HUNGER

Stars Chutimon Chuengcharoensukying, Nopachai Jayanama and Gunn Svasti Na Ayudhya
Writer: Kongdej Jaturanrasamee
Director: Sitisiri Mongkolsiri

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ½

The Hunger of the title is a double-edged kitchen knife in director Sitisiri Mongkolsiri’s cutting, often bittersweet piece of high society takedown. Set in the ostentatious world of ultra artistic fine dining, Hunger speaks of the craving in us all to consume food prepared in a way far more elegantly than being easily digestible requires. This is food as art, and art that carries with it all the emotions, anxieties and eccentricities of the artist.

Hunger is also about craving a status above the social standing into which you are born, an existence that demands thin slivers of your soul be trimmed away to climb above those just like to secure a place amongst the wealthy but grotesquely compromised humans that appear to you to be better…somehow.

Chutimon Chuengcharoensukying plays Aoy, a talented young street chef at her family’s Thai noodle cafe. She discovers what she didn’t know she wanted when a scout for an elite food prep outfit slips her a card emboldened with the word ‘Hunger’. It’s a ticket to the world of Chef Paul’s kitchen; Paul, played with a fierce intensity by Nopachai Chaiyanam, likes her street-food touch, and starts breaking her down so he can build her up in his image (like JK Simmons did to Miles Teller in Whiplash).

Soon, Aoy is letting the family values upon which she was raised slide and the allure of attaining a certain type of ‘special’ social place is taking hold. Paul has long slipped into the amoral world of corruption, wearing the arrogance of existing above the law like a badge. Hunger spirals with an increasing unease towards one of two potential endings - a huge fall from grace, or a moralistic realisation to be careful what you wish for.

Hunger feels a bit overlong, but that only raises the question of what to omit, and that is not easy to answer. It plays equally convincingly as both a large-scale takedown of the vacuous, soulless upper class Bangkok society types, or as a more intimate character duel between Aoy and Paul, with her very humanity at stake. And, of course, it is an absolute feast for food lovers, whether you prefer the noodle cafe nosh or the food-as-art high dining plates.

TRUE SPIRIT

Stars: Teagan Croft, Cliff Curtis, Anna Paquin, Josh Lawson, Todd Lasance, Alyla Browne, Bridget Webb, Stacy Clausen and Freya Callaghan.
Writers: Rebecca Banner, Cathy Randall and Sarah Spillane; based on the book True Spirit: The Aussie Girl Who Took On The World by Jessica Watson
Director: Sarah Spillane.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

Since 2010, when the then 16 year-old defied every naysayer and some of the planet’s harshest conditions to become the youngest person to complete a solo, unassisted and non-stop trip around the world, Jessica Watson has remained a devout advocate for self-belief and goal-oriented living. Named the 2011 Young Australian of the Year, she has spent the best part of the last decade instilling in a generation of young people the will and drive to make dreams come true.

Director Sarah Spillane’s adaptation of Watson’s bestselling memoir instils a similarly aspirational tone, while hitting all the beats that those familiar with the adventurer’s journey will expect. With ace DOP Danny Ruhlmann in peak form, Spillane’s second feature (after 2013’s Around the Block, with Christina Ricci) exhibits a strong cinematic flair that demands you see True Spirit on the big screen, during its brief local theatrical window (it hits Netflix on February 3); a sequence against the night sky and set to Bowie’s ‘Starman’ is especially breathtaking. Her collaboration with Oscar-nominated editor Veronika Jenet (The Piano, 1993; Rabbit Proof Fence, 2002) is also top-tier, with the criss-crossing flashback/present day narratives meshing flawlessly.

As the sailor driven by a yearning to connect with the planet’s great watery expanse, Teagan Croft delivers a revelatory central performance. From the unshakeable realisation that the world’s oceans are her calling to the psychologically debilitating loneliness on becalmed seas to the life-threatening storm fronts that batter her physically, Croft embodies all that we have come to understand about the remarkable person that is Jessica Watson. It is a star-making turn for the young actress, whose potent screen appeal and ability to convey both fragility and fortitude in key moments represents a rare acting commodity.

