William Tell: The Swiss Folk Hero on the Big Screen

This crossbow-wielding warrior is sort of a Swiss Robin Hood or King Arthur. He is more a figure of legend than history, despite his inspiring folk-hero status. Of course, in the 1970s, leftist Swiss intellectuals like Max Frisch demonized Tell as a backwoods “deplorable,” while arguing his notorious nemesis Albrecht Gessler was just a well-meaning tax-collector. Needless to say, their radical reinterpretations never took hold. Instead, he remains the hero who shot that famous apple, which is exactly how director-screenwriter Nick Hamm presents him in William Tell, opening today in theaters.

The good thing about mythic figures with little evidence to prove their existence is the leeway they leave filmmakers like Hamm to fill in the holes. In this film, Tell fought as a crusader in the Holy Land, but the brutality he witnessed left disgusted with war. However, it was also there that he met Suna, his not very Swiss-looking wife. Initially, Tell would rather stoically endure the Habsburgs’ oppression, rather than risk re-igniting the horrors of war. However, he still feels compelled to help a poor yeoman farmer who killed the Habsburg agent guilty of defiling and murdering his own wife.

Of course, that puts Tell on Gessler’s radar. Recognizing the archer’s potential danger, Gessler sets a very public trap for him. Naturally, Tell refuses to bend the knee for a Habsburg monument, so Gessler forces him to attempt an impossible shot, targeting an apple atop his son’s head. Refusal means certain death for the entire Tell family, but making it would create a national hero.

Logically, Hamm starts with the apple and then flashes backwards, to explain how Tell got there. Yet, there is still quite a bit of story left after that. In fact, there is a whole rebellion to fight. Hamm is not known for action, but he stages some of the best ancient historical battle sequences on film since Gladiator II. Thanks to Tell, the crossbow figures prominently and Hamm fully capitalizes. In terms of grit and theme, William Tell is very much like vintage Mel Gibson.

Denzel Washington as Othello, on Broadway

The prospect of a European nation waging war against Turkey on the island of Cypress ought to be unthinkable in the near future. Yet, given Erdogan’s increasing authoritarian oppression and his open hostility towards his supposed NATO allies, it is not so outlandish anymore. Consequently, the mildly dystopian setting for Broadway’s latest Shakespearean production sort of makes sense—not that anyone cares. The real story is the casting. As even people outside New York have heard, Denzel Washington plays the tragic Moor and Jake Gyllenhaal plays Iago in Othello, directed by Kenny Leon, which is now playing on Broadway.

Washington assumes the role so famously associated with Orson Welles, Sir Laurence Olivier, Placido Domingo, and William Marshall—and for most readers that is all they need to know to have confidence in this production. Frankly, they are not wrong. Leon and company emphasize Othello’s military status, which plays to the strengths of Washington, who can still don fatigues with complete conviction and a ram-rod straight bearing.

You really ought to know the basic plot of Othello, but if you are a Gen-Z’er who was failed by your woke schooling, Othello was an outsider who rose to become one of Renaissance Venice’s top generals. However, he passed over Iago for promotion, in favor of the more refined but less experienced Michael Cassio. Despite his ostensive loyalty, Iago also bears nativist sentiments of some sort towards the Moor. As a result, resentful Iago resolves to ruin Othello, exploiting his insecurities regarding his much younger wife, Desdemona, while both are summoned to Cypress to fight the Ottoman Turks.

If you have seen Washington in The Tragedy of Macbeth, there is question he can swagger through the first act and then rage and wail through the second. He is perfectly cast and he never disappoints. However, the surprisingly good news is Gyllenhaal’s comparable performance as Iago. Think of him as the Gyllenhaal of Nightcrawler, but at a higher, more devious, and sarcastically calculating level.

So yes, the two reasons everyone is interested in this production are as good as you expect, or even substantially more so. Take that George Clooney and your extended movie monologue. In fact, the chemistry (from Othello’s perspective) or tension (as Iago sees it) shared by the two co-leads is totally electric.

Leon’s director well serves the two thesps and their fans. He stages most of the action front and center, so it is easy to follow from any seat in the house. The imposing yet minimalist set designs harkens back to classical architecture through its massive concrete-looking columns, while also evoking the dehumanizing brutalism of its Orwellian setting.

ND/NF ’25: The Lost Chapters

Venezuela has no future, so Ena’s father obsessively preserves its literary past. Due to political and economic conditions, he closed the family’s bookstore, but he still regularly buys large collections for a museum of Venezuelan books that will most likely never come to be. Yet, not even he has a copy of the rare 1912 novel she starts searching for in Lorena Alvarado’s The Lost Chapters, which screens during this year’s New Directors/New Films.

Ena is taking a break from school and the stress of life with her father and her increasingly Bidenesque grandmother (Mamama). Apparently, her mother is taking a permanent break in Madrid. The circumstances are unclear, but it does not seem to bother her father. One day, while puttering around the family bookstore with her father, she discovers an old postcard that mentions an obscure novel the sender suspects was written by a notorious Venezuelan author under a pseudonym.

This launches Ena’s quest for a book that might not even exist. Of course, her father can totally respect that. Unfortunately, Mamama might be drifting further away, so Ena also seeks the full text of the partial poem the elderly woman constantly recites, hoping it might rekindle her memory.

Periodically, there are references to the utter chaos plaguing Venezuela, but they are always oblique. In fact, Ena’s family appears almost hermetically sealed-off from the outside world. There is a sense of disconnection, isolation, and ennui that might be preferable to the police-state realities of the Maduro regime. Yet, that reality is one of the driving motivations for her father’s preservation campaign. It also explains why he has so much time on his hands.

Regardless, the family’s detachment from the outside world robs the film of a lot of its potential metaphorical power. Viewers could have seen a tragic parallel between the country’s deliberate amnesia regarding its own recent history and Mamama’s memory loss due to dementia—but Alvarado only vaguely hints at such ironic echoes.

Arguably, Alvarado’s sedate tone and laidback reserve are assets that quickly become liabilities. Frankly, the experience of watching Lost Chapters often feels like being a house-guest staying with a family you barely know. You spend a lot of time in a comfortable home, but you feel no connection.

The Bondsman, on Prime Video

You cannot get much more Country than a singing bail bondsman. Like Charlie Daniels, Hub Halloran will have some seriously demonic encounters down in Georgia. Unfortunately, instead of beating the Devil, Halloran is stuck working for him in creator Grainger David’s eight-episode Blumhouse-produced The Bondsman, which premieres tomorrow on Prime Video.

