Sometimes one feels cruel when shitting on a movie that appears to have the best intentions, and writer/director Emily Hagins' Sorry About the Demon is just such a movie. On paper, this is an innocent and adorable horror comedy about a down-on-his-luck schlub who is likeable, also on paper. Yet everything that happens here adheres to a type of cutesy and obvious shtick that grows wearisome immediately, and shoehorning in endless jump scares and haunted house/demonic possession cliches that are played for nyuck nyucks makes for a persistently annoying experience. At the film's core is a story about lamenting a failed relationship, second chances, and coming-of-age as a grown man, all of which are admirable traits that should give the movie enough emotional baggage to forgive the lame-brained humor and lazy horror tropes. With everything combined though, (plus a bloated running time that passes the one-hundred minute mark), it overstays its already rocky welcome by undermining its heartfelt agenda with the worst kind of quippy and mugging goofiness; the kind that tries and then fails to be funny.
Dir - Bertrand Bonello
Overall: GOOD
Jumping off from Henry James 1906 novella The Beast in the Jungle, French filmmaker Bertrand Bonello crafted an uncompromising tableau of impending doom and fate running rampant with unavoidable cruelty. The Beast, (La Bête), bounces between three timelines as Léa Seydoux' solemn protagonist wrestles with an unshakable fear that has permeated through all of her past lives, past lives that can potentially be purged of their emotionally baggage by future technology. Along the way, Bonello stylistically and thematically channels the two Davids, (Lynch and Cronenberg), presenting a world of aloof characters, cold technology, psychological playgrounds, a Roy Orbison song, and quirky yet bleak humor. At nearly two and a half hours, the film takes its time with numerous recalls, including verbatim dialog exchanges and immediate flashbacks from different points of view, all of which slam home a persistent theme of, well, persistence. In this wold, (as in our own), anxiety is often justified by life moving along without our permission, throwing chaos into our midst as we wrestle with what we want and what we are inescapably drawn to. Bonello's film deals with such things both precisely and ambiguously, letting us enter the shifting headspace of Seydoux' character as if she is passing through a nightmare that we are all equally a fly on the wall to.
For anyone who really enjoys 1992's seminal BBC mockumentary Ghostwatch and is curious to see what a less good carbon copy of it would be like, writer/director Dominic O'Neill's Haunted Ulster Live has you covered. The entire structure and presentation is so derivative of the film that is is paying homage to/ripping off that it is bound to make many an eyeball roll, and this is ultimately what undermines its potential as either a spoof or a bit of genuinely hair-raising found footage. O'Neill tries to do both at various times, setting the story in 1998 to give it some throwback charm and dated references, but it becomes difficult to tell if the performances are tongue-in-cheek or just subpar. Twilight Zone elements gradually reveal themselves as it inches towards the finale, but its ghostly camera glitches, urban legend boogeyman, unconvincing spooky photographs, kid acting creepy during a seance moment, and student art film montages of weirdness have all been done better in, well, better movies. With no unique ideas of its own and no way to combine what it has into anything either funny, compelling, or scary, the movie just deserves a C+ for effort, even if its heart is in the right place and it never outright insults the audience.