Some dramatic licence is afforded the ‘family and friends’ support network that Watson drew upon before and during her voyage. Josh Lawson’s portrayal of father Roger Watson conveys a level of anxiety that has been tempered from the real-life version; the family patriarch was very vocally at odds with her daughter tackling the journey. A terrific Cliff Curtis plays Jessica’s spiritually-aligned mentor Ben Bryant, a wholly fictional construct by Spillane and co-writers Rebecca Banner and Cathy Randall that represents several guiding figures in the sailing community who helped prepare the teenager. Also conjured are scenes invoking a pre-teen Jessica’s early focus and conviction, brought to life by the radiant and commanding Alyla Browne.

Jessica Watson is that rarest of iconic archetypes - a person so flesh-and-blood real as to be instantly relatable, yet a heroic figure whose accomplishments are unlikely to ever be rivalled. That is a tough combination to capture and convey in a film, especially when so many details are already indelibly etched in a nation’s conscience. Yet Sarah Spillane and Teagan Croft have pulled off the adventurer’s story with all its bewildering reality and existential joy intact. The production not only deeply respects her seafaring accomplishments, but also the legacy it has afforded her name.

RESIDENT EVIL

Stars: Ella Balinski, Lance Reddick, Tamara Smart, Sienna Agudong, Adeline Rudolph and Paola Núñez.
Writers: Andrew Dabb, Garett Pereda, Shane Tortolani, Jeff Howard, Kerry Williamson and Lindsey Villarreal.
Director: Bronwen Hughes, Rachel Goldburg, Batan Silva and Rob Seidenglanz.

8 episodes to stream on Netflix from July 14, 2022

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ½

The RESIDENT EVIL franchise is proving harder to kill-off than one of its own cannibalistic T-virus infected bad-guys (or girls, or dogs, or whatever). Since CAPCOM launched the first Playstation video game version in 1996, it has been a blockbuster - since its inception, no less than 31 versions have been released on gaming platforms, making it the most successful horror gaming series of all time. The seven live-action films, six of which starred Milla Jovovich, have grossed over a billion dollars, making it the most successful film series based on a videogame ever. This is before you add in graphic novels, animated films and TV shows, merchandise and, I shit you not, live theatre productions, of which there have been three in Japan since 2000.

Such hot-property legacy IP means that Netflix and their safe-bet programming strategy couldn’t be far behind. They dipped their toes in the Resident Evil waters with last years’ CGI-series Infinite Darkness and have now gone all in with this new 8-episode arc, boldly calling itself simply ‘Resident Evil’, suggesting this is the new and defining narrative for the brand. With zombies or zombie-adjacent types having bought in big bucks for streamers in recent years, it’s seems only fair that the starting point for the re-animation of the undead as legit pop-culture iconography shouldn’t enjoy the spoils - without Resident Evil, there’d be no Walking Dead or 28 Days Later or World War Z, so good luck to all involved.

But does this fresh spin on the mythology of New Raccoon City and the spread of the T-virus earn its own stripes, under the showrunning of Supernatural alumni Andrew Dabb? He takes the potentially risky step of splitting his story into two distinct timelines - the first, a future-set dystopian vision where 6 billion infected roam the Earth and freehold outposts provide shelter for the uninfected (a bit like in Mad Max 2). British actress Ella Balinski plays Jade Wesker, a lone figure monitoring the herd actions of the infected, until she is knocked unconscious by a monster caterpillar (yeah, in this Resident Evil, there are monster caterpillars!) and becomes collateral for the nomads to barter with the evil Umbrella Corporation.

Storyline #2 is not quite so ambitious, or compelling; it is 2022, and teen Jade (now played by Tamara Smart) and her sister Billie (Sienna Agudong) have relocated to the oh-so-white suburbia that is the pre-T-virus outbreak New Raccoon City. Their emotionally-absent father is Umbrella bigwig Albert Wesker (a typically compelling Lance Reddick), who is struggling to raise the two girls, who struggle with their own PTSD moments from the life they’ve left behind. An animal rescue attempt, during which Jade and Billie gain (surprisingly easy) access to the Umbrella labs, starts to align the two story strands.