Halloran took over his mother Kitty’s bail bond business, but at one time, he harbored musical ambitions, like his ex-wife Maryanne Dice. Her career is poised for a resurgence, but something went very wrong for him. Actually, a lot went wrong for him. Long story short, her “reformed” Boston mobster boyfriend Lucky Callahan had his thugs murder Halloran. He was Hell-bound, but the infernal organization sent him back to Earth to recapture demons that escaped from downstairs.

The bondsman’s equally damned Earthly supervisor Midge Kusatsu makes it clear this is only a temporary reprieve. Eternal torment awaits, but at least he can secure some closure with his son Cade, whose own musical talent Halloran never properly encouraged. Of course, he would also like a little payback from Callahan. Plus, there is the matter of the mysterious unforgivable sin that condemned him in the first place. Halloran is cagey whenever his mother asks, having discovered the demonic nature of his new business. Unfortunately, Callahan strongly suspects the truth.

Of course, Halloran keeps hoping he can find a loop-hole to wriggle out of his infernal dilemma, Instead, he uncovers evidence the jailbreaks from Hell are part of something even bigger that could potentially trigger the End of Days.

Kevin Bacon is perfectly cast as flinty old Halloran and Beth Grant is frequently hilarious as Grandma Kitty. They develop totally believable chemistry as mother and son. Australian thesp Damon Herrimon is also spectacularly sleazy and slimy as Callahan. Frankly, he is so entertainingly villainous, he inadvertently makes Jennifer Nettles and Maxwell Jenkins look like idiots playing Maryanne and Cade. They must be denser than diamonds not to see what a creep Herrimon’s Callahan so obviously is.

Regardless, it is jolly good fun to watch Bacon scowl, grimace wearily, and then blast demons back to the inferno they came from. However, instead of building to a big crescendo, the concluding episode sort of deflates. It also lacks any sense of closure whatsoever, which is frustrating (especially if there is no season two). Arguably, this is another series that should have been one or two episodes tighter.

Still, the mordant black humor is quite amusing, particularly the management structure for Hell’s operations, which is indeed quite Hellish. The tone of the writing produced by David, showrunner Erik Oleson, and Satinder Kaur perfectly suits Bacon and Grant.

Wake Up: The Horror of Political Extremism

Michael Moore and the so-called Yes Men are great at humiliating security guards and receptionists and then pretending they are champions of the “little guy.” These Gen Z extremist thugs clearly follow their example. The plan is to hide in an Ikea-like big box store, to deface it after the sales staff leaves. Obviously, they expect to leave the security guards holding the bag for their tantrum. Instead, they learn actions sometimes have brutal consequences in the new horror movie from Francois Simard, Anouk Whissel, and Yoann-Karl Whissel (a.k.a. RKSS, the Roadkill Superstars), Wake Up, which releases this Friday in theaters.

Supposedly, Ethan’s gang of vandals is upset at the retail chain because its save-the-rainforest product line is not saving the rainforest with sufficient speed, or something like that. The plan is to spray paint their empty slogan “wake up” over all the store’s furniture. Unbeknownst to them, security guard brothers Jack and Kevin have already had a bad day. To keep their jobs, they agreed to work the late every night for the foreseeable future, starting tonight. That means Kevin must miss his special primitive hunting getaway. For his part, the more stable Jack is already drunk.

Tragically, Jack’s confrontation with the intruder’s results in a profusely gushing head wound. Rather understandably, Kevin does not take kindly to punk kids killing his brother, regardless of their politics, so uses his hunting and trapping skills to exact some bloody, merciless payback.

Frankly, Wake Up is the kind of movie in which everyone basically has it coming, so viewers should just do their best to enjoy the carnage. It will get bloody. The entitled posturing might sound 2020’s, but the hacking and slashing definitely harkens back to the 1980’s. Yet, in a way, it sometimes feels like a grubby, less ambition cousin to Bertrand Bonello’s Nocturama.

It is hard to judge whether screenwriters Alberto Marini and Martin Soudan intended to play political favorites, but RKSS invite sympathy for nobody. These are all a group of horrible people, locked in together overnight, resulting in a recipe for anxiety and disaster.

825 Forest Road, on Shudder

Unfortunately, neighborhood block associations cannot regulate against hauntings. Perversely, local ordinances protect Helen Foster, the wrathful spirit terrorizing this beleagured town. According to lore, if you find and destroy Foster’s house, you will eliminate the source of her uncanny power, but those old records were sealed. Unfortunately, Isabelle and her replacement family move into the cursed neighborhood in director-screenwriter Stephen Cognetti’s 825 Forest Road, which premieres this Friday on Shudder.

Frankly, Chuck’s realtor kind of stinks. First, he discovers the roof of their new home leaks like a sieve. Then he starts to learn of the town’s notorious history, starting with the previous owner’s suicide. Yet, she still wants him to film a video testimonial for her.

Of course, it was cheap and he thought they needed the space, since his younger sister Isabelle agreed to move in with him and his wife Maria, after their mother’s accidental death. Technically, it is four of them, if you include Martha, the creepy mannequin Maria insists on lugging around. She believes Martha has been a good luck charm for her YouTubing fashion-designing career. However, as soon as they unpack, Martha mysteriously begins to move around on her own. Must be a prank, right?

Soon, Chick learns the whole town lives in fear of Foster’s ghost. Searching for her address, 825 Forest Road, is their obsession, but everyone does it on the sly, because those who get too close wind-up dead. Foster wastes no time diving deep into the weeds of Foster-philia, even joining his next-door neighbor Larry’s support group for 825-seekers. Yet, he always acts skeptical whenever he comes home to the aftermath of a fresh round of supernatural mayhem.

Regardless, 825 is a surprisingly scary haunted house film. Much like Cognetti’s Hell House LLC found footage franchise (which also prominently features mannequins), it shows how skillful execution can elevate a relatively straightforward premise. However, in this case, the obsession with old maps and municipal records adds an element of old fashioned, tactile musty-smelling intrigue.

Scooby Doo! Ghastly Goals, on Tubi

While they are in Brazil, maybe the Scooby gang can solve the mystery of the missing light-rail. They started construction to service the 2014 World Cup, but it remains unfinished. At least you can see long stretches of rail going nowhere. That is more than the state of California has to show for the $15.7 billion spent on its light-rail boondoggle. However, Mystery Incorporated has a more pressing monster to unmask in Victor Cook’s Scooby-Doo! Ghastly Goals, which premieres tomorrow on Tubi.

If ever there were a man and a dog who could appreciate Brazilian churrascaria, it would be Shaggy and Scooby. Instead, they partake of that famous Brazilian street food, pancakes-on-a-stick. Seriously? Frankly, every Brazilian who visits America wants to have a big lumberjack stack of pancakes because they believe (not unfoundedly) that is a very American thing to do.

