REMNANT

Stars: Megan Bell, Isabelle Weiskopf, Nicole Pritchard, Shaun Robert Foley, Tsu Shan Chambers, Remi Webster and Martin Ashley Jones.
Writer/Director: Mike Horan

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ½

 Available to view via the Seattle Film Festival online portal until June 13th 2024.

Ghosts abound in Mike Horan’s low-budget/high-concept creepshow Remnant, none more so than those of Alfred Hitchcock, George Romero and (metaphorically, at time of writing) Brian De Palma. The Australian filmmaker is not the first storyteller to draw upon the master’s of cinematic psychosis and paranoia to craft a tale of madness, murder and fractured memory. But few have so effectively achieved what Horan manages, whose low-budget but legitimately menacing descent into dream-logic terror is infused with the DNA of the elevated genre films that have gone before.

From its first frames, in which clouds swirl and fields of wheat sway wildly, we understand Horan's narrative will lean heavily into a stylised, not-entirely-real reality. The opening minutes recount the near-death experience of Grace (a terrific Megan Bell, Horan’s ‘Hitchcock blonde’ ingenue; pictured, top) as she stumbles in confused panic through a bushland setting populated by strange little boys, stabby psychos and ethereal apparitions. 

Grace has barely survived a car accident, the details of which will emerge as she recovers at her homestead retreat, where Dr. Stone (Tsu Shan Chambers), the brilliant surgeon who utilised cutting-edge neuro-surgery to save Grace, can covertly watch her patient/guinea pig heal and adapt.

In his convoluted story mix, Horan also melds a slasher origin narrative and a friendship drama (featuring co-star Isabelle Weiskopf in a strong support turn), which proves a few too many subplots for the film to juggle entirely successfully. There is an admirable commitment to fleshing out Grace’s character in the first act, but genre fans will fidget through some wordy exposition; at 112 minutes, the post-production decision-makers might have afforded their final cut another pass.

That said, those same fans are in for a treat come the thriller’s second half. As Grace takes back control of her life and faces off against her demons, imagined and literal, the director, editor Andrew Davis and DOP Mason Grady amp up the horror elements in a vividly cinematic style that Hitch and De Palma would appreciate. An extended, multi-character showdown filmed at the historic Regent Theatre in the New South Wales town of Mudgee is a tour de force, exhibiting just how much can be achieved on a meagre budget when a commitment to the art and craft of genre filmmaking is on show.

A mid-credit sequence pivots Grace’s journey into the realm of body-horror sci fi, which feels like the final genre box to tick given all that has gone before. It underlines that Remnant is an ambitious mix of B-movie beats from a filmmaker who clearly loves films; a strong calling-card project that will alert fans and commercially-minded producers that a new voice spinning his take on old standards has emerged. 

UNFROSTED

Stars: Jerry Seinfeld, Melissa McCarthy, Amy Schumer, Jim Gaffigan, Hugh Grant, James Marsden, Dean Norris, Jon Hamm, Sarah Cooper, John Slattery, Maria Bakalova, Max Greenfield, Mikey Day, Kyle Mooney, Peter Dinklage, Christian Slater, Bill Burr, Dan Levy, Thomas Lennon, Jack McBrayer and Bobby Moynihan.
Writers: Jerry Seinfeld, Spike Feresten, Barry Marden, Andy Robin.
Director: Jerry Seinfeld

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

For die-hard fans of the series Seinfeld, there is a clear point of distinction in the show’s creative trajectory in the wake of co-creator Larry David’s season 7 departure. As we’ve come to understand, David is a master of snark and bitterness that plays hilariously within his lead character’s jaded world perspective, as well as being brilliant at narrative construction. His buddy Jerry, on the other hand, likes things lighter and sillier, and that’s what Seinfeld became under the stand-up’s guidance - ‘The Contest’ is the classic David/Seinfeld mash-up; the one where George naps under his desk, that’s all Jerry.