The intercutting of the present and future plotting is handled skilfully, even if the high stakes of 2036 Jade’s undead-infested existence and the teen beats of 2022 Jade’s high-school/homelife world seem initially mismatched. Corporate horrors and homeroom villainy find a surprisingly satisfying balance. Those in for the traditional Resident Evil thrills will be happy to know zombie dogs turn up in Episode 1, and that the infected are shriekers, not shufflers. Balinski, who was so good in the recent Charlie’s Angels reboot it was like she was in a different film entirely, is great as a hard-edged action heroine.

As a refresh of the Resident Evil mythology, the series exhibits a strong pulse…

THE ADAM PROJECT

Stars: Ryan Reynolds, Zoe Saldana, Walter Skobell, Jennifer Garner, Mark Ruffalo, Alex Mallari Jr. and Catherine Keener.
Writers: Jonathan Tropper, T.S. Nowlin, Jennifer Flackett and Mark Levin.
Director: Shawn Levy

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ½

At the risk of putting offside all the theoretical physicists who read Screen-Space, time travel is stupid, can’t exist, doesn’t work…except in the movies. So movies can make up whatever rules they want about time travel, and that’s fine by me, as long as it forges its own logical path and, in doing so, is entertaining.

Which brings us to The Adam Project, the latest high-concept action/comedy/thriller to draw from the Ryan Reynold’s charm and sarcasm trough like it’s a bottomless resource. This Netflix blockbuster is the latest pairing of Reynolds and director Shawn Levy, who last pulled off this critic’s favourite Hollywood hit of 2021, Free Guy.

In 2050, a 40-ish Adam is a pilot, who steals a ship so that he can make the jump to 2018, stop his dad Louis (Mark Rufalo) from inventing a hard drive that makes time travel possible and foil his colleague Maya Sorian (Catherine Keener) from betraying their goals for her own personal gain. But 40-ish Adam punches in 2022 instead of 2018 and finds himself face-to-face with his 12 year-old self (Walter Skobell), a smart mouth mini-Reynolds who is coping with the sudden death of his dad by making life hard for his mum, Ellie (Jennifer Garner).

Banding together because they share the DNA code that overrides his starship's security, the starship that will carry him back to the future, Adam 2050 and Adam 2022 pair up with love interest Zoe Saldana (future-Adam's wife Laura, who travelled back previously to make sure...oh, never mind) to derail villainy.  

Like Free Guy, The Adam Project takes a convoluted fantasy premise and turns it into an engaging, exciting romp with more effortless likability and heart than one should expect from stuff like this. Which is all on Reynolds, who somehow combines a Jimmy Stewart warmth with a Burt Reynolds aloofness to pull off a rather unique leading man type - he’s still the handsome, funny movie star who projects larger-than-life to us, but he also connects to audiences through empathy and emotion. Tom Hanks did it in Splash; Jim Carrey did it in The Truman Show. Reynolds has it in spades.

The first half is pure ‘80s-era Amblin-inspired set-up and adventure, and it’s the best part of the film. The second half gets clunkier, a bit too special effects-y and loses touch with its characters in favour of some heavy-handed plot resolution. But it plays out nicely, recovering that deft storytelling touch and sleight-of-hand human emotion that sneaks up on you when all the time travel malarkey is cleansed from the narrative.

TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE

Stars: Sarah Yarkin, Elsie Fisher, Mark Burnham, Jacob Latimore, Moe Dunford, Nell Hudson, Jessica Allain, Olwen Fouéré and Alice Krige.
Writer: Chris Thomas Devlin
Director: David Blue Garcia

Rating: ★ ★ ★

Leatherface returns in what is being touted as the “spiritual sequel” to the late Tobe Hooper’s 1974 masterpiece. Don’t do the math; if you do, that makes the chainsaw-wielding bad guy a very spry 70 or thereabouts. Given some of the muscular action and physical dexterity he exhibits in offing the latest cast of annoying twenty-somethings, life as a disgusting shut-in clearly has it’s perks.

The pot-smoking Kombi kids of the first film have been replaced by upwardly-mobile, idealistic millennials whose vision is to rejuvenate the decrepit ghosttown of Harlow and turn it into the next Portland. Dante (Jacob Littlemore), his gf Ruth (Nell Hudson) and driven capitalist Melody (Sarah Yarkin) have the plan; Melody’s sister Lila (Elsie Fisher), in the grip of PTSD having survived a school shooting, is along for the ride. The group land in Harlow just ahead of a busload of douche-y investors, every one obviously lining up to be blade fodder.