However, there is plenty of soccer/football. Ghastly Goals was an original episode-length Scooby mystery commissioned for a sports-themed boxset to tie-in with the then upcoming World Cup in Brazil. To be fair, they do a decent job recreating the sights and colors of Rio. The monster, the Eshu, is of Yoruba origin, which does indeed have a place in Afro-Brazilian tradition and lore. Perhaps the lab they visit, thanks to an empty test-tube clue, also appears to be somewhat inspired by Oscar Niemeyer’s flying saucer-looking Niteroi Contemporary Art Museum.

Obviously, this is a cartoon featuring a talking dog who likes to eat, so you should judge it by those standards. However, screenwriters Eric Maher & Kay Reindl’s ultra-frenetic caper, involving a missing autographed football injected with a dangerous super-bouncy formula, lacks the spookiness of the best Scooby episodes. It also ignores the best of Brazilian cuisine, like feijoada, coxinha, pao de queijo, and picanha. They can blame the Eshu, but Scooby and Shaggy do Brazil all wrong.

Video Comics: Hawkman & Swamp Thing

It took Aquaman’s reputation decades to recover from being mocked as the guy who “talks to fish” on Saturday Night Live. However, people often forget that Hawkman could also talk to birds (at least on some Earths he could). Admittedly, birds have much greater surveillance and intel applications. Plus, Hawkman flies and has greater-than-average strength. Nevertheless, he has mostly been a supporting character in film and television. Still, he had a rare solo spotlight on the 1979 Qube/Nickelodeon motion comic series, Video Comics, which you can find online to celebrate his Earth 1 birthday today.

Motion comics are pretty much what they sound like: a camera panning and scanning over comics pages, while voice actors read the dialogue and descriptive boxes. Early in its existence, the network that became Nickelodeon commissioned the Video Comics motion comic series to serve as filler, licensing content from their corporate cousin DC. Rights were probably unavailable for marquee characters. Regardless, DC apparently saw this as a venue to promote second-tier characters like Hawkman and Swamp Thing or fourth-tier characters like Space Ranger. The series disappeared in the early 1980s and only two legit superhero episodes have escaped online.

“Hawkman” is only nine minutes, adapting a back-up story from a 1970s issue of Detective Comics. In this case, the detective/superhero from Thanagar takes a case that might better suit Scooby-Do and Mystery Incorporated. Someone is regularly stealing from Bleakhill Manor, a converted museum that specializes in military art. However, the thief only takes the replica arms that accompany the priceless art.

Frankly, this storyline does not pass the logic test, but it is pleasant enough on a Scooby-Do level. It also shows Hawkman in his element, wielding hardcore medieval weaponry. However, it it is pretty clear E. Nelson Bridwell’s story was quickly written to fill out pages.

In contrast, “Swamp Thing” is a full 20-minute origin story. Technically, this is Swamp Thing #2, Alec Holland, rather Swamp Thing #1, Alex Olsen (from House of Secrets #92), but they suffer much the same fate. Holland is the Swamp Thing everyone knows from the Wes Craven film and subsequent series. (If DC knew how big Swamp Thing would get, they probably would not have licensed him for Video Comics.)

Holland and his wife Linda are developing a Garden of Eden-like formula in their secret lab nestled in the Louisiana bayous. The government assigned Agent Matt Cable to protect them, but he is a bit of an idiot. However, he waxes quite poetic over the spooky swamp country, where he grew up as a lad. Tragically, he cannot protect Holland from the shadowy syndicate out to buy, steal, or destroy his formula. However, his own research saves his life—but at the cost of his humanity.

Los Frikis, Trying to Rock and Eat in Cuba

In 1991, rock & roll was illegal in Cuba. LGBTQ Cubans were also widely discriminated against. That consequently caused tremendous stigma for HIV patients. Nevertheless, hundreds of Cubans  (especially “Los Frikis” of “The Geeks,” as the punk sub-culture was known) deliberately self-infected, to be admitted to HIV sanitariums, where patients were well-fed (at least while they could still eat). A young teenager joins his older brother’s HIV-positive band in their provincial refuge, but they cannot hide from reality forever in Tyler Nilson & Michael Schwartz’s Los Frikis, which is now available on VOD.

Even by punk rock standards. Gustavo’s older brother Paco is extremely nihilistic. It fuels his music, but causes friction with the family that took the siblings in, after their father was executed in the sugar cane fields, for a minor infraction. They intend to sail to Florida on a makeshift raft, but they only plan to take Gustavo with them.

Since everyone believes AIDS will be cured in a few years, Paco gets an infected jab, believing he can wait out the starvation of Castro’s “special period” in the comfort of an HIV sanitarium. Every one repeat after me: “the alleged superiority of Cuban medicine is a propaganda lie.” Paco will learn that the hard way, However, the care provided by Maria is quite conscientious, but she is not a doctor. She came to the sanitarium to care for her brother and stayed on after his death.

Gustavo also joins his brother, but as a patient. After abandoning the sinking raft, he convinced a doctor to give him a false positive report. Technically, he is perfectly healthy, but he feels shame listening to the other patients’ HIV “pride.” Of course, the local cops do not see it their way.

It is deeply disturbing to think that Cubans like Paco intentionally self-infected, just for the sake of food, but that was the reality of Castro’s Cuba. Ironically, the brothers’ early days in the sanitarium feel like an idyllic respite. Unfortunately, they greatly under-estimate the virulence of AIDS and over-estimate the effectiveness of Castro’s health system.

Thank You Very Much: The Andy Kaufman Doc

When you think about, a lot of people now owe Andy Kaufman an apology. They demonized him for staging wrestling matches against women. He did it precisely because it was an unfair spectacle. Even though Kaufman was no Schwarzenegger, he was still a man. Apparently, society has become as absurd as an Andy Kaufman gag, allowing biological men to pummel women boxers in the Olympics, but everyone is too chicken to observe the irony during Alex Braverman’s documentary, Thank You Very Much, which opens today in New York.

As most fans know by now, Kaufman’s style of comedy was more like performance art than traditional stand-up. Bob Zmuda (a major voice in Braverman’s doc) got it, becoming Kaufman’s longtime writer and collaborator. Yet, Kaufman could project the sad clown persona that came out in characters like Latka Gravas, his beloved character on the Taxi sitcom.

Kaufman also created his abrasive alter-ego, Tony Clifton, who was sadistically annoying to everyone around him. Braverman incorporates chaotic audio of Clifton’s ill-fated guest-starring appearance on Taxi, which compares to Orson Welles’ “Frozen Peas” radio commercial.