I never loved seasons 8 or 9 (aka, ‘The Jerry Years’), but I’m going to take a weekend to rewatch them having seen Unfrosted, the new Netflix feature that affords Seinfeld’s silly side unbridled freedom. Very loosely inspired by the origin story of America’s favourite breakfast baked good, the Pop-Tart (see the real-world timeline here), Unfrosted unleashes ‘Jerry Seinfeld, auteur’ and the result is one of the most wholly enjoyable movie-watching experiences in recent memory. Silly as a clown car, of course, and no less bursting with giggly energy.

Seinfeld directs, co-writes and stars in Unfrosted as Bob Cabana, the marketing/R&D guru at Kelloggs in 1963, a moment in time when the cereal giant dominated the first-meal-of-the-day market. Alongside CEO Edsel Kellogg III (Jim Gaffigan), Cabana’s life is one of success-after-success; he dreams of the perfect American lawn and sending his kids to the kind of elite college that charges $200 in annual fees. But there is a cloud over his upper middle-class dreams; a cloud, in the shape, of a fruity gelatinous-filled treat in development at Kellogg’s competitor, Post.

Under highly-strung and devious boss Marjorie Post (Amy Schumer), the underdog outfit plans to gazump Kelloggs with their new breakfast line, changing forever the war for America’s early-morning counter space. Cabana gets a sniff of Post’s pastry plans and snaps, crackles and pops into action, rehiring eccentric cereal visionary Donna Stankowski (Melissa McCarthy) to share in the uphill battle to rush-launch their own sugar-filled breakfast super-sandwich.

This is the framework upon which Jerry Seinfeld (not averse to the pleasures of a milky bowl of grain-based crunch, as fans of his series know) constructs his pastel pastiche of early-60s ephemera, all the while exhibiting an inspired degree of nuttiness that recalls the Zucker-Abrahams-Zucker oeuvre with a splash of Pee Wee Herman-esque alternate realism. The sweet, bright palate envisioned by veteran DOP Bill Pope harkens back to 1995’s Clueless, where his lovely eye for colour and texture added immeasurably to that film’s endearing, enduring qualities.

The parade of Seinfeld’s comedy sector buddies is too numerous to mention, suffice to say that, quite remarkably, none hit a bum note, with each delivering a vivid characterisation and/or some perfectly-pitched laughs. That said, it might be the cast’s loftier acting names, among them Peter Dinklage, Christian Slater and especially a grrreat Hugh Grant, who all but steal the show.

Also remarkable are the occasional issue-based moments that Seinfeld and his seasoned writing team of Spike Feresten, Barry Marden and Andy Robin (all collaborators on Seinfeld) work into the mix. At various points, Unfrosted tackles in its own amusing way Big Business’ shady dealings with international influences; the never-not-relevant gender divide in America’s boardrooms; and (and I can’t believe I’m saying this), the poisonous hive-mind that led to the January 6 insurrection riots.

Unfrosted represents the work of a filmmaker aligned with his narrative’s period and people as filtered through a finely-honed understanding of comedic beats. While it is perhaps too sweet a confection to suggest that this was the film that Jerry Seinfeld was born to make, it clearly captures a storyteller who delights and excels at exquisite embellishment. Seinfeld has finally, even triumphantly, emerged from under the weight of his own name, with a work of superb silliness.

SWEDE CAROLINE

Stars: Jo Hartley, Richard Lumsden, Celyn Jones, Ray Fearon, Fay Ripley, Alice Lowe, Rebekah Murrell and Aisling Bea.
Writers: Brook Driver.
Director: Finn Bruce, Brook Driver.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ½

The world of Big Vegetable Competitions is a dirty business if the true-crime doco send-up Swede Caroline is anywhere near the truth (and if it’s not, it sure feels like it is). Targeting British eccentricity is low hanging fruit for any satirist worth their weight in compost, but injecting humanity and warmth into the inherent daftness of men and women dedicated to maximising marrow growth is just one of the many virtues this fun, feel-good charmer offers.

In a delightfully low-key but humanely hilarious lead performance, Jo Hartley stars as Caroline, the marrow grower with the magic touch who finds herself at the centre of ‘Marrow-gate’ - a controversial turn of events that sees her disqualified from the 2019 competition. This sets in motion a series of sinister coincidences and strange circumstances that ultimately reveal the small-town folk to be not at all the community-minded friends that Caroline and her clingy neighbour side-kick Willy (Celyn Jones) assumed.