The horror kick starts in the most 2022 of ways - a dispute over title deed. Dante and Melody claim ownership of a spooky crumbling house, but find a dusty old broad (Alice Krige, leaning into the scenery teeth-first) and her ‘son’ (you know who) still in the premises. Things go bad, storm clouds roll in, nighttime descends…you can see where this is going.

The Chainsaw Massacre films have never been at the cutting edge of social commentary, so bravo to this latest version for a few swipes at the handheld-device generation. No, it's the splatter that matters in the TCM films and Leatherface ‘22 offers plenty of inventive dismembering. Key player is Fede Alvarez, who directed the awesome Evil Dead remake and the first Don’t Breathe and here guides the gore as producer.

Slasher films count on outwardly intelligent people putting themselves in patently dangerous situations, and Texas Chainsaw Massacre has more than its fair share of “Oh my God, what an idiot!” moments. That’s part of the fun, and for those of us who adore the saw, there’s lots of fun to be had here.

ANGELE

Featuring: Angèle, Marko, Laurence Bibot, Damso, Roméo Elvis and Dua Lipa.

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

Currently available worldwide on Netflix.

Belgian singer/songwriter Angèle Van Laeken applies some carefully orchestrated introspection to her stardom in the so-appropriately self-titled documentary, Angèle. First-time director Sébastien Rensonnet and music-video veteran Brice Vdh corral third-person footage - much of it shot by the starlet herself, deep in her COVID-lockdown headspace -  and mould it to a template set by Madonna (Truth or Dare, 1991), Justin Bieber (Never Say Never, 2011) and Katy Perry (Part of Me, 2012). The resulting cinematic snapshot proves sweetly engaging, part confessional / part infomercial.

The opening salvo of images chronicling the pop sensation’s rise to homeland celebrity certainly leans into the privilege of her upbringing. The daughter of ‘90s pop singer Marka and actress/comedienne Laurence Bibot, she was blessed with talent that was encouraged from an early age, even if an underlying theme of the documentary is Angèle’s determination to break free of her parent’s public profiles and establish her own professional identity.

Taking its cues from the dozens of long-hand journals that she kept during her formative years, the documentary ticks off key moments in the 25 year-old’s development as a lyricist, public figure and person. These include winning over crowd indifference as support act to rapper Damso; hitting online viral heights, first as an Instagram personality and then with the release of her first song, La Loi de Murphy; and, the frenzied reception to her blockbuster album Brol and its record-breaking single, Tout oublier.

Perhaps because so much of their film is private moments captured on smartphones or home video, Rensonnet and Vdh use their subject’s performance presence sparingly. Fans tuning in to see concert footage or rehearsal time may be underwhelmed, but there is already plenty of that material in circulation. In fact, so consumed is the film with its distillation of modern fame, it is not her pairing with superstar Dua Lipa that resonates but instead the relationship Angèle has with her affectionate, outspoken grandmother.  

It becomes clear that a part of the documentary’s role is to provide a clear voice and sturdy platform for Van Laeken to close the door on several image-threatening moments that arose in the early stages of her fame. Paramount amongst these is how she dealt with the backlash against her brother, rapper Roméo Elvis, when he is outed for inappropriate sexual conduct, and the songstress takes both a firm stance against his actions while still maintaining her ‘family above all’ mantra. 

Emerging as a feminist icon in the wake of her #MeToo anthem Balance ton quoi role and coming-out as bisexual in late 2020 are handled with an evenhanded maturity, speaking to the film’s raison d’etre - the affirmation that Angèle has survived the first stage of her life in the spotlight and is poised to embrace whatever challenges she faces as a powerful, focussed young woman.

