'Sweetheart' is a Creature Feature for the Me Too Movement (Review)

Image Courtesy of Universal Pictures and Blumhouse

Sweetheart is a creature feature for the Me Too movement and its message is clear: Believe women. They expose monsters.

The film wastes no time introducing its heroine, Jennifer Remming (Kiersey Clemons), who has washed ashore a tropical island and is in the process of gaining consciousness. Brad, a shipwrecked friend of Jenn, is barely clinging to life in the water, and he succumbs to his injuries after being pulled onto the shore. Now alone, Jenn explores the island, discovering the possessions and graves of a family who visited there some time ago. Seeing the graves of the family members prompts her to bury Brad in the sand, but when she wakes the following morning, she finds his body uncovered and heavily feasted upon. With very few supplies and something deadly roaming the island, Jenn is forced into the ultimate battle for survival. 

What director J.D. Dillard (Sleight) accomplishes here is worthy of praise. On the surface, Sweetheart works as a straightforward monster movie. A woman washes ashore on a deserted island and is terrorized by a creature that only comes out at night. Dillard is tremendously effective at building suspense and revealing the creature at his own pace (one distant shot of the monster was so great that I had to rewind and see it again immediately), then showcasing a knack for horror action when it finally attacks. Sweetheart could’ve been nothing more than a simple monster flick and it would’ve been just fine, but in the hands of Dillard, co-writers Alex Hyner and Alex Theurer, and star Kiersey Clemons, it’s much more than that. 

Sweetheart is an allegory for the here and now and always. For the plight of women and other victims who have come forward during the Me Too movement and had their stories met with hesitation or flat-out disbelief. When two more survivors of the shipwreck make their way to the island, Jenn warns them. This place isn’t what it appears to be. It’s dangerous and you’re not safe. These characters, one of them being Jenn’s own boyfriend, do not believe her. How could this gorgeous island paradise be harboring something nasty and violent? They tell her she’s crazy, bring up her troubled past and write off her claims. Sound familiar? It’s in this commentary that Sweetheart truly shines.

As good as the film and its message are, though, none of it would be nearly as effective without the mesmerizing central performance from Kiersey Clemons. The actress is tasked with carrying the film and a vast array of emotions almost entirely by herself and she nails every little nuance. In a decade that’s been filled with special performances by women within the horror genre, Clemons closes it out by joining their ranks. 

Final Thoughts:

Sweetheart is one of the best horror offerings of 2019. It’s equally as effective of a creature feature as it is an allegory for coming forward with your story, and Kiersey Clemons dominates every frame of it. It’s a strong recommendation from me.

Sweetheart is now streaming on Netflix!

'Eli' Entertains With Confident Absurdity (Review)

We're only a few days out from the first game of the 2019 World Series, so I'll begin this review with a baseball analogy. Eli, Netflix's latest original horror film, is not a home run. It's not an RBI triple, a double, or a line-drive single that sneaks past the short stop for a base hit. No, Eli is something else entirely. This is the film equivalent of stepping up to the plate with two outs and the game on the line, and surprising your opponent with a bunt. It's a baffling decision, but one that calls for a tremendous amount of confidence. Confidence in your precision as a bunting batter, as well as confidence in your speed as a runner. If you're thrown out at first base and your team loses the game, every media outlet and fan around the world will question your decision. If you make it safely to the base, though, those same naysayers will commend the play and the confidence it took to pull it off successfully. Eli is that very bunt, and goddammit, it's safe at first. 

Directed by Ciaran Foy (Sinister 2), Eli follows its titular character - a young boy with a disease that forces him to live in protective gear due to extreme and painful allergic reactions to the outdoors - as he enters a facility to be treated for his condition. Sealed off from the outside, the child is overjoyed to finally remove his protective gear and interact with his parents (Kelly Reilly & Max Martini) in a somewhat normal manner. However, Eli soon discovers that the facility he's being kept in is haunted and that the doctors who occupy it may not be what they seem. 