Arguably, Kaufman’s “inter-sex” wrestling displays get as much time as Clifton or Taxi, if not more. Understandably so, considering how Kaufman was vilified for what critics considered his loutish manhandling of women. Yet, nobody compares his provocations, which were intended to be outrageous, to a biological male beating a field of women swimmers by entire pool lengths, but seriously, what’s the difference?

So, everyone in Thank You Very Much is too much of a scaredy-cat to make the blindingly obvious comparison. Who knows, maybe Kaufman will. Several of Braverman’s interview subjects readily admit Kaufman often discussed the possibility of faking his death as part of an elaborate gag-hoax. According to Danny Devito, it took him a long time to finally accept the reality of Kaufman’s death.

In addition to Zmuda and Devito, Marilu Henner also talks about their Taxi days, but Judd Hirsch is only heard unloading on Kaufman in his troublemaking Clifton persona. Braverman does not enlist a huge platoon of talking heads, but Steve Martin and fellow merry prankster Bob Pagani offer a fair amount of insight into the subject.

The Hunt, on Viaplay

For the Dutch, this series was obviously directly inspired by the notorious murder of teenaged Marianne Vaatstra. For the rest of us, the drama involving attempts to scapegoat the local asylum-seeker shelter seem very zeitgeisty—or at least reflective of current media preoccupations. It is no spoiler to say Anneke Boorsma was not murdered by a refugee, because writer Willem Bosch and director Michiel van Erp reveal the real killer almost immediately. However, it is a long agonizing process for the police to finally reach that conclusion in the six-episode The Hunt, which starts streaming today on Viaplay.

Before she left the local night club alone, Boorsma had been fighting with her boyfriend, which becomes super-awkward for Jeroen Bovenkamp, because it makes him everyone’s second favorite suspect. Prime suspect #1 is the teen Afghan refugee Fenna Schepenaer claims to have seen making an obscene gesture at her rival for Bovenkamp’s affection. After a mob beats the poor kid, he retreats to Turkey, but the Mayor Kees Vormer has Detectives Syl Frankenaar and Joanna van der Veen extradite him back—only to immediately clear him based on forensic evidence.

Nevertheless, Boorsma’s father Rinus and her thuggish older brother Lukas remain convinced one of the Afghan migrants killed her. At one time, the old man was not such a bad guy, but his grief blinds him to the sinister nature of the nativist extremists his son forges alliances with. Consequently, the sleepy provincial village becomes a powder-keg as the investigation drags on. Meanwhile, Boorsma’s mother falls in with a QAnon-like group of conspiracy theorists, who see ritual satanic killers under every bed.

The Hunt is a bit like Broadchurch, in that it explores the ways the trauma of a murder can profoundly wound a community. However, there is little actual mystery. Even if Bosch and van Erp had not tipped their hands, the killer’s suspiciously twitchy behavior would have made him conspicuously obvious. Thematically (if not necessarily artistically), The Hunt compares more to Crime and Punishment in the way it examines the corrosive power of guilt on the killer as well as his family.

Despite the frequent jumps along the 13-year timeline, van Erp always clearly delineates each temporal shift. This is a starkly realized drama with distinctively severe aesthetic, but it is a ruthlessly downbeat viewing experience. The is no escapism and little assurance offered by the police procedural elements.

The Studio, on Apple TV+

In a way, you could say Continental Studios’ upcoming tent-pole is sort of a Marvel movie, because back in the 1980s, Marvel Comics released five promotional comics featuring the Kool-Aid Man. It was a little weird at the time, but a big-budget Kool-Aid Man movie is a daunting task for Matt Remick, but he had to feign enthusiasm to get promoted to run the studio. He wants to be Robert Evans, but his insecurities are only too obvious in writer-creators Seth Rogan, Evan Goldberg, Peter Huyck, Alex Gregory, and Frida Perez’s 10-episode The Studio, which premieres today on Apple TV+.

Remick loves movies, so he wants his talent to love him back. Instead, they usually blow him off, at least until sleazy CEO, Griffin Mill, promotes him to studio chief, replacing his mentor, Patty Leigh. However, Remick soon offers her a lucrative producing deal to keep her in the fold. He will have many challenges shepherding Kool-Aid, as well as the rest of his upcoming slate, including Ron Howard’s Alphabet City and a Sarah Polley art film.

Fortunately, his core staff remains more-or-less loyal to him, including his hard-drinking buddy Sal Saperstein, his freshly promoted former assistant Quinn Hackett, and the caustic head of marketing, Maya Mason.

Obviously, The Studio takes a great deal of inspiration from Robert Altman’s The Player. It even pays homage to Tim Robbins’ character, the original Griffin Mill. It also features many real-life show business celebrities playing themselves, but some are considerably funnier than others. Frankly, the surprise scene-stealer is Dave Franco (as himself), who pokes fun at his image and career, while going for some big laughs. He even provides perhaps the funniest recap narration in TV history for the concluding episode, a two-part continuation.

Zoe Kravitz is also a very good sport. However, even though filmmaking legends Ron Howard and Martin Scorsese fully commit, their storylines are more cringy than humorous.

Indeed, the writing and execution varies wildly throughout the ten installments. The opener is an okay set-up, but episodes two, three, five, and six set-up excruciatingly uncomfortable situations that just keep piling on, rather than puncturing the tension. However, episode seven has some of the funniest TV/streaming writing of the 2020s that absolutely skewers Hollywood’s DEI mindset. Honestly, there is no way this episode could have been produced three or four years ago. Ice Cube is also savagely funny as himself.

The two-part conclusion, set during CinemaCon, is also vintage door-slamming farce that even pays tribute to Weekend at Bernie’s. It is mostly either feast or famine with The Studio, but episode four, “The Missing Reel,” is sort of an okay middle of the road offering, mostly because Zac Efron’s droll self-portrayal. It also somewhat amusingly uses elements of film noir.

The Frankenstein Complex, OVID.tv

For horror fans, makeup and practical effects artists like Stan Winston and Rick Baker were bigger stars than most of the people in front of the camera. At least that was true in the 1980s and early 1990s. The whole CGI thing unfortunately complicated their business. Some of the best creature creators explain their art and craft in Gilles Penso & Alexandre Poncet’s documentary, The Frankenstein Complex (a.k.a. Creature Designers: The Frankenstein Complex), which premieres today on OVID.tv.

Penso & Ponset’s interview subjects are all makeup and effects artists who still regularly work in the industry, but they explain how everything they create is built on the innovations of the original masters, like Jack Pierce (who designed the Universal monster makeup), Willis O’Brien (who brought King Kong to life), and Ray Harryhausen (the great stop-motion animator, who was the subject of a previous Penso & Poncet doc). In fact, many of the creators specifically credit Pierce’s Frankenstein makeup for inspiring their careers (hence, the title).