KATE

Stars: Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Miku Patricia Martineau, Tadanobu Asano, Jun Kunimura, Michiel Huisman, Miyavi, Mari Yamamoto and Woody Harrelson.
Writer: Umair Aleem
Director: Cedric Nicolas-Troyan

Rating: ★ ★ ★

Kate is a great movie if you want to test out your new soundbar, or get back at that neighbour for renovating during lockdown. Director Cedric Nicolas-Troyan’s female assassin revenge thriller is best watched with the volume amped up to levels that both maximise the visceral rush of the ultra-violent action and drown out that pesky need for logic and depth in cinema.

Mary Elizabeth Winstead plays the titular avenger, a stealthy hitwoman trained since childhood in all manner of lethal means by Varrick, played by Woody Harrelson projecting a ‘I’ve done this before, just let me act’ vibe. When a hit goes wrong, Kate must pay the price; a one-night stand with Michiel Huisman (who also one-night-stood with Kaley Cuoco in The Flight Attendant) turns bad when she is poisoned with a radioactive drug and given 24 hours to live.

A billion miles away from the adorably cherubic Ramona in Scott Pilgrim vs The World, Winstead continues her transformation into A-list action heroine that began in earnest as The Huntress in Birds of Prey; she is a lean, mean, battered and bleeding killing machine, perfectly embodying the movie she’s in. It’s uncertain whether the actress’ planned career trajectory was as a butt-kicking, head-cracking vigilante; one can't help feel that after a 2016 that saw her topline the theatrical hit 10 Cloverfield Lane and the promising but ultimately unsuccessful network series BrainDead, Hollywood might have had loftier ambitions for her unique appeal and talent.

Act 2 kicks off with Kate seeking vengeance for her impending death by tracking down the Yakuza boss she believes ordered the hit. The journey takes her deep into the neon-lit Tokyo night, an odyssey that brings with it a brattish teen named Ani (Miku Patricia Martineau), the daughter of one of Kate’s recent whacks, and who can conveniently supply at lot of narratively-helpful information about her gangster relatives. Set in motion is a bone-cracking series of splattery encounters between Kate and knife-wielding gun-toting henchmen, all of whom die by some horribly violent and beautifully choreographed means (the in-the-chin/out-the-forehead knifing is a highlight). 

Early on, Kate hints at a need for a more sedate, less blood-soaked lifestyle, and the relationship she develops with Ani goes some way to fulfilling those longings. While the actresses work hard to make these moments count, Umair Aleem’s script is less committed. Also working against real-world feelings are plot developments that don’t make a lot of sense (if they can find Kate in a classy bar to poison her, why not just cap her ass there and then?) Wild shoot-outs and stabby hand-to-hand conflict unfold randomly and regularly in heavily-populated locations, suggesting Tokyo is one of those police-free big cities often found in these sorts of films.

All others aspects of this mid-range Netflix programmer adhere to the wronged female assassin template, maximised in pics like Bridget Fonda’s The Assassin, its French source material La Femme Nikita, Soarise Ronan’s Hanna and, most recently, Karen Gillan’s Gunpowder Milkshake. Also in the mix is the central plot device of the 1949 film noir classic D.O.A., remade in 1988 with Dennis Quaid as the poisoned protagonist. Kate is a movie that nods to other, better movies, but which does enough to punch a hole in lockdown boredom for 100+ minutes.

THE WILLOUGHBYS

Featuring the voices of: Will Forte, Maya Rudolph, Terry Crews, Martin Short, Jane Ktakowski, Seán Cullen, Alessia Cara and Ricky Gervais.
Writers: Chris Pearn and Mark Stanleigh; based on the book by Lois Lowry.
Director: Chris Pearn.

Available on:

Rating: ★ ★ ★

The plot to The Willoughbys sounds like a Netflix kind of pitch; four children, including two creepy twins, plan patricide and matricide to rid themselves of selfish, abusive parents and willingly render themselves orphans. But instead of the streaming platform’s umpteenth must-watch true-crime mini-series, director Chris Pearn delivers the network’s second animated family adventure, an adaptation of Lois Lowry’s darkly hued but sweet natured children’s book.

