And a Merry Christmas to you: Charlene Tilton in ‘Final Recovery’.
FINAL RECOVERY *** (96 minutes)
Plenty of odd, tightly wound goings on at the suburban drugs and alcohol recovery facility in this well-mounted slow-burn psych-drama as the haggard residents try figuring out what their motherly, sweet-talking administrator Nanny Lou (Charlene Tilton) is up to. There’s something up with the drug supply and people are going missing. Could such a lovely lady have anything to do with any of it?
Director Harley Wallen (working from words by Jerry Lee Davis & Nick Theurer) cleverly keeps from showing the film’s horror hand until the ripper payoff (just beware of the overdone strobe lighting).
Channeling the ghost of Nurse Ratched (Louise Fletcher) from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Tilton makes for an unnerving study in carefully administered cruelty, anchoring the mysterious proceedings with a potent cocktail of sugar and subterfuge.
For those unfortunate souls unaware of her formidable pop cultural legacy, Charlene Tilton was one of the glamourous stars in the mega-hit TV series Dallas (1978-91) and a much-favoured magazine subject, especially on covers aimed at a male demographic.
Great seeing her in such fine fettle as she delivers the menace here.
THE DREADFUL PLACE *** (96 minutes)
Guilt over the death of her alcoholic father has driven Gen Z diner waitress Willow (Keaton McLachlan) in a spiralling nightmare from which she cannot escape in a crafty, well-crafted frightfest that shows more imagination than a lot of studio psych-horror efforts.
Writer/director Cole Daniel Hills (who also stars) signals familiarity with the sub-genre by grounding the locale-jumping nature of his jagged suburban dreamscapes with an oddly coherent visual and emotional logic that keeps the craziness from getting out of control. (Guessing here he knows of Ken Russell’s dabblings, especially Gothic.)
Performances throughout are exceptionally strong, with a magnetic McLachlan centre-frame bringing it in almost every scene as Willow endures a ruthless series of seemingly unending horrors, with friends popping up in a variety of disturbing guises – a conceit very effectively deployed.
Abigail Fawn as bestie Emma and Daved Olivencia as Willow’s troubling ex-boyfriend Chris clock in with pungent, cutting support.
All up, a challenging concept very well done with inventive production values that largely manage to keep its low-budget pedigree hidden from view as we follow Willow trekking through her troubled mind.
THE ENCAMPMENTS **1/2 (81 minutes)
Those thirsty for a sober, impartial dissection of the pro-Palestine protests that swept across the US (and other countries) in the wake of Israel’s response to the Hamas massacre on 7 October 2023 will likely be enraged by the blatantly biased views offered by The Encampments.
Yet tempting as it is to dismiss such a large slice of propaganda, the documentary – if one dares call it such – does offer some insights into how such works are constructed.
Very slickly made with a clear agenda to preach to the converted rather attempt to sway minds with reason and sound argument, the film tracks the evolution of the protest movement from its ignition point on the grounds of Columbia University in New York.
The presentation of the issue is meticulously one-sided and, it must be said, admirably crafted.
The interviewees all speak calmly in studio settings, usually swathed in keffiyeh scarves as they outline the gross injustice of Israel’s retaliation against Hamas, the terrorist organisation responsible for the atrocities of 7 October.
Hamas is barely mentioned throughout, and there is no emphasis on the innocents killed or examination of Israel’s response to determine whether it was justified or proportionate. It is simply presented as an act of genocide, another stance that is neither questioned nor challenged.
All views from the other side are restricted to highly emotive news grabs and sound bites, showing Jewish counter protesters as invariably violent and ill-tempered. The police officers called in to deal with the protesters are cast as violent agents of the pro-Israeli state.
The skill with which these montages are assembled is so exacting and partisan it puts one in mind of Michael Moore at his influential peak. His wily use of music is also echoed throughout.
Receiving much attention is protest leader Mahmoud Khalil, the controversial figure presently the subject of a deportation effort. He is portrayed as a hero treated unfairly by the system he denounces, a situation still in play. One news grab has him saying some reasonable things about the importance of justice for both sides, but this salient point is never developed.
At the heart of protests is the demand that the university end its alliances with organisations deemed to be in support of Israel, including allegations of conflicting interests. Again, much mention is made of the issue, but no analysis or counter argument is offered.
Given the presumption of the protest movement’s righteousness and the unwillingness to apply balance or critical thinking, the film is, at best, half a documentary.
As it is, The Encampments seeks only to deepen convictions already held rather than change minds or invite viewers to rethink what they think they know.
Film website and screening info
MURDER BALLADS: HOW TO MAKE IT IN ROCK’N’ROLL ** (97 minutes)
This self-consciously goofy satire about the rock music business and its associated perils – fame; envy; drugs; copyright infringement; wanton killing – sports a great premise but possesses neither the pace nor crazed energy to totally pull the heightened soiree off.
When a prim young keyboardist (Imogen Wilde) applies for a job with metal band Stack of Corpses she discovers what a competitive, cut-throat business it is – and that’s before she gets out of the rest room in the reception area.
Her subsequent dealings with the band’s trippy lead singer (Rhiann Connor), bassist (Fran Mcateer) and drummer (Luke de Belder) expose them as largely talentless, substance-loving layabouts whose path to chart success involves pilfering a song from Richard O’Keefe (Simon Callow) a freshly deceased rock icon.
Much mayhem ensues involving Russian hoodlums – the default heavies in films these days – drugs, double crossing and violence, usually ending in death or with unconvincing special effects (sometimes both).
The film certainly can’t be faulted for its excess of loopy ideas or its excess, only director Mitchell Tolliday (who co-wrote with producer Neil Rickatson) struggles to summon the necessary drive to make the havoc click.
It doesn’t help that the performance quality is patchy, with Wilde far out-shining her co-stars.
And while getting a veteran such as Simon Callow to sign on is something, it is also a dubious asset given how high he sets the bar and spends his screen time in one-on-one addresses to the camera.
The piece is also too long by about 10 minutes, with too many jokey asides that slow the pace. It feels like the piece is short a polish or two, the golden rule of thumb being to get the story into the best possible shape, take a stiff drink, then go over it again and target your darlings. One wonders how much better Murder Ballads would have been at 85 minutes.
Questionable, too, was the curious decision to have several sequences run in non-linear order. It’s distracting rather than clever and feels like an experimental tick that didn’t pan out.
The film does have its moments, yet it lands squarely as a noble attempt at an ambitious premise in need of more verve and comic discipline.
For more info on the film and how to see it go here.
To watch the film on Prime Australia go here.