Reviews of the Bosch

If the zombie genre is known for anything, in terms of its metaphorical resonance, it is an allegory for grief. Numerous zombie movies contend with a plot element of the hero having to let go of someone they care about, often in a traumatically violent way. In We Bury the Dead  that moment may have already happened before the story begins -it is the confirmation and closure on it that is the driving force. The movie, by Australian director Zak Hilditch, had its premiere many months ago at the Sundance Film Festival and it’s a shame it didn’t get a wider release in time for Halloween, instead only slipping by discreetly at this time of the new year where it is very soon to be supplanted by the next 28 Years Later movie. This is especially ironic given its low budget and limited resources bear on it a resemblance to 28 Days Later , right down to the human behaviour in and around a zombie apocalypse being far more interesting and frightening than the zombies themselves. Hilditch’s ins...

If there was ever a genre for the British to do the definitive spoof of it would be the costume drama. It is such a ubiquitous form of British media -every U.K. actor has done at least one somewhere in their career, they are a constant in the national media landscape with their own dramatic language, tropes, and conventions ripe for riffing on. But then the parody film itself is a bit of an awkward animal on the pantheon of British comedy, which traditionally tends more towards wit and more general absurdity. There isn’t a culture of spoof films over there like there is in America; even where British comedy has incorporated parody it has been less about specific stories or genres, and more general events or conventions perhaps linked to a theme like history or class. The best British parodies I have seen have been short-form sketches by the likes of French & Saunders or for Comic Relief. And I would still say that holds true. Fackham Hall  is a spoof very much in the style...

I think we’ve reached a new form of soulless Hollywood reboot -the meta-reboot. Where a movie makes abundantly clear it knows how tired we all are of the schtick and throws a big lampshade over the whole thing to give the impression it is a clever commentary on the reboot machine, but is for all intents and purposes no different from any more commonplace attempt to recycle a brand. The Naked Gun  had a few gags towards this theme, but wisely didn’t make it the entire premise -also it was genuinely very smart and funny. Anaconda  does make it the entire premise, and it is not particularly smart or funny. Anaconda  (1997) was not even ever that beloved a movie to begin with, outside of a cult audience that developed around its B-movie silliness -not unlike Tremors . Though Tremors  actually was aware of what it was -unlike Anaconda which tried to take seriously its schlocky effects and schlockier performances. But I guess come 2025 it was one of the few franchise title...

Marty Mauser is a good ping-pong player. His crippling delusion though is his belief he is the best in the world and that he is spiritually ordained for nothing more in life than to play ping-pong, as he openly expresses to two important women in his life, each of whom crave a little more ambition and foresight out of the determined and egotistical kid -an accurate term given his very immature read of the world and reticence to any kind of responsibility. Before going to the British Open in London, he robs at gunpoint the shoe store he works at for his uncle, for $700 he believes is owed him;  he even tells his co-worker to press charges and get him fired, confident he’ll be able to weather any consequences when he comes back a champion. But fate does not see eye to eye with Marty Supreme. Unlike his brother Benny, who released The Smashing Machine  a few months ago, Josh Safdie has had experience as a solo director, albeit only for his debut film The Pleasure of Being Robbed ...

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart. The very next day, you came back for my soul. That's when I learned you were a demon. Ah well. This year it saves me from tears -my emotionless husk can no longer produce them. Halfway through the 2020s, this decade has already given most others of the past century and a bit a run for their money in terms of how terrible they can be. And on the eve of one rotten year transitioning to another you can't help but take stock of that as you gaze into the nothingness of your own mind in deep meditation on the profound cruelty of the universe. Or maybe that's just me. But 2026. That is no picnic either. In fact, it makes 2025 look like an adorable labrador puppy rolling in a flowerbed. 2026 on the other hand is an ugly Cerberus with the complexion of James Gunn's Scrappy-Doo monster stomping all over a toxic waste spill while biting the heads off rodents. I've witnessed it from my vantage point in the demon's mausoleum (which actual...

Why have I now seen two fondly remembered Christmas movies with uncomfortable scenes of blackface in them? And why is one of them from the goddamn 1980s?? Like most of John Landis’s movies from this era, Trading Places has a handful of scenes and a few thematic threads that are frustrating or have aged poorly -unfortunate marks on a premise that in this case is actually very good and interesting. A satire of class and wealth that feels like a piece by Mark Twain adapted by Preston Sturges based around the singular concept of a rich man and a poor man swapping class status. Some form of it had been seen before but never in this precise manner or with this slickness, and it is perhaps the optimal example in American cinema. I wasn’t aware of how much influence it had on this year’s Good Fortune  for instance -which is basically the same plot but with an Angel and magical intervention thrown in (and maybe more direct consciousness of the reality of wealth disparity). For as interesti...