In the 80s, Rick Baker emerged as one of the new breed of makeup stars, largely because he worked on both The Howling and An American Werewolf in London, a pair of dueling werewolf movies, whose directors, Joe Dante and John Landis good-naturedly discuss his work and their old rivalry. Although Rob Bottin has since left the business, his colleagues celebrate his work on John Carpenter’s The Thing as a continuing influence on creature designers.

Of course, CGI changed the industry. Most of the interview subjects argue practical and computer-generated effects should be used in concert rather than seen as an either/or proposition. Indeed, many casual genre fans might be surprised to learn from Complex just how many of the effects in both Jurassic Park and Terminator 2 were in fact, practical. Yet, artists like Phil Tippet admit frustration with the over-reliance on CGI, at the expense of his practical artistry.

Earth II: CCP Nuclear Blackmail in Space

This 1971 TV movie feels more realistic today than it did the year it released. When it was produced, Mainland China was still not a UN member, but by the time it aired, the Communist regime had taken Taiwan’s place. In retrospect, that was a huge mistake. In the film (conceived as a TV pilot), the CCP engages in nuclear blackmail, in defiance of the UN. Today, they would do so with UN support. However, the titular international space station is at the greatest risk in Tom Gries’s Earth II, which releases today on BluRay.

Most UN member nations, including the United States, agreed to help finance Earth II and recognize it as a sovereign nation, in the Roddenberry-esque hope that it will develop scientific innovations to solve all our terrestrial problems. The one-world idealists insist Earth II must remain neutral, but hawks like Frank Karger are skeptical. However, the former NASA launch director has the kind of skills Earth II needs, so he immigrates with his family, intending to shape more realistic military and defense policies for the space station.

In contrast, his friend and colleague David Seville strictly advocates for Earth II’s utopian ideals. Unfortunately, reality intrudes when China launches a satellite armed with nuclear warheads, ironically pointed at Moscow (even though the USSR originally supplied the nukes to their socialist brothers). Clearly, screenwriters Allan Balter and William Read Woodfield subscribed to the Sino-Soviet split scenario that was then in vogue.

Rather awkwardly, every rotation Earth II makes round Earth I, they come perilously close to colliding with the CCP satellite. They issue strongly worded diplomatic protests, but the “Red Chinese” (as the film refers to the regime) tells Earth II to go pound sand. Seville is inclined to live with Damocles Sword, but Karger convinces the station through their town meeting-style direct democracy to take active measures to remove the nukes.

Obviously, Gries, Balter, and Woodfield have a greater affinity for Team Seville. Yet, some of the rash, ill-thought-out actions of his fellow peaceniks risk ultimate Armageddon for Earth I. Indeed, the writing is sufficiently smart, to the extent that it greatly muddles the intended message, which actually makes the TV film quite interesting. Earth II also has the distinction of advisory help from both NASA and, believe it or not, Buckminster Fuller, who created the geometric maps displayed in the control room.

Tony Franciosa is surprisingly good as Karger (even though his presence screams “TV movie,” especially since Mariette Hartley portrays his wife, Lisa). However, Gary Lockwood is disappointingly dour and rather unengaged as Seville (especially considering his classic appearance in 2001 and his great guest-shot on Star Trek). On the other hand, Gary Merrill is reliably craggy as veteran operations director Walter Dietrich. It is also worth noting the great James Hong and Soon-tek Oh appear uncredited as the Red Chinese “diplomats.”

In-Flight: Spring Garden

Chang-soo’s garden is nothing like the one Frances Hodgson Burnett described. Frankly, it really is not such a big plot point anyway. There is an evil influence that permeates the entire country house andsurrounding grounds So-hee inherited from her late husband. He secretly designed it to be her dream home, right down to the titular flower patch, but something went very wrong in Ku Born’s Korean horror film, Spring Garden, which is currently available on American Airlines international flights.

Tragically and inexplicably, Chang-soo committed suicide, with no apparent explanation. Naturally, his family blames So-hee, who was just as baffled. She is even more surprised to suddenly inherit her the fabulous country home he secretly designed for her, right down to the “Spring Garden.” However, bad things happen there, as viewers know from the prologue. Of course, the teenagers suffering from the terrible misadventure were also there with nasty intentions.

Eventually, So-hee starts connecting the dots between Chang-soo and the delinquents. However, In-kyeom is still way ahead of her. He is the creepy guy who always skulks around her house. He knows a lot about bad mojo. The question is whether he is fighting it or causing it—or maybe a little of both.

Admittedly, Spring Garden is a fairly convention K-horror film, but it has yet to have significant North American screenings, beyond its in-flight distribution (seriously, you never know what treasures you might find on American international flights). It was inspired by Neulbom Garden, which is allegedly one of Korea’s three most haunted locations (along with Gonjiam Asylum), but the circumstances of Baek Yool-seo’s narrative are very different than the reported Neulbom lore.

Kung Fu Rookie, from Kazakhstan

Timuchin is a prime example of the power of positive thinking. His hard head and fleet fists do not hurt either. Usually, the big city of Almaty eats county bumpkins like him for breakfast, but he is a college grad, who finished his military service and closely studied all of Jackie Chan’s old school HK movies (the good ones). Consequently, the bad guys routinely misunderestimate him in Aman Ergaziyev’s Kung Fu Rookie (a.k.a. Timuchin), which is now available on VOD.

Good natured, lunk-headed Timuchin came to Almaty to apply for the police academy, but his uncle Samat argues he should just find a girl and settle down while he still has time to enjoy starting a family. As fate would have it, Timuchin quickly meets Alua, a civilian academy employee who accepts his paperwork (after a bit of teasing). She also happens to be the daughter of a high-ranking officer and the niece of Samat’s special customer Samal. (Obviously, they are quite compatible—just look at their names.)

Of course, Timuchin won’t back down when Arsen, the neighborhood gang leader acts all thuggish. Timuchin does not look so scary, but he has the moves to teach Arsen and his henchmen a few lessons, but they refuse to learn and keep coming back for more. Eventually, they start coming for Samar and Alua.

Anuar Turizigitov’s screenplay is not exactly brilliantly original, but Ergaziyev’s fight choreography is gleefully inventive, incorporating a host of found objects into the melees. Essentially, this film is an introduction to Timur Baktybayev, to determine whether his martial arts chops and ah-shucks screen presence can carry a film. He passes the test. In fact, he aces it.

There are no special effects tricks, so somehow, Baktybayev must have the same kind of rubber bones and cement head that made Chan so entertaining in his prime. This film has been widely compared to Rumble in the Bronx, with good reason. Indeed, you can see deliberate homages in several fight sequences.