On hand to capture all the increasingly ‘capital-C’ criminality and Caroline’s sleuthing prowess is documentarian Kirsty (Rebekah Murrell), whose unobtrusive camera style (and pretty incredible mic tech, if the coupling of wide shots and audio clarity are to be believed) bring out the personalities of the village. These include Caroline’s very shouty conspiracy theorist husband Paul (the terrific Richard Lumsden); the local private investigators Laurence (Ray Fearon) and Louise (Aisling Bea…swoon), whose legendary swingers party are not new to Caroline; and, softly-spoken Linda (Fay Ripley), who may know more than she’s letting on.

Co-creators Finn Bruce and Brook Driver expose the ugliness of unchecked ambition in the most satirically warmhearted way possible, acknowledging both the working class foibles of their heroine and the middle class sense of entitlement of their villains. But Bruce and Driver clearly have a fondness for their characters, unlike the similarly-themed Australian ‘classic’ The Castle, which was an ugly film that punched down upon its view of suburbia. Swede Caroline celebrates that which makes us feel good, even if it is an odd passion for giant gourds or monstrous melons, and its sense of sweetness will grow on you.

LASSIE: A NEW ADVENTURE

Stars: Nico Marischka, Katharina Schüttler, Dennis Mogen, Justus von Dohnányi, Annette Frier, Maike Jüttendonk, Anna Lucia Gualano, Pelle Staacken, Xiduo Zhao and Priscilla Wittman.
Writer: Andreas Cordes
Director: Hanno Olderdissen

Rating: ★ ★ ★

 

Since she first appeared in Eric Knight’s 1943 novel Lassie Come Home, the beloved Collie heroine has proven a resilient commercial property, even when the material doesn’t shine quite as much as her lustrous coat. Such is the case with her latest bigscreen incarnation, a kids-own adventure mystery that pits Lassie and her tween-age pals against some nasty dognappers in the Deutsche countryside.

Director Hanno Olderdissen returns to the franchise after having guided 2020’s Lassie Come Home to robust European box office and brings along that film’s young star, the likable Nico Marischkka, reprising as Lassie’s boy owner, Flo. Instead of summer in the Canary Islands with his parents, the young master and his pet are staying with Aunt Cosima (Katharina Schüttler), whose lovely cottage is also home to foster kids Kleo (Anna Lucia Gualano) and Henry (Pelle Staacken).

But, for some reason, the local leafy village is also a hub for a canine blackmarket run by dog-thief Delphine, played by a fully-committed Maike Jüttendonk in full Cruella de Vil mode. Lassie (played by strapping animal actor ‘Bandit’), along with her puppy pals Pippa, an energetic Jack Russell Terrier, and Spike, a feisty French Bulldog, infiltrate the crime ring and, with Flo and Kleo and Aunt Cosima providing two-legged support, set about bringing the baddies to justice.

Olderdissen and writer Andreas Cordes work all the tropes we’ve come to expect from our Lassie adventures, including but not limited to the iconic line, “Lassie, get help!” and two key sequences of the furry heroine running at full clip through the picturesque scenery. Also deftly handled by the storytellers is the ‘family is important’ subplot that, while low-hanging fruit thematically in a movie like this, is engaging to the end.

The producers know their audience, which skews even younger here than it did with the 2020 instalment. The baddies are buffoonish and the dogs are never subjected to the horrors that real-world traffickers would inflict upon their captives; in fact, in one giggly sequence, they even wash them, which provides some all-ages slapstick. 

Not ‘A New Adventure’ in any meaningful way, as the title suggests, but rather an option for family audiences that will evoke warm memories for parents and harmless thrills for under-10s.

