An intelligent, extreme naturalist dad raises his six naturalist kids alone in the wild. After being informed that his hospitalized, Buddhist, bipolar wife has killed herself, the dad and his kids decide to travel—through their rejected capitalist society—to protest her traditional Christian funeral despite his father-in-law’s warnings. Captain Fantastic follows a conventional indie-drama pattern: being quirky, then sad, then quirky, then sad, then quirky—its soundtrack and camerawork likewise being very “indie for the sake of being indie". I’m indifferent to the first-third, hate the second-third, and unexpectedly really enjoy the finale. Captain Fantastic’s problem is how incredibly patronizing its main family can get (their way is always correct), and how one-sidedly supportive the film is to their beliefs: continuously giving them scenes where the capitalist system is portrayed at its lowest points, while the challengers are either right-wing extremists (who are equally as single minded in an entirely different manner) or too dense to come up with even half-decent arguments.
What makes Captain Fantastic’s condescending attitude especially infuriating is the film’s own errors and inconsistencies—such as how a family who survive yearly on natural sugars could possibly eat a rich chocolate cake without any consequences, and why the kids react so taken aback to a mildly violent Street Fighter-esc video game when they’ve been trained to slaughter deer with knives and eat their hearts raw (one would think some pixelated graphics would be laughable to them). The last third almost makes up for the film’s faults, however, properly tackling the dad’s parenting flaws, while creating some actually emotional scenes with music and cinematography that effectively fit the setting rather than being artsy-fartsy. The finale is a really good example of a film redeeming itself: giving its protagonist satisfying character development, in addition to a mature compromise towards raising his kids. Even with its redeeming last third, Captain Fantastic is still not my cup of tea, though it’s ultimately not a bad film.
Don’t Breathe:
Similar to The Shallows, Don’t Breathe is a classic popcorn horror-thriller: a fun flick with a singular, unique premise (teen burglars getting trapped in a blind, yet dangerous man's house) to draw viewers in. Don’t Breathe doesn’t deliver anything new or innovative to the horror-thriller genre—it follows the tropes its predecessors paved, but does so in a way that’s engaging even when predictable. The film has some impressive cinematography that adds to the atmosphere building, while the acting—aside from a few unintentionally humorous moments—is credible enough to keep the suspense rolling. I particularly enjoyed the pitch-black basement scene, where the atmosphere becomes wonderfully tense as the teens helplessly struggle in the dark while their adversary swiftly glides through it (using memorization of the layout to guide him).
The film’s twist, while disturbing and foreshadowed well, is somewhat disappointing and a bit cheesy in execution (along with some questionable fridge logic). The use of violence is Don’t Breathe’s highlight; by reducing the amount of visual blood and gore, its brutality becomes startlingly realistic and all the more distressing to watch. This may sound more questionable than intended, but I appreciate the film showcasing its antagonist brutally beating up the female lead—as he did with the male lead—over the more typical male-attacking-female tropes, such as the overused knockout slap.
The film’s twist, while disturbing and foreshadowed well, is somewhat disappointing and a bit cheesy in execution (along with some questionable fridge logic). The use of violence is Don’t Breathe’s highlight; by reducing the amount of visual blood and gore, its brutality becomes startlingly realistic and all the more distressing to watch. This may sound more questionable than intended, but I appreciate the film showcasing its antagonist brutally beating up the female lead—as he did with the male lead—over the more typical male-attacking-female tropes, such as the overused knockout slap.
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies:
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies is an unforgivably dull film for such a wacky mashup. The film is, essentially, Pride and Prejudice occasionally interrupted by mindless bouts of zombie slaying that hardly change the original’s plot direction and characters. The story is jarringly unbalanced between classic tale and modern parody: spending long periods on romantic-drama, then briefly reminding its audience there are zombies in the film, before moving right back to its drama. The action scenes are bland and generic, to the point where the scenes about “proper manners” are less lethargic.
While the first two-thirds are harmlessly bland, PP&Z’s last third shows a remarkable amount of thoughtlessness: introducing the concept of intelligent, non-cannibalistic zombies—giving the plot a multitude of possibilities for interesting, new directions—only to quickly discard it, in a remarkably tactless manner, for a formulaic conclusion. By the end, I felt sympathetic towards the “enemy” zombies’s plight, which is more than I felt for the dozens of bland, forgettable humans.
Talluhah:
While Talluhah’s acting is solid, the plot rollercoasters between interesting and trite. Every time the film takes an attention-grabbing direction, it adds on two overused clichés for the ride. Several of the film’s plot points end rather abrupt and inconclusive, including an enjoyable romantic subplot that's simply forgotten by the conclusion. Tallulah manages to barely overcome its flaws thanks to its lead actresses Ellen Page and Allison Janney—who deliver emotionally powerful performances as two fleshed out, likable characters. Tallulah is available as a Netflix original, and is worth a rainy-day view for those who can stream it.
