anything Annabelle is trying to sell you.

The production style of this film is reminiscent of The Conjuring which is mildly enjoyable. The score is also similar, except for the addition of cheesy melodramatic ballads which gives certain scenes the feel of a soap opera. There are a few jump scares, but even these aren’t effective because you can see them a mile away. The shot is framed in such a way that the character is on one side and a long hall or doorway is in full view. The wide shot enables the audience to anticipate the scares minutes before they happen; thus negating them all together. You see the devil in this movie, literally the face of the devil, horns and all. It is the least frightening representation of Satan you will ever encounter. Nothing is hidden. There’s no mystery or spookiness to the character at all. Also, he’s not really worked into the story. It goes from the doll being possessed by a small child to Annabelle to a possible demon to Satan without any explanation. There is a priest, of course, that attempts to provide answers, but he is generic and uninformative.

There is one scary scene in Annabelle in which Mia is trying to take the elevator from the basement up to her apartment after being spooked. However, the apartment keeps opening up to the same eerie storage cellar. This scene is well shot and actually invokes some anticipation. However, this scene alone is not enough to redeem Annabelle. This movie combines lackluster scares with uninspired acting to create a prequel far less ambitious than the original.

Craig Johnson takes the directorial reigns of his second film with the dark family dramedy, The Skeleton Twins. Having debuted at the Sundance Film Festival and won the Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award, this film offers a gorgeous commentary on the strength of blood and revival of hope. Former SNL costars, Bill Hader and Kristen Wiig, share the screen and prove to us that they can do more than comedy and do it well.

Estranged siblings, Milo (Bill Hader) and Maggie (Kristen Wiig), are brought together through unusual circumstances in The Skeleton Twins. The film opens with Milo in the bathtub having just written an informal suicide note. Blood stains the water as we cut to Maggie, whom we learn is his twin sister. She is holding a fistful of pills staring into herself as the phone rings and informs her of Milo’s attempted suicide. They haven’t spoken in a decade. The meeting is tense and awkward but Maggie convinces her brother to stay with her and her husband Lance (Luke Wilson), a loveable simpleton with whom Maggie is dissatisfied. Milo’s relationships consist of one-night stands and an infatuation with his high school English teacher (Ty Burrell) who he had an affair with as a teenager. Together, the siblings explore the root of their unhappiness and rediscover what it’s like to have someone to confide in.

Bill Hader and Kristen Wiig give outstanding dramatic performances. The film is darkly funny and deeply encouraging. Yon won’t see any cameos by Gilly or Stefon, but you will get glimpses of the comedic geniuses behind these characters. The Skeleton Twins will have you smirking through the tears. Johnson’s subtle direction leaves Wiig and Hader to their own devices, drawing on their strong chemistry and ability to play off of each other. Strong supporting actors create a well-rounded film. Ty Burrell passes through the comedic threshold to deliver a stunningly creepy performance, while Luke Wilson is unremarkable in the most charming way. The Skeleton Twins is a film that will leave you asking the big questions and warrant some deep thinking; a film that forces you to feel to the highest extent and leaves you impressed by your favorite comedic duo.