Having helmed the flavourful, frantic, if hollow sequel, Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs 2, Pearn offers a similarly colourful if slightly too contrived retelling of Lowry’s bestseller. The story’s protagonist is put-upon pre-teen Tim (Will Forte), the eldest of the four Willoughby children and the least likely to show any sign of inheriting the family’s distinctive feature, a deep red moustache. His sister Jane (Moana songstress Alessia Cara) is a dreamer, but one who curtails her longings to help care for the twins, both called Barnaby (Seán Cullen). The parents (Martin Short, Jane Krakowski) are despicable people, self-obsessed and petulant, who cast Tim to the basement coalpit each night and refuse to feed the children for days on end.

Inherently dark material (one winces at what a Tim Burton or Guillermo del Toro adaptation might have looked like), but Pearn’s animation style is richly textured and wildly imaginative, the visuals softening the jagged edges. Proceedings are lightened up further thanks to the droll narration of The Cat (Ricky Gervais); the introduction of the boisterous Nanny (a wonderful Maya Rudolph); and, shifting the location at crucial points to a candy factory run by the larger-than-life Commander Melanoff (Terry Crews).

Early on, Jane finds new purpose in her life and Pearn amps up the slapstick when a mischievous baby enters The Willoughby’s home (exhibiting agility not unlike Jack Jack Parr), but the character soon fades away. It is one of several spasms of undeveloped material that feel like the adaptation was unable to overcome leftover chapter-beats from its source material. One sequence, in which the four children ‘Home Alone’ prospective buyers, feels like an altogether different short film entirely. A third act that sends the kids to Sweezerlund spins the film into pure fantasy and appears to be setting up a predictably feel-good conclusion, but credit to the production for staying true to the narrative’s darker themes, up until the final frames.

The Willoughbys is too hit-miss to achieve the instant classic status bestowed upon Netflix’s debut cartoon feature, the Oscar-nominated Klaus (2019). But if the storytelling stumbles, Pearn and his animators certainly deliver colour and movement in a manner that is sure to enthrall the under 10s.

THERE'S SOMETHING IN THE WATER

Featuring: Ellen Page, Ingrid Waldron, Michelle Paul, Jolene Marr, Dorene Bernard, Michelle Francis-Denny, Carol Howe, Rebecca Moore, Paula Isaac, Marian Nichols and Louise Delisle.
Directors: Ellen Page and Ian Daniel.

Available on:

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★

Ellen Page returns to her Nova Scotian roots to document the ongoing exploitation of traditional indigenous lands in There’s Something in the Water. With her ‘Gaycation’ collaborator Ian Daniel sharing camera duties, the Oscar-nominated actress puts her celebrity to good use highlighting the scourge of environmental racism, as it impacts the First Nations people of Canada.

Taking as her starting point the bestselling book by Dr Ingrid Waldron, Page goes deep into her homeland’s heartland to reveal both the human and ecological scarring caused by close to 60 years of government neglect and callous corporate profiteering. Establishing her familial ties to the eastern Canadian maritime province and recalling an appearance on Stephen Colbert’s The Late Show where she passionately addressed the ongoing abuse of indigenous entitlement, Page pinpoints three economically-challenged regions that have long been sacred to the traditional owners but have become shameful monuments of capital-C capitalism.

The first stop is the southern township of Shelburne, historically significant for the role it played in the mid-19th century America as a drop-off point for the Underground Railway; at one point in the country’s history, it had the highest population of African-Americans in Canada. However, in the 1940s, a waste dump was established on the town’s outskirts and remained open until 2016, the resulting stench and seepage of toxins into the water supply now thought responsible for generations of cancer fatalities. 

Page and Daniel then travel to the far north, to the Boat Harbour region and traditional lands of the Pictou people. In the film’s most personal account, Michelle Francis-Denny tells the story of her grandfather, an elder Chief in the early 1960s, who was conned into signing over rights to the land by local government officials working in tandem with developers of a proposed paper mill. The waterways, known to generations of Pictou as the spirit-enriching Ossay, were ruined within days. Page gives a face to ‘big business villainy’ in archival footage of one John Bates, the aged white businessman whose indifference to the native population’s suffering is chilling (“So what? They weren’t living in the water.”)

Finally, There’s Something in the Water highlights the ‘Grassroots Grandmothers’, a woman’s collective from Stewiacke who take on the Alton Gas Corporation over the plans to dump mined salts into a sacred river in defiance of M’ikmaq treaty conditions. Their battle with local and federal officials (including a sidewalk face-off with PM Justin Trudeau), stemming from their spiritual bonds with the landscape of their ancestry, closes out the ‘past, present and future’ structure of Page’s matter-of-fact account, an approach that highlights the systemic prejudices and ingrained corruption of Canada’s democracy.