GODZILLA X KONG THE NEW EMPIRE

Stars: Rebecca Hall, Dan Stevens, Bryan Tyree Henry, Kaylee Hottle, Alex Ferns, Fala Chen and Rachel House.
Writers: Terry Rossio, Simon Barrett and Jeremy Slater.
Director: Adam Wingard

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ½

It’s 2024 and too much Godzilla is not nearly enough. Audiences ears are still ringing from the auditory assault that was the Japanese-produced, Oscar-winning international hit Godzilla Minus One and he arises once again (as he’s known to do) in GODZILLA x KING THE NEW EMPIRE. 

But if the big lizard is going to campaign for another Oscar come next year’s ceremony, it’ll have to be in the Supporting Actor category, because it’s his hairy monster mate Kong that takes the lead in the latest instalment of Legendary Pictures’ ‘Monster-verse’, which has included four films that have proven just globally successful enough to warrant subsequent narratives - Godzilla (2014); Kong: Skull Island (2017); Godzilla: King of the Monsters (2019); and, Godzilla vs. Kong (2021) 

Returning director Adam Wingard opens with a giddy sequence that sets in motion exactly the kind of sensory onslaught you’ll face for the next two hours. In the alternate world of Hollow Earth, we find Kong fleeing a pack of reptile-wolf predators that prove really no threat at all. What has consumed Kong, however, is a bout of melancholy, a Titan-sized depression brought on by his disconnection from his species. 

This is reflected in the loneliness felt back on Earth by teenager Jia, played by the fantastic Kaylee Hottle, who is yearning to be reunited with her tribal ancestors, the Iwi people, and who shares an ET/Elliott-like bond with Kong. She lives with her adopted mom and Monarch boss Dr Ilene Andrews (Rebecca Hall), who is a bit preoccupied tracking increased activity by a certain giant lizard.

Kong’s narrative is the central plot; his discovery of an enslaved ape colony gives him hope of some same-species company but also provides a nasty villain in the shape of brutal overseer, Skar King and his ice-breathing pet-monster, Shimu. Godzilla’s fans may be frustrated that their preferred monster spends two-thirds of the film wandering the planet, charging himself up on nuclear energy in anticipation of a big final showdown. 

Kong understands to defeat Skar, he needs his old foe on his side. At the cost of most of Cairo and a pyramid or two, he (sort-of) convinces ‘Zilla to join him in Hollow Earth alongside Jia, Dr Andrews, sexy vet Trapper (Dan Stevens), Titan conspiracy podcaster Bernie Hayes (a shoe-horned Bryan Tyree Henry) and a stunningly-realised Mothra in all its elegance for an effects-heavy showdown.

Wingard only addresses real world issues and emotions in the most perfunctory of ways; so disinterested in his human characters is he that in big setpieces he all but lays waste to both Rome and Rio, with not a second to reflect upon the human lives lost. His cast doesn’t fare much better, with all but Hottle asked to do little else but look up and occasionally explain the plot.

No, this is all about the Titans and Wingard, upscaling pure Saturday morning cartoon energy to accommodate his big-screen vision for chaos and destruction, delivers all that as well as fully-earned if fleeting beats of wonder and emotion.

AS WE KNOW IT

Stars: Taylor Blackwell, Mike Castle, Oliver Cooper, Danny Mondello, Chris Parnell and Pam Grier.
Writers: Brandon DePaolo, Christopher Francis, Josh Monkarsh.
Director: Josh Monkarsh

Rating: ★ ★ ★

The well-manicured rock gardens of L.A.’s suburban hills are flowing red thanks to Agnes oat milk, a dairy substitute that’s turning Los Angelinos into ravenous zombies in Josh Monkarsh’s As We Know It. This giggly throwback to the teen buddy comedies of the late 90s subs in Mike Castle, as struggling novelist James, and Oliver Cooper, the film’s MVP as oafish stoner Bruce, for ‘Jason Biggs and Seann William Scott’ types; mismatched mates facing off against the undead uprising in a low-key but winningly likable rom-zom-com.

Monkarsh and his co-writing posse of Brandon DePaolo and Christopher Francis don’t leave the connection to chance, setting their story in the late 1990s and riffing on such decade-specific artefacts as Kevin Costner’s Waterworld, brick-like portable home phones, pre-smart TV TVs and those bastions of smallscreen journalism, Geraldo Rivera and Phil Donahue. Also of the period is the Pixie Dream Girl archetype, embodied here by Taylor Blackwell’s doe-eyed and endearingly sassy Emily.

