Krampus (Michael Dougherty, 2015)

Due to a fascination with the Krampus myth (we need something harsher than mere coal in your stocking to scare American children into being good), I had high hopes for this film. But the beast doesn't even show its face until 77 minutes into a 97-minute movie. Before then, the monsters are various evil snowmen, animated killer toys, and some goblin types (I think - many cat naps were had). Why director/co-writer Michael Dougherty had Sid's toys from Toy Story take center stage instead of, um, Krampus remains a mystery. How he roped some fairly substantial names such as Adam Scott, Toni Collette, and Conchata Farrell into a excruciatingly dull, painfully unfunny bad-family horror-comedy remains a mystery as well. As I always say about such botches, I hope the catering was good. And the best I can say for this particular botch is that unless someone can convince me that any of the Krampus sequels or offshoots are at Jeanne Dielman x Aftersun levels of greatness, I will be saving many precious minutes avoiding them all.

Grade: D

The Banshees of Inisherin (Martin McDonagh, 2022)

One doesn't want to be ungrateful since The Banshees of Inisherin is quantum leaps better than Martin McDonagh's previous outing, the juvenile, execrable Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri (2017). Still, it suffers the fate of so much Oscar bait before it - all its roads lead to a Message. It starts off as a promising Mikey and Nicky (Elaine May, 1976) variation. During the Irish Civil War in 1923 on the fictional isle of Inisherin, two long-time friends have a sudden falling out. Colm (Brendan Gleeson) wants nothing more to do with Pádraic (Colin Farrell). When Pádraic presses for a reason why, Colm tells him that he's boring. Furthermore, any attempts at rekindling the friendship will result in Colm cutting off one finger per attempt. Since Pádraic keeps pressing the matter, Colm starts to lose fingers, each bloody stump thrown against Pádraic's door to prove Colm means business. Unable to move on from Colm's toxic behavior, Pádraic devises his own violent retribution.

Gleeson and Farrell inhabit their characters with a depth worthy of an Oscar which I predict Farell will win. Not only do we feel Pádraic's pain at being ghosted but we grasp Colm's longing for a more meaningful existence than that available mindlessly chatting with Pádraic at the pub every night. Colm is older so he's feeling his last act approach which provides further justification for his coldness, devastating and just plain mean though it is. 

As the war rages on in the background, though, it's clear McDonagh meant the absurdity of the central conflict as an allegory for the Irish Civil War. Instead of recognizing Pádraic as his brother, Colm cuts off his nose to spite his face (or fingers to spite his hand). But that's about as deep as McDonagh takes it. A colleague suggested that to pin the traditionally female designation of banshee on Colm and Pádraic upholds Siobhán (Kerry Condon), Pádraic's sister, as a voice of reason and marks the moment when she leaves in disgust as the point at which the film descends into irreversible tragedy. But all of this is implied in the phrase "Civil War." It remains unclear what exactly McDonagh is trying to say about the event. I knew nothing about the Irish Civil War going in and I know a teensy bit more now. And as always with these kind of eat-your-veggies projects (like, oh, Spotlight), I'd much rather read the Wiki about it, especially given dutiful, by-the-numbers direction which stymies any desire for further exploration.

Grade: B

Bones and All (Luca Guadagnino, 2022)

One aspect of sci-fi and fantasy and even horror that I cannot stand is the necessity, if not overabundance, of explanation - world building or origin stories or plumbed childhoods designed to justify why the supernatural/mayhem is happening, a dreary, utilitarian waste of time in my experience. It's why the musical is my favorite Hollywood genre; spontaneous outbursts of song are just that - singing out with no justification or even a source for the music (except when there is, e.g., Enchanted, the "Once More With Feeling" episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, etc.). So it stuns me to report that Bones and All desperately needs some justification. 

It's the 1980s in flyover America and Maren (Taylor Russell) is experiencing some of the most palpable teenage angst imaginable. She is a cannibal and has such difficulty controlling her impulses that her father (André Holland) abandons her. Thus begins a de facto road movie as Maren tries to figure out her affliction. She meets several other cannibals, the sexiest among them being Lee (Timothée Chalamet). Of course, a romance blossoms. But will they be able to keep each other's impulses in check?

Guadagnino has a superb eye for the bombed-out locales of Mid-South America (or what my pal Jeremy Posadas would call Appohzarka and the Heartland and mid-Atlantic South). But since the contours of the cannibalism are sloppily explained, we are never sure what exactly is at stake for the principals or what their plight has to do with the abandoned hamlets in which they take up residency. The final act implies that Maren and Lee can, indeed, keep their cannibalism in check and they are on their way to the straight and narrow before an even more sloppily conceived dénouement changes their plans forever. But while Guadagnino and screenwriter David Kajganich (basing his script on Camille DeAngelis's novel) leave too much of the story to implication, they bask in gore with a sensationalist specificity. The thrill of showing fresh-faced youth chewing on human flesh quite overwhelmed any sense of narrative drive or even purpose. Let the Right One In (Tomas Alfredson, 2008) managed to situate its gore within a specific socioeconomic context. But if Guadagnino and Kajganich were after some sort of allegory about how capitalism in its death throes forces American to feat on one another, then the connection just does not come through. Why the 1980s exactly? Why Maryland then Kentucky then Michigan? 

Grade: B-minus (and dropping)