Wonder Woman: Bloodlines

Wonder Woman has always been a particularly military-friendly superhero, thanks to her close relationship with Captain Steve Trevor. Sadly, Trevor was killed in the Wonder Woman All In comic book series. Diana Prince was busy caring for their newborn child, so the killer was brought to justice in issue #16 by Detective Chimp, who is exactly what he sounds like. (Please, please Sam Liu and DC Animated, give the world a Detective Chimp movie.) This is a different timeline, but Prince and Trevor are still immediately interested in each other when he literally drops into Themyscira in Sam Liu & Justin Copeland’s Wonder Woman: Bloodlines, which deserves a re-watch today, the day Prince was originally molded out of clay. (That must have been high quality clay.)

Some kind of kaiju attack Trevor’s air squadron, but Princess Diana (the original one, who didn’t live off UK tax revenue) saves his life. Her mother Hippolyta intends to keep him imprisoned, because she fears “Man’s World.” Yet, ironically, it will be a rogue’s gallery of female supervillains who eventually threaten the hidden Amazonian civilization of Themyscira.

This is indeed a female-dominated story, except for Trevor, but he is definitely a manly kind of guy. Recognizing his sense of duty, Diana helps Trevor escape, so she can help him fight the invading monsters. Presumably, they are successful, since that subplot mysteriously vanishes.

To prepare herself for her career as a superheroine and member of the Justice League (who are mentioned in passing but never seen) Trevor places her with archaeologist Julia Kapatelis, who will teach her about our world and to learn about her civilization. Unfortunately, Kapatelis’s teen daughter feels like Diana steadily steals her mother’s affections—to an extent that creates super-villains.

Indeed, Dr. Poison and Dr. Cyber exploit her rage, mutating her into the Silver Swan. Of course, the transformation process will eventually kill her, but they do not care. They just want to use her as a pawn to find Themyscira and plunder its advanced tech.

Adapted from the Down to Earth comic story arc, Bloodlines works best when it focuses on Princess Diana’s slow-building relationship with Trevor. They really represent one of the great comic book romances. On the other hand, it is a little off-putting to hear Trevor’s intelligence colleague Etta Candy explicitly lusting after Amazons (this is a film kids will watch, after all). In contrast, the old school William Marston-esque scene of a hog-tied super-villainess come across like a knowing wink to Wonder Woman’s history.

Regardless, Rosario Dawson and Jeffrey Donovan nicely express the personas of Wonder Woman and Trevor. It is also cool to hear Michael Dorn as the fan-favorite character, Ferdinand the Minotaur.

Ash, Co-Starring Iko Uwais

The planet dubbed “Ash” by the exploratory team is admittedly a bit of a fixer-upper. The atmosphere is only partially toxic. However, by the Earth’s current standards, that sounds like a pretty good deal. Unfortunately, something else got there first, which is always how things work in movies like Flying Lotus’s Ash, which opens today in theaters.

Dozens of teams were dispatched to prospective planets in hope of finding a suitable refuge from the Earth’s imminent eco-destruction. Ash was looking like a decent candidate, until something went wrong. Riya Ortiz is not sure what happened. She came to with a severe case of amnesia amid the dead bodies of most of her fellow crew, who clearly died violent, grisly deaths.

Eventually, Brion, from their orbiting overwatch comes down to investigate. Obviously, he is a little suspicious of Ortiz and she is a little suspicious of him. He insists she keep medicating, in the hopes that it might temper her possible psychotic eruptions. Nevertheless, she keeps having flashes of memory return, which suggest something not unlike John Carpenter’s The Thing.

It is absolutely bizarre that Flying Lotus (a.k.a. Steven Ellison) gave dramatically more screentime to both Aaron Paul and Elza Gonzalez (who play Ortiz and Brion) than martial arts superstar Iko Uwais, who portrays their commander, Adhi. However, at least he gets a showcase fight sequence that shows off his skills.

To be fair, Paul portrays Brion with convincing shiftiness, but Gonzalez is no Helen Ripley—not even close. Frankly, aside from Uwais, the only crew-member contributing any charisma or screen presence would be Beulah Koale as Kevin (who also happens to be a jazz trumpeter, which is a nice bit of character development).

Most genre fans will also anticipate every beat of Jonni Remmler’s screenplay, well in advance. However, the effects and the gory fight scenes are nicely executed (especially Uwais’s, of course). Arguably, the brutal action sequences help elevate Ash above other Alien-clones (like Life).

1989: A Statesman Opens Up, on OVID.tv

When former Hungarian Prime Minister Miklos Nemeth supported reclaiming the remains of his predecessor, Imre Nagy, from an unmarked grave, so it could have a proper burial, he genuinely risked ending up in one himself. Nagy had supported democratic reforms during the 1956 Hungarian Revolution, which resulted in his trial and execution by the Soviets. Memories of ’56 brutality weighed heavily on Gorbachev when Nemeth decided to loosen restrictions in Hungary, particularly with respect to the borders. When he opened Hungary’s border with East Germany and allowed any crosser with a valid passport to proceed to any nation that would accept them, he largely rendered the Berlin Wall obsolete. At least that is how he remembers it—and he has a valid point. Nemeth looks back on his history-making years as Hungary’s final “Communist” PM in Anders Ostergaard & Erzssebet Racz’s 1989: A Statesman Opens Up, which premieres today on OVID.tv.

Nemeth always had dramatically mixed feeling about the Party. His father did not talk to him for six months after he joined. He was only selected as PM to serve as a technocratic caretaker, who would hopefully arrange more Western loans and credits. Hungary was teetering on the brink of default, so he was shocked to learn the regime spent a large fortune annually on border security—including considerable amounts for border armaments from our ally, France.

Despite clear opposition from Hungarian Party Secretary Karoly Grosz, Nemeth started scaling back border enforcement, starting with the Austrian frontier. Naturally, that alarmed the East German Party boss, Erich Honecker. Grosz was not pleased either, but he really had a fit when Nemeth supported the posthumous rehabilitation of Nagy. Grosz was not an apparatchik to trifle with. He first made a name for himself as part of the Hungarian Workers Militia, working beside the Soviet Army to hunt and kill his fellow countrymen.

Ostergaard, Racz, and Nemeth himself make a strong case the former PM has yet to get the credit he deserves for the fall of Communism. Ironically, he steadfastly advocated for free elections, even though he fully understood he would lose his position as a result. He also played Gorbachev beautifully.

Reconstruction of Occupation, on OVID.tv

Obviously, footage of the Soviet 1968 invasion of Czechoslovakia was dangerous. That is why average Czechs and Slovaks kept it hidden. It was also a valuable historical record, which is why they never destroyed it. Fifty years after the brutal repression of the Prague Spring, filmmaker Jan Sikl shaped extensive excerpts of previously unseen professional and amateur film into the documentary, Reconstruction of Occupation, which premieres tomorrow on OVID.tv.