James is in a deep funk, having recently split with Emily; so distracted is he from real life, not only has his writing stalled but he has also failed to cotton-on that his hometown is in the grip of an extinction event. It takes Bruce banging on his front door to bring him into the present; they make to hightail it out of town, but a syphoned gas tank means they have to bunker down in James’ pad (beautifully set decorated by Asiah Thomas-Mandlman and production designed by Lorus Allen).

The ‘rom’ revs up when Emily drops by to say a final goodbye before driving to Seattle with her girlfriends. When the girls meet an ugly demise, Emily is left to survive alongside her ex and his bestie, with whom she also shares an awkward past. In the mix are a food delivery guy on the turn (Danny Mondello), a sexy neighbour (the iconic Pam Grier, clearly having some fun) and SNL alumni Chris Parnell cameoing as an LA affiliate newshound.  

The bittersweet conclusion gels ideally with that particularly late-90s sense of foreboding that the impending new millennium held. Between the lad’s comic chemistry and the occasional teeth-on-flesh ickiness, Monkarsh focuses on the missed opportunity for a soulmate pairing that James and Emily let slip. True love doesn’t quite conquer all in As We Know It, but it is at the centre of this warmly funny spin on the old “better to have loved and lost, than never…” refrain. 

CHRISTMESS

Stars: Steve Le Marquand, Darren Gilshenan, Hannah Joy, Nicole pastor, Aaron Glenane, Damien Nixey and Kya Stewart.
Writer/Director: Heath Davis.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

For an auteur whose trajectory as a character-driven storyteller continues to rise, Heath Davis understands the voice of the fallen everyman with remarkable insight. Across three self-penned features, his lead characters have been men whose lives have peaked without their knowledge and who lean into their inner demons for support on the downward slide. From the football star recovering from a gambling addiction in Broke (2016) to the sarcastic novelist self-medicating his way through a sophomore slump in Book Week (2018), Davis writes about people who are at a moment when personal redemption is within reach, but so is a further fall.

In the bittersweet world of Davis’ latest, Christmess, that tarnished idol is Chris Flint (a terrific Steve Le Marquand, pictured above, reteaming with his Broke director). Chris is a Silver Logie-winning celebrity once so in demand that, in one of the film’s more eccentric revelations, he once acted in a gay love scene with Chris O’Donnell. But Flint’s fame is long gone; substance abuse has led to an extended period in rehab. Upon release, his agent fails to materialise for the promised car ride, meaning Chris has to schlep across Sydney’s western suburban sprawl in the blistering summer heat. A new life beckons, but the first stop is a halfway house…just in time for Christmas.

The comedy/drama framework is at its firmest within the home’s red brick-veneered walls, where Davis’ three-hander character work comes to life. Providing Chris’ new moral compass is sponsor Nick (Darren Gilshenan), a man committed to righting the tragic wrongs of his own past by keeping his charges on a spiritually-focussed road to recovery. Sharing the space is lively wannabe starlet Joy (Middle Kids’ lead singer Hannah Joy, pictured below, in a star-making support turn), with whom Chris develops a sweet bond. Scenes between the three are often staged around the most mundane co-living moments - cooking and cleaning roster; house rules - but with all three living the recovering addict’s mantra ‘one day at a time’, their small moments together carry dramatic weight.

Chris nails down a gig as a mall Santa, an initially hopeful development until a chance encounter with his estranged daughter, Noelle (Nicole Pastor) leads to a very unSanta-like public moment. Chris’ desire to reconnect with his adult child becomes the emotional core of the film, a reminder that this time of the year for many people is not the happiest on the calendar. One of the filmmaker’s strengths is that he can warmly convey empathy and optimism yet, as captured in the final moments of his latest, not forgo real-world truths in favour of seasonal sentimentality.