It is not the most elegant film; handheld camera work from a car’s passenger seat takes up an inordinate amount of the 73 minute running time. But perhaps a film that captures waves of sewerage vapour gliding towards a helpless population, or recounts the alcoholism and suicides that are the by-product of a community’s collapse need not purify its approach for aesthetic gain. There’s Something in the Water tells an ugly story about the horrendous exploitation of a proud people and their beautiful land, so urgency and honesty over artistry seems entirely appropriate.

BETWEEN TWO FERNS: THE MOVIE

Stars: Zach Galifianakis, Lauren Lapkus, Ryan Gaul, Edi Patterson and Jiavani Linayao.
Featuring: Will Ferrel, Matthew McConaughey, Keanu Reeves, Chance the Rapper, Rashida Jones, Adam Scott, Jason Schwartzman, John Cho, Brie Larson, David Letterman, Paul Rudd, Chrissy Tiegen, John Legend, Jon Hamm, Hailee Steinfeld, Awkwafina, Tiffany Haddish, Benedict Cumberbatch, Tessa Thompson, Peter Dinklage and Gal Gadot.
Writer/director: Scott Aukerman.

Rating: ★ ★ ★

The centrepiece success story of the Funny or Die comedy site transfers to the bigger small-screen with everybody associated doing as little as possible to make it a success. Which sounds like a bash, but it isn’t; frontman Zach Galifianakis and director Scott Aukerman have got this insult-interview schtick down-pat and, with a by-the-numbers road-trip half-plot as a framework, they deliver the laughs and a little extra for the fans.

Eleven years after it transitioned from a bit-skit on Aukerman’s unrealised comedy pilot The Right Now! Show into a web-sensation (first guest – Michael Cera), Between Two Ferns finds itself ideally suited to the streaming-platform popularity surge. There is not enough substance to the finished feature to suggest it would have made the leap to the bigscreen, as many Saturday Night Live properties did back in the day (most without enough substance either, to be fair). BTF:The Movie is a bread-&-butter Netflix initiative, the kind of fan-service concept reworking that will keep bums on couches.

The ‘Zach Galifianakis’ of Between Two Ferns doesn’t have the breakout Hollywood hit The Hangover to his name; he is a North Carolina local-cable identity somehow capable of pulling the likes of Barack Obama, Brad Pitt and Charlize Theron onto his low-rent chat show. When a plumbing issue nearly kills Matthew McConaughey and all but destroys the studios of FPA-TV, the head of Funny or Die, a coked-up Gordon Gekko-esque version of ‘Will Ferrel’ (Will Ferrel) has had enough. FOD sets new terms; 10 new BTF interviews in 2 weeks and they’ll bankroll Galafaniakis’ dream gig – a late night talker all his own – but if he fails, he’ll be cut loose.

With a team of three in tow – producer/PA with a heart of gold, Carol (the lovely Lauren Lapkus); irritable cameraman, Cam (Ryan Gaul); and, soundie ‘Boom’ (Jiavani Linayao) – they undertake the journey to LA, endeavouring to secure talent along the way. The road-movie tropes soon kick-in; time in the car allows for some character building, with Galifianakis peeling back some personal layers of his alter ego. It is all perfunctory banter, never particularly engaging or insightful, but it does provide time for Aukerman to pace his comedy beats into feature length (just, at 82 minutes).

Most importantly, nothing about the expanded format dilutes the hilarity of the inappropriate interviews. Best of them is David Letterman in full-beard (“Crystal-meth Santa Claus”), Keanu Reeves (“Out of 100, how many words do you know?”) and Benedict Cumberbatch (“Do people think you’re a good actor because of your accent?”).

As expected, the end-credit outtakes represent the funniest sequence in the film, but it also undoes the conceit; both Zach and his guests regularly crack up, revealing the degree of performance actually involved in the tapings. Of course, as with the rest of the film’s unambitious shortcomings and simple rhythms, fans won’t care.