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RED ROOMS
Red Rooms is one focused and engaging picture, a character study wrapped entirely around its protagonist’s mysterious motives that become increasingly disconcerting with each passing moment. Its arrival amid the trial of convicted murderer Wade Wilson—and the subsequent social media frenzy—feels especially relevant. The question of “Why?” permeates the viewer’s mind as a form of obsession escalates in Kelly-Anne (Juliette Gariépy), whose fascination and laser focus on the serial killer Ludovic Chevalier (Maxwell McCabe-Lokos) and his trial is something many would view as unhealthy and unstable, even as it propels her toward her mysterious goal. This causes that question of “Why?” to never grow repetitive in the hands of writer/director Pascal Plante, who raises the story’s stakes significantly without forgetting he’s making a slow-burn thriller. His artistic decision to heavily feature long takes lets Red Rooms’ actors emote more freely, which helps build tension between characters’ reactions of plot information and general distrust of one another through the lens of cinematographer Vincent Biron. Red Rooms is certainly a disturbing and slow piece of cinema, starring a lead that may feel too cold and distant for some to hang with for two hours. But as a psychological glimpse into the cliche question of “How far are you willing to go to achieve something?”, it feels proudly yet subtly extreme as a beautiful tale of suspense. Red Rooms never shows itself as a disposable product, instead insisting to be intensely alive. NR MAX FAINARU-WADA. Regal Fox Tower.
BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE
Beetlejuice Beetlejuice was so good I’d say it a third time just to relive the feelings I had watching it in the theaters. Despite coming from Hollywood’s neverending obsession with nostalgia, this flick delivers a creatively modern take on a beloved character. Lydia Deetz (Winona Ryder) has a paranormal podcast produced by her new-age narcissistic toy boy Rory (Justin Theroux) she met at a retreat while grieving the death of her estranged father, Charles Deetz (Mark Heenhan and Charlie Hopkinson, with archival photos of registered sex offender Jeffrey Jones). At Charles’ funeral, Lydia reunites with her stepmother, Delia (Catherine O’Hara), and her nepo baby daughter, Astrid (Jenna Ortega), who denies her fiscal and phantasmic legacy. Seeing Betelgeuse (Michael Keaton) alone on screen initially feels a bit underwhelming, but once Beetlejuice and Lydia finally reunite on-screen it’s nothing short of electric. Betelgeuse remains the scene stealing horny demon we all wanted to fuck after witnessing him airhump his way over to a miniature whorehouse in the first movie. This scene is full of non-stop laughs and insane special effects that weren’t even possible in 1988. But the film’s worst part is the “Soul” Train. Director Tim Burton has received criticism for his lack of diversity in films, especially featuring Black people. He made sure to be inclusive in this film with a psychedelic afterlife scene showcasing a dance sequence comprised of Black dancers driving a train of undead folks seemingly in ‘70s attire. This is hands down the most tragic part of an otherwise perfect film. Burton seems like he was pressured to crowbar Black folks—literally shucking and jiving like a minstrel show caricature of Black culture kept out of his previous films—into Beetlejuice Beetlejuice with what could have been an otherwise innocent reference to the original Motown dance program Soul Train. Except for this flaw, If you love reliving nostalgia or live for Halloween, Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is a great way to kick off spooky season. PG-13 JAGGER BLAEC Cinemark Century Eastport Plaza 16, Regal Pioneer Place, Studio One Theaters.
REBEL RIDGE
Best remembered for the gnarled hyperviolence of Blue Ruin (2013) and the Oregon-made Green Room (2015), writer-director Jeremy Saulnier might more accurately be described as a “collision-course specialist.” Few filmmakers like better to pit unstoppable forces against immovable objects and slowly wring the tension. Saulnier’s latest in that mold is Rebel Ridge, in which a solitary ex-Marine, Terry (Aaron Pierre), takes on an entire rural Louisiana police force—a unit captained by Don Johnson and with a penchant for seizing assets from the wrong strangers. Pierre’s performance, in particular, is carefully studied. He’s economical in his still-hulking movements and conspicuously calm—all of which suggest the breaking point to come. Much as in Saulnier’s last outing, Hold the Dark (2018), the best set piece in Rebel Ridge arrives subversively early, and then the film meanders through its dread-soaked atmosphere for a while. Granted, there’s a reason First Blood (the film’s most obvious influence) is 93 minutes long. At no point in the extra 40 that Saulnier takes do we ever think that Tony or Chief Burns (Johnson) are capable of anything less than violent heroism and smirking self-preservation—respectively, of course. But they sound great talking about those qualities. “Civil unrest is a growth industry,” the chief quips to Tony while first running him out of town. Tony has some good retorts throughout, but none better than wrapping an assault rifle around a corrupt cop’s head. TV-MA. CHANCE SOLEM-PFEIFER. Netflix.
THE FRONT ROOM
The Front Room was trumpeted as singer-actress Brandy’s return to horror, but even her star power can’t lift up this unsatisfying psychological thriller. Belinda (Brandy) is a heavily pregnant professor who quits her job while grieving the loss of her first child. Her lawyer husband, Norman (Andrew Burnap), reunites with his estranged family after his father’s sudden death. With their financial stability shaken, Belinda and Norman agree to take in his ailing stepmother, Solange (Kathryn Hunter), to secure an inheritance. Shortly after her arrival, Solange’s racial and religious microaggressions toward Belinda soon affect the household, beginning with a prayer group circling, touching, and speaking in tongues when Belinda brings home the baby. Max and Sam Eggers, The Front Room’s twin writer-directors, gave their cast cinematic busywork, loading up on familiar domestic horror tropes—a distracted work-focused partner, a nonstop crying newborn, a mother-in-law from hell—that will hamper the movie’s momentum if viewers realize nothing new happens. While the film’s cast was able to convey powerful feelings of frustration, anxiety, and even disgust, The Front Room should have tidied up to join the ranks of this year’s horror greats. R. RUDY VALDEZ. Cinemark Century Easport Plaza 16, Regal Fox Tower.