There is no doubt that Heath Davis has made a Christmas film (just look at those character names), but it is one from an addict’s perspective; from the point-of-view of a damaged man and his friends, each in need of that ‘miracle’ that the season promises and, in most December films, delivers. But Christmess is less a feel-good film and more a ‘just-feel-something’ film. The 25th is just another day for Chris, perhaps a little bit better than the 24th, and Davis helps us understand that is a good day for his fallen star.

CATS OF MALTA

With: Karmen Colerio, Michelle Degura, Salvu Gilson, Polly March, Nikki Micallef, Isaac Muscat, Matthew Pandolfino and Roza Zammit Salinos.
Director: Sarah Jayne Portelli

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ½

 

Director Sarah Jayne Portelli pivots a sweet-natured travelogue essay on the rampant strays of a central Mediterranean archipelago into a melancholic longing for traditional community values with her effortlessly lovely film, Cats of Malta. The personalities she profiles - feline or otherwise - combine in this charmingly irresistible testament to show one species can grow attached to another species, despite no reciprocation of affection whatsoever.

Maybe that is a little cynical (full disclosure - I’m a dog guy). There is certainly no denying that the expat Australian director has skilfully corralled an endearing collection of human and cat types, all bonded by their shared life on the island, and captured that coexistence against some truly flavourful location photography. 

The opportunity to explore Malta’s ‘Cat Culture’ comes to Portelli through her own ancestry - the project came to life on an extended trip back to her homeland - but her insight is vast; the documentary ultimately reaches beyond its azure shorelines and defines how animals and humans bring out the best in each other. A key thematic component of the documentary is the mental health boost that the island’s co-living arrangement provides.

The director hints at the profundity of this interrelationship with her first subjects, a father-daughter pair who turned their lives upside-down to save Nanoo, a stray that had become a favourite of their patrons just by hanging around. It is revealed that the elderly gentleman feels a kinship with the cat, and many others like it, because he cared for strays with his late wife. 

From this point, Cats of Malta paints a portrait of a place where kindness to fellow creatures is a cherished human virtue, and those who defy or deny the cats’ existence - the greedy developers, like those who demolished the iconic ‘Cat Village’; the cruel, dark-hearted types who deliberately maim or poison - are the true scourge of a modern society.

Portelli doesn’t address all the issues that might be raised when an island of 316 km2 (122 sq mi) - the tenth-smallest country by area - is populated by 100,000 cats. Not to be indelicate, but…surely there is an ‘odour’ problem? And the species as a whole is not exactly known for their silent ‘nighttime activities.’ More seriously, anti-cat advocates are denied right-of-reply when some of their actions are put under the spotlight.

All of which would unravel the sheer positivity at the heart of Cats of Malta, and that would be a shame. The joy that caring for and sharing life with the island’s four-legged fur-people is more than enough to sustain the upbeat narrative. Sarah Jayne Portelli captures a utopian existence for those who draw soul-enriching pleasure from caring unquestioningly, and of those who are happy to lap it up. 

KILLERS OF THE FLOWER MOON

Stars: Leonardo DiCaprio, Robert De Niro, Lily Gladstone, Jesse Plemons, Tantoo Cardinal, John Lithgow, Brendan Fraser, Cara Jade Myers, JaNae Collins, Jillian Dion, Jason Isbell, William Belleau, Louis Cancelmi and Scott Shepherd.
Writers: Eric Roth, Martin and David Grann. Based on the 2017 book by David Grann.
Director: Martin Scorsese.

Rating:  ★ ★ ★

The latest match-up of Marty, Leo and Bobby is based on journalist David Grann’s 2017 non-fiction book, which investigates a series of murders of wealthy Osage people that took place in Osage County, Oklahoma, in the early 1920s. Big oil deposits were discovered beneath their native title-held land and the state court awarded rights and all profits to the Osage people.

But cunning capitalists devise a plot to eliminate the Osage. White settlers marry themselves to Osage women, binding themselves by wedlock to the Osage oil receipts, and soon any full blood relatives in line for the money are found dead. Officially, the count of the wealthy Osage victims reaches 20, though likely hundreds more were killed. The book details the newly formed FBI's investigation of the murders, as well as the eventual trial and conviction of cattleman William King Hale as the mastermind behind the plot.