Eli defies logic in the sense that every last second of it is just ridiculous and absurd, but also, and more importantly, because that confident absurdity works in its favor. Foy's ability to take this story seriously and deliver it to us straight is a miracle in and of itself. His assured tone in the face of nonsense is the crowning achievement of this production. Not to be overlooked are the performances of Charlie Shotwell as sickboy himself, Kelly Reilly as his loving mother, and Lili Taylor as the potentially untrustworthy doctor. Shotwell in particular shoulders most of the weight and his performance is likable enough for viewers to remain invested (Child actors sometimes have the opposite effect) even when the story goes off the rails. 

But it's the extent to which the story goes off the rails that ultimately makes Eli such a recommendable film. It's hardly the best horror movie of 2019. It doesn't even belong in the discussion. Still, it's undeniably one of the most entertaining. It takes bold, bat-shit crazy risks with unwarranted confidence, and that alone makes this a must-see viewing experience. It's an underdog, and underdogs are easy to root for. 

By the time its insane climax came to a close, I was clamoring for a sequel that follows the remaining characters down the new path that the film had set them on. Will that ever happen? Unlikely. But, sometimes, despite the odds stacked against them, the bunter makes it to first base. 

Score: 3.25/5

What Lurks 'In the Tall Grass' (Review)

Fear is a funny thing, really. I'm afraid of heights, but somewhere in the world, some crazy bastard is jumping out of an airplane for fun right now. Some people are afraid of horror movies, but I watch them in order to sleep comfortably at night. It feels as though no two fears are the same, yet, the truth is, we're all afraid of what's waiting for us in the tall grass. In the great unknown of our lives. Each and every decision we make can feel like wandering through a field with thick grass grown up over our heads and no clear-cut path of escape. We are left with our decisions and we are left with our fear of what's lurking behind them. Our fear of the future we can't see or even begin to comprehend. Our fear of mistakes and where they may leave us. The tall grass. 

In the Tall Grass - based on the novella (it's more of a short story) of the same name by Stephen King and Joe Hill - was written for the screen and directed by Vincenzo Natali (Cube, Splice) and it plays as a metaphor for those very fears. The film follows siblings Becky and Cal (Laysla De Oliveira & Avery Whitted), who are on a road trip to San Diego. Nauseated due to her pregnancy, Becky convinces Cal to pull off the side of the road so that she can vomit. They park beside a seemingly infinite field of tall grass and become concerned when they hear a young boy calling for help from somewhere inside. They venture into the grass to help the boy find his way out, only to become lost themselves and at the mercy of the sinister presence that resides there. 

Netflix has a knack for grabbing the rights to less-popular Stephen King adaptations. 2017 saw the streaming service release Gerald's Game and 1922 - both of them being among the very best Netflix original films - and they've done so again with In the Tall Grass, which joins the previous two titles in regard to its greatness. It would be a near-impossible task for any film adaptation to usurp the haunting and brutal story by King and the supremely talented Joe Hill, but Natali's take on the source material is an impressive stab at doing so. Along with the eerie, disorienting cinematography by Craig Wrobleski, Director Natali sows those seeds within our consciousness and urges viewers to observe their own journey through the tall grass while laying out a mind-bending nightmare for the characters of the film. 

At the center of that nightmare is a scene-stealing Patrick Wilson (The Conjuring, Insidious) who feels as though he was destined to chew on the meat of a Stephen King character. Hopefully this won't be the last time he's given a chance to do so. To talk more about his performance would lead into spoiler territory, and we certainly don't want that. "Laws no, we don't!" another King character might say. The rest of the cast carries their own weight here as well, with Harrison Gilbertson (Upgrade) especially standing out and allowing his character to gain unexpected sympathy from the audience.

The story isn't a long one and there's just barely enough material to stretch into a 90-minute film that, for the majority of its runtime, features characters wandering through grass and trying to find an exit. That the film remains gripping throughout is a testament to the atmosphere that Natali and Wrobleski manage to conjure, the patience Natali shows in layering the film with new elements at his own pace, and the engaging performances. One way or another, we all end up in the tall grass. You might as well start now.

In the Tall Grass is now streaming on Netflix.

Score: 4/5