As a collector of vintage family home movies, Sikl happened to be the guy who often got called when someone uncovered an old reel of film. However, the cache of professionally-produced newsreel footage of the invasion and subsequent protests was something else entirely. Sikl started showing clips on news shows, hoping the demonstrators captured in the act of resistance throughout his footage might come forward. Many did. So did others who were secretly holding film of their own.

Suddenly, Sikl’s small project grew considerably in scope. Like many Czechs, the events of 1968 greatly shaped Sikl’s perspective. Yet, he made a conscious effort to interview those who chose to go along, as well as those who resisted. While Sikl strived to be non-judgmental, the most memorable stories involve those who lost loved ones to the Soviet imperialist invaders. For instance, one woman remembers how her mother responded to her brother’s shooting death, by hoisting his bloody shirt outside their window like a flag—until the Party ordered it down.

It is also fascinating to hear many of the protesters differing responses to Jan Palach’s self-immolation. Some were deeply moved, while others found his suicide deeply disturbing. Yet, in all cases, they still find it acutely painful to discuss.

Centered: Joe Lieberman

Sen. Joe Lieberman was a Democrat, with both capital and small-case “D’s.” He was also a man of deep personal faith and an ardent supporter of the American military, who could often reach out to Republicans. In the year 2000, that made him a potentially game-changing running mate for presidential candidate Al Gore. However, in 2006, those same qualities made him a pariah within his own party. Yet, he remained the same man. Jonathan Gruber chronicles his career in Centered: Joe Lieberman, which will have special nationwide theatrical screenings this today and tomorrow.

Right from the start, Gruber and Lieberman’s family emphasize how his devoutly Jewish working-class parents gave him the faith and values that guided his career. He attended Yale and interned for Abraham Ribbicoff, who remains to this day, Connecticut’s first and only Jewish governor. Subsequently, a Yale Law student named Bill Clinton interned on Lieberman’s state senate campaign.

Thus, began a long, usually close alliance that threatened to fray when Lieberman publicly censured Clinton’s judgment and behavior with respects to the infamous White House intern scandal. That independence and integrity made him an attractive running mate. It also led to a close friendship and fruitful working-relationship with Republican Senator John McCain.

Frankly, the dramatic arc of Lieberman’s career sounds like the unlikely plot of an Allen Drury political thriller. Somehow, the Democratic Party’s 2000 Vice Presidential candidate lost his 2006 senate primary, only to come back and win the general election as an independent. Two years later, he endorsed the 2008 Republican Presidential candidate, McCain, who seriously considered him as his own running mate.

Oddly, Centered misses some opportunities to further burnish Lieberman’s independent credentials. While the film briefly discusses how Lieberman criticized the incumbent Republican Lowell Weicker during his initial U.S. Senate run “from the right,” he overlooks the vocal endorsement and financial support his candidacy received from conservative titan William F. Buckley. By any measure, Weicker was considered more liberal than most Democrats and took great pleasure in antagonizing conservatives. Buckley and other national conservatives recognized Lieberman’s more moderate stances on national security issues and his measured demeanor—and never regretted backing him.

Perhaps tellingly, the only Democratic political figures participating also happen to be from Connecticut or Lieberman’s various campaigns. On the other hand, GOP Senator Lindsey Graham (of South Carolina) and Amb. Cindy McCain (wife of the late Arizona Senator), discuss at length how the Democrat and his two Republican colleagues became the so-called “Three Amigos,” constantly visiting American military posts throughout the world, especially in Iraq and Afghanistan, to get a first-hand understanding of the boots-on-the-ground reality.

Somewhat oddly (given recent events), Lieberman’s steadfast support for Israel receives little attention until late in the film. However, it serves as another illustration of Lieberman’s determination to elevate principle over party, when he passionately decries his former Senate colleague Chuck Schumer, for using the October 7^th terrorist atrocities to attack Benjamin Netanyahu’s administration in Israel.

For the record, Gruber also deserves credit for previously directing several excellent documentaries related to Israel, including Follow Me: The Yoni Netanyahu Story, profiling Bibi’s fallen war-hero brother, and Upheaval: The Journey of Menachem Begin, examining the life and times of the Prime Minister who made peace (more or less) with Egypt through the Camp David Accords.

Arvo Pärt: And Then Came the Evening and the Morning

Arvo Pärt’s compositions combine elements of minimalism, the avant-garde, and sacred music, none of which particularly pleased the old Soviet cultural ministers. Yet, he became the world’s most performed composer in the years 2011-2018 and yet again in 2022. He wasn’t there yet in 1990, but Dorian Supin was present to document Pärt just as his international renown was about to explode. Supin’s intimate profile also keenly reflects the austere aesthetics of its subject. Fittingly, Supin’s Arvo Pärt: And Then Came the Evening and the Morning screens tomorrow at Anthology Film Archives, as part of a new record release.

The film starts while Pärt and his family were still in exile in West Berlin, so obviously much has changed since then. Supin had up-close, personal access, being Pärt’s brother-in-law. He also clearly understands Pärt’s music, especially its deeply spiritual resonance. Indeed, he intuitively grasped the need to hear his music as it is intended to be heard, rather than mere snippets. For instance, playing “Pari Intervallo” over the closing credits, gives it time to sink in, so the audience can get it.

Supin follows Pärt as he rehearses with large orchestras and chorale groups throughout Europe. Ironically, he contrasts Pärt’s growing prestige with man-on-the-street segments, in which nobody recognizes the composer’s name—not even musicians. Again, much has changed.

Devils Stay: A Really Dark Heart

There is no reason for this Korean horror movie to adversely affect organ donation. Donors face no risks (since they are dead already). Unfortunately, this recipient did not reject the heart from a demon-possessed girl. It turns out the invasive demon was transferred right along with it in Hyun Moon-sub’s Devils Stay, which releases tomorrow on VOD and home video.

Poor little Cha So-mi will be a nasty case of demon possession. Father Ban ought to know. He has experienced some bad ones, including his own. That is what motivated him to become an exorcist. He thought he had successfully cast out her demon, but just as the young girl started to calm, she suddenly died.

Her traditional three-day funeral will be particularly hard, because the demon still inside her body starts tormenting the mourners, especially her father, Cha Seung-do. He is also not inclined to accept anymore of Father Ban’s help, even though he is obviously in over his head. Even he will admit as much when he discovers he was set up by a mysterious satanic cultist, when he was cutting corners to arrange So-mi’s organ donor heart.