The lead character in the book is investigator Tom White. In the film, he’s played by Jesse Plemons, though doesn’t make an appearance until about the two hour mark. Instead, Scorsese’s protagonist is returned WW1 serviceman Ernest Burkhart, played by Leonardo di Caprio. He’s not a very interesting or complex character, and Leo gives one of his less convincing performances, but he does provide Scorsese with a device upon which to pivot his plotting with flashbacks that slowly reveal Ernest to be an easily-manipulated and violent tool of cattleman kingpin William ‘King’ Hale (Robert de Niro). 

Scorsese’s key interest in this narrative is the criminal machinations of the plot, which is no surprise given his career has almost exclusively been that type of film. Women in Scorsese films are usually victimised or bullied into sadness, mostly present to show what scumbags his lead characters are, like in Raging Bull or The Wolf of Wall Street or Casino or Goodfellas or Taxi Driver or Gangs of New York (that is, if they are present at all, like in The Irishman or The Departed).

He casts the brilliant Lily Gladstone as Osage woman Molly, the strongest sister in a family of strong women...or so we are left to assume. She is smart and sensitive and proudly Osage, but she’s subservient and naive when it comes to the actions of her brutish husband, Ernest. With her whole tribe dying around her, Ernest (and Scorsese) keeps her quiet by plying her drugs and deceit…until good white man medicine saves her and she gets a brief moment to confront Ernest about his actions.      

Molly is a support character in what should be her story. Instead, Scorsese gives more screen time than he should to toothless hillbilly henchmen or, even more worryingly, one-dimensional depictions of Osage as violent drunks or mentally unwell or noble but nonplussed. Although he exhibits his usual technical flair and filmmaking bravado, Scorsese skirts around the issues that could’ve been addressed to tell a story we’ve already seen him tell.

VIOLETT

Stars: Georgia Eyers, Angela Punch McGregor, Sam Dudley, Valentina Blagojevic, Simon Lockwood, Mani Shanks, Kingsley Judd, Jay Jay Jegathesan and Suzi Aleqaby.
Writer/Director: Steven J. Mihaljevic

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

VIOLETT is the Closing Night feature at The 2023 A Night of Horror International Film Festival. For session details, click here.

Steven J. Mihaljevic displays a true auteur’s vision in his second feature, the dark psychological drama Violett. A grieving mother spirals deeper into her own inner darkness when she employs familiar imagery from her missing daughter’s past to help cope with her misery. But the images she conjures are filtered through her rage and desperation, resulting in a nightmarish modern fairy tale that the Perth filmmaker presents in pitch black shadows, rich primary colours and brilliantly-realised bleakness.

As Sonya, the young mother struggling to define the line between shattered reality and corrosive insanity, Georgia Eyers delivers a star-making performance of achingly tangible anguish. Her face a pall of ashen anxiety, her eyes hollowed by corrosive sadness, Eyers (having worked with her director on his debut feature, The Xrossing) crafts a potent examination of guilt-ridden remorse. The actress has a lock on ‘shattered young woman’ roles at present, with her empathetic performance in Nick Kozakis’ Godless: The Eastfield Exorcism also gaining great notices.

Not unlike how Neil Jordan adapted the ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ story to evoke complex adult themes in his cult classic The Company of Wolves, so too does Mihaljevic borrow from dark fairy tale iconography to portray his take on Sonya’s grief. Most arresting of all his twisted visions is Jay Jay Jegathesan’s street artist monster ‘Victor’, fashioned on Australian kid-TV favourite Mr Squiggle. Also certain to haunt audiences is Simon Lockwood’s hideous The Candy Man, whose finger-food specialty is the stuff of nightmares.  

While not quite a ‘Keyser Soze’-size final reel rug-pull, Mihaljevic certainly shows a brazen confidence in how he plays out his narrative, in a move that adds further depth and dimension to his leading lady’s performance. The other key contributors are DOP Shane Piggott, whose emotive use of bold colour and sodden blackness is exquisite, and Australian acting legend Angela Punch McGregor, a towering presence in an all-too-rare big screen role.