Dir - Stephen Cognetti
Overall: MEH
Filmmaker Stephen Cognetti continues his consistently faulty found footage franchise with the obligatory sequel/prequel Hell House LLC Origins: The Carmichael Manor. For anyone interested in the mythology that he has carved out around a creepy hotel, a creepy cult, and also some creepy clown mannequins because why not utilize as many stale tropes as possible, the fourth installment here may satisfy those appetites. The format is the same, as it is presented as a documentary with the "found" footage spliced between talking heads, with scary music, conventional editing, and obnoxiously loud noises thrown in for jump scare purposes. This is always a moronic idea that laughably deflates the entire purpose of a sub-genre that only works if we experience the raw footage without any enhancements or distractions, but lord knows that maybe only one or two people in cinema history who have actually made one of these movies is aware of this fact. Cognetti is not one of these people, so his property can only offer up some unsettling mythos and a handful of freaky set pieces for a popcorn-munching audience that expects nothing more from such films. To be fair, there are some hair-raising moments here, plus the performances are better than usual, but as always, its hackneyed and misguided laziness undermines the whole.
Dir - Max Tzannes
Overall: MEH
It is difficult to make heads or tails of whatever writer/director Max Tzannes' full-length debut Et Tu is on about. Deliberately comedic, it reveals its absurdity at a gradual rate where we are not aware that we are in some kind of psychological warp until the bodies start piling up, alarmingly so at that. Set almost entirely within a modest theater where an obligatory production of William Shakespeare's "Julius Caesar" is being staged, three characters end up being consumed by some sort of euphoric determination to put on the best possible show no matter what the obstacles. This is a misleading summary though, since it goes into ridiculous directions that provide no convincing motivation for anyone's behavior. Egos, jealously, pretensions, and just good ole fashioned mental illness all commingle, and just when we think that we have an angle on why such a dark escalation is taking place, more tidbits rear their confusing head to throw us off. Is it a film about the pressures of the theater, about the hopes and dreams, (whether squashed or burgeoning), of the people involved in putting on a production? If so, the stakes never seem high enough to warrant such spiraling folly. Tzannes keeps up a kettle-boiling atmosphere in the first act before the gloves fly off and it is anyone's guess as to how such a mess will resolve itself, but it is an interesting if not altogether exemplary watch. At least Lou Diamond Phillips is getting some scene-chomping material to work with.
Dir - Macon Blair
Overall: MEH
Though far from a disaster, Macon Blair's long-awaited remake of Troma's The Toxic Avenger still misses its mark more than it hits it, and it tries very hard to hit it. The movie's excess is a necessary component though since there is no other approach to such material than to overdo it, and in this regard Blair and his team of willing participants lock into the kind of scatological, ridiculous, and gutter-trash aesthetic that Lloyd Kaufman and his particular brand of D-grade filmmaking consistently delivers. At the same time though, this is a slick production that looks as if it has the budget of every Troma movie combined, (plus tens of millions of dollars more), yet this is not as jarring as one would think. As far as narrative allegiance to the original, Blair uses the bare bones concept and updates it with modern if still vulgar sensibilities that succeed in being eons less offensive than Kaufman's aggressive stock and trade. There are minimal sex jokes, even less nudity, no fart or diarrhea gags, and minorities and the disenfranchised are spared. On that note, the gimmick of casting Peter Dinklage in the title role never plays off the actor's size, (something that Dinklage may have insisted on), but he is so effortlessly charismatic and effective as a do-goody, struggling stepfather that even when Luisa Guerreiro takes over the physical transformation part with Dinklage's voice, this new Toxie still ends up being a charmer. While there are a handful of laugh out loud moments, most of the gags fall flat or are even worse embarrassing, (Toxie singing "Overkill" from Motörhead for absolutely no reason is enough to deduct an entire star rating). Still, it is hard to hate a movie that has its moronic heart in such a good place.
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