by George Wolf
Minions
We can all agree the minions were the best thing about the Despicable Me films, right? The little yellow orbs brought an inspired zaniness that elevated the otherwise average outings, becoming a big hit with both kids and parents in the process.
So why wouldn’t Minions, a prequel of their very own, be a thoroughly delightful installment that builds on all that promise?
Well……
Mainly, it just doesn’t feel worthy of the opportunity. A new story of how the minions hooked up with Gru presents deliciously wide open possibilities, but the ones the film explores land more like an early draft that needs re-tooling.
Geoffrey Rush starts things off well, narrating a look at the minions through history and the search to fulfill their destiny: serving the most nefarious villains they can find.
Eventually, the tale settles in 1968, when a minion search team (Bob, Stuart, Kevin) hitches a ride from a bank robbing family (led by Michael Keaton and Alison Janney) to the big villainy convention in Orlando. Once there, the 3 impress the infamous Scarlett Overkill (Sandra Bullock) enough to become part of her devious plan to steal the Queen of England’s crown.
The Queen of England? Yeah, it’s a strange adventure that’s a bit skimpy on the charm.
With their unique build and gibberish language, the minions are sight gags just waiting to happen, and their screen time in the DM films took fine advantage. Minions just doesn’t, leaving you scanning the background quite often, searching in vain for some subtle silliness to pump up the fun. This film is more interested in spoofing music from the era (especially during the post credits scene), which just isn’t a viable trade off.
Bullock’s vocal work is also a letdown, again proving that successful voice acting is a distinct talent. Jon Hamm has that talent, and his enjoyable turn as Scarlett’s husband Herb only reinforces the memorable edges missing in Bullock’s performance.
Still, kids will love Minions, because the minions are easy to love. But like the Penguins of Madagascar, maybe they weren’t quite ready for a solo album.
The Gallows
Ever have that dream where you’re trapped inside your old high school? I think maybe Travis Cluff and Chris Lofing have. They work through their issues with the theatrical horror show The Gallows.
The writing/directing duo resort to found footage to tell their tale. What you’re watching is Nebraska police evidence – so kind of the cops to edit together multiple different camera sources for us! The footage captures the horrific events surrounding the high school production of The Gallows.
First, the good news: You don’t have to actually watch a high school play. Whew!
Twenty years ago a boy died during a performance. To honor that anniversary, the school puts on the same damn play. Now that’s just in poor taste. As retribution, someone or something terrorizes the kids who break in to the school the night before the performance to bust up the sets. Scamps!
Like the surprise fun of this summer’s Unfriended, The Gallows taps some insightful ideas concerning modern teens – like that they are, on average, stupid enough to film themselves committing felonies. This film also has some fun at the expense of drama kids, as well as those kids who believe they are way too cool for high school theater.
The original trailer for this film was a scream, and the scene it depicts remains the film’s high water mark in terms of terrifying fun. Set decoration is spooky and the brisk 81 minutes offers a goodly number of jump scares.
Performances are generally solid, too. Pfeifer Ross, in particular, strikes the perfect note as the perky, earnest drama kid, while Ryan Shoos is equally on-mark as the insecure, jerk jock. A couple of supporting turns are fun as well in a movie that hopes to quickly create a believable high school microcosm before it turns into a predictable if entertaining riff on some familiar horror ideas.
It’s better than going back to high school, that’s for damn sure.
Amy
It takes a real gift for storytelling to take a Behind the Music tale – rags to riches to tragedy – and turn it into a riveting, relevant, surprising film. Documentarian Asif Kapadis (Senna) has done just that with the vital and heartbreaking film Amy.
For his picture of Amy Winehouse he collects hundreds of interviews and sifts through countless bits of personal footage to craft more than just a powerful look at a self-destructive talent. The footage is so personal, the interviews so honest, we become voyeurs as a bawdy, vivacious young talent finds her own voice, indulges her dangerous appetites, spirals out of control, and finally succumbs to her demons.
That lens – the voyeur’s eye view – is a pivotal component to the success of Kapadis’s film. While Winehouse’s story is eerily similar to so many others, it may have been the utterly public self-destruction that sets her story apart. We watched it happen, and to a great degree, we participated. Kapadis is asking us to do it again.
Winehouse’s story certainly echoes too many others. Dead at 27, she joins a prestigious if tragic club: Jimi Hendrix, Kurt Cobain, Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin. Like those musical supernovas, Winehouse struggled with depression, drug abuse, family issues, and a string of bad decisions.
Too few people knew her before she was a Jay Leno punchline, but the doc takes us back to her throaty pre-teen singalongs with buddies, her earliest club dates, to scenes with the same group of friends from grade school onward. We see the raw, shocking potential in this voice, something that echoed both jazz divas of days gone by as well as the most contemporary hip hop, and are reminded of the breathtaking intimacy of her lyrics.
A crafty filmmaker, Kapadis knows what to do with the collection of material. He understands the complexity of the Winehouse story. Though he implicates those whose influence helped determine the chanteuse’s fateful trajectory – a dirt bag junky husband, an emotionally disinterested mother, a manipulative, self-serving father, a short sighted tour manager, and a public thirsty for controversy – he never paints Winehouse as a true victim.
Like many hard living performers of remarkable talent before her, Amy Winehouse was a train wreck. Asif Kapadis respects that. You should, too.
Get more of my reviews at MaddWolf.com!