In fact, Devils Stay turns rather zeitgeisty when the shadowy satanist turns out to be Russian (in light of South Korea’s concern regarding North Korea supplying troops and arms to Russia, for their brutal war in Ukraine). The demonic particulars are also especially sinister.

Indeed, Devils Stay is an insidiously effective demonic horror film that bends (if not breaks) the template in several places. It is tense and scary—and good gosh, do we ever feel bad for the poor beleaguered Cha family.

First Look ’25: Chronicles of the Absurd

Unfortunately, for Miguel Coyula and his collaborator-muse, Lynn Cruz, being an independent artist is illegal in Cuba. That is not my analysis. Those are the words of multiple government officials whom they secretly recorded. The apparatchiks did not just tell them. They also laid down the law for photographer Javier Caso, who happens to be the brother of Anna de Armas (whose roles they approved of). You can hear the censoring and the not so veiled threats for yourself in Coyula’s documentary, Chronicles of the Absurd, which screens today as part of First Look 2025.

Shot over the course of several years, Absurd initially documents the long, arduous production of their dystopian film, Corazon Azul. Eventually, it cost Cruz her livelihood, because she was expelled from the actors’ union, but never properly informed. She even sort of successfully challenges her expulsion, winning reinstatement along with the immediate, legally required 30-days-notice of her second, permanent ejection.

Routinely, their attempts to attend screenings of their past films are blocked by cops and secret police, who refuse to identify themselves. Accustomed to the harassment, Coyula and Cruz regularly leave home with secret cell phones hidden on their bodies recording whatever might transpire. Indeed, such recordings make up nearly the film’s entire audio track. Although they have no corresponding video, they use cleverly monstrous looking stand-in icons and slyly selected photos for bureaucrats with an online footprint, creating dramatic montages.

Frankly, Absurd would be quite amusing in a farcical and aptly absurd way, if it were also not so Orwellian. Clearly, Cruz and Coyula are not paranoid. Caso similarly employs their cell phone technique to capture the secret police trying to scare him away from his longtime friends. Fortunately for Caso, his relationship with his famous sister provides him some degree of protection.

First Look ’25: The Vanguard Tapes (short)

This film couldn’t be made in the same way today. That is because the venerable Village Vanguard jazz club no longer has a kitchen—at least not one that requires a paid dish-washer. However, from 1991 to 1995, filmmaker Bill Morrison washed dishes in the Vanguard kitchen. Evidently, even back then the kitchen-area was a hang-space for musicians between sets and their guests. Morrison quickly realized he should film some of their candid banter. Jazz fans finally get to hear some of the comradery in the short film (possibly an excerpt of a longer future project) The Vanguard Tapes, which screens today as part of First Look 2025.

Jazz fans will immediately understand the appeal of this film when they hear the two most prominent voices are alto-sax player Lou Donaldson and pianist Harold Mabern. They were both amazing musicians and wonderful showmen, who routinely cracked up both their audiences and sidemen in between numbers. Whether it is Donaldson talking about playing his numbers and betting on horses, or Mabern recapping his favorite soap opera, you can understand why Morrison felt compelled to record these slices of the behind-the-scenes jazz life.

Logically, there are also very serious discussions of music. Trumpeter Danny Moore pulls no punches with his critical appraisals of Wayne Shorter and Herbie Hancock. (It should be noted, this was the early 1990s. By the late 1990s, Shorter was enjoying a career renaissance returning to the acoustic hardbop he played before his Weather Report years.)

October 8, in The Epoch Times

OCTOBER 8 is a sober and thoroughly damning examination of the hatred directed at Jews (especially Jewish students) following the horrific 10/7 Hamas attrocities. It is hard to dismiss its urgent warnings, unless you share the violent prejudice it exposes. EPOCH TIMES review up here.

Dope Thief, on Apple TV+

In 2021, a couple of Philly ex-con lunkheads like Ray Driscoll and Manny Carvalho do not have many opportunities for gainful employment while the world slowly rouses from the COVID shutdown. Conveniently, there was one business that did not observe closure mandates: drug trafficking. Posing as DEA agents, the duo shakedown marginal drug houses not affiliated with the major cartels. However, Covid still wreaked havoc on the illicit supply chains nearly as much as it did for legal trade. Consequently, when Driscoll and Carvalho unknowingly knock over a big-time meth lab, it ignites a whole lot of trouble for the product-hungry gang and even more so for themselves in creator Peter Craig’s eight-episode Dope Thief, which premieres today on Apple TV+.

Driscoll is in denial, but Carvalho recognizes this is what they do. They are not Robin Hoods. Shadowy Son Pham put them in business with fake DEA badges and bullet proof vests. They keep the cash and he flips the drugs they “confiscate.” It usually works out well, until Carvlho’s recently released friend Ricky suggests a score way outside their usual territory.

It soon becomes evident Ricky set them up when their fake bust turns into a blood bath. Driscoll and Carvalho shoot several meth heads in self-defense, including, rather awkwardly, an undercover Fed. They thought they’d also killed Mina, another undercover agent, but somehow, she slipped away, with a bullet lodged in her throat. Unfortunately, they cannot interrogate Ricky, who also took a fatal bullet. Even worse, the sinister mastermind who keeps calling Driscoll clearly knows who they are—and who they care about.

For Driscoll, that only means Theresa Bowers, his jailbird father Bart’s tough-talking girlfriend, who has raised Ray like a son. He pretends to hate his incarcerated dad, but his feelings are clearly more conflicted than he lets on. He even agrees to work with Michelle Taylor, a pro bono lawyer trying to secure Bart’s compassionate release, at Bower’s request. He will probably need her services, as the cartels, biker gangs, and the real DEA all start circling him.

Dope Thief starts off with a bang. Perhaps not so coincidentally, the first episode also happens to be directed by executive producer Ridley Scott. Frankly, he probably should have adapted Dennis Tafoya’s source novel as a feature film. Episodes one and two are gritty and tense, but the middle installments are bloated and sometimes even a little aimless. The entire subplot focusing on Mina’s recovery and quest for not exactly revenge but something sort of like that clearly feel like padding—even though Marin Ireland is quite good in the role. These detours just take the audience too far away from Driscoll and the ominous voice (who sometimes falls silent for full episodes).

On the other hand, Dustin Nguyen is a shockingly quiet scene-stealer, who often upstages his flashier co-stars as Pham, the suburban family-man gangster, whose complicated relationship with Driscoll incorporates both loyalty and exploitation.  As Driscoll, Brian Tyree Henry develops terrific chemistry with multiple cast members, definitely including Nguyen. Yet, his work alongside the wonderful Kate Mulgrew, as Bowers, really gives the series a lot of heart. This is really some of Mulgrew’s best work yet.